Chapter Ten: War of Flowers
"Good morning dearest. That letter was sent to you," Mr. Granville greeted Franny over the newspaper spread in his lap while smoking his favourite cigar.
"Hmm," Franny walked in, curiously. As she opened the letter, she was surprised to find a few, small daisy flowers falling out of it. She turned her attention to the writing but having just finished her latest painting, a portrait of the queen with spaghetti bolognese on her head, the water droplets smeared the lower part of the paper. Cursing to herself, which the Granvilles graciously ignored, she read the inscription:
A lot could be deducted from one's handwriting and Franny, who took correspondence seriously, took a moment to examine the card closely: the penmanship was neat, cursive and elegant, its owner probably boasted of a healthy amount of confidence and filled out dozens of cards each day, sending them to young ladies in the company of flowers. And, of course, it was the same as on the last note, not to mention that the "gerton" was visible, therefore Franny easily figured the mysterious sender to be Colin Bridgerton. Obviously, he was apologising for the bouquet of red roses which (in)famously flew out of the window and decided to adopt more subtle tactics. Indeed, it would even have been to Franny's liking to receive daisies had they been sent by anyone but Colin Bridgerton. Before she could start plotting her masterful revenge, the newest edition of the Lady Whistledown's Society Papers was delivered.
"Oh dear, we appear to have missed the biggest scandal of the season," Lucy Granville exclaimed while noting to herself that Franny has finally secured a worthy suitor who somehow has managed to figure out her favourite flower. Enjoying the anticipation, Lucy posed a little before revealing the secret.
"Daphne Bridgerton, praised once again to be the Season's Incomparable, has traded the Duke up for Prince Friedrich," she delivered the juicy news, her voice laced with surprise.
"Most astounding. I was dead certain that they would make it down the aisle," Franny commented, rolling one of the daisies between her fingers.
"Well, it certainly does not bode well for the Duke," Mr. Granville murmured, surrounded by a mysterious cloud of smoke.
"Albeit, not at all unreasonable. I imagine if you are a princess and your prince truly listens to you, and Friedrich seems like the type who does, you can have a real impact on the state of affairs. I would for that kind of influence."
"A little bit less death on this fine morning would be appreciated, Franny dearest," Mr. Granville remarked, handing the newspaper to her niece as he knew she was eager to read it.
"Be that as it may," Mrs. Granville added, "Do not forget the social duties of a princess, all the balls you would need to host and all the guests you would need to entertain. With impeccable manners and a smile."
"On second thought being a princess doesn't sound that much fun at all," she admitted, turning to the foreign news section.
"And balance has been restored," commented Mr. Granville.
✦
"Mr. Bridgerton," Humboldt said, shifting somehow uncomfortably. "A...has arrived for you."
"A gift? Why then, dearest Humboldt, do you look so grim?" Colin cast an amused smile at the butler.
"You'll find it in the waiting room," he commented without an expression on his face and took his leave.
Colin walked into the drawing room, his eyes scanning the place curiously and soon falling on a bouquet of unidentifiable flowers. At first, he believed it to be intended for Daphne, but bouquets never came in singles therefore he approached. He turned the card to reveal neat, small handwriting:
The bouquet was rather impressive with small, round, vibrant yellow flowers and at first glance nothing was amiss. Colin grabbed it and instinctively drew it close to his nose to take a sniff, instantly regretting his hasty move. The flowers, whatever type they were, smelled horrible, for the lack of a better word, and he was not going to apologise for his thoughts, they smelled as if someone pissed on them. He let out a warm, heartfelt laugh.
"What is it?" Descending the stairs Anthony Bridgerton caught his brother's laugh, and always suspicious of merriment, he decided to investigate. "Is that a bouquet for Daphne?"
"No, brother, these flowers were sent to me," Colin replied, still laughing.
"Flowers sent to a ?" Anthony raised his sharp eyebrows in a confused, disapproving manner, "Who would do such a thing?"
"Miss Granville is expressing her feelings towards me."
"Outrageous. Do remove them in this instant, I do not want any flowers near me, they attract bees."
"I can assure you, brother, this will certainly not attract bees. Or any living creatures with a sense of smell for that matter."
"How do you mean?" Colin shoved the bouquet in his face and took pleasure in his disgust.
"Get them out of my face!" he roared, snapping the flowers away. "It is flagrant enough to be sending flowers to a man, not to mention pissed-smelling ones. That chit is out of control."
"I find it rather ingenious," Colin grinned. He did not remember apologising though, was this some sort of passive-aggressive way of signalling that he should? Blimey, whoever understood the workings of female brains...
✦
Since Lucy has decided to pay a visit to the Milliner's shop to acquire a new hat in the latest fashion, and Franny was eagerly plotting some sort of revenge, God help the one against whom, Mr. Granville had decided to spend his afternoon in the club. So, there he was, smoking his favourite cigar, rather wickedly eavesdropping at how Lord Featherington once again managed to misplace a bet. Or overhearing was a more precise expression, as the room echoed the latest Featherington misfortune. Henry, contrary to his wide, did not find any pleasure in gambling as he had more than enough risks in his life. His eyes caught a familiar figure and he decided to have some amusement.
"What do you think, Bridgerton?" he asked nonchalantly, getting the addressed caught in surprise, pointing to a picture he has always found hideous, "This one more to your liking?"