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Chapter Text

When asked why the Bridgerton brood had been named alphabetically, Violet Bridgerton’s simple remark was always “that it seemed quite orderly”.

Yet the Bridgerton siblings were anything but.

The Bridgerton house was a flurry of motion as the family prepared themselves for Daphne and Delilah’s debut into society.

Daphne and Delilah were the only twins in the family, and therefore the only two siblings whose names started with the same letter. But that was where the similarities stopped.
Daphne was the perfect child, who never fussed or cried any more than a baby was wont to do.

Delilah was very loud. She cried and yelled and laughed like a force of nature. It was a wonder the entire ton couldn’t hear the way she wailed when her brothers played tricks on her in their youth.
And now that the girls were eight and ten, their differences were quite stark indeed. They were fraternal twins, the only features shared being their wide eyes and delicately sloped noses.
Where Daphne was willowy, Delilah was quite round. Where Daphne was demure and docile, Delilah was confident and raucous. And where Daphne was elegant, Delilah was decidedly…

“Eloise!”

Not.

Delilah rubbed a hand on her back as she stood. Eloise had yelled, loud enough to wake the dead, for Daphne to hurry. In her surprise, Delilah had slipped down the main stairs and landed rather unceremoniously on the marble floor.

“Do you think she heard me?” Eloise said, smug grin on her face.

Benedict had rushed to Delilah’s side, righting her with ease.

“I think the entirety of London heard you.” He said snarkily.

“Oh Eloise,” Delilah said, readjusting her corset. “don’t rush her. You know this is an important day for her.” While Delilah was just as delighted to be presented into society, she knew that for Daphne it was a far more important affair. Daphne craved a home, craved children…and even more importantly, she desired a love match. But she knew she’d have to be the picture of perfection in order to have as many options for her future (and for their siblings’ futures) as she could.

“I thought you were excited about all this fuss too.” Eloise said, raising a brow.

Delilah sighed.

“I am, truly. But Daphne will be sure to find a match far quicker than I. I can only hope she will leave behind a suitable option once she’s spoken for.”
Delilah was no match for Daphne’s looks. She certainly wasn’t an ogre, but in comparison, Daphne always seemed to burn brighter.
Daphne was the sun. Delilah was the moon.

Delilah more than made up for their physical disparity with her loud and boisterous personality - and her penchant for being the clumsiest woman this side of the Thames.
Yes, Delilah thought, she was quite excited about all of the fuss. But the fuss never seemed to be much excited for her.

They stood huddled, the three of them: Violet, Daphne and Delilah. The two sisters held hands and shared quiet messages of comfort. Like any other set of twins, Daphne and Delilah were able to express themselves without so much as a whisper.

Daphne gave Delilah a look that said “I’m so proud of you.”

Delilah gave one back that said “Don’t make me cry, I’ll ruin my rouge.”

Violet looked into her daughters’ eyes and gave them a blinding smile.

“Oh my girls. Did I ever tell you why I gave you both a D name?”

The girls shook their heads no. They had wondered, over the years, why they were so special as to share a letter.
“Maybe because we’re twins!” Daphne said, 10 years old with chubby little cheeks and large doe eyes.
Delilah had leaned toward her conspiratorially. “Or maybe because we’re special.” She was missing a tooth but still smiling wide as ever.
Daphne had shaken her head at that.

Back in the present, Violet laid a hand on each of her daughter’s cheeks.

“Edmund wanted to name you Daphne and Elizabeth. But I said I wanted to name you Delilah and Elizabeth. We fought so long on the names that we realized we’d forgotten which one of you came first. And then Edmund suggested we give you both a D name, and then we’d both get the names we wanted. There were about twenty other Elizabeth’s that year anyway.”
There were, in fact, many Elizabeth’s their age. Daphne and Delilah found themselves very lucky to have such unique names - there wasn’t a girl in the ton they shared a name with.

The sound of trumpets brought them out of their reverie, as names began to be called. Girl after girl walked forward to present themselves to the Queen.
Daphne shared a giggle with Delilah as they queued up behind the Featherington girls.

The Featheringtons had a rather unfortunate lot in life, seeing as their mother had very eccentric tastes in clothing. Delilah felt the most sorry for Penelope, who was her younger sister Eloise’s closest friend. Penelope had grown up with the Bridgertons, and Delilah found herself wishing she could change Penelope’s last name so she could be separated from her gaudy mother and prissy sisters.

The Featherington girls walked up rather awkwardly, but weren’t doing so bad. That is, until Prudence fainted right before the queen. Delilah remembered Penelope whispering something about a tight corset to Eloise when they’d met outside.

A flurry of whispers broke out among the guests, but once the four female Featheringtons were out of sight, order was restored.
And then it was the Bridgertons’ turn.

Their names were called, and Delilah and Daphne shared one final look of support.

“Daphne if I mess this up for you-“

Daphne scoffed. “You won’t.”

“Yes but if I do..if I trip or fall into something, promise me you will keep walking.”

Daphne have her a very serious look.

“We may not share a face, but we do share a heart. And if you fall, I will fall with you.”

Delilah squeezed her hand, too overcome to say anything else. And then their names were called and they smiled before gliding into the room.

Both girls expertly sauntered towards the queen, their smiles demure and their eyes telling but not giving everything away. They had been trained righteously by Violet since they were toddlers, and the proof was being paraded in front of the members of the ton.
Soft whispers emanated from the corners of the room.

“What a gorgeous face…”

“Both so elegant! I must say..”

“The larger one is surprisingly graceful.”

The Queen herself looked rather pleased with them as they made their way up to where she was seated.
Her eyes scanned both girls hungrily, before she placed her eyes on Delilah.

She gave her a simple nod.

While it wasn’t a declaration of perfection befit the Diamond of the Season, it was still high praise indeed.

Then her eyes settled on Daphne.

Daphne had always been perfect. Delilah never resented her sister for that - in fact she had always supported her sister with all the love she had. So when the Queen said, “Flawless, my dear.”
Delilah almost broke her picture perfect pose and wrapped her twin in an affectionate hug. Almost. They weren’t done until they were out of the room.

Daphne also could barely contain herself. As they bowed and turned, Daphne whispered,
“Did that really just happen!?”

Before Delilah could respond their mother told them people were watching. So the girls instead continued on back to the foyer.
Once out of sight of the ton, Delilah bombarded Daphne with a bear hug.

“Flawless!” She cried, as Daphne laughed.

“My sister! The diamond of the season!”

Daphne pulled back to look at her sister fondly.

“She gave you a nod, Delilah! That’s the next best thing to a Diamond! A jewel in your own right.”
Violet joined them then, tears in her eyes.

“Oh my perfect girls! You were magical.”

Delilah felt magical. All those years of lessons and training had certainly paid off for her and her twin. Daphne was sure to secure an exceptional match, and if Daphne did well in her match, Delilah was sure to do well for herself indeed. Their matches would set the tone for all their other sisters, so that one day Eloise, Francesca and Hyacinth would marry well - or perhaps even above their stations.

Later in the day, as Daphne and Delilah gushed about each other over their family meal, that word came again unbidden to her mind.

Magical.

She looked over her family, from Gregory subtly flinging peas at Hyacinth, to Colin and Benedict riffing on Eloise, Delilah thought there was no better word to describe her feelings.
The Bridgertons were truly magical.

But if anyone was able to break the spell, it would surely be her brother Anthony.

Anthony had always carried a great weight on his shoulders since the day their father died. It was as if, overnight, he had gone from a grinning schoolboy to a somber gentleman. Delilah favored fun and laughter, and she found herself to be the complete polar opposite of Anthony in every way. Because of this, Delilah elected to make Anthony smile as much as humanly possible.

She remembered when she was but four and ten, and Anthony had spent long hours in his office. Delilah didn’t know back then what exactly a viscount did, only that it seemed dreadfully boring. She had peeked her head into the office, noting the vein on Anthony’s temple throbbing away. So, in typical Delilah fashion, she had let out a great big roar.

Anthony had jumped, utterly startled by the intrusion, but when Delilah had stomped inside the office, hands up to look like paws, he had begun laughing.

“I am the king of the jungle!” She cried, leaping all over the place.

“And I command you to get iced cream with your favorite sister!”

Anthony, recovering from his fit of laughter, had waltzed over and thrown Delilah up over his shoulder.
“Pray tell, where will we find iced cream at this time of night?”

Delilah giggled as he tickled her rib. “The kitchens! Anita made it special for me.”

It was not known by any of the Bridgerton siblings at the time, but Delilah had spent all her free time with the servants in the kitchen. They taught her how to make biscuits and prepare tea, and shared gossip with her about any and everything (barring it was appropriate for a young girls ears).

Anthony had paused at that. He set Delilah upright and looked her square in the eyes.

“Have you been hanging around the kitchens?”

Delilah nodded. She knew it was improper, but she also never ever lied. Every time she ever made mischief, she served her time.

“Delilah..” Anthony started, and there was that vein again.

“Anthony.” She mocked, nudging him with her foot. “I like it there. I know one day I will need to be a lady and be in society. That is my duty. But for now I wish to be a little improper.”
Anthony couldn’t help his fond grin. He ruffled Delilah’s hair affectionately and pulled her in for a hug.

“Alright, just a little while longer. But no one can know.”

Delilah grinned mischievously, and Anthony saw a bit of Colin’s grin in it as well. It was their father’s grin.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever told. I trust you.”

Delilah never saw the way Anthony’s face had shifted, the emotion he felt as his younger sister entrusted him with the only secret she ever kept.
Delilah had always been Anthony’s favorite sister.

But Anthony was not Delilah’s favorite brother…at least at the moment.

Daphne was not too fond of him either. He had meddled in Daphne’s prospects.

Delilah had spent the ball dancing with a few men, but none so much as Daphne. The Diamond of the Season had a full dance card right away, but while her card was full her dances were rather short. Anthony was giving all of Daphne’s suitors the third degree.

After dancing with a rather awkward but relatively attractive gentleman, Delilah retired to the side of the ballroom, finding her brother Colin.

“Sister!” He greeted. “Whyever does your face look so ugly?”

“Colin!” Delilah cried, smacking him in the ribs. He placed a hand where she had hit him, and she noticed with satisfaction his groan was quite real. She’d hit him hard.

“And if you must know, it’s Anthony. He’s ruining everything for Daphne.”

Recovered, Colin passed his sister a lemonade. “Ah, yes, ever the overprotective brother. I’m surprised half the men have lasted this long.”

Delilah chewed her bottom lip rather garishly. Young ladies did not chew on their lips for it was unseemly, but at present Delilah did not care.

“What about you?” Colin asked, biting into his biscuit. Hasn’t he inquired as to your suitors?”

Delilah sighed. Men were so ignorant sometimes it blew her mind.

“Well obviously Daphne is the diamond therefore Daphne needs the most shepherding. It would be a miracle for me to make a match before her. Daphne sets the tone for all of us - even if she isn’t older.”

Because Daphne was…well, Daphne.

Daphne was the sun and Delilah was the moon. Everyone basks in Daphne’s warmth all day long, while most are asleep when Delilah should shine.
It had always been this way. And Delilah didn’t mind it.
Or did she?

She’d always been supportive of her sister in every endeavor, and Daphne had shown her the same. So why did she suddenly feel a weight in her stomach that wasn’t there before?
Anthony was hemming and hawing at every man who so much as looked at Daphne, but Anthony was Delilah’s brother. He was both of their brothers, yes, but Anthony was her favorite brother. Her special brother. The one she had trusted with her one and only secret.
So why did it suddenly feel like she wasn’t special at all?

Irritated, she slapped the biscuit out of Colin’s hand.

“Oi!” He cried, but Delilah was already walking away.

She loved all her siblings. She supported them wholeheartedly. There was no way she was going to let this ridiculous feeling get under her skin. She was going to help Daphne find her match, like any good sister. And then she was going to find one of her own.
How hard could it possibly be?

The next morning gave her her answer: it could be very difficult indeed.

No callers had come for Daphne. Anthony had paced the length of the room several times, agitation clear in the set of his shoulders.
“Would you like me to do the lion?” Delilah asked, half-joking.

“I would like to know why every man in the ton is currently at the Featheringtons home and not ours.” Indeed, out the main window they could see several carriages pulled up across the way.
That included Colin…Delilah thought, but she did not wish for Anthony’s heavy glare to be placed upon her. So instead she remained quiet.

But then, there was a set of footsteps from the hall. Everyone turned in great anticipation.

“A caller for Miss Delilah Bridgerton!”

For a moment, Delilah didn’t know what to do.

“Me?!” She cried.

“Oh wonderful Delilah!” Daphne said, her voice genuine. Her mother and brother looked quite pleased too.

The gentleman, whose name was Alexander Jameson, was the same awkward though handsome man she had danced with the night before. Unfortunately, with no suitors for Daphne to distract him, Anthony was able to give Alexander the full treatment.

By the end of the call, he looked a little put out. Delilah did not expect him to call again.
Perhaps Anthony’s attentions on Daphne were somewhat of a blessing. She hadn’t realized quite how much of a nuisance her brother could be if he wanted to.

“Anthony…” Violet said. “You know I have done this before. And I am perfectly capable-“

But then there was another caller. This one was for Daphne.

“Lord Berbrooke to see Miss Daphne Bridgerton.”

Delilah and Daphne’s eyes met lightning fast.

Daphne’s eyes were saying "this can't be happening".

Delilah’s eyes replied, "I’m right here if you need me."

Daphne did her absolute best to be polite to Nigel Berbrooke, but he was a lecherous, uninteresting and, quite frankly, smelly man.
The call lasted no more than a half hour, when Delilah finally decided it was time to retire to her room for a nap, and accidentally smacked right into a very delicate vase on the way out.
Delilah had broken almost everything in Bridgerton house, such was the nature of her clumsiness. This was, of course, the first time she’d ever done it on purpose.

“Oh Delilah!” Daphne cried, knowing instantly what was afoot.

“Oh Mister Berbrooke it has been so delightful to make your acquaintance, but I must tend to my sister.”
Anthony had lunged right to her, and was already lifting her up.

“Delilah, are you alright?” He was asking, his face a mask of concern. No matter how many times Delilah had fallen or broken something, her family was always just as concerned as the last time.
So Delilah winked.

“It happened so suddenly. But I would like to lie down.”

Delilah never lied. But sometimes, she did choose her words carefully, so as to avoid the truth.

Anthony looked as if he might throttle her or laugh out loud, but before he could choose one Daphne had taken Delilah round the waist and was leading her out of the room.
Once they had reached the upstairs hallway, they dissolved into giggles.

“Oh thank you.” Daphne said, taking Delilah’s hands in hers. “You are my savior.”

Delilah bowed gallantly. “My lady.”

“You aren’t hurt, though, are you?” Daphne’s face shifted to one of concern.

Delilah waved a hand dismissively.
“It was nothing compared to the time I fell out of the willow.”
That had resulted in a broken bone and lots of crying. But she was rewarded handsomely for her bravery in the form of chocolate biscuits.

“Daphne..” Delilah said, becoming serious. “Anthony wants to help but I fear he is making things worse.”

She huffed out a breath. “I know…and now I fear I’ve lost my momentum. I’m not sure what to do.”
Delilah, ever the optimist, gave her sister a brilliant smile.

“There’s still time. It was one ball. You can turn this around in no time.”

Daphne smiled at her sisters’ confidence, but internally she wasn’t sure if she could muster the same brave front.

But Delilah knew otherwise. Daphne was the sun.

Surely the ton would bask in her warmth again soon.

Chapter Text

And bask they did.

Soon enough, Daphne seemed to catch the eye of the very eligible Duke of Hastings. Soon, every eye that had turned away was watching the two with utter fascination - and Anthony was left with nothing but a confused expression on his face. He, of course, was still trying to convince Daphne that Lord Berbrooke was a reasonable match. Delilah was delighted that her sister had seemingly found such an enjoyable suitor.

Their Sundays were filled with callers, most for Daphne but some for Delilah as well. It seemed the entirety of London was eagerly awaiting what was sure to be a proposal.
But they waited…and waited…and waited.

Simon seemed to be a perfect choice, and Delilah could see her sister’s face whenever he was around. She liked him. She might even be falling in love with him. It was apparent to everyone with eyes that they were a very good match.

Everyone, that is, but Daphne herself.

“He is a former rake.” She said matter-of-factly, brushing her hair. She and Delilah were sitting in Daphne’s bedroom, as they were wont to do most nights. They of course were discussing The Duke. It had become the topic of most of their conversations of late.

Delilah picked a piece of lint from her nightdress.

“And? Our brother is a rake himself, and we find him to be perfectly lovable indeed.”

Daphne paused mid-stroke to glare at her sister in the mirror.

“That is not the same and you know it.”

Delilah did know it. It was a shoddy attempt to convince Daphne of what was right in front of her. All of Delilah’s tactics had been exhausted by now, and she found herself out of ideas.
At dinner, she’d subtly kicked the Duke. In the sun and blamed it on Daphne. When he came to pick her up for afternoon tea she had tripped her right into his arms. And at their last ball she had even spoken to Simon briefly.

“You like my sister.” She said, adjusting her dance card so it sat comfortably on her wrist.
He smirked over the rim of his lemonade.

“Why else would I be courting her?”

“Exactly!” Delilah cried, almost hitting a server and knocking over a tray of hordeurves. “Unless you mean to toy with her.”

Simon’s face turned serious for a moment. “I do not wish your sister harm. Quite the opposite.”
And yet nothing had spurred the Duke into a proposal.

“Why hasn’t he proposed?” Delilah sighed, collapsing onto the duvet.

Daphne paused, and seemed to think before saying, “We want to take it slowly.”

She had paused, only for a moment, but it was enough for Delilah’s alarm bells to go of. They were twins and there was nothing Daphne could do that she wouldn’t understand in the deepest recesses of her heart. And it went both ways.

Delilah shot up to a sitting position.

“Daphne, you’re hiding something from me.”

Daphne scoffed. “How could I hide anything from anyone in our family?”

Delilah tutted and folded her arms, not convinced.

“Daphne, please. I’m insulted.”

Daphne sighed, long and deep. She mulled something over in her head, and Delilah waited very patiently as her sister made a choice.

“Oh very well!” Daphne said, resigned. “There’s no way I can keep it from you now. You’re almost as bad as Eloise.”

Their younger sister had a tenacity that could rival a dog with a bone.

Daphne placed her brush onto her vanity and turned on her stool, facing Delilah. Her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap, and she looked for a moment as if she would cry.
Delilah knelt before her sister, taking her hands in her own and staring into Daphne’s eyes - the same eyes as her own, one of the few traits they shared- and smiled warmly.
“You can tell me anything. If you fall, I fall with you.”

The tension in Daphne’s shoulders eased, and she finally, finally readied herself.

“The Duke and I…we are lying to everyone.”

Delilah only blinked, waiting for more.

“We made an agreement…that he and I would fake a courtship so that the mamas of the ton would leave him be and so that I may look more desirable among eligible suitors.”
Delilah’s mouth had formed a perfect ‘o’. Daphne and The Duke…were not truly in love?

Delilah had seen their fervent glances, had watched their passionate dancing and long held stares in public. While Delilah may not have any experience with love or men, she thought she could tell the difference between real love and manufactured love. Delilah knew it had to be real, because the look Daphne had when she was with Simon…

It was the look their own mother had, back when their father was alive.

But Daphne was saying it wasn’t real, and there was no way for Delilah to be sure. So she placed that tidbit into the back of her mind and cracked the widest grin she could.

“Daphne you absolute minx!”

She tickled Daphne’s foot and her sister cried out, laughing loudly. She kicked wildly at Delilah, but she’d already moved out of the way.

“I can’t believe you actually pulled one over on the entire ton!”

“Shhhhhhh!” A pale hand came up to her lips, effectively quitting her.

But Delilah brushed it aside.

“Oh we are going to celebrate your cunning!” Delilah said, racing into Daphne’s closet.

She found a pair of slippers and tossed them towards her sister.

“Grab your dressing gown! We’re going on an adventure.”

Daphne looked scandalized.

“It’s the middle of the night!”

Delilah shrugged. “That’s when our brothers and I have the very best adventures.”

There were many nights before Delilah was able to join society where her brothers would leave balls or concerts early and come home drunk as anything. Delilah had discovered this by accident one night, staying too long in the kitchens practicing how to knead dough so she could learn to make bread.

The three eldest brothers had stumbled in that first night, singing and laughing. Delilah thought they looked like they were having the most fun.
“I want to have fun!” She’d said, catching them in the entrance hall. “Let me have fun with you.”

Benedict waved her off. “You’re too young.” The movement of his hand had thrown him off balance, however, and he’d landed on his rump.
The boys began to laugh even harder at that.

“Anthony!” Delilah had cried. “Please will you let me have fun too?”

And Anthony could never deny Delilah a thing, not even if it meant his own death.

“How about we take a walk?” Anthony said, his words stumbling together. “A short one.” He added, when Colin and Benedict shot him an incredulous look.
“She should be in bed..” Colin sighed.

“I’ll be the most fun.” Delilah said, as if that would somehow placate them.

And it turned out that Delilah had actually been the most fun.

She would facilitate races between her brothers on the lawn, or have them guess something impossible for as long as they would go for. Sometimes they sang songs so loudly their neighbors would yell, which would only make them burst into fits of laughter.

And one night, not long before Delilah’s debut, they had actually let her have some alcohol of her own.

“Only a bit.” Benedict had said in warning, offering her tne flask. He had warmed up to her presence con siderably the past few years, and was now more often the first brother to suggest she tag along.
Anthony looked as if he might burst when Benedict had offered her the flask.

“Is this a good idea?” He said, obviously worried.

“Come on!” Colin said. “It’s one swig. It’s not as if we’re far from home.” He gestured to the door of Bridgerton house, which sat some five feet away. It was the perfect time for her to drink, surrounded by her older brothers and right outside their very house. That was what finally allowed Anthony to nod his consent.

Delilah and Colin giggled like mad as she brought the metal container to her lips.

It was so much more pungent than she’d expected, not sweet at all. It had a smoky taste, too, and she coughed once but quickly recovered.

Benedict put his arms out. “Is the ground…not opening wide to swallow us all and drag us to the depths of hell?!” He placed a hand on his heart. “A miracle, indeed.” That had earned a shove from Anthony.
As they walked around the block, Benedict had discreetly passed the flask back to Delilah a few more times, and soon enough she was feeling very tipsy.

As they rounded the corner to head back, Delilah’s eyes had locked onto something. And suddenly she had a crazy idea.

“Benedict!” She cried. “Put me on your shoulders.”

Benedict gave her a look.

“You know I love you but you’re not exactly tiny.”

Delilah elbowed him in the stomach.

“Colin will support me too! Just do it, will you?”

Benedict rolled his eyes but bent down anyway. Colin, always one to go along with a plan, supported her from behind to take some of the weight off Benedict’s shoulders.
“What on earth are you doing?” Anthony asked, as he stared at his siblings, who looked as if they were performing some sort of deranged circus act.

Delilah didn’t answer, but instead directed Benedict to stand near the signpost that read “Governor Square.”

She reached towards the sign and began pulling it rather aggressively. It made an awful creaking sound as she yanked on it.

Benedict stumbled for a moment as he cried, “Are you stealing the sign?!”

Colin was laughing so hard she feared he might let go of her.

Anthony had no idea what to do, so he simply looked on in bewilderment as his sister pulled the Governor Square sign clean off its post.

“Success!” Delilah cried. Her cry had surprised Colin so much he let go of her, and suddenly Benedict began to fold underneath her and they were tumbling to the ground.
For a moment, everything was silent.

And then they were laughing, all four of them, with tears streaming down their faces.

That was, of course, when the night policeman began to make his way towards them.

“You there!” He cried.

And suddenly the four drunk Bridgerton siblings were entirely sober.

They ran as fast as their legs could take them. Delilah tucked the sign under her armpit and ran like her life was on the line. They all slid into Bridgerton house, thankful the officer hadn’t seen them go in.
They collapsed onto the floor, their chests heaving as they caught their breath.

And then they were laughing so loud it wasn’t a wonder none of the other Bridgertons had woken up.

“Delilah Bridgerton…” Anthony said, still catching his breath. “I cannot believe you did that.”

And now, Delilah would induct Daphne into the late night society of Bridgerton hijinks. She grabbed her dressing gown from her own room, laying a hand on the chest where the Governor Swuare sign now rested. She stopped briefly on Anthony’s office to retrieve some libations, and then they were off.

They stepped outside into the cool night, their slippers masking the sound of their footsteps.

“Here.” Delilah said, shoving the flask she’d stolen into Daphne’s hands.

“Brandy?” She said, turning the flask over in her hands.

“Whiskey.” Delilah replied.

Daphne had never had alcohol aside from the odd champagne at balls, Delilah was sure.

For a moment she thought Daphne would say no. She was about to tell her she didn’t have to, that she would never pressure her, when Daphne unscrewed the cap and took a huge gulp.
And Daphne didn’t even cough.

She passed the flask back, her eyes shining with mirth, and Delilah took her own swig.

They couldn’t walk on the streets without their brothers, so the twins set their sights on the garden. They made their way over to the swings and after another swig each, they began to swing back and forth.
“I haven’t done this in ages!” Daphne cried.

They laughed as they swung, but before long grew tired and sat still. The moonlight bathed them both in an ethereal glow and cast long shadows across the grass. Everything was so quiet, it was as if Delilah could hear her own blood moving in her veins.

“Sorry this isn’t a bigger adventure.” Delilah said wearily. “I forgot how sheltered we are without a man on our arm.”

Daphne gave her a dazzling smile. “This is a perfect adventure. A little one, just for us.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, the only sound that of the crickets and the breath coming from their own lungs.

Delilah finally tilted her head towards her sister.

“What will become of you and Simon once you find your match?”

“I don’t know.”

A beat. Delilah figured it was now or never.

“You know what I do know?”

Daphne faced her sister. “What?”

“You like him.”

She didn’t deny it, but she also didn’t say anything else.

“Delilah…even if I do…he only means to pretend. And I need to secure a match soon…for all of us.”

Delilah nodded once. She understood all too well.

She wondered, though, what it would have been for her to be in Daphne’s shoes. If the Queen had looked at her instead, and she had been the diamond and been faced with the pressures of marrying first, would she have done the same thing for her family? Or would she have messed everything up? She could see herself, surrounded by suitors in the formal lounge, and then tripping over the hem of her own skirt and landing in a large chocolate pudding.

It didn’t do to dwell on what-ifs. Daphne bore the responsibility, and Delilah would never know what that was like. She’d always been a little wild, too much so to be the perfect diamond. But if she had been chosen, would she have flourished under the attention, or would her edges have cracked and crumbled beneath the scrutiny?

She felt vile for ever feeling jealous of Daphne, even for a moment. Her sister was lying to everyone she knew just for a chance to secure a suitable match for her family. And here Delilah was, getting her drunk on a swing.

“Let’s head inside.” Delilah said.

“Is our adventure over so soon?” Daphne chuckled. Delilah couldn’t bring herself to smile back.

“It is.”

Delilah returned the flask to her brothers study while Daphne headed to her room alone. Delilah marched up the steps to her own room and threw herself into bed.
Never before had Delilah seen so clearly the glaring differences between her and her sister.

Not their faces or their temperament or even their bodies. No, she and Daphne were different in one very obvious way.

Daphne would always respect propriety - had respected her duty.

And Delilah did everything in her power to avoid it.

There was nothing quite like a morning spent wiling away in the kitchens. Delilah woke up practically at dawn, had slipped on one of her more boring dresses she didn’t mind scuffing up, and headed into the kitchen where servants were beginning to prepare the days’ breakfast.

“There she is!”

Anita was Delilah’s lady’s maid, and she was as fine a confidante as a lady could have. She ushered Delilah into the kitchen and set her to work on chopping some garlic.
The first time Delilah had wandered into the kitchens was when she was 9 or 10. She hadn’t wanted to play dolls with Daphne, and she certainly didn’t want to read like Eloise, so instead she began searching all the nooks and crannies of the house, convinced she might find a surprise -or even treasure.

She’d gotten no more than four steps into the kitchen when Mrs. Colson had spotted her and began walking her backwards and up the servants entrance back into the house.
“Young lady, this is not a place for you!”

“But I want to see!”

“Absolutely not.”

It was a week later, when Delilah was sure Mrs. Colson was otherwise occupied, that she’d finally been able to see everything.

There was something happening in every corner of the room. One person was washing dishes, another burning oil to fry. One person kneaded dough, and another chopped a large trout into tiny little pieces. It was like a machine, each part turning and chugging along to create this beautiful, harmonious thing.

Being a high ranking member of society meant that, unless you were a man, you didn’t work. And ev en the men didn’t really work, they invested and maintained and were polite. No one in the ton ever got their hands dirty, no one ever made anything except silly little paintings and rhymes that sounded like everything else anyone has ever heard.

Even needlepoint seemed entirely pointless compared to the way Anita would scrub the dirt from her family’s clothes or the way Fiona scraped the skin off of a fish before cooking it in the oven. There was busywork, and then there was actual work. And Delilah wanted to do the second.

So after using her best puppy dog eyes and her most beautiful simper, Delilah had convinced Anita to let her help all those years ago by washing vegetables.

And then, over time, washing vegetables became chopping them and chopping them became steaming them and before long, Delilah was an actual cook.

