Chapter Text
May 27, 1812 - It was two weeks after Daphne had finally started being able to talk to her suitors, and you couldn’t help but feel your excitement bubbling when you saw her speaking with Phillip Norwood once again. He had little money, at least for Mayfair standards, and no title to speak of, but he made your best friend laugh. And that was all you really wanted from the man who would potentially be her husband.
You were interrupted from over-analyzing Daphne’s body language toward her suitor by someone clearing their throat next to you.
“Anthony!” you exclaimed as you turned, happy to see him. “I hadn't seen you tonight , my apologies.”
Just as the eldest Bridgerton began to respond, you caught Daphne laughing what could only be described as a flirty giggle, while Mr Norwood placed a hand on her upper arm. Distracted, you squinted to see if your best friend had placed a hand on his arm, too. You couldn’t wait until tomorrow when you would hear all about this encounter. You had been hearing about Mr Norwood for a few days now, and it was endearing to see how taken Daphne was with him.
“Hmm?” you asked Anthony, having entirely missed what he had said.
“I was just wondering whether you were going to… ask me to dance,” repeated Anthony , uncharacteristically hesitant .
You distractedly took in his words, tearing your eyes away from Daphne and seeing the man in front of you nervously rubbing his neck as he waited for your response.
“Oh, right,” you said, remembering where you were. You were supposed to stop Daphne’s brother from obsessing over her and her suitor, not obsessing over them yourself!
“The past few balls you’ve asked me to dance; I had just come to expect it at this point,” continued Anthony, still seeming a bit off-kilter as he reminded you that dancing with him had become a quasi-routine. “I didn’t know whether I’d done something to upset you or if you simply didn’t feel like dancing tonight.”
Seeing Phillip start to kiss Daphne’s gloved hand out of the corner of your eye brought you back to your senses completely .
“Not at all; I’d love to dance!” you blurted out, turning Anthony so his sister and her admirer were directly behind him.
You quickly grabbed Anthony’s hand and led him to the dance floor, tripping over yourself in an attempt to distract your best friend’s brother.
Almost instinctually, Anthony grabbed your waist to keep you from falling, an arm placed firmly around you as he held you close to him. When you finally felt solid ground again, you met his eyes.
“Thank you,” you breathed, suddenly feeling extremely aware of where his hands were placed and just how close your chest was to his. “I’ve just been a tad distracted tonight,” you apologized, doing your best to ignore how close his mouth was to yours.
Once again, as had become habitual, the pair of you began to dance. In all honesty, it was a delightful endeavor, at least for you. It was quite unexplainable, really, but you and Anthony seemed to move as one, and you had never expected something as simple as a dance to feel so … right.
“This is the first time you’ve asked me to dance, you know,” you teased Anthony as he spun you around.
“Is it?” he responded, amused at your observation. “Would you like me to call on you tomorrow, too, or is asking you for a dance enough?”
You knew he was only teasing, but you grew flustered nonetheless, tripping over your feet and almost falling to the ground once again. Even though Anthony was there to steady you with a hand on your hip and another wrapped around you, you ripped his hands away from you.
“No! That wasn’t– I mean, I didn’t–” you spluttered, an unexplained panic rising in you.
“I was only joking, Y/N,” he said softly, eyes wide as he took in your extreme reaction to what was meant to be a light-hearted comment. He supposed you very well and truly weren’t interested in him. And though this was a fact he knew already, this did nothing to quell the slight pang of disappointment he felt as he looked at the beautiful woman in front of him.
As the music ended and he led you back to the crowd, Anthony muttered to himself , “Though there are only so many times we can dance without courting before it’s considered improper.”
He shouldn’t have asked you to dance tonight, he scolded himself. Look at you, practically trembling at the mere idea of Anthony calling on you tomorrow. He should have just let it lie and not come to talk to you tonight. As was his nature, he would never forgive himself if your standing in the ton suffered because of a silly crush he could never act upon.
“Would it really be considered a scandal?” you inquired, feeling a tad self-conscious because you and Anthony had danced at every ball for the last two weeks.
Mortified, he turned to face you properly. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he apologized. “But I promise you have nothing to worry about. It's only been a few dances, and seeing how close you are to our family it's hardly worthy of any gossip.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, you nodded at Anthony, feeling much more calm .
Trying to lighten the mood, you teased him. “I didn’t know you cared what people thought of you, seeing how you’re the biggest rake in all of England, and probably beyond, too."
He rolled his eyes bashfully, never until this moment having felt embarrassed about how easily he was able to charm women, unmarried or otherwise.
“Well, I don’t care about what it means for me,” he said as if it were obvious. “I have no plans to marry anytime soon. But I’d like for you to be able to court anyone you want whenever you feel ready.”
“Oh,” you breathed, taken aback by how earnest Anthony was being . “I didn’t know you were so concerned about my prospects,” you said finally .
