Chapter Fourteen: Corruption [Part One]

"Welcome back. How was your promenade?" Henry greeted the two new arrivals. Lucy deliberately chose to stay silent and eyed Franny curiously.

"It was fine," Franny answered shortly.

Lucy, nosy as she was, could not help but ask, "Did you find out what kept him?"

"He overslept, the whole Bridgerton household is abuzz with wedding preparations," Franny replied without turning a hair. She did not like lying to the Granvilles, but she was intent on keeping Benedict's secret. Not to mention that a duel could also count as a wedding preparation, provided that it had incited the wedding, couldn't it? One should not get frittered away with the terminology.

Lucy raised one of her perfect eyebrows, suspecting that something was awry, "Yes, I am sure that Daphne's brother had his hands full with the preparations. Although," Lucy's face rearranged into a sly grin, "We do know not that Mr. Bridgerton has a great taste in flowers."

Franny stared at her with a puzzled grimace.

"Speaking of which, these have arrived for you, Lucy dearest," Henry called out from the drawing room and Mrs. Granville walked in to examine the enormous display of purple irises.

"Indeed, his taste is impeccable," Lucy noted with a pleased smile, putting her petite nose into the flower.

"And that," Henry pointed towards a small package, "is for you, niece dearest."

"Hmm," Franny approached the silk-covered box and turned the card to read it:

Confused, Franny opened the lid to reveal a set of Belgian bonbons in a variety of milk and white chocolates decorated with light pink dried rose petals.

"Hmm, Mr. Bridgerton sent hand-made chocolate. He is definitely a keeper," Lucy remarked, stealing one of the bonbons and uttering a sound of approval as she ate it.

"I don't understand. Why is it signed by Benedict?" Franny pondered, perplexed.

"Whatever are you talking about?" came the reply from her aunt.

"Well, it is Collin's handwriting, the same as it was for the daisies, the letter and the red roses."

Lucy broke into a peal of merry, tinkling laughter, making Henry smile widely and Franny huff.

"You ninny, were you under the impression that Colin Bridgerton was sending you the daisies?"

"Well, the handwriting,"

"I don't know about the handwriting," Lucy cut her off, "But it is obvious that if any of the Bridgerton brothers cared to figure out your favourite flowers, it would be Benedict. The roses, cliched and scenic, were obviously sent by his younger brother, but the daisies are definitely Benedict's doing."

Franny's jaw fell in an unladylike manner and she was unable to mutter a sound.

"Do you ever wonder how she can be so discerning and oblivious at the same," Lucy inquired her husband.

"I believe we have both benefited greatly so far from her selective attention," Henry replied.

"You know, I am standing right here," Franny muttered, meddling with the card in her hand.

✦

"Franny dearest, your Uncle and I have been talking," Lucy initiated a conversation over the dinner table while taking a small bite of artichoke.

"I imagine you do that quite frequently," Franny commented nonchalantly, chewing on the mushrooms, turning a blind eye to Mr. Granville's disapproving look.

"And you should definitely do it less often," Lucy shot back, not missing a beat.

Henry sighed quietly, the bickering between the Granville women being a quotidian feature of life, and added, "We have decided that let you come to my studio."

Franny's face immediately lit up, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Really?" she exclaimed, her tone high in excitement.

"You should accompany me after supper," Henry suggested, putting a hand over his drink, anticipating what was to come. The precautions were wise, as the table trembled when Franny jumped up. Lucy's was already holding her drink.

"I must make my equipment ready!"

"I assure you we are rather well-equipped."

"Uncle, if you think that I am not going to bring my favourite brush, having finally been granted access after years of pleading, then you are gravely mistaken."

"Very well, but at least eat up."

"I cannot eat, I am over the moon."

"I am sure Cook would be disappointed if you haven't tasted the cheesecake he made for you."

"With strawberries?"

"Was I born yesterday?"

"This evening could not get any better."

✦

"I am curious as to why now. After all, I have been pleading to you to let me in your studio ever since I was in leading strings."

"You'll see Franny that it is definitely not a place for anyone in leading strings."

"So, is it because I am out in society?"

"Partly yes. It is also because you have pointed out, most fairly I must add, that we cannot expect you to be honest with us if we keep secrets from you. It caused me profound sorrow that I couldn't be open with you about Lord Wetherby. I do not want to harbour any secrets between us. You are now a young lady, and you have demonstrated curiosity to learn about the world. In addition, you are a promising artist and I intend to give you all the support I can."

"Thank you, Uncle, I appreciate it. And I cannot wait to enter the den of iniquity."

Henry coughed awkwardly, making Franny frown. She hadn't the faintest idea what awaited her.

✦

The first thing that struck Franny was the strange and energising atmosphere. The light was dim, and the candles were sparkling a mysterious gleam. The air was buzzing with an electric feeling, the room was teeming with life and people of all kinds in leisurely attires and with messy hairs, having spots of paints on various parts of their body they seemed the most conscious of and least bothered by. They were chattering and laughing loudly with alcoholic beverages in their hands, surrounded by grey clouds of smoke. As the Granvilles entered, welcoming faces turned towards them, greeting them with kind smiles. A few curious gazes fell on Franny, but they did not hesitate to offer her a glass of champagne.