While she wanted to do her own washing all the time, the busy schedule her mother set for her didn’t always allow. She did it whenever she could, enjoying the way the dirt escaped from the linen as she pressed it firmly against the washboard. She liked seeing the results of her labor. She had sat down at many family dinners and enjoyed her food so much more knowing that she’d had a hand in making it. She also helped in the garden sometimes, but those occasions were much rarer as she couldn’t afford to be seen by the other members of her family.

She told her family she was studying or reading or whatever else, and no one really questioned her because no one ever suspected that she would be doing the work of a servant.

When Mrs. Colson had seen her working in the kitchen for the first time, chatting away with the other girls as if nothing was amiss, she’d decided to keep Delilah’s secret. Not many members of the ton would ever dare to set foot in an area meant for servants, let alone help and talk and laugh the way Delilah did.

Mrs. Colson couldn’t help but think it was just the type of thing Mr. Bridgerton would have done when he were alive. He was one of the most generous masters of the house she had ever seen, and that temperament lived on within every single one of his children. But none so much as Delilah.

“What are we making this morning?” Delilah asked, bringing the knife down hard over a particularly precarious piece of garlic.
“Shepherds pie.” Fiona said with a smile.

“For breakfast?”

Anita nodded. “It was that or more mutton. The delivery boy is late again.”

Delilah nodded in understanding.

“So…” Delilah bumped her hip into Anita’s playfully, and she almost dropped the potato she was peeling.

“Any more news on your sailor?”

Anita flushed a deep red that spread all the way down to her chest. She always grew very shy at the mention of Samuel, the man she was in love with. He had met Anita one day in town and took her to his boat, where they shared a very passionate embrace indeed. He had shoved off the next morning, and Anita thought that’s where things would end, until he returned a week ago. He’d been trying to chat with Anita but she was avoiding him, thinking he must only want to pursue more physical pleasures and not those of the heart.

“He keeps trying to find me in town.” Anita said, tossing a potato into a pot. “Shelley said he practically begged her to tell him where i worked, but she pretended not to know me. I just don’t know what to do!” She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, before getting back to her peeling. “Hes so handsome! And very good with his, er….”

“Anchor?” Fiona supplied with a mischievous grin.

The girls laughed wildly, and Delilah laughed along with them. She loved this, the way these women were so open with each other. She wished the women of the ton could be like this.

“What you need to do” started Shelley, who was rolling out the crusts, her northern accent sitting disjointed in the ears, “is March up to that man and tell him what’s what. If he ain’t gonna marry ya, then at least ya know. And if he does, well there ya go.” Shelley was very practical in everything she did. Delilah remembered learning how to cut cookies from her one Christmas.

“Roll the dough out. Slap the thing down. Twist, and pull it back up. Its as easy as going to the chamber pot.”

She’d never remembered hearing anyone mention a chamber pot in polite conversation before.

“What about you?” Anita carried her pot to the stove and set it on a low heat. “Your sisters the diamond, and I see those boys coming to court you every Sunday.”

In truth, none of the men that had called on her were anything like her type. They were all so…bland. While she knew she couldn’t marry a man below her station for fear of ruining her family’s reputation, she worried there was no man in the ton who cared as little for propriety as she did. She didn’t want to give up this life, and she certainly didn’t want to give up the ladies standing before her.
“No luck, I’m afraid. They’re all so..stuffy.”

Fiona let out a low chuckle. “Trust me.” She thrust her hands into the bowl of ground beef before her and began to knead. “Once you get their clothes off, they’re all the same.”

Delilah threw a garlic stem at Fiona’s head, and she laughed and chucked a small bit of meat right back.

This was what Delilah wanted out of life. She wanted to work and she wanted to laugh, and not just with women of her station, women of every station there was. Was it so much to ask that she could do all that and still be an upstanding member of London society?

She stewed on the thought so long, that Friday had turned into Saturday, and before she knew it she was at another ball.

Her mind still churned away, thinking of what she wanted her life to look like. She wanted to do her duty and marry properly, but she also wanted freedom. If she married any of the men who had called on her, she’d be resigned to a life of babies and dress shops and gossip but only the kind meant for a lady’s ears.

She spent her first two dances stewing, barely paying attention to her partners. Whispers were swirling all about a Prince that was attending the ball, but even the gossip couldn’t make her feel better.

She retreated to the lemonade table, and still her mind was restless. Perhaps she needed to find one of her brothers to accompany her outside so she could have some air.

She was on her way to do just that when, to no ones surprise, she tripped on the hem of another girls’ skirt and skidded forward, on her way to the floor.

But she never made it.

A warm, solid thing had caught her. She looked up and found herself looking into the most radiant eyes she’d ever seen.

“Are you alright?” The man asked. His accent was very unique, though she couldn’t quite place it in her daze.

There were hands clutching at her arms, very big warm hands covered in white gloves.

She stared up at this man, realizing she hadn’t said a word and things were becoming awkward. So she said exactly what came to mind.

“I bet you a hundred pounds you’ve never met someone like me.”

It sounded so horrendously cocky, and it wasn’t what she meant to say at all.

I bet you a hundred pounds there’s not a clumsier woman in London. That’s what she’d meant to say. But she was still reeling from those beautiful eyes and her own swirling thoughts, and everything had just become a big jumble in her brain.

“I’d take that wager.” The man said, finally letting go once he was sure she would be ok to stand. He had a lopsided grin that made Delilah go weak in the knees but she forced herself to maintain some sense of propriety when in a room full of people.

“I am so sorry!” She finally said. “I just meant that I’m stupidly clumsy.” She internally groaned. She was not selling herself very well at all.

The man before her was very gracious. “Don’t worry - If anyone asks, the fault was all mine.”
She smiled gratefully.

“Thank you, Mr…?”

“Ah!” He said, straightening. “My apologies. I am Prince Friedrich, I am visiting from Prussia at the behest of my aunt.”

Prince….

From Prussia…

She was talking to the Prince every single woman had been gushing over since the start of the ball! And his aunt must be-

The Queen.

Delilah’s mouth gaped open like a fish for approximately three seconds before she was able to recover.

“Your Highness.” She said, bowing in the customary way. “I cannot believe you had to experience the absolute tyranny of my incoordination.”

He laughed then, and his head went back with it as if it was something so genuinely funny he couldn’t help himself. She stared in awe as his sun kissed hair bobbed with the movement, and when he looked at her again there was a single lock of it resting upon his forehead.

“You are very honest, aren’t you?” He said, a smile dancing upon his lips.

“It’s my number one policy.” She said with a shy grin.

“And who do I have the pleasure of talking to?”

Oh, of course, she hadn’t even introduced herself! All of that training from her mother out the window.

“Delilah Bridgerton, your highness.”

“Bridgerton!” He said. “I met your sister earlier. Daphne, is it?”

She gave him a polite nod.

“Your sister was the picture of Grace, if I may say so.”

Of course she was. She was Daphne. She could charm a prince in her sleep.

All Delilah had managed to do was completely embarrass herself in front of one.

“She is the Diamond of the Season.” Delilah said, trying her best to sound demure the way Daphne would. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Delilah didn’t want to mess this up further (though it was doubtful she could do much more damage than she’d already done) so she decided to extricate herself from the situation.

But before she could utter a single syllable, the Prince surprised her.

“Would you care to dance, Miss Bridgerton?”

Delilah must have looked completely out of sorts, but she once again mustered her courage.

“I would be honored, your highness.”

And then she was being led away and onto the dance floor. Delilah was the clumsiest woman this side of the Thames, this much was true. But when it came to dancing? Delilah was in a
League of her own.

Something about following steps was easy to her, much like learning the recipes of her favorite meals or sums in her math classes.

She may have already shown the Prince her incredible ability to fall over her own two feet, but she would show him that she was more than a bumbling idiot. She could also be graceful, if she wanted.

Why was she suddenly so eager to impress? She supposed he was the first man to show a hint of something other than the same boring chatter most insisted on. And he was handsome. The most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on, in fact.

So yeah, she really wanted to impress him. Even just for one night.

They spent the first few bars of music getting acquainted as partners, but before long she was turning and dipping, and he was very adeptly keeping up with her.

“Considering you quite literally fell into my arms,” the Prince joked, “You are very graceful on the dance floor.”
Delilah tried not to show how pleased she was.

“So, how are you finding London?” She asked, silently nudging the Prince to turn them an extra round. She liked to add steps where she could to make things less boring.
Surprisingly, he let her lead.

“I always enjoy my time in London. Though I usually do not spend it in the confines of society.”

That was intriguing.

“Private business?”

He considered the words. “Of a sort, you could say.”

Private business could be just that…but then again, when it came to important men…

“Are you a rake, then?”

She crossed one foot over the other double time.

He laughed again, a lovely sound that she wouldn’t mind hearing more of.

“Not quite what I typically enjoy, no. But is that an appropriate topic of conversation for a lady such as yourself?”

Catching onto her tricks, he took control of the dance back from her, turning her an extra time in the same manner she had done before.

“Well, you already know I value honesty. So in favor of that,” She spun them counter clockwise instead this time. “I’m not only interested in topics of conversation one deems appropriate.”
The song was coming to its climax, and as they spun it felt as if they were the only two people on the dance floor. His eyes appraised her, as if she was something he couldn’t quite comprehend.
“Well,” he said, his hand at her waist squeezing involuntarily. It sent shivers down her spine. “in favor of honesty, then I will tell you. I usually spend my time in London foraging for parts. I like to..what is the word..tinker.”

It was so completely not on the list of things she’d expected him to say, and that made him so much more interesting than she already found him.
But the dance was ending, and they were bowing, and she had no proper reason to continue talking to him. Funny how she found some rules in the ton were easily broken, while others were not worth the risk.
“Well, your highness, that was probably the best conversation I’ve had the entire season.”

There was a glint of something in his eyes. Perhaps it was the candlelight, but did he look just as intrigued as she was?

No. Not possible.

He was a prince.

She was Delilah.

And even if he did somehow find her to be more than just a nuisance, he was in want of a princess. She was lucky if she would become a countess.
“I wholeheartedly agree.” He said, and it sounded to her as if he truly meant it. “I thank you for your company. And perhaps we may dance again. If not tonight, then sometime soon.”
He wanted to dance with her again?
“You should only keep an eye out for someone tumbling wildly to the floor. Or listen for the sound of breaking glass.”
He laughed again, that beautiful wonderful sound. And then they were parting. And then he was gone.
Oh, Delilah Bridgerton…she thought glumly. What on earth are you going to do now?

Chapter Text

Her unfortunate fall had not, thank heavens, been published in Whistledown. Neither, Delilah thought forlornly, had her dance.
She didn’t necessarily expect it to be reported on, it was not earth shattering news. The Prince had danced with many girls, just as she had danced with many gentleman.
But oh how it felt as if that dance was…monumental. Forget Whistledown, it should be headlining newspapers.
DELIGHTFUL DITZ SOMEHOW MANAGES TO DANCE WITH A GOD AMONG MEN
Well, maybe he wasn’t a god among men…And she wasn’t dim, just a tad unable to keep her feet on the floor.
DELIGHTFUL CLUTZ WALTZES WITH A PRINCE AMONG MEN
That was accurate, wasn’t it? He was a prince, there had been men…
Though it had felt as if he was the only one.
Delilah sighed as she lay in bed the morning after the ball.
She shouldn’t be in such a tizzy over one man. And she’d only spoken to him for a total of ten, maybe fifteen minutes? But he didn’t seem to mind that she wasn’t a perfect little peach, and he had interests that surprised her…
Oh, she was completely gone.
And only after one dance?
She was pathetic.
She needed to tell someone about it. Perhaps with another perspective she’d be able to see just how ridiculous she was being…or maybe how not ridiculous. She’d have to talk to Daphne sometime soon.
At breakfast, however, her hopes of talking to Daphne were thoroughly dashed.
“Oh Daphne!” Violet was saying, “You and the prince would be a fine match would you not?”
Delilah had paused. She daren’t look up in case her face gave anything away.
“Yes, I rather do think we would be a nice match.”
Gutted.
She was completely and utterly gutted.
Daphne was eyeing the prince?
Well then there was no contest. And even if somehow the prince wanted Delilah…well Delilah was not a princess.
Daphne was the sun.
Delilah was the moon.
Daphne was perfection.
Delilah was…improper.
“What do you think, sister?”
Delilah’s head snapped up. Daphne was looking at her expectantly, as well as the rest of the table. She had been stewing again.
“I’m sorry, I was in a bit of a daze. What were we taking about?”
Daphne cut her eggs apart, eyes shining with excitement. “The Prince! What do you think of a match? Between myself and the prince?”
What did Delilah think?
She thought of his hands on her arms, that clear laugh…she thought of one lock of blonde hair nestled against pale skin…
“What about the Duke?” Delilah asked quietly.
Daphne waved a hand. “You said yourself, he hadn’t proposed.” And she gave Delilah a little secret smile that made Delilah’s stomach churn coldly.
“So?” Daphne said, prompting her to give her opinion.
“I think The Prince is most gracious indeed. And I think you two would make complete and utter sense.”
It wasn’t a lie.
But it wasn’t the truth.
“I’m sorry.” Delilah said suddenly, cutting off her brothers’ conversation about who was going to win the upcoming fight between Mondrich and Gillespie.
“I feel quite faint.” She pushed her chair away from the table and made to stand.
“Did you catch something?” Violet said, beginning to stand.
“No, no…” Delilah said, motioning for her to stay. “Im sure it’s nothing. A bit of rest should do me well.”
“I will walk you.” Daphne said, also moving to rise.
Damn how much her family loved her.
“No, please, Daphne stay. I can manage to my room just fine.”
She began to push her chair back into place when Anthony rose.
“I will take you.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but Anthony simply placed a hand up in the air.
“I will take you and that is that. We don’t want you fainting on the way.”
Delilah only nodded.
Once they were outside of the dining room, once they were far enough away, Anthony stopped.
“Do you really have a headache?”
Delilah crossed her arms. “Why would I lie?”
Anthony scoffed. “Technically you didn’t lie. Isn’t that how you always avoid your feelings?”
His words cut right to the bone. She’d had no idea that he knew…that after al these years, he’d somehow figured out something about her Daphne never had.
“Oh don’t look so shocked. You’re my favorite sister, you know.”
A knot inside Delilah’s stomach loosened. She never even realized it was there. All this time she’d spent favoring Anthony above all her other siblings, even her own twin…and yet she’d always feared he didn’t favor her the same.
“I didn’t know.” She said harshly. “You’ve been so worried about Daphne I hardly have had the time to even speak with you.”
His expression, where once it was hard turned immediately soft.
“Delilah…Im so sorry if you’ve felt neglected.”
Tears were coming to her eyes. She couldn’t cry, she wouldn’t.
“No, I haven’t…not truly….oh, Anthony, everything’s so confusing!”
She slumped against the nearest wall and threw her head into her hands.
Anthony sat next to her, elbows resting firmly on his knees.
“Talk to me, Lila.”
And she wanted to. She really, truly did want to let him in. But there was a wall between them, and she wasn’t sure when it had gotten there.
“I’m going to the kitchens.”
She stood then, but just before she could take a step she turned back.
“Just give me time Ant.”

Anita was washing one of her brothers shirts when Delilah arrived. She smiled warmly at the Bridgerton girl, and invited her over to sit by her.
“How’s things?” Anita said cheerfully.
“Awful.” Delilah admitted.
Anita paused in her ministrations. “Well, out with it then. What’s happened?”
So she told her all about the ball, and the prince and Daphne.
At the end of it, Anita screwed her face up in concentration. She tapped a finger to her chin, her mind clearly trying to process everything.
“Has he proposed?” She said finally.
Delilah blushed. “He’s only just come to London. I doubt he’ll be proposing to anyone for at least another two weeks.”
“Well, then you’re gonna just have to make sure he proposes. To you.”
“You want me to try and get him to fall in love with me?”
Anita nodded. “Of course, silly. That’s how things are done, are they not?”
That was indeed how things were done, but didn’t she understand?
“It’s Daphne.” Delilah said, as if that explained everything in great detail.
Anita furrowed her brows. “And?”
“And!” Delilah said, shooting up from her seated position.
“She’s beautiful and she’s smart and she takes to romance like a horse to water. And I…I told him I was clumsy and…” Delilah looked around as if someone might be waiting in the wings to tell Lady Whistledown. “And I fell on him!”
Anita shrugged.
“He danced with you, didn’t he?”
He did dance with her, even after all of her blunders.
Anita began playing with the ends of Delilah’s hair, looking her square in the eye.
“And who says you arent the other things, missy. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. You have the same exact training Daphne did. Even if you don’t use it.”
Why was everything she was saying making sense? She knew everything Daphne knew. She could use those tricks against her like a war general plotting a siege.
But at the heart of it, Delilah knew she couldn’t plot against her sister. She loved her sister. And it was Daphne’s duty to marry someone well off to help with the rest of her family’s prospects. Someone like a Prince.
When she told Anita as much, she again tapped her chin as she thought long and hard.
“Then don’t.”
Delilah waited.
“That’s it?”
Anita gave a single nod. But followed it up with, “You were yourself when you danced with him. So just be that. And if he doesn’t like who you are, then he was never worth it in the first place.”

Be yourself.
It had been her mantra all week, as she listened to Daphne talk all about the prince. It had been her mantra every time Anthony gave her a small smile or a hand on hers. It had been her mantra as she tended to the Hyacinths in the back of Bridgerton house.
She was not going to try to steal the Prince away from Daphne (not that such a thing was even possible). Instead, she was going to do what she had always done.
Support her sister.
That was who she was, who she had always been. When she danced with the Prince on Saturday night, she was going to push him in the right direction. And if he didn’t want Daphne, then no harm done. At least she would know, and then Daphne could find someone more worthy than a Duke who liked to fake courtships. One dance, and it would make or break her sister’s future.
She hoped she wouldn’t sweat through her chemise.
She saw him almost immediately once she arrived. He was being dogged by Cressida Cowper, as usual. She wasn’t sure if The Prince could see through Cressida’s act. The fainting stunt she had pulled at the last ball was one of the most miserable displays Delilah had ever seen. He had been a gentleman about it of course, but surely that was him being polite. He didn’t actually consider Cressida to be a real option?
It was no matter. That was what she was there to find out.
Daphne had been nowhere near ready, so Anthony had taken Delilah early. He didn’t try to make conversation in the carriage, which she was thankful for.
It seemed too improper still to approach the Prince herself. She had to hope he would seek her out. Maybe he didn’t even remember her? Or at the very least, his offer for another dance.
If that were the case, she might have to pretend to fall nearby, so they could start the same way they did before.
Thankfully, faking a misstep wasn’t necessary, because once he spotted her across the crowd, he’d immediately said his goodbyes to Cressida and headed her way.
She tried to ignore the way her heart lurched at that.
“Miss Bridgerton.” He said, once he was standing before her. “Here ten minutes and no call for the medic. I’m impressed.”
She’d forgotten just how handsome he was, with his crystal blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.
For Daphne., she thought and steeled herself.
“Well, one can’t injure herself too early at an event. You have to give the guests something to look forward to.”
He smiled and her heart flipped. She tried to ignore that too.
“I do believe you promised me a dance.” He placed a hand over his heart in mock upset. “You do not want to wound a man and deny him something he has been looking forward to all week.”
She hoped he meant it. She hoped he didn’t.
“I would never dream of it.”
The dance this time was a little slower, which she thought was perfect for what she was trying to do. She needed to be able to hold a conversation with him, without the fear of switching partners or moving so fast it was near impossible to tell one blue from another.
“You said before you were in London at your Aunt’s behest. Perhaps because of the marriage mart?”
He shook his head affectionately. “You really do enjoy topics that are rather improper.”
She shrugged as well as she could while dancing.
“Honesty, remember?”
His eyes flashed. “I couldn’t forget if I tried.”
Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.
“I want to offer you my services. As a member of the ton I’m sure to know a majority of the ladies you are looking at. Might I be able to help you find a suitable wife?”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline.
“You want to help me find a wife?”
“I want to help you explore your options.”
They turned sharply.
“Ok…let’s say I want this. Show me what you have to offer.”
“What do you look for in a wife? What qualities?”
He thought earnestly about the question, and Delilah could not help but notice how adorable his thinking face was.
“I want her to be kind. And gentle. But a little bit wild, too.”
The way he said wild had driven her wild, the way he thrilled in it. She rubbed her thighs together involuntarily.
Delilah scanned the room quickly as their arms brushed backwards and forwards.
“Well for one, if you marry Cressida Cowper I’ll eat one of my gloves.”
There it was, that sound she’d been missing. His laugh.
“If I marry Cressida Cowper..” he spun her. “I’ll eat your glove.”
She laughed too.
“That bad, huh?” She said, her hands sliding to his shoulders.
He puffed out a breath. “That fainting act last week was quite shoddy acting, though I suppose I am no expert.”
He dipped her.
“It didn’t take an expert to see through that.”
Their eyes met, their faces inches apart. His eyes flicked to her lips and back to her eyes.
Then they were spinning again.
“Ok..” she said shakily, hoping not to reveal how affected she was by their sudden closeness.
“Mary Dorset.”
“Not very bright.”
She scanned the crowd again.
“Helena Prewett.”
“Not very pretty.”
Delilah arched a brow at him.
“Picky, are we? Helena is quite pretty.”
He shook his head.
“Not the type of pretty I like.”
“And what kind of pretty do you like?”
He spun her into his arms.
“I like them pretty on the inside. But womanly curves do not hurt.”
Womanly curves? Surely he wasn’t saying…
She had always been a larger girl. That was another thing she found in common with Penelope Featherington. For some reason, as a Bridgerton, it didn’t hinder her pursuits the way it had Penelope. But still, it wasn’t very common for men to like that sort of figure.
She had to move this in the right direction. There were only a few measures of the song left.
“And my sister?” She said quickly.
His brows furrowed at that.
“She is lovely.” He said, pulling her into the finale turn.
She was, wasn’t she?
“But I do not think she would hold my attention.”
The dance was over. She looked Friedeich straight in the eyes, scared he could see all her emotions in them.
He opened his mouth to say something when there was a murmur among the crowd.
Daphne Bridgerton had arrived.
Everyone stared as she made her way down the steps. She wore a beautiful dress of ivory, and had adorned her hair with feathers to match. She was a vision, a delight….
She turned to look at Friedrich, to see his reaction to such a vision.
But when she looked at the Prince, his eyes were already locked on hers.
He hadn’t looked at Daphne.
But then his eyes wandered behind Delilah, to something she couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he gave Delilah a look that seemed to say forgive me.
And then he met Daphne at the bottom of the stairs.
She watched in horror as they greeted one another, and then as she dropped her fan. He was kneeling before her, and suddenly it was all too much. She had to get away.
There was a balcony off to the side, and she flooded her senses with the cool night air.
She had done it for Daphne, hadn’t she? That was what she wanted…wasn’t it?
With a start, she turned and saw Anthony. He must have followed her.
“Delilah…” he said. “I had no idea.”
She shook her head in confusion.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us you had feelings for the Prince?”
Delilah continued to shake her head. No…she thought. I don’t…
But the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Instead, she began to cry.
Anthony engulfed her in a bear hug as she cried. Was that what it was? That barrier she felt? It wasn’t one between them. It was one inside herself. All her life she had spared her feelings for Daphne’s. All her life she had pretended not to feel one way or another, but now she couldnt do it any longer.
She did have feelings for the Prince. And for a moment…for a moment she thought he might feel the same way.
But then…Daphne. It was always Daphne’s needs, Daphne’s feelings…
Anthony was the only one who ever thought of her first.
That’s why it had hurt, during that first ball. It was as if the only person in her corner had switched teams.
“I’m here.” Anthony said, and she knew that he was. He was always there, even when it seemed as though he wasn’t.
“I’m sorry..” Delilah finally said. “I was jealous. Because you were so focused on Daphne, I…I thought maybe my favorite brother had jumped ship.”
He chuckled.
“I would never. And if I did, I would absolutely be choosing Hyacinth.”
She laughed, and they stood side by side in the quiet. They let the silence hang between them comfortably.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t see.” Anthony sighed, his eyes full of sadness.”
Delilah shook her head. “Before tonight, we danced once. I felt stupid for even having feelings in the first place. But tonight…”
She remembered his face inches above hers, his hands on hers, the energy crackling between them.
“Tonight was different. And he chose her anyway.”
Anthony folded his arms and huffed. “What an imbecile.”
Delilah’s eyes widened to dinner plates.
“Anthony Bridgerton! Did you just insult a prince?!”
He nodded firmly. “When that prince can’t see that my favorite sister is standing right in front of him with stars in her eye, then yes. Yes I did.”
She nudged his arm with her elbow, and he nudged back.
“Do you want me to do the lion?” She asked, after a few minutes.
Anthony’s lips curved into a smile. “Yes, I actually do. Very much.”
Delilah put her hands up to look like paws and began stomping all around.
“I am the king of the jungle!” She cried. “And I command you take your favorite sister home so we can have iced cream!”
For emphasis she even growled.
Anthony laughed, and it made her happy. Her brother was so busy running the household, it seemed he barely had time to laugh anymore.
“Come along, Mr. Lion.”
They wound their way through the throng of people, but suddenly Anthony stopped.
“Go find mother.” He said sternly.
Delilah gave him a look of confusion. Weren’t they going to have iced cream?
“I’m sorry, Delilah, but I must go and handle something very important. Please do find mother. I promise we will have iced cream when I get back.”
She could see the look of fury masked underneath his calm facade, something only his family would notice. She nodded and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder before running off to find Violet.
“Delilah!” She said. “There you are. How has your night been?”
She honestly wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m not quite sure, honestly.”
Violet gave her hand a squeeze. “Is there anything you wish to talk about, dearest?”
Could she tell her mother what was going on and not feel as if she was somehow betraying everyone? Anthony wouldn’t tell anyone, he wasn’t a meddler. But her mother..if she knew about Delilah’s feelings for the prince, she’d surely want to tell Daphne and talk everything out. But she didn’t want that to happen because it would always be Daphne…Daphne’s marriage, Daphne’s match…
No, she couldn’t tell her mother. At least not right now.
“No, thank you.” Delilah said, offering a small smile. Violet searched her eyes, but she could sense that her daughter wasn’t quite ready to share.
“In your own time, then.”
And then she wrapped her up in her arms, and Delilah felt so safe. It didn’t matter what happened with the Prince or Daphne, because they were still her family. And she had the very best family anyone could ask for.
“Mama.” Came a voice from next to them.
It was Daphne, her eyes wide and her lips trembling.
“Are you alright?” Delilah asked, reaching for her sister.
Daphne nodded, though it was very stiff. “We must be going home.”
Violet gestured toward the dancing couples. “We just got here!”
Daphne looked at Delilah, and Delilah knew exactly what she was trying to say.
Something horrible has happened.
“Mama, Daphne is right. We must be going. I accidentally knocked over a statue in the garden, and they’re sure to pin it on me.”
Violet gave Delilah a stern look. Her entire life, Delilah had never lied. Stretched the truth, maybe, but never an outright lie. Not once.
So why was she lying right now?
“Very well, where is your brother?”
Daphne looked at her shoes. “He will take his own carriage home.”
Violet still looked very uneasy about the whole affair, but she still shepherded her daughters out the door and into the carriage, and they rode into the night.

