12. First Fight
"The madness of love is the greatest of heaven's blessings."
-Plato
It takes a lot for me to become angry with someone. I get annoyed quite easily, but anger is a sensation I'm not used to nor appreciate. I packed my trunk in a huff, engaged by the way the duke treated me earlier. Poor Lord Bertram. All he did was bring me some lovely fresh flowers, and what does Lord Hastings do? Cast me inside so cruelly and without explanation. Why? What right did he have to be jealous over a gentleman showing me a kindness or attention? These were things my own fiancé would certainly never give me himself, so why would he be so upset that another man should? There was nothing immoral or scandalous about it, so long as it was done in public. Why, the queen herself received hundreds of bouquets a week. Why shouldn't men throw themselves at my feet if they want to? They don't have my brothers or father scaring them off anymore…..
Pausing here, I stared off into space for a moment. My lips parted on their own accord. Is that…. Is that really what I want? To be courted now by a parade of Englishmen whom I can never return their affections for beyond friendship? Secretly, somewhere deep down I wanted my intended to be my only champion…. The only one who looked at me with such tenderness and love. The same sort of way Father looked at Mother…. An unconscious sigh fell from my mouth as my arms lowered. But I see now that's impossible; the duke will never look at me like that. He doesn't want a wife- it's not just me but all women he dismisses. He lets them into his bed but not his heart….. I'm beginning to wonder now if he even has a heart. There's no hope in being treasured by him, and yet….. My eyes slowly wandered back over to the roses Lord Bertram gave to me. Upon seeing them, a gentle smile drew across my lips. Roses….. He must have asked Benedict or Colin what my favourite flower was; I doubt Anthony would have told him. Lord Bertram asked so he could get just the right ones, and he remembered…
The air in the room was suddenly unbreathable. I burst out from my chambers, wandering aimlessly down the hallways. All the while I held myself and breathed quickly. Yes, I was mad; not just at Lord Hastings, but at the situation itself. Love was supposed to be this beautiful, miraculous thing, and the English tossed it aside like it was nothing. Money… It's all about money. The upper classes of society married each other so fortunes could stay with the select few. We were brought together here in London and paired off like breeding stock. Arranged marriages were the bane of my existence because I knew better…. I knew that love could and did exist; I've seen it elsewhere, and I felt selfish for wanting it for myself.
As if I was in one of Jane Austen's romance novels, I turned the corner and who do you think I accidently bumped into? My eyes shot upward and I was horrified to find the duke gawking back down at me. "Miss Bridgerton?" He let out a gasp. It took me a second to realize that I'd unintentionally made my way into the left side of the palace again…. Fancy that. He beheld me with wide eyes and a distinct expression of surprise and confusion. "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go pack?"
Oh….. Oh, he should not have said that. He should NOT have told me that just now. Father may be right and I may be kind, but I wasn't used to feeling this upset. I was in no mood to be lectured or commanded about. How dare he? Him, who has no regard for me? What gives him the right or privilege to order me around? Stewing about it only made me angrier. I think his grace was a little alarmed by the glare I was suddenly sending him now. My hands coiled into tight, unconscious fists. "Pardon me, your grace," I was about to brush past him. His gaze shown on me bewildered.
"Have I done something to upset you, Miss Bridgerton?" Upset….. He wants to know if I'm upset… The cad! "I'm perfectly fine. Now if you'll excuse me." "This wouldn't happen to be about this morning, would it?" He asked with an air of arrogance. My feet stopped in their tracks, but I didn't dare look back to him. My teeth grit together. "No, my lord. But if you must push the matter, then might I ask that you please refrain from embarrassing me in public?" "Embarrassing you?" His lordship had the audacity to sound offended, turning in my direction slightly. My arms shook in rage. "No, you're right; I misspoke. What I meant to say is do not hurt others on my account. Lord Bertram was very kind to me this morning, and you were unnecessarily rude to him. I don't care how much you hate me, but don't take it out on other people!" I was practically yelling this by the end of my tirade. My fiancé paused a moment, blinking to me first startled, then still bewildered and irritated.
"Leave it to you to be so mistaken. And here I thought you were well-educated- clearly not in the ways of men. That wasn't kindness Bentram showed you this morning; that was manipulation. In front of your own fiancé too…" Lord Hastings felt the need to tack on. Incensed I spun around on my heels to glare straight at him. "Manipulation?! You call bringing me a hand-picked bouquet of my favourite flowers with a glorious smile "manipulation"? What you call otherly-motivated, I call genuine good-will, Lord Hastings. Forgive me if I "don't know any better", so you believe, but you won't be able to convince me otherwise.
I know I'm not wrong about this."
