Work Text:
April 1848
If Anthony Bridgerton was an ogre over Charlotte’s season, then he was an absolute demon over Mary’s.
Mary was his baby. His angel. That was the nickname everyone had for Mary Bridgerton.
Angel.
She was the angel of everyone’s hearts. Both Anthony and Kate, couldn’t have been prouder of their baby girl. When she was younger, she scolded her brothers and cousins for trampling over daisies and buttercups. All flowers, all trees, all animals were like people and she’d talk to them, sing to them and love them.
When she found wounded animals, she’d try and nurse them back to health and grew fiercely angry over mistreatment of horses. A trait she shared with her eldest brother, as well as their dark hair.
Her heart was a never-ending well of love, for everyone, everything. She adored her parents and her siblings, and they cherished her in return. When her siblings had children, she became their favourite ‘Aunt Mary.’ It made Kate’s heart sing, watching her youngest chase her grandchildren around the grounds of Aubrey Hall.
Mary would make a brilliant mother.
As she grew older, Mary begged to accompany her father and brother on their visits to their tenants, bringing them baskets of food or bouquets of flowers that she’d picked herself. She became quickly known as ‘The Angel of Aubrey Hall’ and the servants all called her ‘Angel of the House.’
Most recently, she’d become rather charmed with a young lady named Florence Nightinggale and her parents could tell that she was just itching to run off and join her team of nurses.
Anthony refused to even entertain the idea.
“It’s bad enough our eldest son could take a bullet at any given moment or sent off to God knows where!” He’d snapped one evening, when Kate gently tried to broach the subject. “I will not have our daughter faced with those horrors too. I’m going to tell Eloise to stop indulging this fanciful nonsense. Just because she decided to run off and let us all worry ourselves sick - ”
“Darling -”
“Anything could happen to her out there Kate! I know Mary’s headstrong, but she’s been too sheltered. She doesn’t know what the world is like…”
And that was the problem which kept Anthony up at night. Mary was far too innocent, too kind and trusting for the wolves of the ton. They’d see her as easy prey and move in for the kill.
Of course, she’d have her parents guarding her, the last baby bird of the nest, but it might not be enough…
Anthony retreated to his study on the evening of Mary’s first ball, eager for a stiff drink. They’d opted to hold the ball at Bridgerton House so it would be on their turf, thus opening the season of 1848.
Anthony poured himself a large glass of whiskey, just as the door opened. His wife entered, nodding toward the glass in his hand.
“Dutch courage?” She asked, a smile playing upon her lips.
Anthony merely raised the glass at her.
“Give us some then.” Kate ordered softly, plucking the glass from his hand. She took a deep sip, her eyes never leaving his.
Anthony’s eyes glowed. Even after all these years, after children and grandchildren, Kate could still ignite the flame of desire inside Anthony’s heart and soul.
“So, what’s troubling you this time?” She asked, handing him back the glass and rubbing his arm tenderly. “We thought you were bad with Charlotte but Mary’s -”
“Our baby.” He finished, downing his glass. “And you know what she’s like. She’s gentle and kind and so young. In fact, we should delay her season for just another year!”
“Anthony, you wanted to delay Charlotte too, remember? And what happened?” Kate chuckled at the memory of her daughter domineering both her seasons, “She ate them alive. Including all those rakes you threatened to throw into the serpentine.”
“Then she ended up marrying the biggest one of them all.” Anthony muttered bitterly.
“Reforming the biggest one of them all.” Kate corrected with a smirk. “And then two years later, Edmund married the reformed rake’s little sister! They have five children between them and now we can’t escape the Kinross clan.”
Anthony grunted, but his features softened. He doted on his grandchildren. He never thought he’d even live to see them and now, he enjoyed every second he had with them.
Kate reached up to stroke his cheek, “Things will work out for the best. You’ll see.”
