Chapter Text
"Allyship. That's what I need." The voice of a very insistent Kate Sharma who sat across from the table in Lady Danbury's parlor fills the stagnant air.
Lavina Quintrell wasn't too keen on the subject, gazing out the clear windows soaking in each ray of the summer sunlight. It made her feel all the warmer in the cold room she shared with a very worried Miss Sharma. Her silence was not in vain, truly her mind boggled between her new friend's words and her quarreling thoughts. All of which seemed to run around the reminder of the start of the season, weaving and bobbing between fears she was sure to suffer.
"Miss Quintrell?"
"Oh dear, yes, I was a bit distracted..." Lavina perks up to Miss Sharma, feeling embarrassed to have her head in the clouds today.
She really couldn't help it though, too much was on her mind. Much more than she liked to focus on was a priority this season, even her own future. It was time to take charge of that, and only in the best way she knew.
Lavina looked up to Miss Sharma, giving her a polite smile, "Miss Sharma, I'd be very happy to help you. Given that, I must ask a small favor from you,"
Miss Sharma seems a little less worried than before, but quite curious nonetheless, "I don't see why not, what might it be?"
"I'm in dire need of a match, a perfect match, I know I am very picky, but I need someone to help me, someone who understands what it's like to be an older lady in need of a husband."
"Well, Edwina has been under my wings for maybe years, I'm sure all you need is a push."
Lavina chuckles at her words, bringing a sage-colored teacup up to her lips, and sipping the hot vanilla chai carefully. Miss Sharma tilts her head to her reaction, waiting for her to say more.
"Miss Sharma, that might be a challenge, but I am willing to try, and please call me Lavina, my last name makes me sound 40," she sets the cup down again, looking back up to her, "Of course, just like my Auntie I will be of the utmost help, any task you need."
The rest of the afternoon is spent with Miss Sharma telling Lavina of her plans to see young Edwina as the diamond. It's such a close date, only tomorrow you and ladies of the ton embarrassingly younger would be before the queen. Lavina had made good impressions last year with the Queen specifically, but not good enough to be a worthy gem.
Lavina had only made your debut last year when she arrived in England via Ireland. The whole ordeal was something not too bad to her but remains unspoken. Throughout planning and ideas, she wonders why Edwina isn't here to hear it all. If this is her debut, why not have her involved? 'Older sister duties, being an only child herself', Lavina guessed.
Miss Sharma excused herself and Lavina was left alone again, in the cold parlor. She had begged her aunt to go out today, but she had plans to see the Queen. That left her a bored lady either roaming the halls, checking on the Sharmas, or trying to entertain herself with anything else. It's a dreadful way to spend a day before the Queen's expectation of debutants. it practically murders Lavina in the chair she sits in to not be doing something, even if it is not her debut.
Weeks ago, she had even planned to slip away to find a certain botany book she so desperately wanted, confiding in her favorite servant too. Perhaps in the following week, she could go out and all into the streets to find it, but her Auntie has specific orders to keep her on the premises of the house. It was damned near exhaustive not to jump out the window for Lavinia.
"Uhm, Miss Quientell?" A faint voice from across the room startles Lavina, bringing her out of her pity slouch. It's one of the servants, the young butler Thomas with his gloved hands fidgeting as if he's nervous. She immediately guessed it was news that could give her an excuse to leave, shifting excitedly in her seat.
"Oh dear, you scared me, Thomas...any news or...?"
"Well Miss, you have a suitor!" Lavina practically scrambles to the door, grabbing a shocked Thomas by the hands, "Oh you sweet man, thank you,"
Lavina rushed down the hall, grabbing her skirt unceremoniously to scramble down the stairs. Once her feet hit the bottom, she sighed, smoothing down her dress at the sight of her "caller".
"Benedict Bridgerton, why on earth did you tell the butler you're a suitor?"
"Well, Lavina, I have so very important news I'd like to share." He muses, hands clasped behind his back as he gaged her reaction to get more layering on top of the visit.
"You're going to do it?" She exclaims, guessing immediately the circumstances of such an uncalled visit.
Benedict nods excitedly outstretching his hand to his friend.
"You're going to be marvelous, I just know it! It'll be nice to have the newest Caravaggio or Vermeer," She takes his hand, patting it with a sort of pattern in her joy for the man. He only shakes his head, glad but giving a mock-humbled expression at her words.
"I hope so, it will be a new step in an unknown direction. I must admit unnerves me...do you think it is odd I made it in?" He asked, ho tone fading into an unsure air.