Chapter Text

“Why did I just lie for you?”
It was the first thing out of Delilah’s mouth once she and Daphne were alone. It had been burning on her tongue for the entire carriage ride, but she had waited very patiently for private countenance before all but blurting it out moments after they’d closed the door behind them.
Daphne sat at the edge of her bed looking extremely wilted. Delilah would have been more attentive if she hadn’t just uttered her very first lie on Daphne’s behalf, and to her mother no less.
“I..have been compromised. My honor has been compromised.”
It was as if all the air had gone out of the room. She was compromised…she and the Prince…
“What did the Prince do to you?”
Daphne looked up sharply. “It wasn’t the Prince…it was Simon…”
Delilah remembered how to breathe.
But then her relief turned into anger.
“I thought you were after the Prince…why are you and Simon in a position where he can compromise you?”
Daphne fidgeted with her hands as she always did when she was nervous. This time Delilah did not still them.
“I never cared for the Prince. I..think I was only ever trying to make Simon jealous.”
She never cared for the Prince…
Delilah wanted to scream. She wanted to punch something, or break something or kick over her dresser.
“But now Anthony has challenged him to a duel for my honor! And Simon won’t just
marry me so they’re doing pistols at dawn.”
“WHAT?!” Delilah screamed.
“It is foolish.” Daphne said, blowing out a breath. “It is madness.”
Delilah sank down into Daphne’s vanity chair. “Do you know where this is taking place?”
Daphne shook her head.
Her brother was going to take part in a duel. Her brother might very well die.
“Well we’re going to have to stop them.”
Daphne snapped her head towards her sister. “No, Delilah.” She knelt before her sister. “This is my mess. I do not need you getting involved as well. If anything were to happen to you…”
She stopped, and looked into Delilah’s eyes, tears forming.
“Daphne..” Delilah cooed. She was always comforting Daphne.
“At least let me help you to know where you’re going. I am not exactly thrilled at the possibility of losing you either.”
Daphne laughed, a single little chuckle.
“What unerring devotion.” She said sarcastically.
Delilah had always loved her sister. She loved her with every breath, with every word, with every beat of her heart.
But she had not really learned to love herself.
And who was Daphne but the other half of her? One side of their shiny gold coin?
“I imagine we have some time before… everything. I need to talk to you.”
Daphne nodded and sat upon her bed, patting the space next to her in invitation.
Delilah somberly shuffled over, and placed herself gently next to her twin.
“Daff…I love you. Firstly, that’s the most
Important thing. And I will always love you.”
Daphne clutched their hands together.
“And I you. More than words can even express.”
She believed her, but it didn’t take away the coil in her belly. It didn’t make this any easier.
“I can’t take care of you anymore.”
Daphne paused. She gave Delilah a look of bewilderment.
Did she really not know? Did she not see?
“Daphne, I…I have always saved you. From lecherous suitors, from tonight’s ball, even from yourself. But I cannot….I cannot save you and take care of my own needs in the same breath. It is too much for one person to take.”
Daphne’s eyes widened, and filled with tears. She took a moment to think, and Delilah knew she was revisiting their every interaction through new eyes.
“I…I did not realize…”
Delilah simply waited.
“I am so sorry.” Daphne said, finally. “I am so sorry I made you feel as if you must take on my burdens as your own. That was unfair of me. And I…I do not think you have ever shared with me a burden. I have never shouldered anything for you. And I did not mean for you to feel as if you could not share these things, because you can. You are my sister. You are my twin. You are the sun and I am the moon. We are only in harmony if we are together.”
Delilah blinked. And then blinked again.
“What did you just say?”
Daphne thought for a moment.
“You are the sun and I am the moon. We are only in harmony if we are together.”
Delilah sat in complete shock.
“Delilah?” Her sister said.
Her brows furrowed.
“You mean the reverse, don’t you?”
Daphne shook her head. “No of course not. You are the sun, for you are so bright and loving and you give everyone your light no matter what their title or their station. And I am the moon. I am reserved, and I cannot always shine with everyone staring at me.”
Daphne is the sun.
Delilah is the moon.
Delilah is the sun.
Daphne is the moon.
But she supposed it was all about perspective. She never saw herself as the sun because she never saw her own good qualities. But Daphne hadn’t seen hers either. They saw the worst in themselves, but the best in each other. They were each other’s suns.
Delilah pulled Daphne roughly into a hug. Daphne squeaked in surprise but returned it with enthusiasm.
“I’m sorry for never sharing my burdens with you.” Delilah whispered.
“I’m sorry for sharing too much of mine.” Daphne’s hands rubbed soothing circles on her back.
They were only in harmony if they were together. How could she have ever thought differently?
They both shone in their own ways. They both came up short sometimes too. It wasn’t fair to expect constant perfection of her sister, and even more so to never allow herself to be the brightest one in the room.
But if Delilah never laid down her load at her sister’s feet, they would never be able to move forward.
“Daphne, I have something to tell you.”
Daphne pulled back, wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks.
“You can tell me anything.”
If you fall, I fall with you.
“I have formed feelings for the Prince.”
Daphne’s brows raised so high they disappeared behind her bangs.
“When did this happen?”
“The night you met him.”
A look of realization came across Daphne’s face. “That morning when you didn’t feel well. It was because I couldn’t stop talking about the Prince!”
Delilah nodded weakly.
“Oh Delilah! Oh, I’m so sorry. How thoughtless of me. I saw you two dance but I thought you would tell me if it was anything more than a courtesy. Oh, I’m such a fool.”
She gasped then, and her hand flew to her mouth.
“And then tonight! The way I used him in front of you. Oh Delilah you must know I had no idea!”
Delilah shushed her sister. “Of course I know. I do not blame you. His attention went to you, and those are his feelings. They have nothing to do with you.”
Daphne chewed her lip in a very unladylike manner, and Delilah laughed unexpectedly.
“What?” Daphne asked.
“Nothing, nothing…I just forget how much alike we are is all.”
Daphne stood then, her hands on her hips.
“I don’t think the Prince much liked me, you know.”
Delilah tried to stop the quickening of her heartbeat, but there was no use.
“What makes you say that?”
Daphne began to pace.
“Every time we spoke he was polite. But distant.” Her finger shot into the air as if she could pull her very thoughts from her head.
“And almost always with the Queen.”
She had gone back to chewing on her lip.
“And?” Delilah said impatiently. “That doesn’t mean he wasn’t interested. Just perhaps not so interested.”
Daphne waved her hand in dismissal.
“What did you talk about?” Daphne said at once.
“What do you mean?”
“While dancing!” Daphne said, exasperation evident in her voice.
Delilah thought back to those two very short encounters.
“The first time we talked about how clumsy I am. And honesty. And I asked him if he was a rake.”
Daphne paused, her eyes wide in horror.
“At least we know now…” Delilah said with an embarrassed giggle.
“And he asked you for another dance? Or did you?”
“He asked me.”
“And the second dance? What did you talk to him about then?”
Delilah was quite embarrassed to remember the events of their second conversation, but she had already lied once tonight and she did not care to do it again.
“I offered to help him find a wife.”
She didn’t need to look to know that her twin was shell shocked.
“And what did he say?”
“Well, Cressida will never happen, Mary is too dim and Helena is not pretty but not that she isn’t pretty just he doesn’t find her pretty.”
Thank goodness they were twins, because Daphne understood exactly what she was saying, and didn’t miss a beat before asking,
“And you?”
“Me?”
“Yes you!” Her hands flew skyward in agitation. “Did you not offer yourself up as a candidate? In order to win favor?”
Delilah rubbed a hand along the back of her neck.
“No, i…I was trying to talk to him about you.”
Daphne stared open mouthed and wondered, “Have you actually gone rotten in the head?”
Delilah sputtered. “I was trying to be the better woman and woo him for you! But he said you wouldn’t hold his attention.”
Her twins’ frown slowly became a wide smile. “That’s good then!”
“Is it?” Delilah said moodily.
“Delilah, you offered him four solid choices of wife on a silver platter, and he disparaged them all.”
She supposed now that she thought about it, he had not had a positive thing to say about any woman besides Daphne. But Daphne was her sister, and he wouldn’t speak ill of her to her own flesh and blood.
And he had even said nice things about Delilah. Notably…
“He said I had womanly curves.”
Daphne’s eyes bugged out of her head.
“He did!?” She sprang onto the bed and all but pummeled her.
“Oh Delilah that is a very good sign!”
“Yes, but he still went to you. When you came in he was going to say something but he went to greet you anyway.”
Daphne paused at that.
“That is a bit suspicious, however it is not entirely incriminating.”
Delilah wanted to believe her sister was right. But it was hard for her to see the reasons why a Prince would want her in the first place.
So she told Daphne as much.
“Why wouldn’t he?” Daphne said, incredulous. “You’re beautiful, you’re funny, and you’re a Bridgerton. What else is there?”
She said it so effortlessly, it almost made her believe it too.
“I just wish I could talk to him.”
“There will be another ball next week. You can talk to him then. In the meantime, I think it’s time we worry about the matter at hand.”
Anthony. And Simon. In a duel.
Delilah rose to her feet.
“Let me head downstairs alone. Anthony promised me we’d have some time just us when we got home.”
Daphne nodded and watched her sister go with a heavy heart.
Delilah made her way down the stairs and to her older brother’s office.
She peered inside the cracked door, and was surprised to find Colin.
“Colin, what are you doing here?”
He raised his whiskey glass up in answer.
“Where did Anthony go?”
Colin shook his head. “He made me promise not to tell you.”
Daphne appeared in the doorway.
“You either!” Colin cried.
Delilah gave her an incredulous look. Daphne shrugged.
“I told you this is my mess. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you doing something reckless.”
Then Daphne turned to Colin.
“You have to tell me where they are.”
He took a long swill of his drink. “I cannot.”
“Colin!” Daphne cried. “They’re going to kill each other!”
“They will do the gentlemanly thing and aim wide.” He said, as if that was that.
“And what if they don’t?” Delilah said. “What if they misfire or don’t aim wide enough and Benedict returns as the Viscount?”
Colin’s eyes softened into a look of despair.
“Colin, please.” Daphne pleaded. “I just want to talk to him. If they still decide to go through with it, then fine, but I just need a few moments.”
Colin and Daphne stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. The finally, he relented. “Fine. I’ll ready the horses.”
As Colin left, Daphne turned to Delilah.
“You must stay here. We cannot have every single sibling there for fear of our numbers dwindling significantly.”
Delilah let her tears run down her face.
“Daphne please be careful. And please save Anthony. Save them all.”
Daphne gave her sister a tight hug.
“I will do my very best.”

In the end, no one had a scratch on them.
All the Bridgerton siblings A through D (minus one half) came galloping home in the morning. Daphne had quickly thrown herself into bed, and she noted with a small smile the presence of Delilah on her chaise.
“Lila…. Wake up, Lila….”
Delilah arose with a start.
“Oh Daphne!” She cried. “Thank god. And everyone else?”
Daphne smiled. “Everyone else is perfectly safe.”
Delilah relaxed, finally, and began rolling her shoulders to relieve their tension.
“I better go see Anthony.”
Daphne waved her hand. “He’ll be asleep. You should get your rest too. I do appreciate your keeping vigil.”
Delilah smiled and went back to her own room.
She did not immediately try and find sleep. First, she began rummaging around in the trunk at the foot of her bed. When her hand touched metal, she tightened her hold and pulled a long, thin rectangle from the box.
Her fingers gently ran across the large black letters reading Governor Square.
She had learned from all of this one simple thing: that there could be no more denying of who she was. She could not bite back her feelings to save everyone else’s. She could not deny her wants - her needs- for the sake of anyone. She was not a proper lady, and she was not a baby factory. She craved so much more than what was offered to her.
She placed the sign back in her trunk and made her way into her bed. There, she fell into a long, dreamless sleep.

The lucky thing about being forced to marry due to a lady’s honor being compromised is that there is no grand ceremony.
There is only a church, and your family, and a priest.
Simon and Daphne were married on a Tuesday.
Delilah will remember that Tuesday forever, because that was the day she said goodbye to her better half.
“What am I going to do without you? How am I going to talk to the Prince?” They were standing outside Bridgerton house, arms clasped together tightly.
“You will be yourself.” Her sister said sagely, suddenly wise beyond her years. “And you will be honest. And you will be a Bridgerton.”
Delilah stared into Daphne’s eyes - her own eyes - and wished they had more time.
“We only just figured things out.” Delilah said, tears beginning to stream down her face.
Daphne’s cheeks mirrored her own, wet with crying.
“I know.” The heartbreak in her voice threatened to end Delilah’s very existence. She hadn’t thought about this part. She had not given one single thought to the idea that once Daphne was married, she would leave.
“You are my sun.” Delilah said, as they clutched each other right.
“You are my sun.” Daphne repeated, as if it was the only thing in the world that could ever make sense.
It is impossible to describe the feeling of watching ones other half depart. But at least Delilah was secure in the knowledge that she would be spending her days with someone who loved her.
Daphne left on Tuesday.
He arrived on Wednesday.
It was a normal afternoon in the Bridgerton household. Most of the children gathered in the drawing room, where Gregory and Hyacinth would enter occasionally in the middle of their bouts of tag.
Benedict sketched by the window, puffing half heartedly on his tobacco pipe. Colin ate sandwiches and read books about Greece, where he would be going on tour after the season.
Eloise read whatever book had her so enraptured at that moment, though she still took the time to lift her head and make sarcastic comments when her siblings said something ridiculous.
Delilah was usually in the kitchens, but today had decided to stay upstairs and play checkers with her mother.
It was a fine summer afternoon.
And then, it was made even finer by his arrival.
“A caller for Miss Delilah Bridgerton.”
Every single head snapped up at that.
Delilah had not made much headway with her suitors this season, as all of them had been quite underwhelming to her tastes. She worried her bottom lip as she quickly made sure her hair was still pinned and her dress was smooth.
Who on earth would be calling on her?
And then she saw him.
Prince Friedrich.
“Your highness.” Delilah said, falling into a deep curtsy.
“Miss Bridgerton.” His eyes scanned the room and he smiled wide.
“Along with the other Bridgertons!”
Violet immediately began shooing everyone out of the room. Benedict rolled his eyes as Colin snagged the entire sandwich plate to take with him. Eloise went on about not even being able to read in her own home.
The Prince waited patiently for the entire brood to file out, before it was just them and her mother.
“Quite a family.” He said to Violet, who thanked him with a blush on her cheeks.
Delilah simply stared.
She had been crushed when the Prince had left her to go gallavant with his sister. She hadn’t wanted to admit how much it had hurt her, but now that she was being truly honest with herself and her feelings, she didn’t mind saying it made her feel as if she might vomit.
“Your highness.” Delilah said again.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit.”
She hoped she sounded cold. Detached.
Unaffected.
“Miss Bridgerton..” the Prince began. “I came here to offer my sincerest apologies.”
Ah, so this is what it would be. I’m sorry for leading you on or I’m sorry my feelings were not as strong as I thought.
“I’m sorry I pretended to dote on your sister.”
Now that was truly unexpected.
Delilah continued to do nothing but stare.
“Will you sit?” He gestured to the couch, and she slowly made her way over. He sat at an appropriate distance, his hands resting on his thighs.
His thighs are the last thing I need to be thinking about, she admonished herself.
“Your highness I’m afraid I don’t understand.” And she truly didn’t. Maybe he was trying to keep his family name untarnished and save face, though she didn’t see what he had done for it to be tarnished in the first place.
Friedrich nodded, suddenly seeming very shy. She tried very hard not to think about how adorable it was.
“Miss Bridgerton, I must say that in all my years, I have never encountered anyone like you.”
Delilah blushed involuntarily.
“You are smart, you are funny, and you do not care much for propriety in a world ruled by it. And you do not seem to face scrutiny for it.”
She supposed her family name had something to do with that.
“And I was taken with you from the moment you fell into my arms.”
Delilah could not be hearing right. Had he really just said that?
But he continued.
“My aunt, however, was insistent that I try and wed the diamond of the season. She pushed me into it, and I followed because…well, she is family. And she is the Queen. There could have been serious repercussions if she was not pleased. So I listened to her, if only to make sure she did not try and make problems for my country or the way we run things there. That day your sister arrived at the ball, just before I went to her, I could see my aunt behind you. And she was giving me this look, telling me with her eyes that I must listen to her. So I went to your sister. But not because I wanted to court her, because my aunt wanted me to.”
Delilah remembered his eyes focusing behind her, and then that look. That face that said he wanted to be right there with her instead.
“But with your sister married to the Duke, my aunt has loosened the leash so to speak. And I came here as soon as she did so I can ask you something.”
Delilah’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t possibly mean…
A proposal?
“Oh no!” Friedrich cried, a blush creeping onto his face. “I mean that isn’t to say that I wouldn’t- I mean of course I would, I just, well it was only two dances-“
She liked this Friedrich, so flustered and achingly human.
“What I want to ask,” he said, finding his composure. “Is if I may court you?”
She heard her mother, who was pretending to be working on her needlepoint but was actually eavesdropping, let out a little “oh!” Of excitement.
Delilah’s mouth was suddenly uncomfortably dry. A Prince…wanted to court her? More importantly, this Prince, the one she’d been so enamored with, was actually just as enamored with her?
He was looking at her, waiting for an answer. She couldn’t help the smile that took over her face, couldn’t stop herself from getting lost in those blue eyes that had held her captive for two weeks.
The answer was easy.
“Yes.”
He grinned at her and raised his arms up in surprise.
“Yes?” He asked.
“Yes!” Delilah cried, and they laughed.
“Perfect.” He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it in the way she liked.
“Well then let us start right now…unless you have plans.”
“No plans!” Delilah said quickly.
“Are you sure you don’t want to continue trying to find me a wife?” He laughed. “That was quite the enjoyable game.”
She pretended not to hear her mother’s choking sounds from across the room.
“We don’t need to play anymore.” Delilah said, large grin on her face. “I’m confident I know exactly who you’re going to marry.”
The Prince’s eyes widened at her forwardness, and then it came. Her favorite sound.
His laughter.

Chapter Text

“How do you like the country?”
It was a simple question. Innocent. And yet, Delilah heard the sound of a snort come inelegantly from the other side of the room.
She smiled apologetically at the Prince before turning towards her brother, who was sitting on the chaise reading. Or at least, appearing to read. Most men of scholarly pursuits tended to hold the book right side up.
Anthony caught her eyes and rolled his eyes.
Delilah set her mouth in a grimace.
Anthony gave her an incredulous look.
Delilah gave a pointed one back.
“I would like to play too!” The Prince said happily. Delilah whipped her head back around to see him making a very exaggerated grumpy face. She laughed, and turned back to Anthony, who looked curiously at the Prince.
“Come brother, the Prince can see right through you. May we converse in peace?”
He waggled his book at her. “I’m paying no mind to either of you.” He huffed.
“Oh yes.” Delilah offered. “Why don’t you read to me your most recent passage?”
Anthony gave them both a smug little look before setting to read. And then his face grew pink in embarrassment once he saw that his book was upside down.
“You were saying?” Delilah asked, knowing she had won this tiny battle.
“Oh just answer his bloody question about the country.” Anthony said, facing pointedly away.
Friedrich showed no sign of being put out by their display. If anything, he seemed to be delighted.
“I have no siblings.” He said, giving her a wide smile. “This banter is so exciting!”
Delilah patted his hand, which was as appropriate a physical gesture as she could manage. She would have loved nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and never let go. Instead, she turned her body slightly towards him and said,
“To answer your question…I love the country. My siblings and I spend time at our country estate every year.”
“ I too love the country." His eyes became glassy as he thought of Prussia. "My castle is located near the woods, so I like to take walks in nature whenever I feel the need to get away.”
Delilah had always enjoyed the feel of the sun on her skin, or the air on her neck as it played with the tendrils of her hair. She wondered absently what it would feel like for Friedrich to run his fingers through her hair, but immediately tamped down the thought.
“That sounds lovely! Just the other day I was working in the gard-“
Delilah stopped abruptly. Anthony shut his book rather forcefully, and looked up at the pair of them, eyes wide.
Friedrich gave them both a bewildered look.
“Yes?” He asked. “You were working in the garden?”
It was not completely unusual for a lady to tend her garden if she so chose. But most members of the ton viewed it as servants’ work, and certainly a Princess would not be allowed anywhere near dirt or mulch or anything that could dirty her dress.
“Is that…appropriate?” Delilah asked, her hand scrubbing the back of her neck so hard she thought she might leave scratches.
Friedrich laughed. “When have you ever done anything that is appropriate?”
She could feel Anthony’s hard gaze on her, but she dare not look back.
“Well, before…I mean I didn’t think I was in the running before. To be your princess. But now that you are looking at me more seriously for marriage-“
Friedrich’s eyes softened, and he grabbed a lock of Delilah’s hair that sat against her temple and subtly stroked it. His fingers grazed her skin only for a moment, but she had to fight the urge to chase the contact.
“What makes you think I wasn’t always looking at you for marriage?”
What she wouldn’t give for them to be alone in that moment. Her cheeks flushed, and she had to tear her eyes away from his hot gaze.
“I’m sorry..” Anthony said, ending the moment. “But did you say she has done something inappropriate?”
Now she really understood how Daphne had felt. It must have been downright agitating when she wanted to spend time with Simon. It had been annoying with other suitors, yes, but it was that much more of a nuisance when she actually liked the man opposite her.
“Of course not.” The Prince said nervously, giving Delilah an apologetic look. “Just…perhaps our conversations strayed a bit far from what was…agreeable.”
She saw Anthony’s shoulders relax.
Then she remembered the night she and Daphne had their heart to heart. The same night Anthony had gone to duel with Simon. He had already had a sister ruined…he wasn’t trying to ruin her prospects, he was trying to make sure she was safe.
Anthony placed his book on the end table.
“She’s never been one for propriety.” He said fondly.
“Did she tell you about her plot to find me a wife?” Friedrich asked, attention turning towards the surly Bridgerton.
“Oh, I heard. She’s a bit of a dunce when it comes to her feelings, that much is true.”
Was she in a fantasy world?
“I thought this was supposed to be a call for me and Friedrich. Or did you want me to leave you two alone?”
The two men turned to face her, Friedrich laughing good-naturedly and Anthony huffing.
“Yes, yes!” Anthony cried. “I’m not stopping you. Hold a more interesting conversation and maybe he wouldn’t try and talk to me.”
Delilah scoffed and stood up. “Excuse me? Are you saying my conversation is dull?”
Anthony crossed his arms, mirroring her and standing as well. “The absolute dullest.”
“Miss Bridgerton…” Friedrich said. “It is not the most riveting conversation I’ve ever had, to be sure.”
Delilah turned to face him in horror, but saw the lazy smile and malicious glint in his eye that told her he was merely goading her.
“I can’t believe I am being ganged up on by a man who slept with a baby blanket until he was three and twenty-“
“Oi!” Anthony cried.
“And a man who is afraid of mice.”
Friedrich shook his head. “It was a very large mouse!” He sulked. “And I told you that in confidence.”
After a moment the trio looked around at each other and began laughing, and soon enough Delilah and Friedrich were back on track, talking and carrying on while Anthony pretended not to listen.
A man that could get along with her favorite (and, admittedly, most pig-headed) brother was a man she did not want to lose indeed.

Delilah stared at her reflection in the mirror. Anita stood behind her, pinning her hair up in soft curls and humming a tune to herself.
“Anita, when will you teach me how to do my hair?”
Anita shook her head and laughed.
“You mean to put me out of work! I can’t share all my secrets. I do actually enjoy being your lady’s maid. “
Delilah smiled at her in the reflection.
She assessed herself once again. She had the same chestnut hair that all the Bridgertons shared. A few strands fashionably fell over her forehead and cheeks, which were round and pink. She stared at her wide eyes and delicate nose, and she grinned.
“I am pretty, Anita.”
Her maid grasped her shoulders and bent down so their faces were level.
“That you are, Miss. the Prince won’t know what to do with himself.”
Friedrich had invited her for a stroll through the park today. She couldn’t help the way her hands fidgeted in anticipation as Anita did up the buttons on the back of her dress.
They’d been courting for two weeks now, and Delilah had not known happiness quite like the way she felt when she was with him.
She felt dizzy when he smiled, and joy when he laughed. And she was terrified.
She quite possibly found herself on her way to being in love. But was Friedrich feeling the same?
Her mother seemed to think so. Anita seemed to think so. Even Anthony had said the Prince appeared quite taken. Friedrich had just left following their most interesting call a few days before, and Anthony had leant against the wall of the vestibule, smug grin across his face.
"What?" Delilah asked.
"Nothing..." He said cryptically.
" Perhaps next time you might not mess with my courting. I like Friedrich a lot. I can't have you meddling with him."
He shrugged. " I don't think I deterred him in the slightest."
Delilah's eyes narrowed. " Truly?"
He nodded. "I think he honestly enjoyed himself. And he is clearly besotted with you."
Her shoulders relaxed. "Are you being honest? I cannot stand to be teased right now, Anthony-"
He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Truly. Cross my heart and hope to die a most painful death."
Despite Delilah's newfound confidence and desire to be forthright in her feelings, she couldn't help how nervous she was around him. She couldn't stop her palms from sweating, or her cheeks from heating. And he was a marvelous suitor, always complimenting her and making her feel so special. It didn't convince her of his feelings though.
Perhaps that was love? If anyone else had showed their intentions the way he had, she would know exactly how they felt. But because she truly, deeply wanted him...she couldn't help but feel unsure.
Even when he'd suggested he was always looking at her for marriage, she had a hard time believing it.
He wasn't just looking for a wife. He was looking for a princess.
Delilah may know now she is worthy of love, but no one in their right mind would say that she was prepared to be a royal.