“All right, all right you’ve made your point, so it worked out in the end for Charlotte.” Anthony all but snapped. “But Mary’s different.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears, “With Charlotte, she has such an energetic, outgoing personality but she’s very intuitive. She always has been. Her spirit is like yours. Like Hyacinth’s too.” He added, with a small twitch of the cheek. “But Mary likes to see the good in people. Even if they’re nothing but trouble, she’ll always see the good in them. And while I love that about her, I’m afraid all those merry fortune hunting bastards will use that as - as a stick to beat her with.”
Anthony’s voice cracked, saying the words out loud. Voicing his fears was still something he wasn’t used to, even after all these years. But Kate somehow, brought it all tumbling forth like a dam, once broken. Now he couldn’t stop. The tears wouldn’t stop.
Kate gasped, tears prickling her own eyes at the image. The one her husband had suddenly conjured. Of Mary getting used and abused, hurt and betrayed by some no-good wretch!
“Anthony, please stop doing this to yourself.” She begged, clutching at her husband.
Anthony dropped his forehead to rest against hers, whispering, “I can’t help it my love. I’m sorry. I love my family too much and great worry is the price one must pay to ensure their happiness.”
Kate couldn’t argue with that. So she just slipped her arms around his waist and held him.
They held each other for the longest time, when the powerful voice of their eldest son shouted down the hall:
“General Father, Commander Mother? Where for art thou?”
Anthony and Kate unpeeled themselves from each other. Anthony frowned, “Edmund?”
“We’re in here Captain!” Kate called, wiping her eyes and straightening Anthony’s cravat.
“What’s he doing here so early?” Anthony asked suspiciously. Both their boys lived in the new, influential neighbourhood of Belgravia with their families. And whilst they still knew how much their father loathed tardiness, arriving two hours early was a bit much.
“You didn’t think I’d let you sit here alone and stew in worry? Did you?” Kate responded brightly.
“Why am I always the General and you get to be the Commander?” He grumbled.
“You really want an answer to that?”
Anthony opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by a sharp rap on the study door. Their son’s voice called through the oak: “Shall I cover my eyes or are you both decent?”
Anthony snorted. Kate blushed. “You can come in Edmund!”
Edmund poked his head round the door, his hand covering his eyes. He peered through the slits of his fingers, “Just checking. Growing up with you two as parents have taught us to always be on our guard.” He stepped into the room, in his full red regimental kit, his chest adored with medals and looking every inch, the dashing soldier. “It’s a skill I carried with me into the army.”
Kate pointed to Edmund’s decorative lance, hanging off his waist. “Good Lord Edmund, is that your sword?”
Edmund smirked, unable to resist responding with, “That’s rather a personal question Mother.”
Anthony choked out a laugh.
Kate blushed a deep scarlet, “You’re as bad as your father!”
Edmund’s smirk vanished. “Well, I didn’t need to know that!"
“How are the twins?” Anthony asked, trying not to gush. He couldn’t help it. Any thought or talk of his grandchildren made him melt.
“Bertie’s shaken off his cold thank God. And Lizzie begged me to come along to the ball. I did say no,” He added with a grin, seeing his father’s expression, “Don’t fret Father, we still have plenty of time to sedate ourselves till she comes out.”
“Good. Let me enjoy spoiling my granddaughter for a little longer please. What’s with the military get up?” Anthony asked, nodding toward his son’s attire.
“Oh.” Edmund straightened up, towering over them both, “I hope it serves as a warning to any rogue who tries to push it with my baby sister.” He fiddled with his golden cuffs, “She’s got a big brother, who knows how to use a gun and never misses his target.” He pulled his sword out halfway, “And he can cut up a pretty face rather well.” He slid the blade back with a sharp slicing sound.
Kate winced.
Anthony swallowed, taken aback and rather impressed by his son’s intimidating presence. “Well… that is certainly true.”
“He also wants to show off.” Came a familiar, sardonic voice from the hallway.
Miles sauntered into the study, looking handsome in his coat and tails. He nodded at each of his parents in turn, “Mother. Father.”
“Miles!” Anthony exclaimed in surprise, “What are you doing here so early, I thought you’d still be at - work?”