"I think it is unexpected, but not a complete paradox, I've seen your sketches, Benedict, they're good!" She assured.
After settling into society in a rather dull position, not wanted but not ignored, Rosheen grew to take comfort in Benedict's acquaintance. So, they did not stay simply confrères but entrusted each other quietly, giving no notice to make it seem as if it was a courtship. Benedict said it was much like his brother Colin's and Penelope Fetherington's friendship; lighthearted and warmed by like minds that found themselves on the outskirts of the ton, hanging together of the steep drop of excitement.
He would tell her of his dreams of becoming something greater, a detached being from his brothers who could make a physical show of who he was, an artist and poet at heart. Lavina herself saw herself in him, although knew the man would have a much easier time on his path, supplied with both allowance and privilege she was not entitled to without marriage. There were times her envy about him spiked, curled around her heart like a tempting snake whose tongue could slip out with hers and remark something unkind, but caution was her talent, and cleverness his at any word she could politely mutter as less than lady-like.
Overall, he was a worthy and affectionate companion, but a man nonetheless she kept at arm's length to sell herself to any suitor that would be gracious enough on her. Often she hid his letters or even his visits and avoided his town home which enhanced the rest of his family, all of who would've been eager to ask about her and her prospects.
"You flatter me, truly. Now tell me, how is Miss Eloise coming along? I heard she will be in the line-up of the debutants this year at the Queen's introduction."
"As much as a young spinster could. She's been locking herself away all day from it, and it was interrupted by one of the infamous Whistledown papers."
Lavina frowns at the idea, it's a lot of pressure for a young lady to feel. Perhaps, she could persuade Thomas to keep an eye out while she attends to Eloise. Lavina knew she had a knack for dressing up, and wanted to help out a young girl that couldn't stand the options of dress.
"Benedict, would it be too much to go visit her? I only ask to help her if she desires it,"
"Am I allowed to accompany you out of this house?" He smirked, whispering as he saw another servant eye them before walking down the hall, "I'm sure Lady Danbury would have my head."
"Nonsense, I'll be quick."
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Arriving at the Bridgerton's was a breath of fresh air to Lavina, akin to being set free from a terrible tudor's lesson she'd remembered in her youth.
She looked onwards at the bricked mansion, the wisteria clinging onto the estate cascading down like a lady's flowing hair, the small petals clustering like tight curls. Their little petals flew in the breeze, lilac, and lavender spots brushing past the rest of the plants on the front lawn. They peppered the grass and hedges, and still with their departure were as vibrant as when they had been cared for by stem.
Lavinia clutched the fabric of her sea-foam dress, stepping out of the carriage after Benedict. She hadn't been to the estate in some time and hadn't met a good sum of the Bridgertons.
The one that she had met first was Lady Bridgerton, an older lady she found complete respect for. She was very kind, much more understanding than other mamas who met Lavina who was so detached from high society and English customs. Apart from Lady Bridgerton, she had already met Eloise, then Colin on one occasion, and Daphne on another. The younger ones she didn't know much about, nor the current man in charge of the estate. In her mind Viscount Bridgerton was a grumpy and unknown man, making her nervous just to consider if he was there.
Lavina had found most highly titled Lords, especially the older ones, terrifying. She would have to see for herself though, thinking about it as she followed Benedict in. She was taken aback at the sight before her when she did enter. It was an open and light mansion, not the claustrophobic mess of the houses she was used to. The walls were painted and trimmed brightly, little flowers and details accenting the serene corridors.
It had been a while since her first visit and was a pleasant surprise. Lavinia quietly followed as Benedict said something to their butler, and went around a corner to a propped open door into the drawing room.
It was an airy room with expertly chosen furniture, matching its morning blue and soft golden tan colors. Within the beauty of a decorated room were 4 of the other Bridgertons. Hyacinth and Gregory played a game of marbles in a corner, Violet Bridgerton lounged on a sofa with a small white booklet, and the man Lavina could only assume to be Anthony Bridgerton reading the newspaper rather closely. She could not entirely tell, embarrassingly knowing she had confused Colin and Anthony before Benedict. Thank God he only took a humous pleasure in it, the tease.
Before any of the others could notice her, Lavina whispered over to Benedict, "Which brother of yours is sitting there, the one in the green chair?"
"That would be Anthony, yet again in another hair-graying mood."