A footman arrived in the drawing room where Delilah had been sitting with her mother.
“Prince Friedrich here for Miss Delilah Bridgerton.”
She met Anita in the hallway, and the maid gave Delilah a quick hug.
“You’re going to be marvelous.”
She would try. She would do her complete best.
Once outside, Delilah watched Friedrich get out of his carriage and tried not to think about how long his legs were or how his jacket stretched that much tighter over his chest. His eyes looked her up and down, and she felt deliciously hot at the scrutiny.
“Miss Bridgerton. You are a vision today.”
Delilah smiled and curtsied. “Your highness. Blue suits your coloring far too well.”
He cracked a grin.
“You think me pleasing to look at in blue?”
Delilah simply nodded, not trusting her words.
“Then I shall wear it every day.”
Her cheeks were burning. Was it hot? It was a very temperate day but she was hot hot hot.
Friedrich looked very satisfied by her response, but as a gentleman did not call attention to it.
She expected him to usher them into the carriage, but instead he turned to Anita.
“What may I call you?” He said politely.
“Oh!” She cried, taken aback at being addressed at all - let alone by a Prince. “I-I-I’m, Anita, your highness.” She curtsied and kept her eyes withdrawn.
Friedrich gave her a nod. “Miss Anita, you have a lovely smile. You should keep your head up so all can see. It’s very friendly. I can see why you are Miss Bridgerton’s maid with such a temperament.”
Anita flushed deeply at the compliment, but raised her head and kept it there. Delilah stared at Friedrich open-mouthed.
She’d never in her life seen a member of the ton - a member of royalty even - address a lady’s maid. All of her precious doubt fell away, and simmered into an all consuming need.
She knew exactly who Friedrich was going to marry. She’d make sure it was her.
Anita’s own words rung in her ears.
“Make sure he proposes. To you.”
“Anita is exceptional.” Delilah added, giving her a wide grin. “And you are very smart to notice that right away. Since she will be my Lady’s Maid when we marry.”
She could hear Anita stifle a giggle behind her.
She held Friedrich’s gaze, almost like a challenge.
He did not look away.
“Yes, I imagine she would be. When we marry.”
He’d emphasized the word so much there was no denying he had meant exactly what she did.
He wanted this.
Spurned by her new confidence, she let him help her into the carriage -
And subsequently missed the first step and fell to her knees.
“Miss Bridgerton!” He cried, going for her arm.
She waved him off.
“The only thing wounded is my pride. Trust me to act like a saucy minx and then fall flat on my face.”
He smiled warmly.
“You are a saucy minx whether you are standing or on your bottom, I assure you.”
She righted her skirt and stepped into the carriage again, this time much more successfully. Once Anita was seated beside her and Friedrich was sat on the opposite bench he rapped the roof and they were off.
Friedrich gave Delilah a shy smile. “I hope you don’t mind us going out today. I thought it might be good for us to talk…openly.”
He eyed Anita carefully.
“Not that we would talk of any thing untoward-“
“Please.” Delilah said, placing her palm flat in the air. “Anita is my closest confidante. We keep each other’s secrets. Anything you say to me you can say to her.”
He seemed to relax at that. He eyed Anita again, as if seeing her in a new light.
“Miss Anita, you must know all about my companions’…sordid affairs.”
Anita looked a little alarmed, still unused to being formally addressed. “Yes, your highness.” She said quickly.
“Miss Anita, if you can speak freely in front of Miss Bridgerton, then rest assured you may speak freely in front of me.”
Delilah couldn’t stop grinning if she tried.
Anita still looked unsure, but with a supportive nod from Delilah, she said, “Miss Bridgerton is an absolute rascal.”
Friedrich nodded, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
“Yes, that does sound like her.”
Delilah was dreaming. She had to be. Friedrich was so…open with her. And he was willing to let Anita speak freely, which was just not done.
“I had no idea you were so progressive, your highness. Most men of breeding wouldn’t dare let a maid speak freely.”
Friedrich considered that.
“In Prussia, we let our servants have days off. We hire extra to rotate them between days. The housekeeper is in charge of their schedule and payroll instead of the crown. We like to work, and in turn we like to give work to those who need it.”
Delilah couldn’t hide her shock if she tried
“Really? And how well do you pay them?”
Money was not a polite topic of conversation, but Friedrich did not balk at her forwardness. He was quite used to it by now.
“As well as any day laborer. My father was insistent upon it.”
Day laborers made fair wages, wages that far exceeded that of the wages given to most servants in the ton.
Delilah gave Anita a sideways look. Anita gave her one right back.
It reminded her of Daphne, and for a
Moment she missed her sister.
Anita gave her a look that said , you should tell him.
Delilah gave her a look that said I’m going to throttle you.
“Your highness..” Delilah began delicately. “I know I mentioned my work in the gardens before. But…we’ll, it’s sort of a secret. And only one other person knows it.”
The Prince grew very serious, and chanced to grab her hand in his own.
“I will trust it with my life, I assure you.”
There was a difference between flirting with improper topics of conversation and doing something wholly improper in one’s spare time. But if she wanted to be with him, she had to be able to tell him.
“I regularly spend my time in the servants quarters. They taught me how to cook and clean and even wash clothing. I like to do things for myself. I know it is not proper, but you have to know…I like to work. I like to see the results of my labor. And if I were to be your princess, I would like to continue doing those things.”
She didn’t look at him for fear he would be angry. She waited, for what felt like an eternity.
“Oh Miss Bridgerton..” he said finally. “Where have you been all my life?”
His hand on hers tightened a fraction, but it was as if the earth had shaken in that small squeeze.
His eyes looked so full of something. She couldn’t look away, even if Anita had pulled her kicking and screaming.
“You two are quite charming, aren’t you?” Anita said, apparently now fully comfortable in the presence of the Prince.
“My family, as I said, value hard work. Many past members of the royal family had jobs. Like my great uncle and his clocks.” She could tell he had a great love for his uncle just in the way his eyes went glassy at his memory.
“Is your great uncle still alive?”
“No…” Friedrich said sadly. Oh what she wouldn’t give to take that sadness away. “He died when I was seventeen. But he taught me everything I know.”
She wanted to ask more, but they had arrived at the park. Friedrich stepped out first and helped Anita, then with a grip on Delilah’s hand and waist he helped her out.
“We don’t want you to fall again.” He said, but she didn’t care. He was touching her.
Anita situated herself a respectable distance away from them as they strolled. She could see the Featheringtons out and about, Penelope looking sad as usual. She wanted to talk to the Prince, but she would have all afternoon.
“May we say hello to the Featheringtons?” Delilah asked. Colin had recently become engaged to Marina, though she noted her absence in the party ahead.
“Of course.” He said kindly.
“Mrs. Featherington!” Delilah said politely. “How lovely to see you.”
Portia nodded at her but when she saw the Prince immediately fell into a curtsy. Her daughters did the same.
“Your highness.” They all said.
“What a joy to see you Mrs. Bridgerton.” It did not sound as if she meant it.
“Your highness…I’m so glad you decided to stay in London.”
“Well, there was no need to leave with the season still going. I had some plans, you see.”
Portia eyed Delilah on his arm and Anita standing at a short distance behind them.
“Have you met my daughters?” She said lecherously. It seemed that even though he was obviously there with Delilah she wouldn’t pass up a chance to offer her daughters on a silver platter.
“This is Prudence and this is Phillipa.” She said, and they smiled. Delilah waited for Miss Featherington to introduce Penelope, but she didn’t say a word. So Delilah did it for her.
“And this!” Delilah said happily. “Is Miss Penelope Fearherington.”
Penelope looked caught off guard as her name was mentioned. She also smiled and bowed her head.
“She is my sister Eloise’s closest friend. Very smart too.” Penelope gave Delilah a gracious smile.
“Oh, is that so?” Friedrich said. “I met Miss Bridgerton on one of my calls to Bridgerton house. She is a fine lady indeed.”
“Yes, yes.” Portia said impatiently. “They are good friends. Did you know Prudence can sing, your highness? It is quite captivating.”
Penelope and Delilah shared an incredulous look. The only person being held captive by Prudence’s singing was her family, and only in the sense that once she started, they could not escape it.
“And Phillipa!” She cried. “Excellent on the pianoforte.”
Friedrich nodded. “I’m sure your daughters are very talented indeed to be friends of the Bridgertons.”
Portia tried not to scowl.
“Miss Penelope.” He said, ignoring the way Prudence and Phillipa preened before him.
“Are you a lover of books like Miss Eloise?”
Penelope nodded. “Oh yes, your highness. I know it is a little unusual, but literature brings me great joy.”
“As it should.” He said. “Literature is a noble pastime indeed. Much more interesting than singing or playing pianoforte.”
Delilah reveled in the way Portia’s lips twisted together as if she was tasting something foul. “Well, Prudence and Phillipa read too of course. Don’t you girls?”
They have their mother an odd look.
Phillipa place a finger to her chin. “Mother, I’ve never read before-“
“Modest!” She said hastily, giving Phillipa a wicked glare.
“Miss Penelope.” Friedrich ignored the matriarch pointedly. “What is your favorite type of story?”
She stuttered, still marveling that he was talking to her.
“Oh, um, romance is a favorite of mine. But I am inclined to read about travel.”
He gave Delilah a smile that melted her heart.
“Well, should Miss Bridgerton and I end up suiting, we will have to have you to my estate in Prussia.”
She beamed. And so did Delilah.
“I’m sure my family would be most gracious at the offer.”
Portia seemed to lighten up a bit at the prospect of going to the Prince’s estate. But before she could say anything he delivered the final blow.
“Oh, well if your sisters are not fans of travel as you are we will not bother them. I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind sending you alone with a maid or two as appropriate chaperone? Or perhaps with the Bridgertons should they decide to visit?”
Portia looked positively green.
“Of course, your highness.” How could she say no?
“Splendid! Well it was lovely to make your acquaintances. But Miss Bridgerton and I should really get on with our walk.”
Delilah gave Penelope a secret wink that made her laugh. And then they were moving past the Featheringtons and onward through the park.
“How did you know?” Delilah asked.
“Know what?” Friedrich replied, pretending as if he had no idea.
“How did you know I favored Penelope?”
He chuckled.
“The Featheringtons have been most voracious to get my attention, but she was always standing off to the side. When you said she was a friend, I just…knew.”
Her heart fluttered involuntarily.
“So tell me about your tinkering? What sorts of things do you like to work on?”
“Clocks, of course.” He steered her towards the water’s edge so they could enjoy the scenery there. “But also phonographs and even carriages.”
She looked across the water, noting all the couples in their rowboats. The trees cast shadows across the water, creating pockets of shade where some couples chose to pause and talk.
“And you?” He asked. “What do you like to fill your days with if not needlepoint?”
She gave him a wry smile.
“I’ll have you know I make excellent needlepoints. When I’m not stabbing my fingers with the needle of course. “
He gestured towards the boats, silently asking if she wanted to go. She nodded and they clamored onto a large boat with a shade over top. Anita hurried to the dock to join them, and when they were settled, Friedrich began to row.
“I like to cook.” She said, casting her eyes across the lake. “And garden. But it really doesn’t matter what I do. I simply like to work.”
Anita hungrily took in the scenery. It hadn’t occurred to Delilah she may have never really gotten a chance to see the park in all its glory before.
“What about hard labor?” Friedrich asked, his arms pumping them slowly toward the one unoccupied shady spot.
“Well,” Delilah said, considering. She’d never done hard labor before, had always had brothers who were expected to take on any physical things like moving heavy furniture or helping bring in suitcases when the servants were already loaded up. With nine Bridgerton siblings and the Viscountess, luggage was indeed its own beast.
“I’ve never done it. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I’ve always enjoyed helping Anita bring the washing up and down.”
Anita smiled affectionately. “Oh you should have seen her, your highness. Ten years old with a basket the size of her.”
Oh, Anita was truly comfortable now.
Friedrich placed the oars down to his sides. The boat went still, and they bobbed gently on the water’s surface.
“The crown have always helped in the nearby town when there is a barn raising or repairs after a bad storm. We are a hands on sort of people.”
“That sounds wonderful!” Delilah cried, heedless of her excitement. “I love the idea of people of all stations coming together. We need common workers and we need a king to oversee them. That doesn’t make anyone more important than the next.”
Friedrich clapped his hands in excitement. “Exactly! My family, we do not like this idea that servants are quiet and commoners are subservient. We are all people who wish to live in a community.”
The shade they now sat in felt good against Delilah’s skin. The day had turned hot as they had walked, and now she found herself sighing in contentment as she sit back and enjoy the breeze.
“You would love Prussia, I think.” Friedrich said.
Delilah met the Prince’s eyes. He smiled, his gaze unwavering.
She had thought herself completely gone after that first night, her thoughts turning to him unbidden as she try desperately to forget.
But no, she hadn’t fallen for him then.
It was now, sitting on the water, staring at those beautiful blue eyes, learning of his country and of his home as he gave her one of the most dazzling smiles she’d ever seen, this was it.
She thought it would be different. Perhaps they’d be at a ball dancing, and he’d kiss her hand and she’d swoon as they readied themselves for a dance. Or perhaps when he proposed, her family by her side, their happiness and love surrounding her in spades. But it was this quiet moment where it was almost as if it were just the two of them. This quiet, perfect moment where they were just a boy and a girl in the park. This was it for her.
She was completely in love.
She thought about Daphne again. Had she felt this? Had she had this moment of complete normalcy and just known in her heart that she was besotted?
She didn’t know if the Prince would propose, though she hoped. Oh how she hoped.
But if he did, she would not -could not- leave without visiting her sister. She had to see her, to know if she had felt this.
Friedrich looked away and she could see a blush on his cheeks. Had he been affected the same way she had? Oh she wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to ruin this perfect bubble they’d created over the past few weeks. She wanted this to last for as long as he would want it to.
“Oi!” Cried Anita.
A bird had landed in their boat, and was flapping its wings wildly at her maid. Delilah sprung into action, stepping to the back row where she was seated and shooing the bird with her dress.
“Go on!” She cried. Friedrich had stood too and instantly headed to the back row with her, but that was a bad decision. There was too much weight on one end of the boat.
“Mercy!” Cried Anita.
And then they were submerged.
The water of the lake was ice cold, and sent a shock into Delilah’s lungs. She could not tell what was up and what was down.
She had spent many summers with her siblings swimming in the lake at Aubrey Hall, so her instincts kicked in and she began kicking wildly underneath her. She could see the sunlight growing brighter and brighter until her head came up and she was sucking in precious air.
A hand curled around her waist all of a sudden, and she was being dragged backwards, away from the dock and towards the grass near their shady spot.
Anita was already there, shivering something fierce.
The Prince was the one dragging her, and soon they were flopping onto the ground.
“Delilah!” He cried, his face hovering over hers. “Delilah are you alright?” His hands were touching her face, her arms, anything he could reach to make sure she was completely fine. His eyes were filled with concern, and she stilled his movements with a hand on his forearm.
“I’m ok. I swear to you, I’m ok!”
He still looked worried, but nodded nonetheless.
“I was closer to the shore!” Anita cried, kneeling next to her. “I got here much quicker. I thought for a moment…Oh, are you alright Miss Delilah?”
And then she started laughing.
It bubbled out of her so suddenly she could do very little to stop it. A pigeon, much like the one that had caused the whole commotion, fluttered overhead and sent her into a violent fit of giggles. Friedrich looked at first very confused but then slowly he began laughing just as hard as she had. Anita was already wildly cackling, and saying, “A pigeon! Oh, oh! We fell in the lake!”
Delilah fell onto her back, resounding in a loud plop.
Anita fell beside her, tears in her eyes. Friedrich was laughing but he kept looking over at Delilah, as if he wanted to get closer but knew it was improper.
“The boat.” Delila said. “What became of the boat?”
Friedrich placed his hands on his knees and blew out a breath. “She’s taken her final voyage I’m afraid.”
Delilah sat up on her elbows and saw their boat sideways, slowly submerging itself below the water. All the other people who were enjoying the lake had either fled to the shore or had rowed quite far away from the upturned boat. The dock master had his hands in his hair as he stared, shocked that his boat was now lost to the water.
“How are we going to get back?” Anita asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Friedrich, still hunched over, stood up straight to asses the situation.
“Walk.”
So they got up - Delilah and Anita ringing out their skirts and Friedrich taking off his jacket. He wrung it out tightly in the grass before slinging it over his shoulder.
Delilah had never seen him in a plain shirt, and she tried to ignore the patches of flesh that were becoming visible through the soaked fabric.
“Is this the most incredible accident you’ve ever had?” The Prince asked, momentarily avoiding propriety and nudging Delilah’s shoulder with his own.
She had to think about it.
“I would say it’s the most public, for sure.”
He turned his head. “So what is the most incredible then?”
The willow had certainly been the most painful, but in the grand scheme of things it was not quite incredible. Most people broke a bone in their life, especially as children.
She remembered the way her father had held her after she broke her arm. He had shushed her cries and carried her swiftly from the willow to the house, laying her down on a chaise in the drawing room.
“Papa!” She’d cried. “It hurts!”
“I know…” he stroked her hair. “I’ve already called for the doctor my sweet. It will be ok.”
Edmund had stayed with her the entire time, cooing at her. Violet had been in and out, making sure the other children stayed away.
Once her arm was wrapped and in a splint, Edmund had called her a brave little soldier and fetched for chocolate biscuits - her favorite.
A fresh wave of grief came over her. She hadn’t expected to think about her father.
“Is everything ok?”
He’d stepped in front of her. They’d walked down the far side of the lake towards the bustling street. They were standing at a corner, waiting to cross back to the main entrance of the park.
Had she been stewing that long?
“I’m so sorry, I was in my own head.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I was thinking of my father. He was a good man. And he always took care of me when I got hurt. And I was just thinking about the way he might have laughed had he seen me upturn an entire boat.”
His hand rose as if he was going to stroke her cheek. She wanted him to. Goodness, she wanted him to touch her anywhere he wanted.
His eyes were blazing, but he withdrew. Then he began looking around wildly, turning this way and that.
“Your highness?” Delilah asked.
He must have found what he was looking for because he gave her a grin.
“Come now.” He grabbed her hand and began pulling her across the street. He was walking so fast it was hard to keep up, but she did her best.
“Your highness!” She said excitedly. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He said simply.
They came upon a bookshop, and nestled next to it was a long stone alleyway. He pulled her into the alleyway roughly, and Anita was hot on their tails.
The alleyway branched out into the back of the bookshop, where there was a small garden. There were no windows on the shop, just a door and a lovely little patch of marigolds.
“Anita, will you keep an eye out?” Friedrich said, gesturing to the alley.
Anita nodded and ran back to the alley’s entrance.
Delilah stared at their surroundings dumbly before turning back to face the man who’d dragged her there.
“I’m so confused, Your Highness, is everything-“
And then he was kissing her. His hands went straight for her waist, his fingers digging deliciously into her sides.
Her hands came up awkwardly between them, but she quickly slid them up and into his hair.
She’d opened her mouth almost immediately. She didn’t know how she knew to do it, but she couldn’t deny him anything anyway. She was his.
“Delilah..” he sighed, and it sounded like a parched man finding his first sip of water.
Their lips met again, his hands now finding their way to her bosom. She moaned and trailed her fingers down his neck, scratching lightly at the top of his spine.
“I want you.”
She paused their kiss to look Friedrich in his eyes. They were dark and heady, and his gaze made her shiver.
“I have to know.” She said, trying to ignore the way their bodies met, chest to chest and hip to hip.
“I have to know if you feel something for me.”
Friedrich dipped his head to hers, pressing his nose against her own and nuzzling her.
“I thought you could see….” He whispered sadly. “I thought you knew..”
“Knew what?”
“How utterly obsessed with you I am.”
Her breath was stuck in her throat at his admission.
“My days are spent wondering about you…” he slid a hand down the column of her spine.
“Do you think of me?” He squeezed her hip.
“Do you want me like I want you?” He slid a hand to her bottom.
“Do you feel the same fire in your veins that I feel when you’re near?”
He squeezed her gently, making her moan again.
“Yes…” she sighed, reveling in his touch. “I want you so much sometimes it hurts.”
He kissed her again, but this time it was not fast and rough but slow and languid. He kissed her with a simmering passion that boiled over to a burning heat.
“I pulled you into this alleyway because I could not bear to go any longer without touching you.”
She wanted to remember this moment for the rest of her days. She wanted to know the feeling of his body against hers every time she shut her eyes.
There was a commotion just inside the bookshop and they sprang apart. The door handle began to turn, and Friedrich pulled her back into the alley just before it could open.
Anita didn’t say a word once they exited back onto the street, but she had a knowing smile on her face.
They made their way back to the park and hopped into Friedrich’s carriage. Delilah took stock of their appearance.
Anita’s dress was still wet, though it had dried some during their detour. Her hair was a wild mane of red that looked nothing like the practical chignon it had once been.
Friedrich’s shirt was still wet in some places. His jacket was gone - she wasn’t sure where it had ended up between the riverbank and the alley. His hair was a mess, and several locks hung limply across his forehead.
Her own dress, a lovely sage green silk, was ruined. Madame Delacroix would have no hope of repairing it once the fabric began to pucker - and the seams had already begun to part.
She was sure her hair was also a tangled mess of curls. She felt bad that Anita had put so much care into it only for it to be destroyed in a matter of moments.
They ambled back towards Bridgerton house, and Delilah found herself happy to be able to change. While the excitement of certain…activities with the Prince had put her soiled outfit out of her mind, she now felt the discomfort of wet undergarments and longed for a hot bath.
“May I dance with you this weekend?” Friedrich asked, disrupting her thoughts.
“You needn’t ask.” She said, and they grinned.
Violet was beside herself when they returned to Bridgerton house in such a state.
“The fault was mine.” Friedrich had told her before Delilah could say a word. “I apologize for bringing your daughter home in such a manner.”
Violet grabbed Delilah’s face in her hands and began to check her over.
“You’re kind to say so, your highness, but i know the work of my daughter when I see it.”
Once she’d surmised that Delilah was not grievously injured she pulled her gently towards the door.
“Let’s get you inside.”
Delilah turned to the Prince. “Thank you for a wonderful afternoon.”
He bowed to her.
“That thanks should be mine. You were a most diverting companion.”
She wished they’d been able to say their goodbyes in private where they could speak freely, but she was already halfway up the steps and Anita’s nose was turning red from cold.
“Until Saturday night.” He told her, and then he was slipping away into the carriage and soon was gone.

Chapter Text

“Daphne’s holding a ball.”
Delilah had just entered the drawing room. Most of her siblings were already there, though Colin was notably absent.
The day after her stint at the park, Whistledown had written a very interesting column indeed.

Hello again Dear Readers,

It seems that within the ton, a lack of propriety has always been present. Yes, I fear that some of our members have been very busy indeed trying to hide some of their more sordid affairs.
But I know all - and if you think you can hide your secrets from me, you are sorely mistaken.
It seems that Marina Thompson is not just a pretty face at dinner parties. She is also a pretty face that is dining for two. Marina Thompson is with child, and it appears she has been so since she arrived in London. Let’s hope the Featheringtons are able to face such a salacious scandal with poise and grace - though based on previous dealings, it seems more likely they’ll face it with a lack of decorum and a sour countenance.
The Prince of Prussia also faced a rather embarrassing public spectacle in the form of Miss Delilah Bridgerton. Well known to be a bit loose in the foot, the two were enjoying a lovely day on the lake when their boat upturned and soaked the pair (accompanied by her maid) to the bone.
A princess should be kind and gentle and loving - and almost certainly graceful. But Prince Friedrich seemed quite happy with the way their afternoon turned out if their wide smiles as they filed back into the carriage were any indication.

Colin had been so distraught at Marina’s deception, he’d spent the past few days sulking in his bedroom.
Delilah hadn’t bothered to feel embarrassed by her public kerfuffle. She knew that the Prince liked her and maybe quite possibly loved her and she was all but skipping from room to room.
Tonight had to be the night. He was going to propose.
She had spent the past few nights remembering the way his hands felt against her back, her breasts, her hair…It had been hard to fall asleep with how flustered she’d been getting.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she sat beside Benedict who was sketching absently.
“Daphne‘s throwing a ball? At Clyvedon?” She asked. She peeked her head over the side of Benedict’s sketchbook and noted that his perspective was quite good.
He immediately yanked the book away from her prying eyes. “Do I hover over you when you are making needlepoint?” He asked moodily.
“No one goes anywhere near me when I make needlepoint for fear of my handling the needle.”
He tilted his head as if to say fair point.
“Yes, it will be in a few weeks at the end of the season. And we are all invited of course.” She turned back to her mother, having momentarily forgotten the ball.
She had been rearing for a way to see her twin, and this was perfect. Daphne had wanted to come back to assist with Colin’s scandal, but had urgent business with the Duke that needed tending. That was what she’d said in the letter she sent to the family as a whole.
Ina private letter to Delilah, Daphne had explained that she and the Duke were having marital issues. She hadn’t gone into much detail, but it sounded quite serious.
“Well I can’t wait to see her!” Delilah declared happily.
Eloise grunted in what Delilah assumed to be agreement. It was hard to tell with Eloise.
“Can we go?” Hyacinth asked from the piano, where she’d been plucking away. Gregory was seated next to her and pinching her fingers when she got a note wrong.
“You know that you can’t, but I’m sure Daphne would be delighted for you to sit in the drawing room with her a few hours beforehand.”
Later, in the kitchens, Delilah was shucking corn with the servants. Anita was dicing onions with a heavy hand, her face stiff in anger. Her sailor had found her on her day off and told her that he was shoving off again, but that he’d wanted to find her so he could give her something. She thought it had been a token of his affection, like a handkerchief or a piece of jewelry.
“He paid me!” She cried, slamming her knife into the woodblock. Fiona had been so startled she’d almost dropped the pot of gravy she’d just finished heating.
“He thought I was a prostitute and he paid me for my services.”
“Oh Anita.” Delilah said, stepping away from the corn. “I’m so sorry.” She laid a hand on her shoulder. Anita began sniffling, and before long she was full out crying.
Shelley shook her head and muttered something about “bleeding” and “monthlies”.
“Oh Anita, it’s all right.” Fiona gave her a little smile. “Think about it this way. You had a good night. Your pockets are a little fuller. And now you can focus on finding someone you actually deserve to be with.”
Shelley looked up from the pork she was taking out of the oven. “Sailors are horrible. My aunt married one and all he ever gave her was a nasty itch on her fanny and a child who doesn’t know a donkey from a zebra.”
Delilah pointedly ignored the first part of that tidbit - it conjured a mental image she did not particularly care for.
“Don’t worry.” She reassured her. “You will find someone who adores you, I know it.”
She didn’t look fully convinced, but nodded just the same.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway. If the Prince proposes we’ll be off to Prussia in a few weeks anyhow.”
Fiona began to place cuts of meat on plates, but gave a little whistle. “Ah, yes, tell us again how perfect your Prince is?”
Delilah blushed. “Deliciously so.”
“You’ll have to marry if that little alleyway rendezvous gets out, won’t you?” Anita offered.
Even Shelley perked up at that. Fiona guffawed loudly.
“Rendezvous?!” She raced aaay from the plates to stand directly in front of Delilah, arms crossed in anticipation. “Well you must tell us everything.”
Even Anita didn’t know the details, just that they’d spent several minutes completely alone and out of sight.
So she told them all about Friedrich’s hands and mouth, and by the end the ladies were fanning themselves, though not because of the heat from the oven.

