Chapter Text
Sophie’s words rang through Michael’s ears as he watched Benedict walk his friend from the ballroom.
It had been fun to help wind him up, he had managed to charm Penelope into telling him why everyone was teasing Benedict and why everyone was dancing with Sophie.
He has always admired her when he’d modelled for Penwood when they were both 18, he worked with her father and the male fashions so didn’t have much dealing with the designers Sophie ran for but he’d always made time to stand and chat to her.
He’d left only weeks before her father died and he’d gone off to university and then he had ran away and left behind a friend, and now he looked back, he was probably one of Sophie’s only friends at the time.
But that wasn’t what haunted Michael now, it wasn't what kept him awake at night, it wasn’t what had haunted him all those years he had been away.
He had fallen in love with Francesca the moment he met her, his cousin, his best friend and his brother had brought home this 16 year old girl, Michael had been sceptical, there was a 4 year age gap and whilst it was legal… he has been worried but the moment he saw her, she was stunning, sly and had a beautiful soul. The sparkle in her eyes, he had been lost.
She might have been 16 but her soul seemed almost like it was 10 years older, there was something about Francesca Bridgerton, that drew him in and the day that John finished things with Francesca, he had called him and said that it wasn’t working with Francesca and he couldn’t be with someone that he could see his best friend was in love with… it didn’t feel right. John and returned to Scotland and Francesca had called him in floods of tears over it, they were all good friends, the three musketeers, Fran had even planned to join the family business, her future with John had been set and it just just been ripped from her, and he was a coward and he hadn’t known what to do he had hopped on the first plane out and had hidden in India, hoping to forget her.
Still he hadn’t been able to forget Fran and as he came back to London, she had been the first person he had contacted, well, after John and his wife Rebecca. John had offered Michael a position in the family business, letting him take his rightful place in the family business, which Michael had taken, and had been loving. Over the intervening years he had seen Fran on her brother’s social medias, her page was public she had stalked her, being ever so careful never to be near a like button… he would trawl for hours just looking at the stunning woman she was growing into and it made his heart ache and yearn for her.
Since coming back he had realised how much had changed, Fran invited him to her brother’s engagement and he had seen Sophie again, he hadn’t realised how much stuff had happened to Sophie while he had been away, he hated himself for leaving her to that fate... but the one thing he realised that hadn’t changed was his feelings for Fran. Their old endless banter had returned with ease, he had thought he was over her… but he wasn’t.
He had loved her then and he still loved her now. He still dreamed of her. No matter how many women he was with, it didn’t matter, all that seemed to echo in his brain was Francesca. She was everything he ever wanted… and everything he needed and everything he knew he’d never have.
He made friends that night, he had met old friends, reconnected with Colin and Sophie, and met the future Bridgerton’s and from the way the taller one was staring at Sophie constantly, and glaring at him, he knew Sophie would be well on her way to being one. Penelope was an absolute ray of sunshine and light, he had heard all about her years ago and meeting her in person was just… a pleasure. She was witty and funny and far too good for Colin but they seemed happy.
Michael had caught up quickly on everything that had happened and alongside Francesca, had been there each day of the court case, he had been there to celebrate and then tonight, he was there at the charity event, he had thought that his feelings for Francesca hadn’t been obvious but when Sophie had just bluntly asked him, out right “How long have you been in love with Francesca for?” he had felt his heart drop.
He couldn’t lie to Sophie, he has never been able to lie to her, she just had a face that made you want to pour your heart and soul out too.
He’d told her the truth and she told him to tell Francesca how he felt. How was he supposed to tell the woman whose first love had been his cousin that he loved her, it just didn’t seem right.
He’s said he would think about it.
He was dancing a last dance with Francesca and he had watched as Benedict led Sophie away Francesca had watched them with a small knowing smile on her face “They met a year ago today” she told him, in a knowing sort of edge to her voice
“Did they really?” Michael asked, watching them.
“Yeah, though she left at midnight, Ben was very sulky for 6 months before they found each other again” Francesca said with a smile as he twirled her around. She looked beautiful in the blue evening dress she had on, she always looked beautiful to him but those colours just seemed to make her radiate even more.
Her comment about finding each other again made his heart stumble. Maybe Sophie was right, maybe he did need to tell her, she wasn’t 16/17 anymore. She was a woman, she was 21… they weren’t kids anymore…
When the evening was over and everyone had left, Simon and Kate got everyone to gather around, no one really knew why but everyone was so comfortable with everyone that they were just talking and drinking, waiting for their hostess to reappear.
And reappear they did.
With news that made everyone so happy and joyful, they were engaged, Michael could see the glow of his old friend and he felt happy for her, true joy for his friend. Sophie deserved the happiness and the joy of a loving family, a husband who adored her and would worship her.
Champagne flowed, he watched as the family celebrated, he felt like an interloper in such a private event but as Sophie had hugged him, hell even as Benedict hugged him, he felt a strange sense of belonging, like he wanted to be part of this crazy family, in some part.
Be it through his past with Sophie, his blossoming friendship with Penelope, or maybe… just maybe some sort of future with Francesca… he wanted to be a Bridgerton so badly.
As everyone started to leave, Michael noticed Benedict and Sophie could barely keep their hands off each other, the same with Kate and Anthony and Colin and Penelope had disappeared 20 minutes earlier. Eloise and Edwina were heading home and Fran, who was probably more than a little tipsy that she had ever been in her life, Lived alone.
As his tolerance for Alcohol was quite high, thanks to the Kilmartin Whiskey he had been drinking since the age of 12 he was sober enough to take Fran home.
It wasn’t a long walk and Fran was just so happy as they walked, she seemed free, as she walked and it made his heart swell with happiness and love for this woman.
As she held onto him, as she skipped alongside him she sighed “I want a love story like Ben and Sophie’s” she sighed dreamily as they turned on her street “after everything they went through, everything Sophie went through, they found their soulmate… it’s just something out of a fairytale” she said dreamily.
Michael felt a pain in his heart, that was what Francesca deserved, it was she should have, yes he knew he would make her happy but he never once thought that it would be epic love story a one that would live in family folklore, be passed from child to child as a fairytale before bed… it just wouldn’t… and that killed him.
“Here we are,” he said as they got to her door.
Francesca fumbled with the handle on her bag and as she got her keys out she dropped them “oopsies” she giggled.
Michael stooped down and picked them up and unlocked her door for her, they were standing impossibly close together, he could see the little freckles on her cheek, the ring of gold around her eyes and he could smell her. The intoxicating scent of her perfume filled his lungs as he closed his eyes “Night Frannie” he said waiting for her to walk away from him, to close the door.
Maybe it was time he left, maybe he shouldn’t stick around… but then something happened.
He felt lips against his, hands on his jacket, the lips pressed firmly against his for all of a moment, just enough that he was sure he was dreaming, but enough to know that he was not and then she was gone.
“Mike…” Fran’s voice came sounding more sober than it had all night, “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death” her voice said and his brain completely stopped working, it stalled as angels seemed to be singing in his ears, he was quiet, he couldn’t make his mouth work, he stood there for a good 2 or 3 minutes unable to utter a word but as his brain kicked into gear to response respond, the door closed with a click and he heard the turn of the key…
That was his chance and he had missed it...