As soon as the words came out of Benedict's lips, she could see the eldest Bridgerton son find her gaze, having ears of a blood-hound. The glace startled Lavina as she forced herself to pretend she had not seen the man at all. He looked only a bit younger than her, and different looking from her brothers. He had a handsome face, dark brown eyes sharply sitting underneath expressive brows, and a strong English nose. His expression oddly complemented his features, the stern prying look he gave them both reminding Lavina of something much more archaic, sculptured even.
Taking his pleasing form into consideration, Lavina recognized them as deciding for she did think the titled man a softer man. The first titled man she knew was her uncle, a man with a gangly face that twisted and warped in anger anytime he looked upon her childish face, seeing something sinister she could not yet begin to understand. After that, she scorned such men, ones who thought themselves better with all of the world beneath them.
"Miss Quintrell, what a pleasure to have you this afternoon!" Lady Bridgerton piped up to her entrance with Benedict, setting down her booklet with a crimson bookmark.
Lavina smiles at the ladies' acknowledgment, curtsying to her briefly, "Benedict had told me that Eloise is a bit distressed with the ball tomorrow, and I've come to see if I could see her," The words slipped out politely, but softer than she liked.
"Well, it's much more than distressed..." A younger voice comes from the children's corner, leaving Lavina to suspect Gregory.
"A breakdown, more like?" Lavina chuckled, not sure of the magnitude of Eloise's distress yet.
Lady Violet rose first, giving a polite smile and chuckle nervously mashing into one action, "She is...unhappy with it all! Perhaps she would see you?
Just as Lavina exited herself to find Eloise's room and said a word to Benedict, a deeper voice in the room asked something of her stopping her before the threshold of the room.
"I hear you have some guests from overseas in your aunt's care, Miss Quintrell?"
"My Lord, they are indeed staying with my Auntie and me," she smiled hastily, her eyes downcasted onto the floor, "Though I'm sure you will meet them soon at a ball or soiree."
"I hope you can introduce them soon if you can?"
"I'm not sure if I could do that honor, apologies," She replies, giving a quick bow before leaving the still-questioning Viscount and his family to find Eloise's room.
the air sits awkwardly, Benedict looking at Anthony with a puzzled tone, "Brother, did you say something to Miss Quintrell?"
"I've only said the words you just heard...?"
Benedicts open his mouth before his mother interrupts. "I'm sure she's just nervous, Benedict, didn't you once say she has a certain distaste for most gentlemen?"
"Yes, Lavina didn't grow up with exactly a loving caretaker...she's weary at times,"
"Lavina?"
"Yes, Lavina Quintrell. I'm sure I've introduced you to her before," Benedict promises, before taking his leave as well.
The Viscount ceased his questions, his tired eyes no longer scanning the newspaper that sat ideally in his hands, closed but not yet opened again. He was sure he had not met Miss Quintrell before, she certainly did not look familiar except for a watery likeness to Lady Danbury. She was polite but quiet enough to make her forgettable among a crowd of a dozen other ladies. Pretty as she was, she was not exceptional or note-worthy, only a friend of Benedict he scarcely knew. However, her connection to Lady Danbury seemed to be the most interesting thing about her.
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Eloise Bridgerton was engrossed in a book and slouching when Lavina walked into her bedroom. There was nothing Lavina had against her, but slouching was a sin. Lavina didn't know Eloise intimately, but when she did talk to her one-on-one she found her to be a bright young lady. She hoped Eloise could find her as someone to confide in, as every person needs. At the end of the day, Lavina hated putting herself in places she didn't feel she belonged, hence the prolonged absence of visits she gave Benedict's family.
"You should take better care of your posture, Miss Eloise."
"When did you get here?"
"Moments ago, but that's not important, what are your plans this season?"
Eloise scoffs at the question, dog-earring a page in her book, "Plans! I can barely think of what I want to do in the next hour,"
"I'm guessing suitors aren't on the mind for this season."
"No, they aren't and will never be."
Lavinia is unsure what to say next, so she simply closes the bedroom door carefully, turning back to Eloise.
"What, are you going to murder me?" Eloise glances side to side at the older lady's behavior. Lavina just takes a seat at her desk, angling the chair towards Eloise's spot on her bed.
"Can I ask you a question about the Viscount, your brother, I mean?"
"Oh God, Miss Quintrell, don't tell me you have eyes for him."
'Eyes for him?' The idea sounded ridiculous, Lavinia barely knew the man. She needed more than a handsome face to persuade her into anything.