Delilah’s hands worked nervously in the fabric of her lilac gown. It was made mostly of silk, though it had a gorgeous golden overlay and trim that made it sparkle like a jewel. Her hair was adorned with a small gold tiara and several purple roses. Her mother had told her what to wear. “Dress the way you should desire to be.”
A princess, she’d meant. Dress like a princess and you just might become one.
She was worrying her bottom lip again. She’d looked for Friedrich upon entering, but hadn’t seen him yet. She stood at the edge of the dance floor, eyes flitting from corner to corner.
Where was he?
Two gentleman had already approached her for a dance but she’d feigned sickness for both. She wanted to give Friedrich all the time he needed in case he might have a question to ask her.
But he couldn’t ask her anything until he actually showed up.
There was a fanfare over by the main doors of the ballroom, and through them swept her majesty the Queen. She looked very regal in a light pink gown and silver braided wig. Her entourage followed loyally behind her as she made her way to the throng of chairs in the corner where she would set up camp.
On the edge of the group, she finally spotted him.
He was wearing blue again, though this coat was far more elaborate than the others he’d worn in the past. There were gold velvet tassels at the shoulder and beaded embroidery on the lapel. His breeches were crisp and tan, and his hair was coiffed perfectly atop his head, without a strand out of place.
He was perfection.
He greeted several people as he made his way through the room, but his eyes wandered.
When they settled on Delilah, she gave him a little wave.
He immediately started towards her, dispensing with the greetings.
“Miss Bridgerton.” He said, a hint of a smile on his face. “How lovely to see you.”
“Your highness.” She curtsied. “Lovely, indeed.”
“I hope I haven’t missed my opportunity to have a place on your dance card.”
She brought it up to eye level with a flourish. “I thought I’d let you have first pick.”
He gave her a searing look, and maintained eye contact as he delicately grabbed her card and the attached pencil. He only looked away to write his name, and then looked right back at her when he was done.
“ I took the liberty of making sure I had ample time with you.”
She glanced at the card and saw that he’d put an x through the other spots, leaving only his name on the roster.
“If you insist. Though I’d so been hoping to nab the interest of Lord Rutledge.”
Rutledge was a portly man who smelled and treated most women (and most men for that matter) horridly.
Friedrich gestured to the gentleman. “I can speak to him if you’d like. Suggest the two of you make plans for a September wedding.”
She wanted to hit him. She also wanted to kiss him senseless.
“You have become quite the jest while in my company, your highness.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Who’s to say you haven’t become boring whilst in mine?”
He’d meant it as a joke. But there was not a single part of her that wanted him to think she was anything but mad for him.
“Time spent with you is the opposite of boring. It’s utterly magical.”
Magical. There was that word again. It was so easy to forget how wonderful ones life was when something so much fuller and better came along. She had been so very happy back when she had been introduced into society. And yet since then she’d gone through the whole gamut of her emotions. She’d learned and grown.
Changed. She was changed beyond recognition.
She’d never been confident until she met Friedrich. She’d never been - lord above - seductive.
And she wanted things. She let herself want things. How on earth did that happen?
“Delilah, you must know…” he grabbed her hands fiercely. “When I am with you I do not know where time ends and begins. I do not know where I end and you begin.”
She’d never heard anything sweeter.
The music flared. It was time to dance.
He was an expert at matching her now. He anticipated her turns, even when she tried to throw him off. He knew her, as if they were one.
The dance ended. He looked at her so powerfully she felt off kilter. Was this it? Was he going to ask her, right here and now?
“Delilah-“
“Miss Bridgerton.”
Cressida bloody Cowper.
Delilah gave her a taut smile. “Miss Cowper. I’m afraid we are in the middle of something.”
She was standing there with a jam biscuit looking far too self important.
“I’m so sorry. Your highness.” She curtsied. “I just wanted to say you are very adept at dancing for someone so…off balance.”
She was going to wring her neck right here in front of everyone.
Friedrich stepped so he was partially between Delilah and Cressida.
“She is a far better dancer than anyone else I’ve spent time with here in London.”
Get her. Delilah thought wickedly.
“Well..” Cressida said, extending the l to emphasize how insincere she was being. “I believe I misspoke. My apologies, of course.”
She nodded and began to leave when she leveled her eyes with Deilah’s and slowly tilted her plate until her jam biscuit fell onto the floor with a plop.
“Oh my!” She said, as if she hadn’t done it on purpose. “What a clutz I am.”
Delilah gave her a withering look. “I don’t know what exactly you’re doing here Cressida, but we want no part of it.”
She had the gall to try and look affronted.
“Oh I’m not doing anything!” She crossed past Delilah towards the direction of the refreshments. “I simply need a new tart.”
Delilah held her gaze for a good ten seconds before finally turning back to Friedrich. He was watching Cressida, but when he decided she wasn’t a threat he turned to face Delilah.
And then Delilah was flying.
A solid thing had bumped her hip, and it sent her off balance. Friedrich reached for her but it was too late. She put a foot down onto the floor to try and stop herself from flying.
And stepped right on the jam tart.
She slid, her arms going up wildly, and then she was thrown to the side. She braced herself for the cold marble floor, but instead found herself lying on something rather soft.
And moving.
“What is the meaning of this!”
Delilah’s hands had rested on top of something satiny and fleshy. Legs, she realized, as she finally took stock of her surroundings.
Her hands were touching a pink satin dress, and her head was resting on a bosom.
Her eyes widened.
She raised her head and found herself looking into the horrified face of a woman.
The Queen of bloody England.
She pushed Delilah hard to get her off, and her attendant was already clutching the back of her lilac gown and pulling her upright.
“Your majesty!” Delilah cried. “I cannot apologize enough!”
The Queen stood, her eyes ablaze with indignation. Delilah was on her feet now but she felt distinctly as if she were swaying.
“You manhandled me!”
The Queen’s voice shook throughout the entire room, and a sense of utter dread went up her spine. There was no music or chatter behind her. The room was completely silent.
Which meant they were all looking right at her.
She didn’t dare turn around and face the prying eyes of the ton. She didn’t dare look at Friedrich either.
“It was an accident, truly! I would never want to go near you. Well, not that I wouldn’t go near you, just that I hadn’t…I didn’t… I mean…“
Tears spring from her eyes until there were two tiny waterfalls gushing down her cheeks. She was crying in earnest. And she was so ashamed.
“You were presented to me so well I gave you my favor.” The Queen’s eyes were narrow slits, looking upon Delilah as if she were nothing but garbage beneath her feet.
“And you disgrace me in such a way. It is a grave misstep indeed.”
Delilah held up her soiled shoe pathetically. “It was a tart. I slipped, your Majesty-“
“And now you grovel to me? Where is your spine, Miss Bridgerton?”
It was all so wrong. She was supposed to be dancing with the man she loved.
Friedrich’s voice came from behind her.
“Your highness, I saw everything. It was a true accident, I assure you.”
She put a hand in the air, effectively quieting him.
“My nephew chose to court you. He gave his time and affection to you. And now, you have put shame upon him and your own family.”
“Your highness-“ Friedrich said but she stopped him once more.
“Friedrich, you will not be marrying Miss Bridgerton as planned. I think it is time you return to Prussia. Though finding a more suitable bride than her is not such a challenge that you couldn’t look in the slums.”
There was a hand on Delilah’s arm, but not Friedrich’s.
“Delilah, let me take you home.”
It was Anthony. He was gently tugging her elbow.
“Delilah.” Friedrich said. But she couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t even breathe. She turned away from The Queen and away from Friedrich and fled with her brother through the ballroom. She could barely see through the haze of tears. Anthony was saying nice things. “It wasn’t your fault.” He said. “Just breathe.”
“It’s going to be ok.”
But she had lost the man she loved and the good favor of her family name all in one fell swoop.
How could it ever be ok again?
It was a humid night, and the air was thick even after they stepped out of the heated ballroom and into the night. Delilah’s chest began heaving and once they were near the carriage she wrenched herself out of Anthony’s grip.
“Delilah.” He said calmly. “I know you must be feeling-“
“What?!” She all but yelled. “What am I feeling right now Anthony? Tell me! Because I don’t know what I’m feeling and if you could just tell me then maybe I can make it go away.”
She threw her hands in her hair.
“He was going to propose. He was going to propose.”
And then she sobbed. Anthony’s arms came around her shoulders and she let him hold her as she cried and cried and cried.
“Shhhhhh…” he said, stroking her hair.
“Let it out.”
There was a flurry of footsteps from the entrance. She didn’t want to face anyone right now. Why couldn’t they gossip inside instead of hanging up on her like vultures?
But it wasn’t curious bystanders that had fled the ball.
“Oh my sweet child!” She heard her mother say. She separated herself from Anthony to look up at her mother. She didn’t look angry or upset, but concerned.
So Delilah threw herself into her mother’s arms and cried anew.
“What happened?” She heard Benedict whisper. He must have come outside with their
Mother.
“Not now.” Anthony replied.
“Let’s go home.” Violet said, guiding her daughter to their carriage. Anthony and Benedict followed suit.
Once seated, Violet allowed Delilah to lay partially in her lap so she could stroke her daughters hair.
“Just breathe.” She said. “It’s all going to be alright.”
It felt like no time at all had passed before they were ambling inside Bridgerton house.
They were surprised to see Eloise sitting on the steps, book in hand. She looked up with a small grin.
“I wanted to see my sister to bed so we could talk about her proposal!”
And then she saw Delilah’s face.
“What happened?” She said, rushing from her post and towards her siblings and mother.
“Let’s not talk about it right now.” Violet said. Delilah had stopped crying but her eyes were red and puffy. She stood on her own, but she was swaying. Her whole body felt numb.
“Help me put your sister to bed. Then the rest of us will have a chat in the drawing room.”
Yes, put her to bed then figure out how to salvage the family name. She was always just a problem, wasn’t she? How could she ever think she was allowed to want things when this was the result?
“It’s all my fault.” Delilah said. “I’ve ruined everything.”
Violet scoffed. “Don’t speak in such a way. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Delilah shook her head. “But I have done something wrong. Im always doing something wrong. Saying something wrong.”
Eloise gave her a light chuckle. “Speak for yourself. Im more of a problem child than you. At least you actually try to act proper.”
Delilah shook her head. “But I don’t.”
“Let me take her to bed.” Anthony said. “She’s speaking nonsense. She needs to rest.”
She whirled around to face him. “Im not speaking nonsense. You told me I could be improper a little while longer. I think my time is up, brother.”
Benedict gave her a strange look. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“She’s fine.” Anthony urged. “Just tired.”
She could see Violet, Benedict and Eloise trying to make sense of the situation. Anthony was giving her a pointed look.
But she was done pretending. She was done lying. She’d already publicly humiliated them, what was another sin or two?
“Sometimes when everyone is too busy to notice-“
“Delilah, please. This doesn’t help anyone. It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters to me.” She said fiercely.
He was wrestling with himself internally. Finally, he gave a long sigh.
“Very well.” He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Very well.”
Delilah turned to the other Bridgertons now staring at her in anticipation.
“Sometimes when everyone is too busy to notice, I do not have extra lessons like I say. I go to the servants quarters and cook. I wash our clothes. And I tend the Hyacinths in the garden.”
Violet looked shocked. Benedict looked surprised. Eloise looked impressed.
“And I talk! I speak to the maids about my day and they speak to me about theirs. I..we speak informally. About life. And about…other things.” She blushed involuntarily. “Womanly things.”
“Like what sort of things?” Eloise asked excitedly.
“Well, who we fancy and the maids marital rel-“
“Delilah Rose Bridgerton!” Violet admonished. Delilah let the rest of the words die on her tongue.
Anthony was scowling at the thought of his sister talking about marital relations. Benedict had shifted from a look of surprise to a look of respect.
“But we talk about other things! Our dreams and our pasts and all the little details of our lives.”
“I cannot believe…” Violet said, growing quite angry. “Accidentally falling into the Queen is one thing. I know you did not do it on purpose. But to…to….cavort with maids and speak of such things! What if they’d talked to the other maids? What if they’d let slip that Delilah Bridgerton was cooking and cleaning and acting like a-“
Violet stopped. Her hand flew to her mouth.
“A what?” Delilah asked quietly.
Violet shook her head, placing a finger to her temple. “I don’t know. Just..acting in such a way.”
Delilah took a step toward her mother. “Say it.”
Violet gave her a pleading look. “My patience was tested, dearest. Please, I do not mean the word I intended to say.”
“Say it!” Delilah screamed.
“ I will not. I did not mean it. Therefore I will not say it.”
The tension was thick between them. Her siblings had all gathered on one side of them, gazing at them with worry evident in their features.
All this time she’d thought she could just have her secret life and eventually run away with someone who would let her be. She thought she could pick and choose the parts of herself that were palatable for certain people and present them when she wanted. But there comes a time in ones life when all those secret parts are revealed. And either you’re ready to face them, or you’re not.
And she was ready.
“Freak.” Delilah said. “You were going to say freak.”
She was tired. Her fight had left her in the same breath she’d used to speak.
“You’re not a freak.” Violet said sternly.
“Aren’t I?” Delilah sighed. “I’m not a man so I can’t choose. I’m not perfect Daphne, and I’m not Eloise or Hyacinth or even Francesca. I’m the clumsy one. I’m Daphne’s shadow. How foolish of me to think we could both shine. She is the sun. She will always be the sun. And I am a freak. I am clumsy. I am loud. I say things wrong. And now I’ve brought us nothing but shame.”
Eloise stomped impatiently and asked, “What happened?” .
“What happened is that I did what I always do. I tripped and I fell, but this time I landed right on the Queen and she thought I was disgracing her. So now I’m ruined.”
Anthony surged forward. “We don’t know that you-“
“Anthony!” Delilah cried. “Maybe society will forget but I don’t care about society. I care about Friedrich. And I care about my family.”
“We care about you too!” Her mother sobbed. “We want you to be happy. We want you to be loved. But we live in a world where there are rules, and to know you’ve been breaking them…I am not trying to stop you from doing what makes you happy. I’m trying to help you stay protected so that it does not take away your advantages.”
There was a loud knocking at the door.
All five Bridgertons whipped their heads around to stare at the door, which was being knocked on so hard it was shaking with the force.
“Oh for the love of tits.” Benedict said. He ran to the door and flung it open.
“We’re in the middle of a family fight, you-“
He paused. Delilah couldn’t see much past Benedict’s tall frame. Her brother turned slowly back to his family.
“Delilah, I think it’s for you.”
And then there was Friedrich. He was standing there, his blonde hair completely disheveled in that way she knew was from running his hands through it. His jacket was half open, and his eyes were wide.
“Delilah!” He said and burst inside. He stopped halfway to her, noting Deilah’s red rimmed eyes and Violet’s fresh tears. Eloise’s face had gone somber and Anthony looked ready to strangle something which was not completely off for Anthony on a normal basis.
He looked at her family only for a moment before he set his sights on her.
In three steps he was there, in her space. She didn’t know what to do, so she began to step away.
“Please.” He said. “You don’t think I care about what my aunt said, do you?”
She shrugged pathetically. “She’s the Queen.”
He rolled his eyes. “She’s full of herself. I love her, truly, but she is quick to anger.”
“Friedrich…” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “I…” And this was it. She’d been keeping it to herself, like she always had. Why was she so determined to keep herself locked in a cage? All that ended up happening was that she broke the bars to get out.
“I’m not a princess.” She said finally. “I’m not even a lady, really.”
“And?” Friedrich asked.
And?
“Delilah, what makes you think I want to marry someone like that?”
It was a simple question, really. One she hadn’t even thought of.
“Well you’re..”
“I’m what?”
“You’re…” she couldn’t even think.
“Tell me what I am Delilah. Because the only thing I know is that I’m in love with you.”
She remembered her own voice not an hour ago.
“What am I feeling right now Anthony? Tell me!.”
It was like a lightning bolt had come down and struck her awake.
She didn’t have to be anything. She didn’t have to be a lady or a princess. She could simply be.
She looked at her family, and then at the floor.
“I think I’m damaged beyond repair.”
“You’re not.” Violet said. Even through tears she managed to sound finite. Definite.
“You’re a Bridgerton.”
And she was. It was funny how she could forget so quickly. Friedrich stepped up to her then, placing a delicate hand under her chin.
“This isn’t how I wanted to do it.” He said, a laugh bubbling from his throat.
“This isn’t what you deserve. But I have to ask you. I have to be with you. Please, Delilah Bridgerton, will you marry me?”
It isn’t what she envisioned either. She hadn’t expected crying or yelling or for several of her siblings to be watching her from five feet away. But it was exactly the kind of thing she’d come to expect out of her life. Chaos.
And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
It was an easy choice.
“Yes. Yes, of course, you needn’t even ask. I’m yours. I have been for some time.”
He smiled, the kind of smile that lit up a room. “I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t yours. I don’t think I could if I tried. Oh!” he turned back. “Anthony, I was going to ask you-“
“You have my permission if that’s what you want. But I’d wager that you don’t even need it. I’m not my sisters keeper…not anymore.”
Anthony was becoming quite good at saying the right things. Delilah gave her brother a nod that told him exactly how she felt.
Thank you. I love you.
“I’m going to bed.” Eloise said, bored. “This has truly been fun but I’ve got much more important things to do with my life, thank you very much.”
Just before she went up the stairs she turned to Delilah. “We’ll debrief in the morning, soldier.”
“I think..” Violet began, grabbing Benedict by the shoulders and steering him in the same direction as Eloise. “That we should retire as well.”
She gave Anthony a small smile. When she turned toward Delilah, her eyes were glassy and full of emotion.
“We’ll speak in the morning, mother.”
“Is there ever a moments’ peace?” Benedict griped as they ascended to their rooms. Delilah chuckled when their mother gave him a small slap upside the head.
“Miss Bridgerton…” Friedrich said, reclaiming Delilah’s attention. “Things will not be easy. But I assure you I will do everything in my power to make sure this union is a happy one.”
Delilah chuckled. “What makes you think it isn’t already a happy one?”
Their hands met absently, and they locked their fingers together tightly. Friedrich brought her hand up to his lips and gave the back of her hand a firm kiss.
She was tingling all over just from that simple gesture.
“Ahem.”
The pair turned towards Anthony and, as was usual when he was chaperoning, the spell was broken.
“I will let you get some rest, then.” The Prince said. He gave Anthony a nod. He gave Delilah a blinding smile.
“Fiancée!” He cried, and pumped a fist on the air.
Delilah didn’t stop giggling until he was out the door and gone.
She turned to face her brother, whose disposition was not quite as sunny as hers.
“This will not be easy.” He said curtly. “The Queen will feel slighted.”
“I know.”
“Friedrich cannot force her to favor the union.”
“I know that too.” She folded her arms.
“We’ll…” he looked around. “Then I suppose it is time for bed.”
He gestured towards the staircase, and Delilah began the climb to her room. She noticed Anthony was not following behind her.
“Ant?” She called, peering down at him over the staircase’s iron railing.
He gave her a tight smile. “Go to bed, Lila.”
And suddenly her worst fear was coming true. Anthony was upset with her. He was pulling away from her.
She supposed she had done the same thing before. And he had every right to be upset. Wit family name was at stake, their livelihood. Her duty was to secure a good match and to keep the Bridgerton name untarnished, but she had utterly failed at that.
The divide between her and Daphne had seemed trivial before. But now, as she watched her favorite brother step away and out of sight down the hall, she realized her actions had dire consequences. And that fact sat heavy in her stomach all the way into her room, and followed her to bed, where it stayed there until she fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Text

Delilah’s teeth worried her bottom lip, and her hands rested atop a silk clad knee that would not stop bouncing up and down. Her heart hammered inside her chest and she felt dizzy. Was it hot in the parlor? She couldn’t even tell. She was nervous. More nervous than just about anything in her entire life.

They were sat in a tea room, far too big and grand. It was the kind of room Delilah shouldn’t be allowed to step into. There were china cabinets along the side wall just waiting for to be shattered. Seven foot gold candlesticks marked the spaces between the massive windows, looking oh so ready to be toppled over, perhaps even toppled into said windows. Even the doors were spectacular. What an expensive method of getting her finger caught in the jamb.

Her energy must have flooded the room, because a hand came from her left and stilled her jerky knee. She grasped the hand with every ounce of strength she possessed.

“I was the same way.”

Daphne’s voice was like silk on sunkissed skin. She hadn’t been able to see her sister at all during the ball, despite it taking place in her own home. Too much had happened too quickly.

“What?”

Daphne tugged on her sisters’ hands to urge her to turn and face her head on. Delilah did so.

“When I met the Queen. I was the same. But I suppose I didn’t have quite as much to prove as you do now.”

After her spectacular display of incoordination, Delilah was sitting inside the tea room of the Queen’s residence, to seek her favor for her wedding.

Wedding.

She was to be married. She had a fiancee!

But those happy thoughts could not make a home in her mind for very long, because any moment the Queen would waltz through that door and tell her definitively if she could have a chance with the love of her life.

Mountains and molehills, dear me.

“What if she says no?” Delilah couldn’t help the small whimpering sound she made. She had her opinions of the Ton, and the arbitrary rules imposed on members of polite society were at the top of her list of things that made no sense whatsoever. Why should her life and her marriage be decided by one woman?

“We will make her say yes.” Daphne insisted. Ever the optimist.

“You seem in good spirits.” Delilah removed her hands from her sisters’ to fold them across her chest. “Is it something to do with Simon?”

Daphne blushed and Delilah smirked. It seemed time apart could not break the bonds of twins - and old habits died hard. They could read each other just as well now, months after Daphne’s leaving, as they could when they were schoolgirls.

“Simon and I are very happy .Our issues are…resolving.” She had a look behin her eyes that Delilah knew meant she wanted to say more, and Delilah welcomed the distraction. But instead, her sister said, “We’re here for you, though. I am not going to relieve my emotional burdens when yours are far more important.”

Of course Daphne chose this exact moment to be a better sister. Delilah appreciated the effort, but longed to listen to anything but the sound of her heart in her ears.

The sound of a door took Delilah out of her thoughts, and she straightened immediately. She stood politely as three figures entered the room. The first was Simon, looking very regal. He smiled at his wife and Delilah and came forward to grasp his wife’s hand in his own. Delilah warmed at the sight.

Friedrich was next. Every time Delilah looked at him a fire lit up somewhere inside her body, hotter and hotter every time. It was as if she was a lantern and he was a match - he lit her up from within.
Friedrich gave her a reassuring grin as he escorted the third person into the room -
The Queen herself.

Her attendant Brimsley had announced her and as was customary, they waited for her to be seated before following behind her. Daphne and Delilah had shared the main couch while waiting, but now Daphne sat with Simon on the loveseat. Friedrich replaced her sister, though he sat much farther away for propriety’s sake.

Delilah focused her attention onto the Queen. She looked rather bored as she stole a colorful macaron from the tray next to her and nibbled on it. She fed a small piece to her dog, a long haired pomeranian who somehow managed to eat elegantly, indicating that even the animals in this home were royal.
“Well…” Queen Charlotte said, once her snack was finished. “I heard quite a bit from these gentleman about you, Miss Bridgerton. But I have to say….I’m not convinced.”

Delilah took a breath. And then another.

“What facets of my character are you unsure about, Your Majesty?”

Queen Charlotte scrutinized her intensely. Her eyes roamed over her dress, which Delilah had chosen oh so carefully. She eyed her hair, which Anita had styled to perfection. She even eyed her slippers. Delilah didn’t have to worry about the quality of her shoes - they were Daphne’s. They were sure to impress.

“You’re a bit portly..”

“Aunt Charlotte!” “Your majesty!” “My god woman.”

All three of Delilah’s companions had spoken at once, defending Delilah. It was heartwarming, to be sure, but she hoped it didn’t hinder her case.

The Queen gave them all a look of indignation. “You didn’t let me finish. Interrupting a Queen is a hangable offense.”

Only Daphne balked at that. Simon looked bored and Freidrich shook his head, scoffing. Delilah didn’t do much of anything besides sit and stare. She was too nervous to do anything more.

“I was going to say, you’re a bit portly, but it suits you. You fill out a gown better than most.”
The Queen’s eyes were kind, and Delilah gave her a small smile. That was unexpected, though definitely welcome.

“However, your coordination is concerning. And though I feel as though I can forgive the manhandling incident from a few nights ago based off these gentleman’s testimony, I have heard whispers of something that I may not be able to forgive.”

Here it was. Delilah’s secret pastimes had gotten out through the maids, and she was now having to face the consequences. She found herself surprisingly calm about the situation.

She looked to her sister for strength, and Daphne was right there, grinning ear to ear andn nodding her head.

You can do it.

Im going to be sick.

Please dont be sick on my shoes.

I’ll do my best.

Delilah had been pointedly ignoring Friedrich during the entire encounter. She could feel him there though, and that burning she felt spurred her on.
“Do you mean the situation with the lady’s maids and my helping around the house?”

She could feel the surprise come from Daphne and Simon - Daphne didn’t actually know about any of it.

The Queen looked positively flabbergasted. She hadn’t expected Delilah to outright admit to it.

“Well, yes. I take it you don’t regret those actions?”

Delilah shook her head. “I learned things. Things many people in the ton could do well with learning themselves.”

A snicker came from the left side of the room, followed by a light slap of a hand on a chest.

There were a few tense moments where the Queen didn’t say anything. She looked at Delilah, then over to Friedrich, then over to Simon, then back to Delilah and round and round until there was no sense keeping track anymore.

“Tell me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The Queen scoffed. “Tell me what you learned.” She waved a dismissive hand as if repeating herself was an impossible task.

The warmth from where Friedrich sat became unbearable, and Delilah chanced a look at him.
He was staring at her, eyes wide. His lopsided grin sat neatly on his handsome face. If she didn’t marry this man she’d go properly insane.

“Cooking fish is easier than cooking pork. Hair curlers leave burns that are shaped like warships. Don’t ever fall in love with a sailor. Mothers are smarter than fathers, and fathers are more loving than mothers. Destiny is not given, but earned. Children need to grow, and yet we give them the least amount of space to do it. Laundry tells a story. Gardens tell a tale. And cleaning tells you things you don’t want to hear.
Wages earned are not always wages made. Nighttime might be dangerous for going out, but it is the best time to get fresh air. Holidays are for family. Weekends are for friends. Lower class workers are higher quality workers. Using your hands makes a task feel sweeter. Finishing a goal makes your life feel fuller. And clumsiness is not a sin, but a virtue. It leads you to places you’ve never been before.”

Everyone sat completely silent. Even the dog didn’t make a sound.

“Namely the floor.” Delilah added onto her speech, before she could think better of it.

A tittering sound filled the room. It was musical but also a bit too loud. A laugh that was genuine and carefree.
And it was coming from the Queen.

Making the Queen laugh had never been a goal for Delilah in the past, but now that she’d achieved it she felt rather proud. Simon had followed suit in the laughing, which made Daphne start as well. Friedrich was chuckling too, and Delilah couldn’t believe that she’d been able to turn the room this way.

Coming down from her high, the Queen pointed a long finger at Delilah. “Oh, I like you, actually. Friedrich, why didn’t you tell me she was funny?”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t listen.”

She ignored that comment. “And forthright. I like a woman who knows what she wants and takes responsibility. They’re very rare.” Her smile was devilish, like she was letting you in on something kept tightly under wraps.

“Your majesty, my sister shines, though not everyone may see it. Everyone wants diamonds. She is something much more rare.”

Sweeter words had not been spoken. Delilah wanted to cry.

“Aunt Charlotte..” It was Fredrich now. “Please say you’ll give your blessing to our union. Not only is this an advantageous match, it is a love match.”

Delilah’s heart quickened. Love. She realized with a start that she hadn't said it back.

The taste of blood filled Delilah’s mouth. She’d been worrying her lip so much the entire time, she’d actually split it open.

The Queen took a good hard look at her nephew and the girl he wanted to marry. One word, one decision and everything could be over. Or everything could just be getting started.

“I declare for you to have a trial marriage.”

Delilah’s eyes widened in shock. She’d gotten what she wanted…right?

“I am misunderstanding.” Friedrich supplied. “Trial marriage?”

“Yes.” The Queen drawled. “Isn’t it an exciting concept? You will both go to Prussia for two weeks, during which time you shall act and behave like a married couple. Obviously, you will not be left unchaperoned, and you will sleep in separate bedchambers. But in all other things, you will be unified. And if I feel as if you make a good fit for Princess, you will have my blessing. If not, you will come back to London and this engagement will be ended permanently.”

Nothing like this had ever been done before, at least not to Delilah’s knowledge. A trial marriage? Like she was trying on a dress to see if she liked the fit, except it wasn’t a dress but her future husband.

“I agree.” Friedrich said quickly. “Whatever it takes.” He turned to face his fiancee.

“Delilah?” he asked.

She considered, only briefly, saying no. Why should she continue to let this woman decide her fate?
But she couldn’t change the entire structure of government in one afternoon tea.

“Yes. Of course I agree.”

“Splendid!” the Queen cried, clapping her hands together giddiliy. “You will leave in a week.”

Leave. She was going to be leaving London, and living in a whole new country. Fear creeped inside her mind.

With the matter decided, everyone stood and let the Queen exit the room, carrying her dog the entire way.

But before she could make it through the door, she let out a tiny ‘Oh!’ and turned back.

“Simon, you will be Miss Bridgerton’s escort.”

Simon balked. “What?”

“You heard me. You and her lady’s maid will escort her.”

She turned to leave again, but Simon forced her to stop. “I cannot do that.”

Her face turned sour, as if sucking on a lemon. “Whyever not?”

He looked nervous, which was a state Delilah had never seen him in before. She looked to Daphne who also looked concerned. Their eyes met.

Daphne….

Not now.

What’s going on?

Nothing. Later,

Please.

I can’t.

It was imperceptible to anyone else. The tiniest of movements. But to Delilah it was everything.

For a brief, brief moment, Daphne’s hand brushed her stomach.

The Queen and Simon were going back and forth, snipping and snarling at each other. Delilah stepped forward and cleared her throat.

“Your majesty, would it be amenable if I brought along one of my brothers instead? My brother Colin loves to travel, and I think he would be best suited for the journey.”

Simon’s forehead was glistening with sweat.

“Yes, that does make more sense, I suppose. Bring a brother, then. Or even two. Lord knows you have enough to go around.”

And then the Queen was gone, and with her, all of the tension.

“Bloody hell.” Simon coughed, letting a breath escape him. “That was close.”

Daphne rushed her sister, throwing her arms around her in a bone crushing hug. “It’s not exactly what you wanted..” she said, pulling away to grab the strand of heir framing her twin’s face. “But it is much better than a no.”

“I think I might need a brandy after that.”

Simon thrust a flask in front of her. Delilah took it cautiously.

He gave her a nod. “You earned it. Plus I owe you for getting me out of that.”

She smiled at him and took a swig. It sat pleasantly warm in her stomach.

Delilah finally put her full attention on Friedrich, who seemed lost in thought. Daphne and Simon began bickering over something or other, giving Delilah a chance to speak semi privately with Friedrich.

“Hello, handsome.”

Friedrich came out of his trance, and smiled blindingly at her. “Hello, gorgeous.”

Delilah looked around. There were no guards standing watch, and she didn’t expect Daphne and Simon would much care if they showed a little bit of affection. So she launched her arms around his neck and hugged him, inhaling the scent of pine that must have been in his soap. He tightened his armsaround her, settling into her. It felt warm and nice and like everything she imagined it would be.

“We have a chance.” Delilah whispered.

“We have a chance.” He answered.

They separated in case of an intrusion, and Delilah ignored the face her sister was making at the sight of them.

“Unfortunately, we do have to get you back.” Daphne said. “You’ve got to pack, not to mention you’ll have to let Colin in on the plan. I’m going to Number Five this week, Simon, so would you mind dropping us both off there?”

Simon nodded, ever the dutiful husband.

Delilah turned back to Friedrich. “I suppose I will see you in Prussia?”

Friedrich shrugged. “I’ll see if I can make it.”

His telltale smirk let her know exactly how he really felt.

The journey to Prussia was almost a week in and of itself, and they’d be travelling separately. She wouldn’t see him for a fortnight.

“Daff, Simon…could you guys go admire the watercolors?” She jerked her head to the side wall, but her eyes stayed on Friedrich. His demeanor changed when he realized what she wanted.

“I’ve seen them plenty.” Daphne said, confused. Simon laughed and whispered in her ear.

“Oh of course!” Daphne cried, and all but dragged Simon over to the opposite end of the room.

When they were far enough away, Friedrich pounced. His lips met hers hungrily. This was desperation. They had to put two weeks’of feelings into this one.

Delilah’s hands tugged at those golden curls, and he moaned into her mouth. His hands worked along her back, and then her ribs before he bent down to grab at the hem of her dress.
His hands worked up her thigh, and her body responded instantly. She was a puddle of molten gold, melting and hardening all at the same time.
His hand went higher, skimming the edge of her stockings. Their mouths didn’t separate, as if they were glued to each other. She explored the warmth of his mouth with her tongue, pushing back just as much as he was.

His fingers, rough from work, were edging into that sensitive area between her legs. She gasped when he made contact, breaking their kiss, and forcing their eyes to meet.
His were dark, and she expected hers must have been roughly the same.

Their breathing began to slow as they just looked at each other.

“We can’t do much more without being alone.”

She nodded, and whined when his fingers left her apex.

She giggled at the state of him and began helping him put himself back together. He returned the favor, smoothing her skirts as she finger combed his hair.

Their wasn’t anything else left to say, not there, so Delilah simply smiled and turned around. Then she remembered...

She rushed back over to Friedrich, turning him by the shoulder just as he made to exit the opposite way.

"I almost forgot." she said in a rush. "I never said it back..."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I love you too." she answered.

His eyes, previously squinted in confusion, widened to the size of dinner plates. He cursed gently under his breath and gave her one more searing kiss. "Say it again." he breathed into her mouth.

"I love you..." she giggled.

"I love you." And he kissed the words into her mouth and skin.

He let her go soon after, though it was a struggle for both of them to part. Delilah rushed over to her sister, forcing herself not to look back.

“Come Daphne, let’s head home.”

She felt her sister and the Duke's footsteps behind her, and once they were close, began walking out the door.

She looked back.

He was looking at her. He was always looking at her.

She shut the door behind her.

“Prussia!?” Colin cried. His mouth was covered in sandwich crumbs. He had been eating when Delilah had informed him of the trip, but had no problem abandoning his food to stand up and look at her like she was completely mental.

“Yes! You haven’t been there before, have you?”

“No, but I can’t go to Prussia. My travel arrangements for Greece have already been made, and I would be leaving halfway through the Prussia trip.”

“So change your arrangements?”

He sighed like she was stupid and not getting it. “I’ll be out like 100 pounds. It’s not cheap!”

That was concerning. If Colin couldn’t go, then she’d have to find another escort.
Benedict chose that exact moment to waltz into the lounge and plop onto the nearest chaise, sketchbook in hand.

“Benny!” Delilah cried, and he looked up at her with a sneer that could curdle cheese.

“Please don’t call me that. Ever again.”

Delilah threw herself down onto the chaise next to him. “So I’ll be travelling to Prussia in a week…”

Benedict’s demeanor changed entirely. “You got the marriage approved?”

“Not exactly. The Queen wants me to have a trial marriage.”

“What the hell is a trial marriage?”

“No idea, but I need a chaperone. Wanna come to Prussia with me?”

He sighed, and Delilah internally groaned.

“I can’t. I would but…I have things here I need to take care of.”

Delilah gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

“Those only work on Anthony.” Benedict said, going right back to his work.

“What works on me?”

Speak of the devil.

Delilah and Anthony had had a…tumultuous past few days, to say the least.

He was having a hard time getting the family name untarnished from the situation at Daphne’s ball, and had had issued with the butcher and the milkman not delivering enough for the entire Bridgerton brood.

“Nothing.” Delilah said, and stood up, eager to leave the room. At this rate the only brother left was Gregory, and she’d spend more time escorting him than the other way around.

“Delilah.” Anthony called. “Mother didn’t say anything about your meeting with the Queen. Am I to presume the engagement is off?”

Her shoulders stiffened.

“She’s having a trial marriage, whatever that means.” came Benedict’s voice.

“Two weeks in Prussia.” came Colin’s.

“Is nothing private?”Delilah cried.

“Not in this house.” Eloise called, passing the doorway on her way from pianoforte lessons to maths.

“You’re going to Prussia!?” Anthony stepped up to her. “Were you going to keep that from me?”

He looked genuinely hurt, which made her feel bad.

“Of course not, I was just trying to secure an escort first, but your brothers hate me.”

“100 pounds!” She could tell from the way he said it Colin was chewing on his sandwich.

Anthony curtly said, “Nonsense, I will escort you.”

This was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She needed to be focused on this trip. If she made even one mistake and it was reported back to the Queen, she’d lose her chance at love and her chance to live in a country with the same values as her own. If Anthony went she’d constantly be worried about tiptoeing around her.

“That won’t be necessary….”

“It may not be necessary but it’s happening.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. She missed teasing Anthony, but knew he needed some time. So she let him squeeze her shoulder before filing out of the room and upstairs.

This was going to be the longest three weeks of her life.

Chapter Text

“Stars above, I must be dreaming!”

Delilah was inclined to agree with her lady’s maid. Seeing Prussia for the first time was nothing like the picture she’d drummed up in her mind - it was much better. 

Trees were everywhere, lush with thick green leaves. They outlined gorgeous villages bustling with people. Delilah’s nose had stayed pressed to the glass of the carriage window, hungrily staring as men and women bustled about. An older woman carried a thick branch across her back, buckets of water hanging from either side. A man chopped firewood in the midday sun, wiping sweat from his brow. Children played carelessly in the streets, laughing and screaming together with such unbridled joy, it made her heart skip a beat.

