[2] 𝙂𝙐𝙄𝙇𝙏𝙔 𝘼𝙎 𝙎𝙄𝙉? | Francesca Bridgerton

4

"SHARP!" Mercy exclaimed as he hushed downstairs with a smile on his face, adjusting the buttons of his suit. "Did you take my cufflinks? Be honest."

The cat only meowed at him, not proving either his innocence or guiltiness, but although surprised at his owner's good mood that morning, as he got ready to go out to the Bridgerton residence. Miss Dorothy Fickle cooked in the kitchen and chuckled as Mercy argued with his cat as a child.

"Poor Sharp is always blamed when something goes missing." She shook her head as she delicately attempted to cut vegetables.

"That is because he is usually the main reason for when something goes missing." Mercy lay on the ground, spotting a pair of sparkling cufflinks beneath it. He stretched his arm with great effort only to prove his point. "See?" He showed the missing objects to her, now recovered. "Not your best hiding place so far, Sharp." He teased the cat, who only rubbed himself on his legs in return. "Now you're just bribing me with affection so I may forgive you." He pets the small black cat. "Good for you, it works."

Mercy looked at his old, almost broken watch, where the golden had already faded along with time. He couldn't delay himself any longer, as by now, he was supposed to be on his way to Bridgerton house to teach the sparkling Francesca. He couldn't get her melody off his head, it was so easy yet so creative, incredibly addictive, a true reflection of her.

"Miss Fickle, I'm afraid I may not have time for breakfast now." He simply said as he put on his boots. "You may have it without me."

"Such a rush, I believe Miss Francesca must be very punctual."

"And so am I. I'd hate to ruin her routine, in which her brother says she is very fond of." He responded as now he opened the door to the chilly air of London. "Oh, it's freezing." He declared. "Grab one of my coats when you leave, yes? I do not wish for you to catch a cold."

The old lady smiled gratefully in return, as now her boss left for the poor neighborhood he loved. There were some small, almost nonexistent stores as he passed by the fragile wood constructions. It was strange how London had these two contrasting aspects about itself, one so bright and luxurious, while the other so simple and opaque.

But people were what made everything colorful there, as how he smiled to everybody on the streets and they waved in return, or how even one of the salesmen would say "Have a great day, Mercy! Kick their asses!"

Indeed, life was hard for those people, but each detail made it all truly alive, from the kids that played in the streets... "Jonah! Good morning!" ...to their fathers who watched them proudly. "Samuel!" Mercy shouted, as the black man hushed to greet him.

"Mr. Reeves, have you seen my boy? Look at him run!" Jonah's father, a mere widow who worked as a carpenter with a tough time paying his bills, now smiled at his son more brightly than the sun. "He won't stop talking about the pianoforte now either, all because of you."

"For that sin, I am guilty indeed," Mercy smirked charmingly, and many ladies passing by would swoon over his dimples exposed to the fresh air. "But I must say, your boy is a prodigy, you should be very proud."

"I know, and I thank you for encouraging him so much, you are great to us, I swear." He said kindly, reminding himself of the lessons and financial help he had given them over the years. "Since Elena died, I..."He sighed. "...I did not know what to do, truly."

Mercy looked at him "Raise your head, Samuel." He demanded. "You're an honorable man who raised your son alone, that is remarkable. You and Samuel never needed me." Samuel tried to smile. "I'm sure that up there in heaven, Elena is very much glad to have chosen you as her son's father."