Elizabeth Windsor and Anthony Bridgerton despise each other with a passion, but a turn of events lands them to form an agreement. They would help one another find suitable partners, but what happens when they realize they're each other's perfect mat...
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A march down the aisle may very well be the longest walk any young lady ever takes. It does not simply cover the length of the church, but rather, countless floors for dancing, and meandering paths for every afternoon promenade too. It is a wonder, then, that feet do not tire or, heaven forbid, trip under the scrutiny of all those attentive eyes keeping close watch, indeed.
Lady Whistledown, 1814
The eve before the wedding, Anthony engulfed himself with far too many drinks. The day he was dreading and preparing himself for had finally arrived and while this was his mission all along, his spirits were the lowest they had ever been.
"It is meant to be a sipping spirit," Colin pointed out as Anthony swallowed his drink as if his life depended on it.
Benedict softly chuckled, "Have you not heard? The viscount believes in hurrying things along these days. First the wedding, now his drink. I hope, for Edwina's sake, the tendency stops before the honeymoon."
Anthony grew frustrated at his brothers' mock, not finding anything about his circumstances worth being the laughing stock. "Have you always been so vulgar, or has staring at naked models all day turned your brain into charcoal?"
"Must he choose just one?" Colin laughed.
"That has always been the privilege of not being the firstborn," Anthony leaned back against his chair, pondering on all the responsibilities his brothers had been free of. "You both get to choose your passions and adventures, while I, on the other hand, must fulfill my-"
"Tell me, dear brother, once you marry, will your duty finally be fulfilled so you can stop reminding everyone of it?" Benedict silenced him, narrowing his eyes into slits while holding onto the cue stick.
Anthony huffed in response, "I believe the reminders are also my duty, so no." He sighed heavily as he leaned forward to pour himself another drink. "No need to worry. Much will remain the same, apart from the fact that I shall finally have my viscountess, as is required."
Benedict sighed, "Indeed. Not much shall change at all. Though, soon enough, we will have a tiny Anthony to contend with, running around, declaring all of his tiny duties too, no doubt."
Colin decided to join upon noticing the annoyance of his brother, "Yes, he too shall be a tyrant."
Anthony longed to have children and ensure their lives are far from the responsibilities he was forced to bear. He wanted to give them the world and ensure their happiness above all, but there was just one more thing and it was the most important part. Whenever he looked into the future, he saw Elizabeth as the mother of his children.
Oh, Elizabeth Windsor.
She was the paradise he would never experience. He was destined for purgatory and while he deserved such a sentence, he screamed to the universe for having given him this prophecy. Living without his heaven was his hell and he'd be a fool to hope for an exile.
