Chapter Five: Meeting Mr. Bridgerton

On the surface the Granvilles were spending their morning in an idyllic mood, all in the drawing room, occupied with pleasant activities. However, an air of frustration surrounded two of them: Franny was still rattled and hurt because of her uncle's mysterious silence, and decided not to even look in his direction; Mr. Granville was still not ready to tell her about Lord Wetherby, and was once again cross with her niece for making the front page of Lady Whistledown's "society" papers. However amusing he found her performance, it did not do any good to be in the centre of attention, not especially in front of this meddlesome rumourmonger.

Mrs. Granville, knowing both of them inside out, of course, was quite aware of the situation, but decided not to interfere. Humming pleasantly and sipping her favourite rosehip tea, she knew that sooner or later they would resolve the matter: whether with a fluffy domestic scene, or with plates flying over her head, for the time was yet to be seen, but with the new Whistledown yet to be published, she was up for either.

"I have heard the most curious rumour," she broke the forced silence, glancing at Mr. Granville who was sketching something on his drawing board, then to Franny immersed in a book, absent-mindedly fiddling with her hair, but none of them met her gaze.

"Please, Lucy dearest, indulge us, no less than an hour has passed without a novel scandal," Mr. Granville murmured in a playful voice, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

"Well, the ton is abuzz for it is rumoured that Nigel Berbrooke had a boy by one of his maids: he refused to provide for them, and sent them away with nothing. What an abominable man, absolutely detestable. Wait till Lady Whistledown hears about it, I assume Lord Berbrooke will abruptly have some serious business to conduct in the countryside.

"Well, I hope his carriage gets robbed on his way. What a horrible man."

"Franny," her uncle reprimanded.

"Why Uncle, not taking responsibility for one's child and the mother of said child, when he has all the means to do so, attests to the most loathsome character." Although she wasn't entirely clear on the details of how children came to be, Franny knew that it was not at all an unusual occurrence that some lords had children by their maids.

"On the bright side, it does mean that the maid and the boy will be compensated. Not to mention that the last obstacle standing in the way of the Duke and Daphne Bridgerton marrying has been removed," Lucy Granville added to lighten the mood.

"Unless something happened to Anthony Bridgerton, and by no means do I wish so, the obstacle with menacing sideburns is still there," Franny remarked with a small smile in the corner of her mouth. As she closed her book and looked up, Mr. Granville seized the opportunity of having momentarily made eye contact and beckoned to her niece. Weighing whether to maintain her resentment or give in to her curiosity, she finally obliged.

"What do you think?" he queried as his niece surveyed his work. Curled up on the sofa, frowning in concentration, deeply pensive with a book in her lap, the charcoal drawing captured Franny in her natural habitat.

"I believe, Uncle, you have done a great disservice to this cherub, for she is neither bare-naked nor chubby, not to mention is not floating in the air. Her wings look all fuzzy too.

"Those are not her wings, but her hair which is in a constant state of fuzziness, and that's not a cherub, you know it well. You are wicked, Frances Granville," he exclaimed leaving his coal-coated fingerprint on her unsuspecting niece's nose. Franny tried to hide how much she loved the picture (and her uncle) with a grimace. Mrs. Granville watched them from the corner of her eyes with a loving smile and came to the conclusion that there will be no flying plates today.

✦

"A caller, for Miss Granville," Everly has announced with a straight face, "A Mr. Bridgerton."

"A Bridgerton?" Lucy exclaimed excitedly, setting down the tea in her hand. Rather perplexed by the situation, Mr. Granville offered a handkerchief to her niece and gently nudged her for she was so in awe that she did not notice the cloth given to her. With a moment of hesitation, she removed the coal from her nose and straightened up. She was quite sure that Anthony Bridgerton was the last person who would come to see her, especially after last night's conversation, unless he had some wicked sense of humour. That left two brothers, perhaps... would come to see her? Holding her breath in expectation, she gazed at the door. Her heart fell a little when the youngest Bridgerton stepped in with a bouquet of gerberas in his hand. After the formalities were observed, Mr. and Mrs. Granville moved to the other part of the room, giving some space to the young people, but keeping their curious gaze on them.

"I am rather perplexed to see you here, Mr. Bridgerton. Especially because I was under the impression that you were enthusiastically courting Miss Thompson," Franny asked, startled.

"It would be impolite to talk about other lady friends of mine, especially when in the middle of courting such a charming lady as yourself, Miss Granville," he replied, without batting an eye, with a charming smile.

Franny narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "Oh if we are to be this formal, and you truly are courting me, then allow me to showcase my talent in pianoforte," Franny jolted up, and Collin extended his arm as a way of signalling "by all means, go ahead."

As Franny sat down, she cast a glance to the Granvilles: Mr. Granville buried his face in his hands aware of what was to come, and Mrs. Granville shot her a disapproving look. As out of tune as she could, she started singing and hitting the keys, a technique that has turned out to be rather sufficient so far. To her biggest surprise, however, the grin on the Bridgerton boy's face widened as he started singing along the non-existent tune, his flawless tenor voice filling the room. After a minute or so, Franny stopped, folded her arms, and cast her characteristic grumpy look, her hair sparkling with frustration.

"Do you reckon my lord, that it is high time for us to abolish slavery in the colonies also?" Franny inquired, adopting a different approach.

"Absolutely, my lady, a rather hideous and unjustified practice," he replied, not missing a beat. Franny huffed, frustration building in her, but she was not yet at her wits' end. Taking Colin's hand resting on the piano, she turned his palm towards her. Colin Bridgerton was finally momentarily caught off guard by her sudden and, some would say, too daring action.

"You see, my lord, this is your lifeline," she started, doing her best impersonation of a palm reader, tracing the line with her index finger, "I am afraid to say that it is quite short therefore you will not reach old age. See, this other line tells us about your love life, it branches out in three directions. Oh," she cried out dramatically, pushing his hand away. "It clearly shows that you are in a relationship with three women, simultaneously! What a scandal! And you dare come here and court me, a perfectly innocent, prim young lady!"

Clouding over, Colin Bridgerton grabbed his heart and fell on his knees in front of Franny, "My lady, I implore you, I beg of your kind heart, do not share my secret with Lady Whistledown, it would tarnish my whole family. Think of what it would do to my sisters, think of the pretty little diamond Daphne," he exclaimed theatrically, and the penny finally dropped.

"Mr. Bridgerton, you are making fun of me, indeed, you have been since you stepped in and I have just noticed! What an evil troublemaker you are."

"That is the highest praise coming from you, Miss Granville, after all, you have a reputation of being quite a prankster," he smirked as he rose.

"I suppose it serves me right to be at the receiving end for once. So did you come here to get acquainted with the horrible, unruly and impertinent Miss Granville?"