Some villages had dirt pathways, others stone. Some were closer to the woods. Some were open entirely, with only the sky above them. All of them seemed overwhelmingly happy. 

“This blasted sun is going to be the death of me.” 

Anthony read with a scowl on his face from his corner of the cabin. He didn’t look out at the scenery, just kept his gaze down or on his work. They’d been riding for several hours now, but the footmen had alerted them a few minutes ago that their long journey was almost at an end. He’d been grumpy the entire time. He hadn’t even been pleasant on the boat, where the sea lay before them in glittering folds. It was the most gorgeous thing Delilah had ever laid her eyes on. To Anthony, it was an inconvenience. He had no desire to enjoy the journey, simply wanted to get to its inevitable conclusion.

“Perhaps if you’d worn something lighter…”

He turned that horrible scowl onto her, and she looked away, holding her tongue. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted Anthony with her. He was still upset with her over the mess of their family name, and now he had to follow her to a completely different country simply for the possibility of marrying. 

Her spot as favorite sister must have been completely overtaken by Hyacinth now. 

“Is this all under the Prince’s control? All the villages?” Anita asked. 

“It is.”

“Blimey, that’s a lot of people.”

His territory was large, larger than London by three times at least. If she became Princess, she’d be responsible for the welfare of quite a few people. She tried not to wilt under the thought of it. 

If Friedrich wanted her as his Princess, it was for a reason. More than love, he had to be choosing her because he thought she was capable. 

“Heavens above!” Anita exclaimed. “Is that the palace? ”

Delilah set her sights out the window. They were riding up a long stone drive and towards a building that was grander than anything she’d ever seen. The Queen lived in large quarters, but this was monumental. 

The sun glinted beautifully off the white marble pillars haloing the doors. There had to be at least three towers poking out from the top, all with gorgeous latticed windows. The garden in the front of the house was meticulously cared for, everything exceedingly level and flush with color. 

Delilah imagined tending to that garden herself. She smiled at the thought. 

She could picture herself here. Really picture it.

The servants stood at attention just outside the doors, all dressed in the royal blue and gold Friedrich was always sporting. An older gentleman was standing in the very middle on the arm of a lady who was, to put it mildly, absolutely stunning. She had long golden hair pinned intricately at the crown of her head, and a dress of rich burgundy. A golden sash laid upon her shoulders, matching expertly to the gold of her crown. The gentleman wore a crown as well, a bit more simple than hers. 

The King and Queen of Prussia were waiting for her. Friedrich’s parents…she remembered….were waiting for her. 

And then there was Friedrich. 

He stood with his parents in a more casual version of his fancy jackets, this one plain, still blue, with gold buttons. His breeches were whitest white, and his hair was slicked back, she noted sadly. She liked his hair loose and free with the promise of her hands sinking into it. 

He seemed to be smiling, but it was hard to tell with all the movement. 

Anthony placed a hand on her arm as they came to a rolling stop. Delilah eyed him warily.

“You are trained for this. I know it’s a bit nerve racking, but…you have years of breeding and poise. Just be exceptional.”

It wasn’t exactly a pep talk from Daphne, to be sure, but he was trying his best. She patted the hand he’d placed on her affectionately. 

The footmen opened the door of the carriage and Delilah took great focus as she climbed out of it, praying she did not fall or trip. The gods seemed to be smiling on her, because she exited without a hitch, though her hands did shake considerably. 

Having met Queen Charlotte, she knew better what to expect from meeting the King and Queen. She’d need to be exceptional, as Anthony had said. 

The King and Queen met her at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the palace. She glanced at Friedrich only for a second, too scared to mess anything up if she looked at him for too long. His smile was bright, and she gave him a demure one back.

“Viscount Bridgerton!” The King said, his arm outstretched. “Ah, so good to be meeting you!”

Anthony bowed, ever the picture of a perfect gentleman. “Your highness, it is truly an honor.”

The King thrust his outstretched hand at Anthony, and her brother looked at it, a bit perplexed. Training said never to touch a member of royalty, and there was no member of nobility desiring physical contact from a Viscount.

Delilah stared at her brother as he struggled with what to do and tried not to grow impatient. 

“I think you may want to shake it.” she whispered over to him. She gave the Queen a quick, desperate smile.

The Queen giggled quietly at her.

Anthony finally came to life and placed his hand in the King’s shaking it firmly. The King laughed boisterously, patting his other hand atop Anthony’s. It was an unusually kind greeting, one that Delilah found great joy in. 

“Mrs. Bridgerton!” he called, turning his attention on her. “My son has been keeping us on tender hooks waiting to be meeting you!” 

He offered his hand to her as well, and she shook it enthusiastically.

“Tenterhooks, my love.” said the Queen, in a very posh British accent.

“My English is not so good.” he said apologetically.

“Nonsense, it’s wonderful. And the pleasure is all mine, your Majesty.” She curtsied to him.

“This is my Queen.” said the King, putting an arm around her waist. “She is the real leader here. I follow her orders.”

The Queen smacked his shoulder playfully, but preened under the attention.

Anthony looked absolutely scandalized, and struggled to find something intelligent to say in response. 

“Women often are, aren’t they? My father always said that behind every mediocre man is an incredible woman. So a man such as yourself must have a woman of exceptional caliber.”

They smiled widely back at her. The king wagged a finger at her. “You are just as well spoken as Friedrich say. No wonder he is so taken with you.”

Delilah gave a humble nod, her blush high on her cheeks. Anthony's mouth was agape. She worried flies may find their way inside. 

“Come! We get you both settled!”

She looked at Friedrich properly as his parents turned away from her, and his eyes were already on her, his face one of pride. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” he whispered, walking alongside her. 

“Hi, handsome.” she whispered back, linking their pinkies for the briefest of moments.

Anita was turning her head every which way as they made their way inside the grand entrance, her neck craning to look at all the paintings on the mile-high ceilings. 

“This is Harrison.” The Queen said, gesturing to a tall, red-headed man in his late thirties. He bowed and reached a hand out for both Anthony and Delilah to shake. Anthony still seemed to be adjusting to the change in culture, because he had a dumb look on his face when Harrison said, “Lovely to meet you, m’Lord.”

“Harrison will be your liaison while you stay.” the Queen continued. “Should you need anything at all, or have any questions, he will be your first contact.”

“Aye, am here for anythin’ you may need. I’ll be escorting ya both ‘round the palace during yer stay.”

He addressed all of them, including Anita. She gawked at him, and Delilah thought she must be shocked at a servant speaking in so casual a manner. 

“This is my Lady’s Maid, Anita.” Delilah said, pointing toward her companion. “Treat her well, please. She’s my greatest friend.”

Harrison gave Anita a once-over. “Oh aye, I’ll be sure to take very good care of her.”

Delilah’s eyebrows shot up. Was she sensing what she thought she was sensing?

Anita’s gaze had gone to the ground.

“Harrison can be showing you to your rooms. My wife and I have a business meeting shortly, so we will not be seeing you again until dinner.”

The King gave them a quick bow. “We will talk more then about you’re being of the Princess.”

Delilah curtsied as the King and Queen took their exit. She had expected that to go much, much worse, but in fact, it had been so very easy. Anthony, however, looked as if he’d just been through a rough boxing match.

“What on earth just happened?” he asked, his hand shoving into his hair.

“My parents are quite the match, don’t you think?” Friedrich asked. Delilah smiled up at him, but kept her hands at her side. She was going to die having to not touch him whenever she wanted.

“They were wonderful! So open. I didn’t really expect that.”

He chuckled. “Like I said, we are a people that enjoy community. No one is above anyone else.”

Harrison made himself known with a grunt. “Yer highness, shall we take them upstairs?”

Friedrich nodded his assent. “Yes, let’s get you settled. I have to be in attendance of the meeting with my parents, but…” He looked at Delilah only. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

She nodded. “You’d have to drag me out of this house kicking and screaming before I say no.”

His grin turned wicked. “Good.”

“Yes, well…” Anthony gestured to the stairs and Delilah rolled her eyes. She took one last look at her fiancee before making her way up the stairs. Harrison led the way, Anita falling in step with Delilah. Anthony took up the rear.

Delilah smacked Anita’s arm to catch her eye. She subtly nodded in Harrison’s direction. 

Anita’s eyes widened. “Oh my god?” she mouthed.

Delilah giggled behind her hand. 

Anthony’s room came up first, just off the main staircase, but he insisted on going to Delilah’s room with her. He wanted to make sure he knew where it was. 

Her room was a bit farther away, and they hooked a left before stopping at a door halfway down the hall. There were two doors instead of one, and once inside, Delilah’s jaw dropped against her chest.

The room was massive. The bed itself was fit for half the Brigerton brood to fit comfortably, maybe more. The sheets were silken, and lavender in color. 

She had a vanity done in a beautiful light oak, with all kinds of brushes, creams, tonics…anything she could have asked for. 

The armoire was done the same way, with ornate metal handles. She stood on a rug that would have easily covered the Grand piano in their sitting room three times over. 

“Here ye are.” Harrison said. “I hope the room is to yer likin’.”

“Are you kidding me? This room must have it’s own postman.”

Anita had been just as shocked as she was, and she had begun giggling as she ran around to all the different corners. “If this is your room, mine must be an apartment!”

“Yours is jus’ next door, Miss. Shall I show ye?”

Anita nodded, still staring all around. She followed Harrison out the door, and then it was just her and Anthony.

Delilah sat on her new bed, her hand skimming across the delicate fabric.

“I daresay you handled that far better than I did.” Anthony shut the door.

“Friedrich told me about this place, but it's so much better than I could have imagined.”

He nodded, staying quiet.

Delilah rubbed her arm nervously. “Well, you saw my room. Are you happy?”

“No, no not really.”

Was he really going to continue punishing her? It didn’t seem fair. 

“Anthony I know you’re still upset about the incident with the Queen, but it’s been two weeks. I know your hands were full fixing it for me, and I appreciate it, truly. But I hate that you’re so mad at me.”

Anthony’s brows furrowed. “Delilah, I’m not upset with you.”

She scoffed. “Then why have you been so cold? So distant? It felt like I got my brother back only to have him stray even farther away in the span of one night.”

He blew out a breath and stalked over to the bed, collapsing next to her. He sat for a moment, but then thought better of it and laid back completely, his knees bending at the edge and feet still firmly on the floor. 

“Will you promise not to be upset with me?”

“Not possible.”

He sat back up. “I seem to remember you being rather terse with me about my involvement in yours and Daphne’s marriage prospects not that long ago.”

“Ok, mildly possible. I make no promises.”

He gave her a boyish grin, and she wished he would smile more. It killed her to see him so stoic all the time. 

“I’ve been…a bit disagreeable…because I am actually quite jealous.”

She jerked a bit, surprised at his answer. “Jealous? What of?”

“You and Daphne have found love. Love…love like mother and father’s. True love.” 

Delilah laughed. “Oh, Anthony. You are going to find love one day too.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know about that.”

“Why would you say that? You are the most eligible bachelor in all of London. You have money, you have status…most of all, you have choice. Opportunity to find the girl you are meant to be with. Why wouldn’t you find love?”

He sighed, frustrated. She didn’t think it was frustration with her, but she wasn’t quite sure what he could be frustrated about. Had he met someone? Had he had his heart broken?

“There’s a girl….isn’t there?”

Anthony sighed again. “Not really. Not anymore.”

“So there was one?”

He stood then, a clear indication he didn’t like the direction of the conversation. She and Anthony both had issues with emotional immaturity. It had taken her a long time to be honest with Daphne, and she would let him come to her in his own time too. 

That was why they were each others’ favorites, after all. Late night walks and secret iced cream seemed a much better solution to tough problems than a good old fashioned talk. Everyone else in the Bridgerton family were so open, so honest. They were the two with the biggest internal conflict, and so they clung to each other tightly, unsure of where else to turn.

But things were different for her now. She’d opened up, and her life had blossomed. His would too when the time came. 

“I will see you at dinner.” he said in lieu of goodbye.

“Ok.”

His footsteps receded down the hall.

And then, a moment later, they returned.

“Be sure to wear the green chiffon tonight.” he said, ducking his head in.

“Are you telling me how to dress? You’re as bad as mother.”

“I may not know how to act in this country, but men are the same everywhere, are they not?”

He retreated down the hall again but this time, he did not turn back. 

Was he helping her impress Friedrich, or impress the crown? She couldn’t be sure, but she did trust him. She’d do the talking and he’d…give fashion advice, apparently.

The green chiffon was truly the best idea Anthony had had in his life.

She and Anita had descended the stairs, Anita wearing one of her nicer day dresses. Delilah took a note to update her wardrobe the second she had the chance. All the servants here dressed rather casually, but smartly. There was no uniform, which was exciting, and she hoped that Anita was finding just as much to appreciate in Prussia as Delilah was.

Harrison, Anthony and Friedrich had waited for them at the bottom of the stairs. Anthony gave her a subtle, appreciative nod when he’d seen she’d taken his advice. But it was Friedrich she was looking at.

They hadn’t had a chance to really be around each other in weeks. Their meeting earlier had been so short, and even this dinner would be under the watchful eye of the King and Queen. But she’d be with him, and they’d be able to talk in some fashion - it was better than nothing. 

Friedrich’s entire face had changed when he’d seen her. His jaw had gone slack, his eyes wide. She noticed his hands clenching in their spot against his sides. He was affected by her, and the knowledge made her heady. 

He was wearing a different jacket, a white one, and he looked like a statue carved just for her. His hair was still slicked back, but the rest of him was so deliciously good-looking that she had no complaints.

“Mrs. Bridgerton…” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “You look….radiant.”

She smiled and dipped her head. “The white is rather…becoming on you.” 

He took her arm in his. “No longer a fan of the blue?”

“Oh, I will always prefer you in blue. But white is most definitely a close second.”

He grinned and leaned into her. “When I marry you, I’m buying you an entire closet full of dresses in that shade of green. It’s driving me mad.”

She looked around to ensure no one had heard, thankful Anthony had ended up behind Anita, who was chatting with Harrison amiably. They seemed to have grown comfortable after his tour of her rooms.

The King and Queen stood just inside the dining room, which was lit by the largest chandelier she’d ever seen in her life. Thousands of clear glass adornments hung in a pear shape, the light reflecting and catching on every piece. She gasped, never seeing something so large and beautiful. 

“Do you like it?” Friedrich asked, following her eyes.

“It’s incredible. It must have taken ages for that to be made.”

He grinned. “Oh, it did. Three summers in fact.”

She whipped around to face him so fast, the chignon her hair was in threatened to come undone. “You made that!?”

He laughed. “My uncle and I did. He wasn’t just a tinkerer, he was a creator. He loved to work with his hands.”

She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. She knew the value of hard work, but that…that had been a labor of love. 

“Sit!” cried the King, as they all filed in. “Come and do the eating!”

The dining table was incredibly long. It could easily fit fifty or so people. Imagine her surprise when almost that many people began filing in, chattering away. The employees of the palace were joining them for dinner. 

“I hope you’re ok with loud conversation.” Friedrich teased. 

“I have eight siblings. I’ve never felt more at home.”

The King sat at the head of the table, the Queen on his right. Friedrich had Anthony sit next to the King so he could sit across from Delilah. He pushed in her chair for her before circling round to the other side and taking his own seat.  Anthony looked very put out at the sight of all the people joining the table, but Delilah gave him a stern look. He pretended not to notice.

The Queen cleared her throat and stood, addressing the table. “Good evening, everyone! Thank you for another day of hard work. Your service and devotion do not go unnoticed.”

Delilah watched all the faces at the other end of the table. They were smiling, appreciative. They really had a love for their crown. 

“And we welcome to our home Miss Delilah Bridgerton and her brother, Viscount Bridgerton. She will be acting Princess starting tomorrow, so we expect you to treat her as such.”

The Queen gave Delilah a dazzling smile. “We are sure she will treat you with the same respect we expect of our nobility.”

Friedrich gently nudged her foot under the table. Delilah gave him a questioning look, and he motioned for her to grab her glass.

“Let us eat, drink and be merry!”

Forty-odd people all raised their glasses before tapping them against the wood of the table. Delilah followed Friedrich’s lead, raising and then tapping her own, albeit a few beats behind. She took a long swig and was shocked when the drink was strong. She’d been given brandy.

Immediately voices began overlapping over one another, the staff talking and laughing as they ate. They were eating the food they had made, she thought. It was like the best parts of home had been put into this place.

“This is amazing!” she called over at Friedrich, beginning to eat herself. 

“Isn’t it? I hate dinner parties in London. So dull.”

Anthony bristled at that. “We like to keep our decorum, is all.”

“Decorum?” Delilah asked. “There’s a difference between decorum and downright stodgy.”

“Things are quite different here. It is…a lot for one to get accustomed to.” Friedrich said it very politely, offering Anthony a friendly smile. Anthony remained respectful, but continued to act cold. 

The Queen decided to chime in. "Mr. Bridgerton, I understand your hesitation. Moving here was a culture shock, to be sure.” 

Anthony tilted his head, curious. “Are you from London, your Highness?”

She shook her head. “Mayfair.”

“I didn’t think there was anyone titled above a Viscountess in Mayfair.”

“You would be right about that.” She said slyly, forking herself a bite of peas.

The Queen was saying that no one in Mayfair was of nobility, which meant that she wasn’t nobility. She must have been a Lady, then.

“What noble family are you from, your Highness?” Delilah asked.

“None.” she answered plainly. “I was a tailor’s apprentice.”

Anthony practically choked on his chicken. 

Delilah was excited learning this information. The Queen was not of noble breeding, but a common woman. 

“How did you meet the King?” asked Anita, stars in her eyes. For a servant, that must have been the ultimate tale of rags of riches. 

“Well, Gunther? How did we meet?” 

Gunther gave her a smile so full of love, it almost felt too intimate to be witnessed. 

“Ah, my lovely. I remember that day so well it is like fire in my mind.”

“Burnt in his memory.” The Queen translated.

“Yes. I was staying in London for business. I was Prince, not King. Anastasia was running an errand for boss. Getting silk. I was in a rush and my carriage was going too quickly. We almost ran her over. I stuck my head out to apologize. My english was even worse back then. And when I stuck my head out, I saw how beautiful she was. Her face, yes, was beautiful. But she was in the street yelling. ‘ Learn how to drive you piece of shit.’ That was the first thing she ever said to me. It was like arrow right in my heart from Cupid himself.”

Delilah thought that falling right into Friedrich’s arms was suddenly a much less exciting story compared to theirs. 

“Oh my.” Anthony said. 

“That is so romantic.” Anita said, dabbing at her face with the napkin Harrison had passed her. 

“And now she’s a Queen who makes her own dresses.” Friedrich said. 

Was everyone in this family ridiculously talented?

“First the chandelier, now the dresses!” Delilah cried. “Did you make the one you’re wearing?”

Anastasia nodded. “I have a studio in our private wing.”

“What chandelier?” asked Anthony.

“The one above our heads. Friedrich made it with his uncle.” 

“Louis!” cried the King. “My brother was talented man. Losing him was the worst day of our lives. He made this as present for overtaking Poland.”

Anthony stared upwards, his appreciation for the piece increasing tenfold. Something must have struck a chord in him, because he didn’t speak for the rest of the dinner.

Once the workers had finished, the King requested that Delilah, Friedrich and Anthony retire to the study with them. Delilah bid Anita goodnight, and watched as Harrison guided her back upstairs. She and Anita would be having a nice long talk the next time they were able about a certain handsome Scotsman. 

“So.” Gunther said. “Tomorrow, you will be acting Princess. Harrison will be your assist. He will take you to all duties, explain them, all of this.”

Delilah nodded determinedly, her hand absently playing with one of Friedrich’s fingers. 

“Splendid.” said Anthony. “What kind of duties are these? Color swatches? Party planning?”

Gunther let out a loud bellow of a laugh. Even the Queen and Friedrich laughed a little, unaccustomed to the whims of London nobility.

Anthony started to laugh too, confused. “Have I said something funny?”

“We do things much differently than in the ton.” Anastasia explained. “A princess here is not an ornament. She is a worker, like the people who made our dinner and clean our clothes and tidy the home. It’s not quite as simple as that.”

The King took back over. “Since this is trial, we have arranged many tests for Miss Delilah. We want to be making sure she can handle everything we have to throw at her here. Tomorrow we will go into the main village, Farevale. There is a barn raising.”

“Barn raising!?”

“Barn raising!?”

Anthony and Delilah had spoken at the same time, Anthony’s tone one of disbelief, and Delilah’s one of absolute joy.

“Oh, Anita snuck me out to one a few years ago! It’s so fun Anthony. You help raise it and then everyone eats and drinks and throws a party.”

Gunther gave her a warm smile. “You are already a fan!”

“Very big fan, yes.”

“Well," Anthony said haughtily. "It seems that my presence at that event isn’t going to be necessary. I’ll just stay behind, especially since Delilah is apparently an expert.”

“Viscount.” said the Queen. “While Delilah may be the one courting Friedrich, we are a people and a monarchy devoted to community. If her family is not what we are looking for, then that is as good of a reason as any for us to deny this union.”

Delilah’s hand tightened around Friedrich’s finger, and he put his hand entirely in hers. Anthony froze. 

“So you’re saying…”

“We are saying that you are just as much on trial here as your sister.”

Of course it couldn’t be that simple. 

Her fate, and the fate of her love life, were in the hands of Anthony. 

She might as well not even unpack.

Chapter Text

Once dinner had concluded, Anthony had stood a few paces back as Friedrich escorted her to her room. It was their first moment semi alone, and Delilah tried to keep her composure as he placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the hall. 

“Mrs. Bridgerton…” Friedrich said. “I have missed you greatly during our time apart.”

“It has been quite dreadful, your Highness. Seeing you this morning was like sun after a long rain.”

He smiled warmly. “I thought only of you every night that you were travelling here. Seeing you in my home country has been one of my life’s greatest joys.”

Their eyes held longing and desire that would remain unfulfilled so long as Anthony remained nearby. It was awful being so close. She wished Anita had chaperoned her. Then they might have a moment truly to themselves.

Friedrich bowed low before her, kissing her hand. “I will see you on the morrow then.”

She curtsied back. Anthony looked at his watch.

“On the morrow, my prince.”

She watched him walk down the hall, further into the castle. This was going to be an unbearably long two weeks.

“Well, if that is all….” Anthony said, and scurried off to his own room. She rolled her eyes and went through the double doors of her suite. 

And stopped in her tracks. Prince Friedrich was inside her room.

“Your highness!” She gasped. “But you just went the other way?”

He grinned and surged forward, his hands reaching for her. He settled them onto her hips and giggled - actually giggled- as she gaped at him.

“I made arrangements to have your room adjoin with my attendant’s room. He sleeps next door to me.”

He seemed rather proud of himself, and she thought it was adorable.

“Is this wise?” She asked, as his hands began to roam. She gripped his lapels to anchor herself, her body responding to his touch.

“No, it is not. But the worst that can happen is that we are forced to marry….”

His lips found purchase on her neck, and he nipped playfully. She sucked in a short breath, unable to contain her reaction.

“That would be truly foolish indeed.”

He had placed his hands firmly on her backside, and she decided it was time to rid him of the gel that kept his hair from her. Her fingers worked their way into his golden strands and began teasing and pulling. She didn’t expect him to release a low moan at the contact. Emboldened, she continued her ministrations, and placed kisses along his jaw. 

He removed one of his hands from her backside to come up to her jaw and sharply turned her face toward his. His lips connected with hers, and she loved that he tasted like brandy.

The kiss was passionate. Two weeks’ worth of pent up emotion was spurring them on, and from there things only got more intense. 

He walked her backwards until her knees hit the too-large bed and he tossed her down onto it. The mattress was so soft she bounced off of it, and she laughed as he lowered himself down and back into his arms.

“Where did you get this dress?” He asked, reaching to undo the row do of buttons on the back.

“The modiste of course.” She said slyly into his mouth. 

“I must send her a thank you card. It’s positively sinful.”

The green went incredibly well with Delilah’s complexion, but it was also cut a tad lower than was in fashion. It fit snugly at the waist, giving a hint at her curves, and on a smaller woman would probably overpower them. But on Delilah, it was perfect.

Once the buttons were undone, the prince pulled her dress down. Panic rose in her chest as she realized he was going to see her form. Only her mother and sisters had ever seen her without clothing (barring the time Benedict had accidentally walked into her room after a drunken night and had spent the entire next day drinking even more in order to burn the image out of his mind) and although she knew Friedrich liked her body, it was still a frightening prospect.

Just as the fabric was about to come down and reveal her breasts, she placed a hand on Friedrich’s.

“I’m scared.” She said, her eyes wide. 

His expression softened. He kissed the hand she’d given him and sat up.

“Would you like to stop?” He asked, his eyes searching hers. 

“No!” She said quickly. 

He chuckled. “Ok…then what if we do it together?”

Together sounded like perfection.

She nodded shyly, and before he could do it himself she reached up to begin lifting the hem of his shirt. He reached back up for the hem of her dress, smiling at her encouragingly.

They began removing each other’s clothing slowly. It was awkward, and their hands tangled together, making them laugh loudly. Friedrich snorted as his left arm came through the hole between both of hers, and she finished pulling his shirt off. 

She felt the air on her breasts, but she looked only at him. His chest was broad, with a thatch of that curly blonde hair nestled in the center of his chest. He had defined abs that she longed to run her hands over, and his skin was tanned, as if he’d spent time out in the sun.

“God, I can’t believe you’re real…” he said, his eyes on her breasts. He’d pulled her dress down to her navel, so the entire top half of her was exposed. 

“You’re beautiful.” She told him. 

“You’re everything.” He said in response.

He brought his hands onto her breast and palmed at the flesh. She arced as he pinched and played with her nipple, sending shockwaves to her core. This was much different than she’d expected. She hadn’t known it would be so pleasurable, so intense, and just with touches. 

She ran her hands along his chest, hoping to make him feel her desire as much as she felt his. “Quick learner…” he mumbled as he dipped to take her breast in his mouth. She cried out, her pleasure mounting. 

His left hand began wandering down her body, touching her stomach…her sides..her back…she didn’t even feel self conscious about the skin that folded over there, just reveled in him and his touch. 

“I want you..” he said, bringing his eyes to meet hers. “But I fear that if I have you, and they don’t approve the marriage…”

Delilah placed her hands on the sides of his face.

“You’re worried about my reputation now? Look at the state of me.”

He brushed a strand of hair off her face. “I know. I just…I worry about you. I will always worry about you.”

Her heart pitter pattered in her chest. Even engaged, even after admitting their feelings, she still couldn’t quite believe that he was real, and that he somehow wanted her.

“I will be ok. But you might be right…besides, won’t it be so much more satisfactory doing this on our wedding night? Once we’ve earned it?”

His eyes melted from desire to affection. “Hard work merits reward.”

“Exactly!” She cried. “And we are two people who rather enjoy hard work.”

“That we are.”

He kissed her again, and before he could think better of it, he rose off of her. He gave her his hands so she could lift herself up, and they began covering themselves up.

“Your brother is in strange spirits. Is he alright?” The prince asked, readjusting his collar.

“I think Anthony bit off a bit more than he could chew, I’m afraid. He’s not one to be…flexible.”

It was a generous way for her to phrase it, to be sure. 

“I suspect I’ll have to have a chat with him.” She added, chewing on her lip.

Friedrich reached up to her face and used his thumb to remove her lip from her teeth. “You always do that when you’re worried.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I know it’s unbecoming.”

His eyes, however, had turned dark, the same way they had looked when she’d been naked before him. “It’s quite distracting.”

“Distracting? However so?”

“Calling attention to your lips when I cannot kiss them is quite unfair.”

Blast it, he was the devil. He was stoking that fire inside her again, and she decided that she was not going to play fair.

She brought her lip between her teeth once again. “Sorry, habit.”

He cursed and went toward her exactly as she’d hoped he would and kissed her until she was well and truly certain that waiting until their wedding night would be hard work, indeed.

Sweat had been rolling down her back for an hour.

Her arms were sore from carrying baskets of supplies. The ground in Farevale was quite uneven, and her feet were surely blistered from all of the walking. 

Patches of redness had bloomed across her cheeks and chest from the exertion, but despite all of these inconveniences, Delilah was happy.

She had been dreadfully nervous entering the village that morning. Even with Friedrich’s hand in hers, because they were trial married and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to hold his hand, the self doubt had creeped in. Were these people going to like her? Worse even, would they think her a capable princess? 

Anita had been talking animatedly all morning to Harrison. He didn’t seem to say much, but he listened to Anita like she was some sort of enthralling play. He oohed and ahhed at the appropriate times, and had laughed heartily at all her jokes. Delilah had been so worried for her friend not finding Prussia to her liking, but it seemed Anita was flourishing here.

And Delilah was too, she realized.

Once she’d gotten past the initial doubt and had been handed a task, everything came much easier. 

The women were usually in support roles for this kind of thing, passing out supplies and helping secure equipment. Most of them were standing around a large table shucking corn for the party afterwards, and that is where Anita fell in, gabbing and giggling with the other women, content to have something to do that was familiar.

Delilah could cook anywhere, she reasoned. She was here to raise a barn. 

A gruff looking woman was giving out orders, and Delilah placed herself in front of her. 

“Looking for work?” she asked, her accent thick but her patience paper thin.

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Start carrying these” she pointed to a row of baskets “Over to the men.”

