1815

Title: 1815
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandom(s): Bridgerton/Pride&Prejudice
Pairings: Anthony/Georgiana, (past) Georgiana/Wickham, (slight) Anthony/Edwina, Darcy/Elizabeth, Eloise/Mystery Suitor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1k
For: Haru who prompted Anthony Bridgerton/Georgiana Darcy
Warnings: past elopement, underage relationships, 15/30, pining

1815

“… For this is the season that the Viscount Bridgerton intends to take a wife.”  His mother’s arm was on his as she pulled him forward and Anthony looked at her in horror.

Did this woman have any idea what she had just done?

Anthony looked out at all the society misses who were crowding around him, holding out their arms.  He smiled at them politely, and began to fill out their cards.  He did, however, leave the Supper Dance empty.

When the Supper Dance came, he looked around, but he did not see the young lady he was looking for.  Nowhere was there a flash of dark green, a sparkle of green eyes, dark brown curls, or a slight frame.

He spent that dance prowling around the edges of the dancefloor before returning to the dance after the supper had been served.

Of course, Anthony had a list.  A lady must be musical, she must speak several languages, she must be from a good family, she must be a good mother and want several children, she must be well read—the list went on and on.

His family was well aware of this list.

What they did not know was that the list was describing a particular person.

Anthony swiped a copy of his mother’s Lady Whistledown.  There was no mention of the Matlocks.  It appeared they were not in town or at least not causing speculation.  Why would the Matlocks not be in town when one of their number was turning eighteen this year?

There was a reason that Anthony had chosen to take a bride in 1815.  He had chosen the year very carefully.  He did not take a wife the same year Eloise debuted for his own amusement.

He took ices with another young lady and crossed her off his list.

He should have known.  She was a mere copy of the original.

The week pressed on and there was no news.  The Queen was being reluctant to choose her diamond, but Anthony was not much paying attention.  What did he care for diamonds and jewels and young misses in society, when a certain young lady was not in Town?

He remembered when he had first seen her, a girl of just fifteen years of age, walking with her companion in Ramsgate.  She had been so young then, so innocent, and yet still so wondrously beautiful.  Anthony had bowed to her many times on the pavement, but it was not long before he noticed another man was bowing to her and even began walking with her.  He made inquiries—a Mr. Wickham.

Anthony told himself that it was not jealousy, but he had stayed up late and had played cards with Mr. Wickham one night and Wickham could not hold his drink.  He had confessed everything, his childhood history with the lady, the lady’s thirty thousand pounds, his intended elopement.

Anthony had not even gone to bed that night.  He sent an express at once and took up post at a window over the inn’s door, watching everyone’s comings and goings.

The brother could not have arrived soon enough.  The elopement had been thwarted.  The young lady was safe.  Safe for—me? a little voice had whispered inside Anthony when he had seen the young lady walking on her brother’s arm along the walks of Ramsgate, a little cowed and cowardly, but nonetheless safe.

Anthony had wanted to smile at her.  Anthony had wanted to tell her that it had been he who had saved her reputation, but he could not.  He had acted anonymously.  Not even her brother had known from whom the express had been sent.

Anthony had been forced to watch from afar.

At a ball one night in Ramsgate, Anthony had inquired about the family.

“Darcy?” the matron had asked.  “Oh, she’s too young to come dancing!  Barely fifteen!”

“Do you know if she means to come out here in Ramsgate or Bath when she is eighteen?” Anthony had questioned, not liking to gossip, but needing the information nonetheless.

“Darcy well took off with her just this afternoon!”  The matron had sniffed.  “Took her off to London, where she will stay.  Darcy’s mother is a Matlock.  They are London people.”

London people.  So Anthony had stayed and bided his time, and here he was in London at the appointed time, waiting for the Darcy girl to come out in society.—but she had not been presented to the Queen.

Anthony visited Edwina Sharma, and her sister Kate did not like him.  He did not need the hassle, and, besides, he already had his prize.

Another week passed, and he crossed five more young ladies off his list. 

He had his man to call at Darcy and inquire if the family were at home, both the gentleman and the lady.

He was waiting, biting his nails in his study, until his man came back.

“Well?” he inquired.

“Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are at home, but are not accepting visitors as they are lately married,” his man returned, bowing to him.

The brother had gotten married then.  It had not made Whistledown.  “What of the sister?”

“The sister?”

“Yes,” Anthony replied, desperately trying to regulate his tone, “the sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

His man looked perplexed.  “I do not believe there was a sister.”

Perhaps she was with the Matlocks’ then.  He immediately sent inquiry to the Matlocks and waited, again, in his study, only allowing himself to be called to the drawing room when Eloise surprisingly had a suitor. 

His man returned in the meantime and was waiting for him in his study.

“Well?”

“Miss Georgiana Darcy is at Rosings Park with her aunt, Lady Catherine De Bourg.”

Anthony blinked.  “Where is Rosings Park?”

“Kent, if I am well informed.”

So, she was in Kent for the Season. 

His man cleared his throat.  “Mrs Darcy, with the guidance of Lady Matlock, intends to launch her next year.”

Anthony’s blue eyes snapped open.  There was hope then.  He just had to wait another year.  1815, then, would not be the year that the Viscount Bridgerton took a bride.  It would be 1816 if all went well.  1815, however, was looking well for Eloise, if the last half hour was any indication.

The End.