"No, I don't, he was asking me about hosting the Sharmas and I got curious about the intentions of the question."
"Well, it just happens to be the season Mama is pushing Anthony to find a Viscountess."
without much surprise this also happened to be the exact time the Sharmas came for the season, the most eligible man in bloody England was searching for a wife. And here Lavinia was, right in the middle of what was to become a maelstrom of issues.
"He doesn't have to do a bloody thing, but here I am, still with the feeling of a plume stabbing me in the head," Eloise grumbled out the statement, watching Lavina fidget with the small paper fan she kept with her.
"I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it, still it didn't last forever."
"Easy for you to say, you're debut is long done...you must have any man disposable to you now,"
Lavina felt her ears burn at the statement, knowing deep down it wasn't very truthful, an outward expectation she did not reflect even though she was well over the age of a maiden and ready to marry.
"I wasn't always like this, no one is. Like for example; you didn't always know how to read but now look at you, a million books a day I bet!"
"And if I didn't like reading?"
"Then, perhaps you didn't always have your unique philosophy, rarely do I meet a lady such as yourself, Miss Eloise,"
Eloise just nods to this, looking down at her messy sheets. Lavina truly hoped she understood what she was trying to say. She didn't want Eloise to think her future only consisted of being married off. She was a bright girl, destined for many different things.
"Miss Quintrell?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for coming, what you said, makes tomorrow feel a little less hell-like."
"Glad it makes you feel better, and I'll see you tomorrow. And please, do not stab anyone with that plume,"
Lavina chuckles at the idea, trying to keep cheering Eloise up before her final moments of the visit. Eloise laughs as well, that must've been the first time Lavina heard her laugh, it was a heartwarming sound. Not like a sweet melody, but more of a familiar and hearty folk tune.
After softer words, Lavina says goodbye and leaves Eloise in the comfort of a silent chamber. As she steps out, sliding through the cracked door and promptly she's met with a figure only inches away from her. It's enough to harbor a gasp from her lips, and back against the ivory-painted door.
"Lord Bridgerton, I apologize, I was just leaving!" Lavina lets out her excuse, in a whisper yell so as to not alert Eloise.
She suddenly felt uncomfortable, being cornered by Lord Bridgerton. Lavina was not sure how she garnered his attention but found it to leave a small pit in her stomach.
"I didn't mean to startle you, may I have a word?" He asks her, his voice softening into a hurried whisper.
It puzzles Lavina, so she agrees, cautiously. Bridgerton leads her down the hall, and a stop before a corner turns into the hall with the stairway. It's a clear space, but still private.
"What is it you have to ask of me?" Lavina is a little vexed at the situation, raising a brow.
"What I have to ask of you is why you dismissed my question?"
Again, another puzzling question from the man she would much prefer to avoid this season. Lavina ponders why he's so upset at the fact she just doesn't like him, it's odd. Why did he care in the first place about it? 'Oh wait, the guests, I'm just a connection to him.' Lavina tells herself silently, finally connecting the dots.
"I have my reasons, and in the end, I am looking out for the best interests of my guests. It is their marriage season, so I do what I must." Lavina explains.
"How do those reasons exclude me then?"
"It has come to my attention that you...are a bit of a rake,"
To this, he stares, crossing his arms like a pouting child. The pose makes Lavina almost chuckle, but she keeps it in. It's almost unnoticed the way his mouth curls on the side, just slightly like a smile. It's a quick moment, and Lavina guesses she imagined it.
"You know nothing of me, so I'd expect you to at least tolerate me if you want to stay in contact with the rest of my family."
"Lord Bridgerton, are you threatening me?" Lavinia raises her voice, looking over the corner to see another figure walking by.
"No, no, you know what? Just go."
Lavina quickly curtsies, giving a quick glare she knew she could get away with before leaving. As she left she passed Daphne Bridgerton, who tried to greet the girl before taking in the oddity of the situation. Anthony Bridgerton stood, scowling at the conversation that had just occurred.
"Anthony, that was Miss Quintrell that just almost ran from here?"
"Oh yes, it was. She's quite rude."
"Anthony! She is not, she's a lovely woman, what did you even say to her to get such an outlandish idea?"
"I simply asked about the Sharmas, and why she hates me, simple as that."
Daphne sighs, too tired from an infant's energy and her brother's assumed blankness, but curious nonetheless. It was a clash of two very different people, people, she surmised, who must've been better off not meeting at all.