The baskets were full of heavy rope, and some with shears lying precariously on top. Delilah swung the basket into her hand, surprised at how easily she carried it. She had gained strength during her escapades with the maids, and that knowledge was empowering. She was strong, and capable, and she was able to use that strength to make things happen.

As she carried the second to last basket over to the men, she eyed Anthony. He was still wearing his coat despite the sweltering heat, and he struggled to tie the knot securely around the side of the barn lying flat on the ground. Freidrich was with him, giving him instructions, but he either wasn’t getting it or couldn’t. 

Delilah set her basket down by a pair of men securing the roof. She marched up to her brother, hands on her hips. 

“Going well?” 

Friedrich gave her a dazzling smile. “I see you’ve become quite the delivery woman.”

“I find myself rather refreshed from the activity. Anthony? How about you?”

He was pulling on two ends of a rope and struggling to make them connect. “What?” he barked loudly, in a tone of voice that most people would find impolite.

“I said are you feeling refreshed?”

He let go of the ropes and cursed. “Refreshingly unable to complete this task.”

“Perhaps if you noticed that you were pulling two ends of the same rope, your problem might be solved?”

Friedrich giggled into her ear as Anthony looked around and noticed the end he’d meant to tie was lying a few feet away, and he was indeed trying to tie the same length of rope together with itself.

“And you all do this for fun?” he asked bitterly as he connected the ropes correctly.

“It’s necessary, but it can also be fun.” said the prince, taking a second look at Anthony’s work.

“Nothing in London is like that.” he commented. “Everything necessary is dreadfully boring.”

“Society in London prohibits it from being so.”

“Anthony…” Delilah interrupted. “I know last night’s surprise must have been hard for you, but do you think that you’re going to be alright? I’ve never seen you quite so flustered.”

He wiped his brow with his sleeve. “I’m perfectly capable of doing physical labor. In fact, as a man, I expect I’ll be quite good.”

Friddrich murmured his assent, though  he retied the knot Anthony had done, which was too weak.

“Ok…I just…this is important to me. This is not just a marriage for my family, but for me. And I have to see this through. Are you prepared to do that?”

Despite his agitation, he still managed to give her a softer look. “You know I desire your happiness just as much as I desire all of my siblings to be happy.”

“There is still a chance to call for Benedict. You two can switch off, and he can be my escort next week.”

He took a moment to sweep his eyes across the village, eyeing the other men and women as they worked with efficiency.

“I chose to come here to escort you because I am responsible for your safety. I will not back down because of one barn raising.”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “Ok then. Go grab that basket over there and bring it to the men working on the back piece.”

He balked. “Why?”

“Because you’re horrible at this, and I didn’t come all the way to Prussia to worry about what job suits me based on gender. I came here to work.”

It seemed she had managed to surprise her brother, because his expression shifted into one of respect. “Well alright then. Women’s work it is.”

She watched fondly as he brought the basket over, ignoring the men’s indignant looks as they wondered why he was suddenly on delivery duty.

“Can I help?” Delilah asked. 

Friedrich shook his head. “The tying’s all done. Time to start the raising.”

“Then I’ll help with that.”

He looked like he might want to protest, but after a moment he shrugged his shoulders. “You really enjoy this kind of work?”

“I’ve never enjoyed anything better.”

Delilah loved the feeling of pulling on the rope. It was the grittiest, most exertive thing she’d ever had the pleasure of doing. People gave her strange looks as she stood by their side of the barn, but once she had begun tugging on the rope to raise the wall, they had no complaints. She and Friedrich were the perfect team.

Any direction he gave, she followed exactly. If she felt something was off, he listened. People cheered when their section of the barn was properly in place, and then they stood off to the side to watch with the other onlookers. 

“Splendid job.” King Gunther said. He and Queen Anastasia had been speaking with some of the town leaders about the crops for this year. They’d been yielding nicely, but they were worried about the winter and having enough to feed their growing numbers. 

“How did your meeting go, your Highness?” Asked Delilah.

“Tunich has an abundance of crops this year. If we distribute evenly, and supplement where we can, things should work out nicely.”

Tunich was a neighboring village, one of the ones she’d seen from the carriage with the woman and the buckets. She had had Friedrich give her a quick lesson in their geography on their way to Farevale that morning.

“I should like to visit them. I notice the soil here is quite dry.” 

Friedrich eyed her. “It is?”

“Oh yes. Because they are closer to the woods there is less rainfall coming down. Tunich is quite open to the elements. I suspect their soil is quite loamy, and therefore yields highly because I of it.”

The King gave her an appraising look. “You know much of gardening?”

“It’s probably my favorite task. I read all the books on plants in our family library. Our housekeeper didn’t like me gardening too often, even though I kept the flowers best. It was not considered proper.”

“I always hated gardening.” The Queen said. “Gunther has never been able to keep anything green alive either, I’m afraid.”

“It takes a special sort.” 

“I imagine it does.” She said kindly. Her eyes held something more than just a general regard, it seemed she looked…impressed.

Perhaps Anthony would not be such a nuisance in her desire to marry Friedrich after all.

“What the devil!” Came a familiar voice, and it was followed by a large crash. 

The foursome turned toward the barn, where the piece that had been halfway up in the air had become crashing down to the ground, causing a great deal of dirt to fly into the air. As it settled, she saw Anthony on all fours, struggling to right himself. 

Funny how she was the clumsy one, but he seemed to be bumbling around worse than her.

“Anthony!” She cried, going to his side. “Are you alright?”

“Blasted ropes!” He cried, finally upright. He dusted his jacket off. “I tripped over them.”

The men who had been in the middle of raising the wall were looking quite grumpy at having their work undone. One of them approached Anthony, murder in his eyes. 

“Watch where you’re going! Someone could have gotten hurt.”

Her brother at least had the sense to look remorseful. “I do apologize for my clumsiness. I’m normally much more sure footed.”

The other man shook his head. “You London types are a sort, aren’t you? Think you can do whatever you wish.”

“It was an accident.” Delilah said, bowing her head. “My brother is not so used to hard labor.”

He gave her a scathing once over, but nodded. “Well, good thing he’s not the one in line for the crown. Else we’d all be doomed.”

“Indeed.” She replied, and gave them both an apologetic smile as she dragged Anthony by his arm and away from them.

“I thought you said you were going to be fine!” She admonished, once they’d gotten far enough away to not be within earshot.

“I was!” He cried. “It’s not my fault! I just…it just happened….I don’t know…”

She was struck by how his face looked. He was truly upset with himself. She knew all too well what that feeling was like. How many times had she herself begged forgiveness after an awful blunder? How many broken glasses had she desperately fingered at, trying to somehow undo her actions?

Anthony looked exactly as she had anytime she’d caused an accident. It seemed they were a bit more alike than she’d ever realized.

“It’s ok…” she said, bringing him into a hug. “It was an accident.”

He seemed not to expect her comfort. His arms took a moment to come around her.

“You’re not mad?”

She pulled away and laughed. “How can I be? I’ve tripped over every rug in every noble house in London. I’d be a proper hypocrite if I was.”

“That’s true.”

She slapped the backside of his head. “That doesn’t mean you need to agree with me.”

He rubbed at the point of impact, but he was laughing too. “Noted.”

“I made some headway with the King and Queen anyhow. Let’s find them.”

The Royal family didn’t bring up Anthony’s blunder, but they did fire a line of questioning at him during the party. He was trapped in conversation with them, being asked about his role as viscount, his family, his plans for a wife, of which Delilah suspected he currently had none.

They were very pleasant to Delilah, and had even given her leave to have a stroll around the village with Friedrich, so long as Anita and Harrison joined them. 

Harrison and Anita stayed a few feet behind. Delilah had given her a look when Harrison had taken her arm, and she’d all but melted into a puddle there in the dirt.

“Tell me about your father.” Friedrich said, as they began to take a turn around the town square.

She smiled. “If you tell me about your uncle.”

“Deal.”

She motioned for him to go ahead, and he tried not to look pained when he started talking. The loss of his uncle was something that had been very difficult for him.

“His name was Louis. He…well, you know he tinkered. He fixed clocks as a hobby, and anything else. And he was very quiet. But not in an awkward way, he actually had a very sharp wit. He only interjected when he had something to say, and it was always painfully smart.”

“He sounds like Eloise.”

“Yes! Exactly like Eloise. Just as well read too.”

She had been oh so curious about the chandelier from the dining room. Every night she seemed to gaze upon it, like a moth drawn to the flame. It held so many memories for her prince.

"When did you make the chandelier?"

His eyes turned misty at that. "We started it the summer I turned ten and 3. We finished it the summer I turned ten and 6. He died that winter."

He seemed to get lost in the memory of him. Delilah had done the same the day in the park, when she'd thought of her father so long and so hard, she'd not realized they'd crossed several blocks. 

"It was the last thing we made together. It was the last gift he gave my father."

“Your father seemed to have loved him well.” She said, after a moment. They were coming up on some small shops. There was one for soaps, one for clothing and quite a few bakeries.

“They weren’t just brothers, they were best friends. Two halves of a whole, my grandmother always said.”

Just as she and Daphne were, she thought. She hoped her sister could come to Prussia one day. She’d be much more suited to the lifestyle than any of her other siblings. Even Eloise would probably find some minute fault in the system, but Daphne would dive right in if it was appropriate. 

Colin would be too busy eating to care about the work. Benedict would be painting it all, claiming someone had to document the gorgeous landscape. Hyacinth and Gregory would fit right in with the other kids in town, tossing marbles and chasing each other around, laughing.

She missed her family terribly.

“It’s a connection unlike any, having a sibling so close. Daphne and I had our own secret language”

“A language requires words. What you two have is sorcery.”

She offered him a cheeky grin. “Jealous?”

“Never.” He said, turning them both around a corner.

“Did he have a wife?” Delilah inquired. Friedrich shook his head.

“He never took one. He had a close companion, Gilderoy. He oversees our treasury.”

“Close companion? Are you saying-“

“He enjoyed the company of men over women. I understand that that is not something done in society, and not even here is it considered appropriate. But my father never cared. He took great lengths to protect my uncle at every turn.”

Delilah had never heard of such a thing being done, but she didn’t find herself minding much. If Louis felt at peace in the company of men, then who was she to judge or balk? It was the ultimate renouncing of society, in fact, and for that she thought it quite an excellent sort of thing. 

They were turning back now, going the same way that they had come. Bees buzzed around her as they passed a flower shop, sporting blooming roses and fragrant mint.

“So I suppose it’s my turn…” Delilah sighed.

“If you don’t wish to-“

“No, of course not. My father was a great man. He deserves to be talked about.”

The Prince nodded, offering his support with a firm squeeze to her arm. The weather was exceptionally fair, and the breeze reminded her of days spent in the gardens at Aubrey Hall.

“He was kind. Kinder than most. And gentle. He loved my mother exceptionally well.”

She remembered the way he would kiss her mother when he returned home, sometimes bringing the kisses down her jaw and neck. That was the standard of love she had been exposed to. That was why it would be so difficult to lose Friedrich.

“We played in the yard all the time. He loved to rough house, and he loved horseplay. He was naughty, too. He would always steal sugar cubes behind our mother’s back. And he ran his estate with great enthusiasm. All he ever wanted was to provide for us.”

It was not so hard to speak about him. In fact it was nice. Anthony had always found it so hard to do so, and they had spent so long avoiding the topic, she’d forgotten it wasn’t taboo. She’d forgotten that talking was more than just reliving, it was remembering. And remembering him was so important, especially with her younger siblings never having known him. 

“I am glad to know that there was someone taking great care of you. It seems your brother has taken that role on in his absence.” He said it without malice, but with gratefulness. 

“Does Anthony not bother you?” He bothered most people.

“He’s an idiot, to be sure, but he cares about you. And he takes his role as Viscount very seriously.”

Prince Friedrich had called her brother an idiot. This might possibly be the best day of her life. 

“What about the rest of my family?” She tried to ask it in a light tone, but the answer was of grave importance to her. 

“They’re wonderful!” He said jauntily. His eyes grew wide in excitement. “They are so lively and fun. I enjoy the banter endlessly.”

He had no siblings of his own. He must have been awfully lonely in a large palace by himself. 

They were almost back to the party. She didn’t mind. She was enjoying her time there, and found herself excited to get to know the villagers. She’d met a young couple who made handmade ornaments, and was considering talking to them about a custom gift for Friedrich and his parents.

She’d also gotten a chance to properly apologize to the men who’d been raising the far wall when Anthony had had his blunder. She’d learned their names were Pierre and Henrich, and they were fathers, day laborers, and incredibly funny. They’d seemed to be pleased with what she’d said (“My brother has the brain of a squirrel but his intentions are pure,  and I pray you forgive him.”) and, placated, had invited her to play a game of pick up with them and their wives.

And best of all - she hadn’t tripped or fallen or broken a single thing the entire time she’d been there. Well, not in any important way. She’d still almost broken her neck tripping down the stairs for breakfast, and the footman from their carriage that morning had gotten stepped on quite hard when she’d lurched to the side upon her exit, but once she had a job to do, she’d been the most precise of them all.

Prussia was certainly becoming one of her favorite places. And on the arm of the man she loved, it seemed she might really have truly found the place she might call home.

Chapter Text

“You must tell me everything that has happened, and in extreme detail.”

They’d been in Prussia for four days now, and Delilah had found herself quite settled. Her daily tasks had continued - after the barn raising there had been the planning of a feast later that month with Queen Anastasia, then history lessons, and a charity ball, and that very day they’d been packing care packages for the elderly members of the villages. It had been nonstop work, and she’d enjoyed it greatly. She’d managed to find time in between tasks to talk to the couple from the barn raising and order a special set of ornaments for Friedrich’s parents. She would pick them up the morning of her last day of her trial. She hoped it would be a thoughtful final gesture before judgment was officially passed.

She got to see Friedrich at dinner, but he had spent most of the time with his own duties. At night, however, he’d visit her for an hour or two, and they’d kiss and touch and…well, mostly they talked. They talked about his childhood, and her dreams and they talked a lot of their future together, side by side. 

She’d seen a bit how animated and sweet he was back in London, but here in his home he spoke so quickly, sometimes reverting to his first language. He’d laugh and smile as he recounted the day's tasks. When she brushed her hair he’d make faces at her in the mirror, and he’d read passages from his favorite books in funny voices.

It was freeing to be able to be silly with him. She showed him Mr. Lion, and he’d laughed himself into hysterics. She even told him about her late night walks with her brothers, her first time trying alcohol, and her secret sign post in the trunk by her bed.

“You stole a street sign?” He’d cried, still wiping away tears from her previous story.

“And a night watchmen had almost caught me too, but having four brothers teaches you how to run very, very fast.”

Despite Delilah’s incredibly full schedule, she hadn’t failed to notice the ever growing relationship between a certain lady’s maid and attendant. Anita had avoided interrogation thus far by doing Delilah’s hair very quickly. She’d chatter on about anything else as she laced her corsets or changed her linens, and the conversation would be so fast-paced and one-sided that Delilah had had no hope of chiming in until the door to her room was firmly shut, and Anita was back in her own quarters. 

But tonight, Delilah had been ready.

She’d been removing her necklace at record speed, but Delilah had ensured the clasp was broken, and stuck on her neck very well. As planned, while Anita had been going on and on about the size of the kitchens and how much space she had, she paused to work on the clasp, and forgot to speak entirely.

That’s when Delilah had chosen to interject, inquiring about her budding relationship with Mr. Harrison, and now Anita stood, defeated, her hands stuck under Delilah’s hair, and a sigh leaving her lips.

“I don't want to spoil it.” she said, still struggling with the clasp. 

“How could you do that?” Delilah asked.

“I…well, if I talk about it it’s become really real, hasn’t it? And if it’s real, then it can end and I’ll be heartbroken if it does.”

She offered Anita a squeeze on her forearm. 

“I talked about Friedrich every single day in that kitchen. And look where we are now!”

Anita glanced around at the room, rolling her eyes as she acquiesced. “I suppose…”

“And you want to talk about him, don’t you?” Delilah urged. Anita was like any other maid - she loved to gossip. And this wasn’t just any gossip, it was gossip about herself.

She had finally undone the clasp, and was holding the necklace in her hands as she wrestled with what to do. For a brief moment Delilah thought maybe she’d gone too far, and had truly upset Anita. But then the older woman’s smile curved to the side, and she released a delighted sigh.

“Oh my god, Miss Delilah, if he isn’t the most romantic man I’ve ever known!”

She tossed the necklace onto the vanity and threw herself onto the bed, her face pressed into the blankets. “Hee oh ar bing….”

Delilah stood, laughing. “What was that?”

Her maid rolled over onto her back. “He’s so charming!” she cried. 

Delilah skipped over to the bed and sat, eyes wide, as she waited to hear more.

“He’s not much of a talker, but when he does he’s always sayin’ I’m pretty or I’m smart. He asks me things, too, like he asked me about London and if I’d had many gentleman friends there. He sounded jealous! Ha! I’ve never had a man be jealous of me being with other men. Most of the men I been with were seeing three other girls at the same time.”

Delilah recalled her sailor friend, the one who had paid her, and she was very glad indeed that Anita was no longer subject to the dishonorable men who she’d been with in the past. Prussia apparently had the finest quality of men around.

“So you like him?” She asked.

“Like him? Oh, Misses, I…I mean to say that I like him very much.” She blushed tomato red and twirled an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She looked ten years younger than she was, like a girl with a crush. Love suited Anita very well. Delilah had never seen her so happy.

“And he likes you?”

“I think so. I mean, he’s always talkin’ to me and complimenting me…but I don’t know…”

She grew very withdrawn. 

Delilah snaked her hands into Anita’s, holding them firmly. “I know he does. He looks at you quite fondly.”

She perked up at that. “D’ya think so?”

Delilah nodded. “Absolutely.”

It was strange to think that she and Anita had known each other most of Delilah’s life, and yet only here did they feel truly free to speak. At Bridgerton house it seemed there were always prying ears, or people bustling about. Even in the kitchens there were secrets they dare not share in front of the other ladies. 

“I think maybe….” Anita started, her eyes darting back and forth as she let her thoughts form.  “I think maybe he could be…”

“The one?” Delilah supplied.

Anita guffawed and stood up, her hands going straight to her hips. “Oh I’ve never felt like this before!”

“Dizzy? Excited? Questioning every glance like you’re solving a maths problem?”

Anita nodded vigorously. “Yes exactly! Is this how it was with your prince?”

Delilah nodded fondly. “Yes, very much so. I still feel that way sometimes, if I’m honest. Being with him it…makes me stronger. More confident.”

“I saw it on you the moment you started courting. You were always so anxious before, but once you and he got together it was like you weren’t scared of nothing.”

Her mother had told her so many times how her love with Edmund had been. She’d said he had filled the spaces inside herself she didn’t even know were empty. That was how she felt now.

“Anita, I’m so pleased for you. I hope you know that. I was so scared you wouldn’t like it here.”

She waved a hand dismissively and leaned against the bedpost. “Please, I’m tougher stock than that. But this has been a marvelous change, truly.”

Delilah looked up at her maid and felt the same joy in her heart that she did when Daphne told her something thrilling, or when Benedict did something cheeky. The Bridgerton siblings may have numbered nine, but in that moment, it felt more like ten.

“What do you think?”

Delilah stood surveying the dirt in Tunich. She was crouched low to the ground, her brows knit together. It was as she expected - the soil here was quite damp. Much different to the dry soil of Farevale.

The question had been asked by Queen Anastasia, who was accompanying her on the trip. Anthony was not too far off, scowling. He seemed to be doing that more and more lately. 

They were six days into their Prussia trip now, and the happier she seemed to become, the more displeased he was. It made her stomach churn with anxiety to know that her brother was not happy, especially because of something she had gotten him into.

“As I suspected.” She said, moving to a standing position.

“Can anything be done?” The Queen asked, looking concerned. 

“Pehaps some sort of irrigation system. If we could find a way to funnel the rain down, the soil in Farevale could grow wetter. I’m not an expert, though.” She knew about plants, but science was not her best subject.

“Well perhaps we can provide you the resources to find out.”

Delilah stiffened. “You…you want me to be in charge of this?”

Anastasia laughed. “Of course. It’s beyond my understanding, and the King and the Prince stay quite busy. It’s exactly the sort of task we’d like to hand off to our Princess.”

Delilah knew this to be more than just a simple task. This was a test, like all the others that had been set before her. But this one seemed to be far more important than any other. 

“I would be honored,” she squealed, unable to contain her excitement. 

“Excellent. I have the utmost faith in you.”

So far the Queen had been exceptionally kind. Delilah imagined what it would be like to have her as a secondary mother figure, to work alongside her day by day. She was very polished, but not overly so. She was perhaps the most polished of the three members of her family, having grown up in Mayfair. But she was a common woman at her heart, and she’d had no issue being honest and open with Delilah thus far.

Yes, working with the Queen seemed like a most exciting endeavor indeed.

Anthony launched himself off the tree he’d been perched against as they made their way back over to him. Delilah filled him in on the developments while they made their way back to their carriage, her words flying out of her mouth in a rush. 

Anthony gave her a curious look. 

“Well I can’t say it’s something I’ve ever seen done” he offered  “but you seem quite pleased.”

“Of course I am! She’s testing me properly. If I can do this, it will be a big step in winning their favor.”

He scowled harder. Anthony had not made much headway in his endeavors thus far. He was excellent at bookkeeping, a task that they had given him to take off of the Prince’s plate during his stay. He was not so excellent at conversation, constantly saying things the wrong way, or unable to put his manners aside. 

He was floundering, and it made Delilah very nervous.

“Perhaps we can take it on together?” She suggested it casually. She didn’t want him to think she was scheming, but she needed to find a way to improve his standing. 

He immediately shook his head. “I will stick with bookkeeping.”

Why had the Lord blessed her with such pig-headed brothers?

“Anthony, please.” She placed a gloved hand on his forearm. “We could undo all of your blunders so far if you would just trust me. Let me take the lead for once.”

Anthony was a man who was hard to read. He didn’t give anything away in the face. Delilah knew from years of experience that with Anthony, the truth was in his eyes. 

His eyes were unsettled, and moving side to side. He was considering her proposal as keenly as he could. 

“Alright…” he conceded, though his voice still held an air of uncertainty. 

The library at the palace was something of a beast. 

The bookshelves were floor to ceiling, all in a chestnut colored pine. Several couches sat in the center of the room, with antique end tables holding beautifully crafted stained glass lamps. Delilah wished Eloise could see it - she’d surely spend an entire week curled up in there, reading book after book with a content smile on her face.

Delilah enjoyed reading fine, but she was not a bookworm by any definition. Anthony was even less so, more interested in ledgers and financial reports. She suspected he didn’t enjoy fiction. He was too practical a man for it to bring him comfort.

“What am I meant to be looking for exactly?” Her brother called from the opposite end of the room. She was scanning one of the bookshelves, her finger pointed outward to keep her place. 

“Anything about soil, crops, or irrigation.”

“Anything?” he asked, incredulous. “Surely it can’t be that broad.”

She tapped her foot impatiently. “The subject will not be broad once we read about it. One must start somewhere, yes?”

She ignored his answering grumble - it sounded suspiciously like ‘I’d like to start by strangling you’, but he said it too quietly for her to be sure.

They were on day eight in Prussia now. Despite her tasks changing rapidly from day to day, it seemed that time was rushing by more quickly with each new day. 

Breakfast shifted to lunch and lunch shifted to dinner in a mindless blur. Her nights with Friedrich seemed to end only moments after they’d begun. 

She’d been granted the day to do research on her special project, and it was the first moment she felt like she had time to really breathe. She was free to research as much as she saw fit, so long as she was finished by the end of the day. Tomorrow she’d be back to charity work and party planning.

Delilah gathered a stack of books into her arms and tossed them on one of the couches. It seemed smart to start with the book titled Gardening For the Advanced Pupil since she already had a basic understanding of how soil and greenery worked. 

As she began to read, Anthony came over with a smaller stack of his own. He sat on the couch opposite and settled into his book, Water Systems of the Eastern Hemisphere.

For an hour, they read. And it was actually quite nice. When he wasn’t complaining, Anthony was a decent companion. He occasionally had something interesting to say about a passage, and would show it to her, describing his thoughts in exact detail. She would become excited at his words and add her own thoughts, making him rub his chin in thought. 

She, too, would interrupt to show him something particularly funny or engaging, and she’d make him laugh. It was her job, after all. 

She was just finishing a chapter on weeding when Anthony shouted her name. 

“Lila, by god, I think I’ve actually found something!”

He sounded terribly excited, and that made her excited too. He was happy, and she hoped to keep him that way. 

“Look - this passage here!” He handed her the book, his finger pointing to the beginning of a paragraph. 

The practice of irrigation in moderate climates can be tricky, but there is a method that can be beneficial if utilized properly. Dripping the water slowly onto the soil is the best way to keep it appropriately moist. Therefore, catching the rain in buckets and allowing a system of rubber tubes through the dirt will keep it quite damp, but not overly so. See diagram three for a visual example.

“Well, brother, I dare say we have some supplies to get!” 

He smiled widely at her, throwing himself off the couch. “Let’s get to work!”

Harrison ordered the supplies for them. They would take a few days to arrive, and in the meantime, Anthony and Delilah spoke excitedly about their project. It seemed that somewhere between the visit to Tunich, and their time in the library, Anthony had finally found himself amiable. At dinner on their ninth night, he laughed so loud that water came gushing out his nose, and didn’t even act embarrassed. During a meeting with a representative from Oaken, one of the villages further out from the palace, he gave the man an informal pat on the back, which delighted him. Their eleventh day he chatted with Friedrich about the type of brandy he liked, and asked questions about his childhood. 

The King and Queen, who had aggressively interrogated Anthony at any given moment, began to ease up. They joked with him. They made efforts to get to know him. 

Things seemed to be on the up and up, and Delilah found herself feeling…confident. 

She had been right about the irrigation project bringing them favor. On their twelfth day, surrounded by the villagers from Farevale and the royal family, she and Anthony presented their system. They’d spent the entire morning building it together, and Anthony chatted with her easily about what he intended to do upon his return to London. 

“I’m going to visit Daphne and Simon, I think. Check in on her.”

Delilah affixed one of the tubes to one of the buckets. Anthony had cut holes in the bottom with a small saw, measured precisely with a tailor’s measuring tape.

“That sounds wonderful! Give her my love, if you would.”

“Certainly.” he said, using a garden hoe to add a long, thin line in the dirt. 

As Delilah laid the tubing inside the small trench he had created, Anthony fiddled restlessly with his signet ring. She tossed him a questioning look.

He stopped his fiddling and leveled her with a look she couldn’t quite place. “Do you think…I mean to say…if your marriage gets approved, will you stay here? Or will you go back first?”

Delilah admittedly hadn’t thought much about the logistics. Now that she was, the idea of her staying in Prussia and not saying goodbye to her family made her chest ache. 

“I don’t much like the idea of not saying goodbye.” 

Anthony nodded. “I was thinking perhaps the entire family could come and stay for a week, and be present at the wedding. I assume it would happen here.”

Delilah thought of Gregory and Hyacinth playing in the garden, and her vision of Eloise in the library. She wanted that so badly.

“Really? Would you all come?”

Anthony smiled and scrunched his nose. “You’d be living so far…how could we not come?”

They let their affection pass silently between them. This was the Anthony she had missed. This was the Anthony from before their father’s death, the one that carried her on his shoulders and sang songs as they marched through the woods surrounding Aubrey Hall. He had always been in there - he just had trouble letting him out sometimes.

“Well, I think we’ve finished.” She called as she surveyed their work. 

There were dozens of lines in the ground. There was a bucket for every two, and attached to each bucket were rubber tubes, running through the indents in the dirt. The tubes had small holes that would drip the water into the soil rather than letting it all in at once. This would keep the soil moist and for longer. 

Once the royal family and the villagers had gathered around, and she’d explained how the system worked, she pulled Anthony to her side. 

“And none of this would have been possible without my brother, who discovered the theory, and helped set everything up for me.”

His cheeks went pink. Was he embarrassed? She didn’t think she could remember ever seeing him that way. 

“Marvelous!” King Gunther cried, coming forward and bringing them both in for a hug. The Bridgerton siblings were used to this behavior by now, and they embraced him fondly.

“This is most splendid. Really. I had my doubts about you” he said to Anthony alone. “But you and your sister are truly marvelous.”

“Excellent work.” came Queen Anastasia’s dulcet voice. “Truly, you’ve not only been wonderful guests, but you’ve helped us grow as a community.”

Delilah could not contain the feeling of joy bubbling over inside of her. It had been a rocky start, but it seemed that Delilah had maybe, actually done it. 

Friedrich gave her a kiss on the hand. “My fiancee, the scientist.” he joked.

“Scientist, princess…it’s no big deal.” 

His answering grin was magnificent.

Best of all, Anita and Harrison had progressed their relationship. That night, shortly before Friedrich was set to have their nightly time together, Anita had come to get her ready for bed and was practically falling all over herself. 

“Oh Miss Delilah! Oh my days!”

Delilah placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders to pause her incessant bouncing. “Anita, what has happened?”

“He kissed me!” She cried. “We were walking in the gardens while you were all away, and he kissed me!”

They had spent the better part of ten minutes shrieking like schoolgirls.

Day thirteen in Prussia was set to be the most stressful out of all of them, because day thirteen was their final day. The following day, Delilah would find out if she had done enough to earn her right to marry the Prince. 