The duke huffed, rolling his eyes in an exasperated fashion. "I don't what you're getting so worked up over. They're just flowers." My eyebrow twitched. "They're not just flowers! They were a very thoughtful gift with the sole intention of making me…. happy," only then did my words trail off. Huh, I hadn't considered it before but that was Lord Bertram's purpose in bringing me them. He wanted to make me happy; to see me smile… Lord Hastings sensed that I was contemplating something like this and reacted with a prominent frown.
"I suggest you get arid of those romantic ideas in your head, Miss Bridgerton. They will not serve you well." Romantic…. What would he know about romance? This womanizer? This rake? I fired off another nasty glare his way. "They won't serve me regarding you, I'm sure." "What was that?" There was a hint of threat in his voice now, not that I cared. I turned in such a way so to face him head on.
"You don't want to marry me- I understand that. Believe me, I understand that clear as day." "Miss Bridgerton….." He went to stop me, but I wouldn't let him. "That's why you hate me; I could be anyone, and you wouldn't be happy about this marriage. You don't care who I am. I'm YOUR fiancé- that's enough to earn your hatred, isn't it?" "Do not interrupt me," he shot back angrily but my glare only intensified. "I'll never be enough to make you happy with this arrangement, will I? There's nothing I can do. Why? Why do you despise having a wife so much? Why do you hate me so?" "Don't you dare talk to me like that!" He shouted. Yet still I persisted, even taking a step forward in his direction. "Why? Tell me why! Is it because I'm merely a diamond?
Because I'm not a sun?"
My fiancé froze here, ogling me stunned for a long moment. He was unaware that I overheard him in the garden before the ball and was confused how I was able to parrot his own words back at him. His eyes stared feverishly into mine, revealing a tint of dismay on his end. Yeah, I was right; the duke was not used to be talked to or challenged like this, especially by a woman I'd say. But shock soon gave way to rage. His body language was aggressive as mine was right then, also taking a step toward me.
"Why?! Because you're a child! An ignorant, senseless child who's going to suffer nothing but disappointment! What do you know about the real world, or real married couples? Nothing! Not a god damn thing! You're right about one thing; I never wanted to get married because I didn't want to watch my wife slowly become disillusioned, realizing that love never lasts. I've never even seen proof of its existence." "My parents loved each other!" I yelled. "Your parents let you see what they wanted you to see. You didn't see the fights they had behind closed doors, or how they couldn't stand to be in each other's presence at night after you went to bed. There was obviously some physical attraction- for there to be eight of you- but that's not love. The kind of love you and every other girl wants isn't real, and I certainly can't give it to you. You'll look to me for comfort and affection, and only end up disappointed. Haven't you ever wondered why they say marriage is work? Hard work? Because that's what it is- something to get through with another person you can barely stand. What's the point in your getting attached to me, only for me to watch the light leave from your eyes later on? No, I won't subject myself to that; I refuse, and you should too….. If you're smart."
I beheld his lordship with wide eyes. He's never said that much to me before, and he practically poured his heart out on a silver platter for me. It all suddenly began to make sense. Going off everything he'd just said, it's clear that he was not raised in a loving household like I was. Of course he wouldn't believe in love; how could he after watching his parents likely tear each other apart in front of him? I didn't want to feel sorry for him- not after the way he just talked to me. I respected myself too much for that. And yet…. The longer I stared at the duke, the shakier my insides grew. He's never seen true love before, and he's convinced that I can't give it to him either. With that mindset, I think he may be right….. My brothers are also right, I believe; I cannot force this man to love me, nor do I want to. I stared at him for a minute in silence, thinking about what I would say next.
His grace, for his part, was now heaving heavily, taking in some much-needed air after that verbal spillage. His eyes eventually drew back onto mine; calmer now. "Well?" He asked, not demanded this time. I know he was waiting to see my reaction to everything he'd just said. I simply took in a deep breath myself, lowering my shoulders a little.
"You want me to break off the engagement….." This was more a statement than a question. Lord Hastings blinked back my way but didn't say anything. I sighed softly. "I'm sorry, my lord, but I can't do that." "Why not?" He suddenly sounded affronted and mildly afraid. "Because unlike you, I have sisters who will attend their own Season in the future. I also have four unmarried brothers….. For their sake, I have to marry you…. so that they might make their own good matches one day." The duke was silent momentarily, looking at me in disbelief and annoyance. This clearly wasn't going his way….. "So, you're willing to sacrifice yourself for their sake? Be a lamb led to slaughter so they may live?" "Yes. Without a second thought, yes. I love them…. I love all of them, and they love me."
