Intention

Chapter 11: The Epitome of Chaos

Okay, listen I am sorry this took so long. Positive thing is that we are nearing the end here so here, so no more 3-month long updates. Hehe. I am so happy to have written because in THIS chapter I finally got the opportunity to write the dialogue that was the core idea for this fic. It was dialogue I had in my head for months.

As always for stupid grammar and since I am such a 'stellar writer' (lol never) I have forgotten Fife's butlers name and made up a name and have also forgotten about the place where Aunt Petunia lives.. Hopefully will update soon and sorry again.

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It had undoubtedly been an impulse, a temporary moment of utter madness that he would come to regret. Strike that, he was already regretting this sudden act of unbridled stupidity.

Yet something inside him had compelled him to be this unbridled stupid. A powerful sense of what he was doing seemed to be right, at least that is what he thought.

And yet, experiencing this mayhem was not exactly easy, because that was exactly what was happening, the emergence of utter and complete mayhem. A shockwave went through the church hall, and the buzz was subtle at first, but later became loud and open.

It all seemed to happen so quickly, in a flash. Anthony Bridgerton storming towards him, nostrils flaring and face red, the fist he felt on his cheek shortly afterwards.

'You despicable scoundrel!' Anthony had shouted before the fist made impact.

Till that moment, until today, Robert's life had been carefree. Robert was a welcome guest at balls, even though he detested going to these events. He could do whatever he wanted, had no in-laws or wife to bother him, and he had been seeing less of his father lately. Well, he deliberately eluded his father because if there was one thing Fife senior was good at, it was disrupting Robert's day and bringing his mood down.

His position had been comfortable, and Robert had even become adept at positioning himself so that ambitious mama left him alone, partly because she had recently become entranced with other members of the ton, 'the nouveau riche' and some Americans who were visiting, immensely affluent, he had understood, with the surname 'Vanderbilt'.

It had been a life of leisure and inconspicuousness, and Robert felt that was now ending. The blow took him by surprise.

Robert had to admit but it simultaneously jolted him awake so to speak. It took him a while to recover but just before Anthony wanted to deliver the second blow, Robert blocked this attempt and hit Anthony so violently that the latter stumbled backwards and landed with his derriere on the floor. A second gasp from the "audience" was heard.

Anthony, now even angrier than he already was, wanted to run at him once more but his brother and brother-in-law stopped him.

"Go! " Benedict said, turning to him Anthony was working hard to extricate himself from the grip of both men and became angrier when he could not.

"Anthony! Stop it!", demanded the Duke of Hastings before he too directed his attention to Robert.

'If I were you, I would leave,' Simon exclaimed, exasperated by the efforts of trying to restrain Anthony.

Robert understood the notion that had to leave and yet he could not. He was nailed to the floor it seemed. The feeling of having to stay got worse when he looked at '*her*. He had never seen her so beautiful and he was mesmerised. And yet reality kicked in when he took another punch from the rabid bull called Anthony, who had somehow wriggled out of his captives.

This time Robert had enough. His response was swift and harsh, and he rammed Anthony so violently that he fell to the ground and stayed there. The man was conscious, yes, but it was evident that he needed to recover. Anthony squeezed his eyes shut in pain and then brought his hand to his mouth and nose and noticed they were both bleeding. This annoyed him so much that he was already preparing to get up and attack, were it not for the fact that his captors had restrained him again.