Miles gave him a wry smile, “It’s all right Father, you don’t have to keep spitting the word ‘work’ out anymore. It’s been about ten years, my business is thriving thank you. I decided to leave the office early today. It’s an important evening after all.”
“So how is the life of steam engines?” Kate asked, brushing a lock of hair off her son’s forehead.
“Still chugging along nicely and making me – us - very rich thank you Mother.” Miles replied, ducking out of her waving hands.
Anthony shook his head in a petulant manner, “You could still accept your allowance.”
“No Papa. Save it as an extra portion for Mary’s dowry.” Miles suggested.
Anthony just scowled in response, “I might as well present her gift wrapped to the fortune hunters!”
“You don’t have to tell them.” Edmund said casually, “Withhold her amount until the poor man comes in here to ask for her hand.”
“It’s your money!” Anthony said in exasperation, “I wish you’d both just take it! My brothers did.”
Edmund shrugged, “Different times, different Bridgertons Father.”
“Second sons aren’t content to just sit around anymore.” Miles added, “At least – this one isn’t.”
Both their sons were infuriatingly independent, determined not to be thought of as ‘wet behind the ears.’ They refused their allowance on a monthly basis, determined to carve out their own careers. Edmund in the army, rising up the ranks and becoming an official member of Prince Albert’s household. And Miles – ever the pioneer - started his own steam engine business, through years of hard work and diligence.
Whilst Anthony was fiercely proud of his sons and their decision to go at it alone, he also felt rather put out that he was no longer needed. Rather than spend the money left for his sons, Anthony squirrelled it all away in a trust fund for each of them - should a rainy day or thunderstorm arise.
They’d thank him in the long run.
Another familiar, lighter voice echoed toward them, “Ned? Miles?”
“In here Char!” Edmund and Miles hollered back, in unison.
“What’s - what’s Charlotte doing here now?” Anthony sputtered, “I thought her and – and Kinross were arriving together!”
“Call him by his name, Father,” Edmund laughed.
Charlotte, the Marchioness of Kinross, breezed into the room. “Oh. You’re all dressed and ready.” She eyed Edmund’s attire, scoffing, “Someone’s playing dress up.”
“It’s for Mary benefit!” He snapped.
“Speaking of dress up, that’s a very liberal dress for your sister’s first ball Char?” Miles said, nodding at her tea gown.
She made a face at him. “My maid brought all my things here, if you must know. I’m going to get ready in my old room.”
“You are?” Anthony countered in a fluster. He turned to his wife, “She is? Why did no one tell me?”
“We’re telling you now.” Kate said with a wide smile.
Anthony narrowed his eyes, “What are you up to Lady Bridgerton?”
“Who says I’m up to anything?”
Charlotte shrugged off her coat, “Where’s Baby?”
“Still fretting upstairs, trying to match her jewellery to her gown.” Kate replied with a sigh.
“Poor darling.” Charlotte, tugging the fingers of her gloves off. “I’ll go up and see her.”
Anthony cleared his throat loudly. “May I ask what you’re all doing here?”
His three eldest children blinked at him.
Charlotte pretended pout, “We grew up here Daddy. Are we not allowed to visit Bridgerton House whenever we want?”
“Don’t be silly, of course you are.” Anthony said, his cheeks colouring. “I’m just… surprised to see you all here together. That’s all.”
“Mother said you needed reinforcements for tonight.” Edmund said simply. “So, I assembled the troops. Well…” He pointedly eyed his siblings, “The ones on the frontline anyway. The rest of them will arrive later. I’ve created vantage points for them on the battlefield – ballroom.”
“Good God you need a hobby Brother.” Miles muttered.
Edmund glared at him.
Anthony laughed. Truly laughed. He felt the comfort of his family in the study with him, as his children bickered under his father’s portrait and his wife’s hand firmly gripping his. Anthony finally felt the tension weighing upon his shoulders…begin to ease.
He turned to his wife and pulled her close, “You did this. Didn’t you?”