Quite nonchalantly, Anthony responded , “I vowed to my father to take care of you and my sisters, and I have no plans of betraying that promise.”
You felt your face growing hot. Perhaps it was the sincerity of the Bridgerton’s words, or perhaps it was how easily he showed his concern for you, but you had never felt quite so taken care of.
Your mouth was wholly uncooperative, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, you reached for Anthony’s hand and squeezed it, hoping it was enough to communicate how much you appreciated him.
His easy smile as he squeezed your hand back told you that he had heard your message with clarity.
Turning to scan the ballroom, Anthony grumbled, “Now where on Earth is Daphne? If she’s with that Norwood fellow again I swear I’ll ban her from leaving the house again.”
“I'm sure I have no idea,” you said innocently, having just seen the pair hand in hand as they made their way to the dance floor.
“Good-for-nothing rake without even so much as a title,” he muttered, setting off in the direction of his mother in the hope that she would know where Daphne was.
You shook your head amusedly. It was alarmingly easy to slip into this routine with him. You had known the Bridgertons for most of your life, but it had never felt so … natural with any of the other boys in the family as it did with Anthony recently.
But you paid this no mind. At least Daphne was getting to find a love match, Phillip Norwood or otherwise. So what if you were having a bit of fun with your ploy? You got to dance at ton balls without having to court anyone and watch your best friend fall in love at the same time. There didn’t really seem to be any downsides to Daphne’s little plan .
—
“Daphne, I can’t do that,” you insisted, your voice firm. "I don't even want to do that!"
“Please, Y/N. It’s the only way,” she begged.
Standing in front of you in your sunroom, on a perfectly normal Friday, she was asking you to start properly courting Anthony. As if it wasn't one of the most preposterous things you'd ever heard. As if your worth in society as a woman came almost entirely from whom you married, and she was asking you to make a mockery of it.
It had been two weeks of you breaking all social norms and asking Anthony to dance with you, and in the meantime, Daphne had managed to find a gentleman she actually liked. You should have known from the way she looked at Phillip, but it seemed that Mr Norwood wasn't just another suitor. He truly seemed to make your best friend happy, but you wondered if it was worth it for you if you had to court her brother.
Setting your feelings aside, you remembered that hadn’t seen Daphne this happy since before she came out last year, and it was upsetting to know that it could all go away if you decided to discontinue your ruse.
“Daphne, I don’t know that this is such a good idea,” you said, not as resistant as earlier but certainly not on board. Yet. "What is your goal with this? I can't for the life of me see how this would be more effective than just continuing to dance with him.”
“I would never force you to do this, and I would never want you to feel like you have to do it,” Daphne started, prioritizing your friendship as usual. “You are correct. Getting the chance to meet Mr Norwood has been absolutely wonderful and I am forever grateful to you for it. However, one dance every other evening is simply not enough to build a courtship. I need to properly be able to actually speak with Phillip when he calls on me , and I can’t very well do that if Anthony is watching me like a hawk. I would be able to do all of the regular courtship activities my brother does not allow me to if he is busy courting someone himself.”
Admittedly, she had a point. You found yourself nodding, not terribly repulsed by the idea of having Anthony show up at your door the morning after a ball with a bouquet, despite what you'd told Daphne earlier.
“But how exactly would this end?” you pressed. “Anthony and I can’t very well get married.”
Though you wanted nothing more than happiness and fulfillment for your best friend, courting the most well-known rake in all of Mayfair could have consequences for you, too. It was true, you weren’t particularly interested in marrying this season, but being romantically associated with the likes of Anthony Bridgerton was bound to start some gossip around Mayfair. So would ending said romantic association, which you knew had to happen eventually. As much as he was a rake, Anthony was one of the most desired bachelors in polite society, and ending a courtship with him might inadvertently harm your social standing.
Squealing, Daphne grabbed your hands and led you to the chaise near the window. As you sat down, she started talking excitedly.
“Well, it would only be for a few weeks . A month, at most. Or at least until it’s obvious enough that we’re getting married and my brother can’t do anything about it,” she assured you. “That will be enough time to have a proper courtship, and you can break things off with Anthony.”
You hum, deep in thought. “Won’t Anthony be upset?” you asked. Daphne knew him best, of course, but this seemed like the sort of thing that would tick off a man. That is, starting a courtship that was never bound to result in anything.
“You know he has no interest in marrying anyway, so I doubt you ending the courtship would be of concern.”
“That’s a fair point,” you agreed reluctantly. “ He did mention that it might be seen as improper that we dance together so often yet aren’t properly courting. And though I don’t want to marry this season, I would eventually like to find someone. So I suppose this is what makes the most sense.”
Daphne squealed again, reaching over to hug you. “Oh, you truly are the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”
You giggled at her excitement, relieved that you could help your best friend find a fairy-tale love. And besides, you wouldn’t mind having to spend more time with Anthony.