Lord Hastings pursed his lips together, upset by my decision. Watching him like this, Father's words rang through my mind. Kindness….. I've had so much kindness shown to me by so many people, and I must remember to always be kind. Even if he won't reciprocate it, I must be kind to even him anyway. Grinning ever so slightly, I took another step in his direction- not in hostility this time. This caught him off guard a little, proven by the way he eyed me and arched his back up.
"Believe it or not, I don't want to see you suffer either. You hate me, but I make it a point not to hate anyone. I'm sorry, but we need to get married; there's no other way for my family. But that doesn't mean that our lives have to be over….. We'll get married, and we never have to see each other again after our wedding day." "Miss Bridgerton!" He gasped scandalized, which surprised me slightly if I'm honest. But still I continued with a reassuring grin. "You can go on living alone on your estate; I'll stay with my father and brothers. You can do as you please! I won't mind. Have as many female callers as you like; do what you like….. and I'll do the same."
The duke's eyes now shone onto me like his brain couldn't understand the words coming out of my mouth. "W-What are you…..? But wouldn't that make you jealous, knowing your husband kept a mistress or two?" He had to add a second woman on, cause of course he did; I inwardly rolled my eyes. But I shook my head in all sincerity, which definitely alarmed him. "Why would I be jealous? You don't believe in the kind of love I desire….. You're already not giving me what I want, so there's nothing to be jealous of."
Ok, I'll admit, I did get a twinge of satisfaction watching Lord Hastings face right then. Evidently this is not what he was expecting to hear. I think he was taught that women are jealous, spiteful creatures by nature, and he adored it. He loved the idea of women lusting and fighting over him. He would never love them in return of course, but he enjoyed the idea of being desired, being fawned over, being idolized. And here I was, declaring that I wouldn't experience any jealousy if my husband took to bed other women. It would make it easier for me, in fact…. Should Father and I return to Europe someday. I wouldn't have a physical affair, but an emotional one is certainly in the cards. He shouldn't be jealous of me either, seeing as he's already said he'll never love me that way anyway. But there was some joy in watching the duke realize- likely for the first time- that he's not God's gift to all women.
And by his own fiancée too, heh.
Lord Hastings mouth opened, then shut. He gazed off briefly and cleared his throat; I think he was trying to figure out how to take control of the conversation again. "So….. you're not going to break off the engagement then?" "No, your grace." A very tense pause fell in here- tense for him, I mean. I was doing much better now, for some reason. Maybe it was watching him falter and fly off his pedestal which calmed my nerves. His eyes looked every which way but at me. "And you…. wish to live apart?" "I do. It will be better for both of us; you can keep on with your bachelor lifestyle and I'll… I'll get what I want, eventually. My primary focus will be my education of course, but you don't care about that," I said, making his eyebrow twitch. That made me happy.
Again, he cleared his throat in a bad attempt to lord over me. He was still unable to look me in the eye. "You seem to have thought of everything," his tone was sour. "It's my future too, your grace," I quipped back, suppressing a smirk. His back flinched uncomfortably. "Yes, well, it sounds…. It sounds like a reasonable plan, so long as you can keep your word and not get jealous. I have a reputation as a notorious rake for a reason, you remember." "I remember, my lord. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine. This plan is perfect. Just keep up the appearance of a happy- or at least aimable- engaged couple before the wedding, then we can part ways forever."
He smirked for the first time ever since we bumped into each other, taking a step my way so we were very near each other now. "Are you suggesting that we pretend to form an attachment? That I carry you on my arm, while we are engaged, and lead society to believe that we've accepted her majesty's match? That we are truly intended, as we are? Only until our wedding day, when all pretending disappears….. and you'll disappear?" His lips lingered on this last word. Thinking it over, I nodded my head. "Yes, that sounds right. Let's pretend to be a happy engaged couple, sparing both our reputations. Then we shall part ways with both of our social standings intact. The queen will be happy, although I'm not sure we'll be able to convince her….. What with the way you slighted me the other night." "Yes, yes; we've been over that. She'll believe it, if we do everything that is required of an intended couple before the wedding," he waved his hand dismissively. "But I don't expect you to spend any more time in my company than is necessary, my lord," I tacked on. Only then did his eyes shoot back onto mine. "Indeed," his tone said it all; he was most certainly not used to women treating him like this. Like something to get away from…
We looked at one another for a minute, not saying anything. I smiled; he did not. Quite natural of our relationship, if I do say so myself. "You'll have to stare into my eyes while in public." "I don't need you telling me how to act besotted, Miss Bridgerton," he rolled his eyes. "So I won't need to tell you then that you'll actually have to take my arm when we walk together, which you've refused to do so far?" He scowled, but in a humorous sort of way. "I also don't appreciate the sarcasm, my lady." "You won't have to tolerate it for long. We'll set the wedding date for as soon as possible and get this over with quickly.
Then we can both get on with our lives."