Kate gave him a coy smile, “Perhaps… a wife just hated to see her husband tearing himself apart over their youngest. And it reminded her of just how much a brilliant father he is. So she strived to do something about it.”
Two hours later, their ballroom was teeming with guests – all esteemed bachelors, maidens and politicians.
After excusing themselves from hosting duties, Anthony and Kate gathered at the foot of the staircase with their sons. They wanted to be the first ones to see Mary make her grand entrance.
Charlotte skipped downstairs, all dressed in her finery and glittering with jewels. Anthony raised a brow at Kate. Clearly, their son-in-law, the Marquess of Kinross, spared no expense when it came to Charlotte.
She clapped her hands, “Presenting – Miss Mary Edwina Bridgerton!
Anthony had been holding his breath until Mary made her appearance. She appeared at the top of the stairs, her hands fluttering around her necklace as she fussed. Anthony released his breath, slowly.
His daughter was so beautiful and so grown up.
Mary nervously, but gracefully, flitted downstairs, reminding her parents of the baby birds she loved to nurse. She wore a dress of shimmering pink, the fabric of her skirt bunched in one hand. The Bridgerton jewels graced her ears and neck. A small tiara rested on her dark curls. She gave her family an enchanting smile, searching their faces for approval.
Anthony heart stuttered. He could only think of one person.
Kate.
Mary was Kate’s miniature in the way Miles was his.
Edmund ran up the rest of the staircase and offered her his arm, “Miss Bridgerton, looking very lovely this evening, I see.”
Mary giggled, bobbing into a curtsey to humour him, “Captain Bridgerton, looking very dashing this evening, I see.”
He escorted her downstairs and handed her to their father. Anthony’s throat closed up and tears pricked his eyes at the sight of his eldest and youngest together. He gripped Mary’s hand tightly, suddenly not wanting to let go.
“Do you think the jewellery is a bit much Papa?” Mary asked, noting his stunned silence and strong grip. She twisted her necklace around her finger, “I don’t want to seem too ostentatious.”
“Not at all. You look absolutely beautiful my angel.” Anthony said, his voice trembling with love, fear and happiness. He kissed her hand, then her forehead, closing his eyes and remembering how he kissed her tiny hand and forehead, the day they put her in his arms. His small, sweet, bundle of joy.
“Here’s the plan,” Anthony said, his voice gruff, “Mary, you and I shall go in first, followed by Edmund escorting your mother and Miles and Charlotte, bringing up the rear. I know I should escort Charlotte first, because she outranks us all as a Marchioness, but -”
“This is your night Mary.” Charlotte interrupted with a smile. “And we Bridgertons have never been one for doing things properly.”
“Amen to that!” Kate chanted.
“I can’t believe you all came to see me off.” Mary said, in awe. “I thought I’d be on my own, at least for this part.”
“We’re a team Mary.” Edmund said firmly, “There’s no I in team. I know you’re the baby and perhaps we’ve been unfair in treating you like one for so long. But we’re always going to be here for you. No matter what.”
Miles stepped forward with a smile. “I wonder what they’ll call you after tonight. Angel of the Ballroom? Angel of the Dance?”
“Miles, really! Mary scolded, though she tried not to preen under all the attention. She was still a young lady after all.
“Angel of the Season, most definitely.” Kate said, her eyes glistening. She tucked a dark curl behind her daughter’s ear.
“All right angel, ready to spread your wings?” Anthony asked, smiling, though inside he was crying.
“Ready.” Mary affirmed, flustered with nerves once more.
Anthony placed a reassuring hand on her arm. She was instantly calmed. “Lean on me darling. You’ll be fine.”
“And we’ll be right behind you.” Kate added, with a reassuring smile.
Mary nodded, looping her arm through her father’s. Anthony tugged at his cravat, suddenly feeling rather hot. A sinking feeling churned in his gut. The only time he ever felt like this, was when he walked Charlotte down the aisle.
Then he felt a small hand at his back. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his wife and eldest son giving him an encouraging smile. Behind them, his youngest son and eldest daughter.
After so many years of looking after others.
His family were looking after him.