Her tasks had ceased, and she spent most of her day wandering around the palace. She felt good about her chances, and wasn’t worried she had not earned favor. She’d been so busy, though, with all her tasks that she hadn’t had much of a chance to just...explore. 

She spent an hour in the library again, gathering a pile of books to read when she had time. Most were about nature, but some were works of fiction. She even pulled a few options for her siblings to read during their stay whenever she was to be married. 

Whenever. Her confidence was overwhelming.

She studied the rooms on the third floor, which were more practical rooms used for school lessons and planning. She had only been in one of them before with Queen Anastasia, planning an end of month feast. Now she twirled about several different studies and parlors, marveling at how different they all were. Some were done in demure colors, and neutrals. Others were bright and colorful, like the houses of the ton. All of them were radiant. 

There was a small side hallway on the second floor she had yet to explore. She assumed it would be full of more bedrooms, as most of the second floor was. 

She turned the corner into the hallway and knocked on the first door, just in case it was being used. When there was no answer, she pushed the door open, and her eyes settled on something that gave her pause. 

A cradle. 

This was a nursery. And if she really had achieved her goal of becoming princess, then that meant this would be her child’s nursery.

She tried not to let that weigh too heavily on her mind.

 Despite its lack of structure, her final day passed in much of the same blur as the others. She was both grateful and terrified once she realized dinner was over, and they were all heading to their bedchambers. Grateful because it was over, and she could finally get the answer she’d been waiting for. Terrified because she did not want her time there to end. 

“Miss Bridgerton, it has been an honor to host you.” King Gunther said, bowing. 

“The honor has truly been mine. I found myself falling in love with your country and your home quite as easily as I fell in love with your son.”

Gunther beamed with pride at her statement. The Queen put her hand in Delilah’s. “We feel very much the same about you, my dear. We will pass official judgment in the morning, but I daresay that you are quite the revelation. We couldn’t be happier for our son.”

Delilah fought the tears in her eyes valiantly, but they came anyway. “It is so wonderful to hear that. I eagerly await your counsel in the morning.”

King Gunther kissed her hand. “We are thrilled. We shall see you very soon.”

As per usual, Friedrich escorted her to her bedroom, Anthony keeping vigil. 

“Miss Bridgerton, I cannot wait for the day I may call you Princess Delilah.”

“Soon. Very, very soon.”

After Friedrich took his leave, Anthony hovered. He had been agreeable earlier, but he looked troubled now. 

“Are you alright?” Delilah asked. 

“I…I think perhaps I’m not feeling terribly well.”

“Are you sick?” she asked, bringing her hand to his forehead. He grabbed her wrist and threw it off. 

“No, just..tired. Overly so. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

She nodded, but wasn’t convinced. “Well sleep will help. Go ahead to bed. You have a lot of travel ahead of you.”

He looked very far off. He was standing next to her, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away.  “Yes, well, good night.” 

He turned and stalked off, and Delilah hoped he wasn’t truly sick. Traveling under the weather was not good for the constitution at all.

Anita didn’t arrive to help her out of her dress and jewelry, but she had been spotty in her duties the last few nights. Delilah didn’t mind if it meant she was spending time with Harrison. She could take a dress off just fine. 

Friedrich had informed her earlier in the day that his attendant was sick and that his bedroom could not be entered that night, but since he was sure they’d have the marriage approved, they could skip their nightly time together, just this once. They’d have a lifetime of nights together.

Absently Delilah wondered if whatever sickness was plaguing the prince’s attendant is what was plaguing Anthony. Perhaps there was a bug going around. 

Nerves kept Delilah awake for most of the night. Between her anxiety and excitement at finding out the result of her trial, and worrying about Anthony once again, her mind was constantly churning. She was restless in her bed.

It had been a long time since she’d had a nighttime walk, but that felt like exactly what she might need. She wouldn’t get Anthony since he was sick, but maybe she’d try and find the brandy. 

Her footsteps echoed across the marble floors. The house was so quiet, even her breath seemed to make too much noise. It was eerie seeing everything in the dark. It was as if she was in a completely different home than the one she knew, one lined with shadows and dark corners. 

The dining room came into view easily. The large archway revealed the gorgeous chandelier, its light still burning. The candles put themselves out. Attendants simply replaced them in the morning. 

She would find the brandy in the dining room and then head out to the gardens for a spell. Being outside was always invigorating, and never more so than at night. There was something about it that spoke to the restless soul. Being so alive in so much stillness made you remember how big and how small you were all at the same time.

A sound like someone clearing their throat stopped Delilah in her tracks. She whirled her head around, not able to see anyone. The sound came again, and she realized it was a sniffle. Someone was crying in the vestibule.

“Hello?” she said in a stage whisper. 

“What are you doing up?”

It was Anthony’s voice. He was rising from his position on the ground. He had been sitting against the wall of the stairs and his eyes were wet from crying.

“Anthony? What is going on?” She rushed to him but he side stepped her, so their positions were now reversed.

“I’m fine, I just needed some air.” 

He was holding something in his right hand. She couldn’t tell what it was, but she didn’t care. Her brother was crying in the middle of the night, and that took precedent.

“Anthony, you don’t look fine. You look like you’ve gone through something terrible.”

Indeed, his eyes were rimmed red. She could see them better in his new position. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was disheveled from too many passes of his hand. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Go back to bed.” 

“No.” she said, her arms folding. “Anthony, please. You have been there for me in all of my times of need. Let me be there for you too.” 

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. She could see his jaw ticking the way it always did when he was angry. 

“You would not understand!” he spat. 

She scoffed. “I will be the judge of what I can and cannot understand, brother.”

He blew out a breath. He ran the hand not holding something through his already tousled hair. He was like an animal in a cage, ready to pounce in a moment’s notice.

“I am the eldest. I have responsibilities that you would not be able to fully grasp.”

“I would be able to grasp more if you spoke about it. Anthony, you keep everything bottled up. Last week, I talked about father and I realized that I hadn’t talked about him in nearly four years. You never bring him up. I know his death was hard for you, but you are not the only one who suffered. Just maybe the one who suffered the most.”

She hated to see Anthony cry. It was her job to make him happy. It had been that way for eleven years. Watching his tears fall down his cheeks, the only light coming from a dying torch on the wall, she thought he looked the least like Anthony he ever had. He was someone else, someone she’d never met before. 

“I cannot be him.” he said, shaking his head. “I can try every single day for the rest of my life, and I will never come close. I can’t talk about him. If I do, I will only be reminded of what I am not.”

Delilah wanted to slap him and hug him all at the same time. 

“Anthony, you are not required to be anyone but Anthony. No one expects you to be father. In fact, no one wants you to.”

“I want to!” he cried, his voice echoing through the halls. His right hand came up and Delilah noticed the thing in his hand - it was a watch. Their father’s watch. 

“You have put too much pressure on yourself.” She approached him slowly, her arms up as if she was taming a wild horse. 

“Everyone else expected everything of me. Perhaps not you, but the physicians. The butcher. The banks. The second father died, I was the one calling the shots. I was the one being pestered and barked at. I have not had a chance to breathe. I just want to breathe!”

He was truly emotional now, practically on the verge of hysterics. He was having some sort of panic attack. 

“Anthony, you can breathe. Please, take a deep breath in with me. In through your nose.”

He wasn’t listening. He was clutching at his chest, his breath coming in shallow pants. She tried to get closer but he threw himself back, creating more distance between them. 

“And you and Daphne, you… you found love. You found freedom. I can never…”

Delilah could only watch as he built himself into a delirious frenzy. 

“Even if I find a wife, I will not be free. I will never…I will never be free of this!”

He tossed their father’s watch with great force past Delilah’s shoulder and into the dining room. 

She reached out and grabbed his wrist, still extended from his throw, with the intention of telling him to calm down. 

Her words died on her tongue. 

There was a thunderous crash from the dining room. The sound of glass shattering filled their ears. The ground shook with the force of it, and Delilah had to steady herself on her brother’s shoulder.

There was a long stretch of silence, and then she was running through the dining room’s open doorway. What she saw made her hand fly up to cover her mouth.

The chandelier was no longer attached to the ceiling. It lay in a great heap atop the dining table, which had split down the middle. Shards of glass were sprinkled across the carpet like tiny drops of water, and there was a horrible crunch with every step she took further in.

Without the blinding light, the room was cast in darkness. The only light there was to see by was cast by the moon. 

Anthony had been right behind her and he cursed loudly at the sight. 

“Oh god.” He said, walking in a half circle around the edge of the room. “Oh my god.” His fevered state disappeared as easily as it had come. He felt only shock.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, several pairs of feet running in their direction. A few maids got there first, their expressions horrified.

It didn’t take long for the royal family to appear. Friedrich rushed to her side before he was able to realize what had happened. His eyes were on her, as they always were, until they had slid away and took stock of the mess before him. 

Tears welled in his eyes. The heartbreak was too much for Delilah to take.

“What is happened!” Cried the King, his wife only a few steps behind.

He too paused at the sight of the chandelier destroyed. This had been the last piece he had left of his brother. It was Friedrich’s last link to him too. And it had been decimated in one fell swoop.

“Who is responsible!” He cried, taking his son in his arms. Friedrich barely registered the touch. He was reaching down for the larger pieces of glass, as if he could somehow reform them. It was like looking in a mirror at herself, reaching down to try to fix something she had broken in her clumsiness. 

The King’s rage was palpable. His eyes were dark as he scanned the room, finding only Delilah and Anthony. 

“Which one of you did this?” He asked.

If Anthony angered a king, he could lose everything. He could lose his title, his status…if Anthony fell, the family fell with him.

“It was me.” Delilah said pathetically. 

“No, Lila-“

“Anthony please.” She said in a scathing voice she’d never heard from herself before. “Don’t lie for me.”

He looked as if he might make good on his threat to strangle her.

King Gunther approached her slowly. Glass crunched under his feet with every step. Friedrich hadn’t looked away from the mess.

“We invite you to our home. We give you our food, our money, our people…and you repay us this way?”

Delilah couldn’t look away, she was pinned in place by the power of his fury. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what she could say. Last time she’d tried to explain herself she’d only made things worse. So she stayed quiet.

“How could this happen? No accident did this, so you tell me! Tell me how you destroyed my brother’s legacy!”

“Gunther!” Anastasia cried. Her eyes held sympathy for Delilah. “Gunther please, I’m sure she feels bad enough.”

He shook his head. “She should feel what I feel. But she never knowing Louis. She cannot know.”

Anastasia put her hands on his face to calm him. “I know. I know.”

Friedrich finally stood. His shoulders were stiff, and his eyes downcast. His face was cast in shadows, but his eyes had caught the moonlight, and they held no love for her. They held only grief.

“We will make arrangements for you to leave early in the morning.”

That was all he said. That was all he needed to say.

“I am sorry.” Delilah said to Freidrich’s back. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t say it.”

She grabbed Anthony’s hand and tugged him out of the room, and all the way up the steps.

They didn’t speak until they were safely inside Anthony’s bedchambers.

“Why did you take the fall?” He demanded. “What possessed you to do something that stupid? You hate to lie!”

“Well I seem to have gotten rather good at it, no?”

He jerked back as violently as if she’d struck him. “I did not ask you to do that.”

She threw her hands up wildly in frustration. “And yet it had to be done.”

“Tell me.” He insisted, his eyes pleading. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I am Delilah Bridgerton. Because I am not Viscount Bridgerton or Duchess of Hastings. I am not an artist, or a traveler or anything of note. I am just Delilah. And I am known to be clumsy. And If you had taken the fall, he could have ruined you if he wanted to. He could strip you of your title, Anthony. That would not just ruin you, it would ruin all of us.”

“But your marriage -“

“Is not as important to me as my family.”

All this time she had been comparing herself to Daphne, when instead she should have been comparing herself to him.

He was her true other half, because he was her opposite. He was brash and stubborn and could not stand to lose. 

He was the moonlight that had shone across the glass there on the dining room floor.

She was the bright, twinkling light of the chandelier, and she was ruined. 

It didn’t matter how much Friedrich loved her. All he would ever see was the girl who destroyed his most precious family heirloom. She didn’t think they could ever recover.

“This is all my fault.” he sighed.

 “Yes. Yes it is.” There was no point in disagreeing.

He shook his head wildly from side to side. “I cannot allow this to happen. I will fix this.”

“There is no way to. The chandelier is destroyed. Even if you bought another one, that chandelier was special.”

“There has to be something. I will speak with the King, let him know it was me.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Delilah cried. “How many times do I have to say it. They were testing my family just as much as they were testing me. Either way, we lose here!”

She felt like she was screaming, so she stopped and put a hand on her head. She was developing a headache from all of this, and she just wanted to go to sleep.

He had been so miserable, so unhappy, so unwilling….and she had spent the entire trip making up for his mistakes. It was infuriating that he could not put aside his own petty grievances for her, and still she covered for him. 

“I need to go to sleep. We’ll have to wake early to pack.”

“Delilah, I will fix this.”

She couldn’t stand his voice anymore. Couldn’t even stand to look at him.

“Alright. I’m going to bed.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Please, Lila.”

She leveled him with a deadly glare. “Listen to me, and listen to me well. You have officially just ruined my one chance at true love. And I forgive you. Because you are my brother I forgive you. But when we return to London, just know that I do not want to speak to you. Or see you. Or be near you. Because this hurts. You hurt me. And unless you can find a way to fix the chandelier, and fix the damage done to my relationship with Friedrich…you cannot fix that.”

She left the room swiftly, refusing to look back and see the damage she’d caused.

Chapter Text

Anthony Bridgerton was many things.

He was, as chronicled by Whistledown and by the gossiping ton, a rake. He took his pleasures whenever he saw fit, and paid for them handsomely. He did not desire a wife, for love was something he found to be a nuisance.

He was a brother, eight times over. He had done his very best to look after all his younger siblings. That was his burden as the eldest, and that was something he took great pride in.

He was also, as he came to discover during his time in Prussia, a bit of a fool.

He’d always been quick to temper, but more so after the death of his father. Losing him would always be the greatest loss he’d ever know. He was a pathetic replacement for Edmund, if he was being honest. He was too easily upset, and too disciplined to properly manage his untamed siblings. 

Ironically, the only sibling he’d never had to manage was Delilah. Even with her impertinence, and her wild streak, and her open-ended ideas about community and society, she’d never truly needed his heavy hand. She made a life for herself in the kitchens and in the garden. She’d formed opinions all on her own through her studies. And even when Anthony thought she would actually, possibly need him for once, in a foreign country and staying in the home of a King, she’d been perfectly suited to being a Princess. 

He’d been the one unprepared. He’d been the clumsy one. 

Never in his life had that word ever applied to him, but it was the most fitting way to describe things. 

His pride had been his downfall. And when one Bridgerton falls, there is little that can stop the other Bridgertons from tumbling down after them. Bridgertons were loyal to a fault.

Delilah had ruined everything that she held dear to protect the entire family. 

She was the sun, and he was the moon. 

And he was determined that she would shine again. 

The King had ordered no one to touch the chandelier. Anthony had run downstairs to seek counsel with him, but he was still so upset. He'd take one look at the glint in Gunther's eyes and hastened back up the steps, fearful of destroying any chance of reconciliation.  He'd entered his room, but he did not sleep.

He paced back and forth inside his chambers, wearing a path in the rug. 

He wasn’t used to being deficient in any way. He was always perfect and well mannered and exceptionally proper. All of those traits seemed to mean nothing here. 

If there was any hope salvaging his sisters’ marriage, the answer would not lie with him. He was too much a gentleman to thrive outside of polite society. 

No, the answer lied with Delilah. Were the roles reversed, what would his favorite sister do?

She would tell the truth.

Honesty did seem to be her policy, but she had made a fair point earlier. Even if Anthony revealed his part in the destruction, it would not be enough to repair everything. 

For hours it seemed, he paced the room.

He thought about all the times they’d gotten iced cream, or she’d done Mr. Lion, or when she’d sarcastically revealed exactly what he was doing wrong. His sister was resilient. The most resilient Bridgerton of all, he thought. That resilience had taken her all the way to a new country, simply because she shared similar values to the people here.

Anthony’s head shot up. That was it, that had to be it. 

There was no easy out here. This was not London. Anthony could not throw money or influence at his problems.

The only way out was through the one thing Delilah valued as much as her family: good, hard work.

His feet led him back to the dining room before his brain could register. It was now the middle of the night, and everyone was in bed. 

The chandelier lay exactly as it had been left. The maids had not even swept up a single shard of glass. 

Anthony removed his jacket, and he got to work.

Delilah had not wanted to remove herself from bed. 

She had to, though. She had to pack. 

She’d made it thirteen out of fourteen days in Prussia. Considering how she’d felt going in, it was a pretty substantial achievement. 

Anita had come to help her with her bags not long after she’d woken up. Harrison must have informed her of what had happened, because she hadn’t asked any questions, just began folding up her clothes and placing them into a trunk without anything more than a gentle kiss to Delilah’s forehead. 

Guilt sat hot and heavy in her gut. Her loss was not just her own, it was Anita’s loss as well. They’d both be losing their great loves, except Anita had done nothing wrong. 

“I’ll go talk to them about the arrangements for our departure.” Anita called, before heading for the door.

Delilah stopped her.

“You must stay.” Delilah said.

Anita gave her a strange look.  “I cannot.”

She squared her shoulders, daring Delilah to say more. Delilah was not someone who backed down in the face of such a challenge. 

“You have done nothing wrong. You deserve to get your happy ending.”

The older woman faltered, but steeled herself. “I am happy with you, Miss.”

“You are also happy with him. And I cannot stand in the way of that kind of love. If I can’t have it, then you must.”

She was pleading silently with her. But Anita shook her head.

“I have been with you for most of your life.” She paused, her voice thick with emotion. Delilah feared she may break out into sobs, but then she continued.

“I started taking care of you when I was still a child myself. I know that we have always strayed very far from what is right and proper,  but what I’m about to say is something that, in any other household, would probably have me out on the streets.

And you can toss me out if you want to, but it’s got to be said. You, Miss Bridgerton, are my family. You’re like a sister to me. And I’ll be good and dead before I ever stopped being your maid.”

Tears had come to Delilah’s eyes so suddenly, she didn’t even registered that she was crying until she tasted the salt on her lips. 

She crossed the distance between them very quickly and threw her arms around Anita in a bear of a hug. Anita’s arms had come around her just as tight. 

“You’re my family, too.” Delilah said.

“Aw, hell, don’t make me cry any more!” She yelled, and they laughed. 

A shout from downstairs caught their attention. The women parted and gave each other curious looks. It was still early, though maybe the Royal family had called for a carriage right at dawn to expedite her leaving.

Overlapping voices could be heard now, too, as if there was a party in the vestibule. That was very curious, indeed.

“What’s all that?” Anita asked as they exited the suite and wove through the halls, the voices rising with every step they took.

They hurried over to the balcony overlooking the vestibule. Dozens of people were walking through the palace. Lots of them were carrying pieces of wood and tools. Some had food in baskets, or on trays, offering it to the workers. Delilah recognized some of the faces from her excursions into the villages. 

These were villagers from Farevale, Tunich and Oaken. 

She saw Pierre and Henrich arguing in the corner. The couple who made the ornaments were there too, with several crates. The woman Delilah had gotten her orders from at the barn raising was yelling out the front door, calling for something.

And was that…?

No, it couldn’t be.

It was!

Anthony bloody Bridgerton.

He was directing a few men into the dining room. His jacket was gone, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept. But his eyes were alive, and he was…smiling?

“Right over here!” He was saying to the couple with the ornaments. He directed them inside the dining room and she watched as the three of them disappeared.

“Blimey, I think Anthony’s gone stark raving.”

Anita threw her hand over her mouth when she realized she’d addressed him informally, but Delilah had barely noticed.

She was too busy staring.

“Miss Bridgerton!” Called Pierre, as she began to descend the stairs. 

“Pierre, what is this?” She asked, incredulous.

“That squirrel-brained brother of yours told us what happened last night.” Said Henrich. 

“We came to help.” Pierre offered.

“Help?” She asked, still confused. “But how?”

Henrich gave her a sage smile. “There are some problems that can only be fixed by surrounding yourself with the people who care about you.”

She didn’t understand, but clearly he was keeping whatever it was that he was meant to be doing a secret.

She turned wildly about the vestibule, not sure what to make of it all. Anita was shaking her head, having just joined her. This was madness, and chaos, and-

“What is the meaning of this?”

King Gunther was coming down the steps, his wife and son at his heels. To his credit, he hadn’t asked with any anger or malice. He looked just as bewildered as Delilah felt.

“You did this?” He asked Delilah, as he made his way down the steps. 

She shook her head. “I swear, I was coming downstairs to find out when the carriage was coming so I may leave.”

She tried desperately not to look at Friedrich as he surveyed the crowd of people, but she failed. She locked eyes with him, and before she could even read him she was looking away, ashamed. 

“Excuse me!” The Queen said to passing woman. “What’s going on?”

The woman shrugged. “You’ll see.”

At that moment, Anthony emerged from the dining room, and seeing everyone together he clapped his hands excitedly.

“You’ve all come at the perfect time! We’re just finishing up.” 

He was jittery and his hair was wild. He looked like some sort of mad scientist, about to reveal his latest project.

“What have you to be doing in the dining room?!” The King asked, his agitation evident. “What did you do to chandelier?”

Anthony bowed his head in apology. 

“King Gunther, you must know…my sister is not the one who broke your chandelier. I am.”

Gunther’s eyes just about popped out of their sockets. “You?!”

“Anthony!” Delilah hissed. He ignored her.

“Yes. And I am sorry… I’m sorry to you both.” Helen turned to Friedrich on the last part, and Delilah gave him a longer look. He looked very somber, but oh so beautiful. She wished she could reach for him.

“I cannot undo the damage that has already been done, but what I can do is try to fix what I can. So if you’ll follow me into the dining room, I’d like to show you what the villagers and I have been doing for the past few hours.”

In a daze, their little group followed Anthony over to the doorway of the main dining room. She let the Royal Family go in first, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Whatever Anthony had done, she prayed that he didn’t make it any worse.

Once she crossed the threshold, her breath caught in her throat.

The chandelier was no longer lying in a sad heap on the ground. The dining table had been removed and a large group of men were near the back of the room, constructing a new table. That was where the lumber seemed to be going, with stacks of it sitting by the fireplace.

The chandelier was lying on its side. The middle and the bottom tier had been removed, but the largest tier - the top- remained. It appeared that none of the shards in the top tier had been affected.

But it was what the couple with the ornaments were doing that really shocked her.

Where the glass shards had hung, the couple was now placing hundreds of hand painted ornaments.

The same ornaments, Delilah realized dizzily, she had purchased as a farewell gift for Friedrich’s parents.

She had asked for them to be painted with memories of Louis. Many of the villagers had known him, the couple included, and they had offered their own memories of him. 

But there were so many more than just the ten Delilah had ordered. There were hundreds of them, each with different designs and colors. The light shone through them like stained glass, casting rainbows across the room. The dining room, while always awash in a warm glow, was now full of color. 

“The bottom sections of the chandelier were damaged too greatly.” Anthony explained. “But the top section is entirely in tact. Delilah had the brilliant idea to purchase ornaments painted with memories of Louis on them for you all to have something more to remember him. I took those ornaments, and I had all the other villagers make ornaments of their own favorite memories of him. I thought that it would be a nice compromise…to have a little bit of his craftsmanship, and a little bit of his legacy…all combined into one.”

Delilah was so overcome by Anthony’s gesture she felt she couldn’t breathe. He had actually fixed it. He hadn’t restored it, that would be impossible. But he’d taken a horrible situation and turned it entirely on its head. 

There was a sniffling sound, and Delilah saw that King Gunther was crying.

It seemed the Queen was also crying, and Friedrich as well. The entire family was staring at this monumental effigy and grieving all over again.

“It’s beautiful.” Friedrich said. “It’s…perfect.”

His father gave him a wet kiss on his temple. “Louis would have been so happy. All the people of the town, making something with their own hands together. That was his legacy.”

The Queen brought her son and her husband into her arms for a hug, and they all held onto each other for a little while.

While the royal family had their moment, Anthony came to stand next to his sister.

“I want to apologize to you.” He said. 

“You do?” 

“Yes. I….have spent my whole life managing everyone in this family…everyone except for you. And I thought, foolishly, that this would be my one chance to show you how much you needed me. And as it turns out, I think I’m the one who needed you.”

She gave him a blinding smile. “Anthony…of course I need you. I will always need my big brother. Whyever  would you think I wouldn’t?”

He shrugged. “You seem to have everything well in hand these days.”

She shoved him. “And I only do because you got me here. Without your love and support, I’d still be in London tripping on carpets.”

“Plenty of carpets here in Prussia.” He said quickly.

“I thought this was meant to be an apology.” She quirked a brow.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said. “I should have never lashed out like that. And I should have been more open….i knew that this was important to you and I let my pride get in the way. But you taught me that hard work merits high reward. So I had to do whatever I could to make this right.”

She was so in awe of him in this moment. Even though he was the oldest, it felt terribly like he’d suddenly grown up. He was truly Viscount Bridgerton now.

“And I understand if you are still angry with me. And if you wish to not speak to me ever again, that is…ok.” He nodded at her, but then his expression shifted. “Actually it is not ok because I don’t think I could possibly survive very long if you did not speak to me…but I mean to say I would understand.”

“Honesty, hard work….what’s next? A trip into The Serpentine?”

He scoffed. “As if I’d ever fall into a lake.”

“You’d be surprised.” She added, smirking. “And I’m sorry that I got so angry last night…I mean I didn’t expect you to actually fix the chandelier! It’s a beautiful gesture, Anthony. And I could never ice you out. You and I….were the same. Two halves of a whole.”

“Isn’t that you and Daphne?” He asked.

“No, I don’t actually think it is.”

They shared a smile - that Bridgerton half smile that belonged to their father Edmund - and embraced. 

“Lord Bridgerton!” Called the King, and she and Anthony froze in place.

He gave her a look that said “should I go over there?”

She gave him a look that said “I think you have to.”

He gave her a look that said “I’m fast enough to make a run for it”

She gave him a look that said “coward”

He turned toward the King. “Your Highness?”

King Gunther gave him a long, appraising stare. “I had my doubts about you.” He wagged his finger at Anthony, and his stare morphed into a grin.

“But this….you have taken your mistake and you have gathered the community together to help fix it. And you honor my brother with this.”

He brought Anthony in for a hug, and Anthony actually hugged him back.

Delilah kept her eyes everywhere but on the Prince. She couldn’t bear to see what he felt. His emotions were always written on his face, and if she had to look up and see sadness -or, heaven forbid, hatred - she would never recover.

“Miss Bridgerton!” 

Delilah joined her brother in front of the King, her knees knocking together the whole way.

“You protected your brother, and therefore your family’s title. I protected my brother for many years from scorn. It is why I am King, despite the fact that he is first in line for throne.”

It was like the air had gotten sucked from the room.

“I became King because my brother did not want it. Just as you gave up your title to protect your brother. That means a great deal to me.”

She didn’t know what she could possibly say, so she simply bowed her head in a silent thanks.

Gunther eyed his son. 

“Before I pass judgment on your trial marriage, I think you and Friedrich should talk, no?”

She finally looked at him. He was looking at her.

He was always looking at her.

“Yes, I think we should.” He said.

He grabbed her hand with force she didn’t expect, and all but dragged her out of the room. He took her through the throng of people still milling about in the vestibule, past Anita and Harrison who were sitting on the main steps, and out the front door and into the summer air. He pulled her through the sprawling gardens, and towards the cover of the woods, and he didn’t stop until they were far enough into the forest  to not be seen by prying eyes.

His hold on her hand was painfully firm, and he let her go once they had stopped walking. She massaged her wrist and watched as he stepped a few paces away.

He was angry, she realized. She had never seen him angry.

“You are mad.” He said definitively. “You are the maddest woman alive.”

He was probably right about that. 

“I’m sorry. Truly, I didn’t know that Anthony would do that! If I’d ever have thought-“

“No.” He interrupted. His hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together. “No, let me finish.”

She closed her mouth tightly. 

“I cannot believe that you would do something as foolish as lie about something like this.” He was pacing now, speaking to the air and not directly to her.

“My father could have ruined you if he wanted. He would have told my Aunt you had dishonored us. You would have nothing to fall back on in London. You would be a pariah.”

She nodded solemnly. “I know. I’m sorry, I…well, I was going to say I never lie, but it seems that is no longer true.  What I mean is, it would have been so much worse if he’d punished Anthony instead!”

“I know!” He cried, frustrated. “I know, and if he had not fixed things today, my father would have done exactly that. And even though I know that, I am still so mad because…because you thought I no longer wanted you.”

She blinked. And blinked again.

“I beg your pardon?”

He turned his gaze onto her, and it was like she had stepped into a spotlight, she was so pinned in place by his eyes.

His expression was dark and angry. “How dare you ever think that I would abandon you. I could see it in your eyes last night. You thought that because you broke my uncle’s chandelier I would stop loving you?”

“I thought…it seemed an insurmountable obstacle. I thought you’d look at me and only see the mistake I made…that you’d only see how clumsy I was.”

The air around them was thick, and hot. She thought she might pass out.

He stalked towards her, his arms now folded tightly across his chest.

“Delilah, you are clumsy.”

Her chest was tight.

“I am not blind. I see you. I see everything about you. So you have a harder time navigating a set of stairs? You think I care about that?”

She wasn’t sure what she thought anymore. Friedrich had never regarded her like this before. He was so affable, and charming and light. This Friedrich was darker - rougher.

“I like that you are clumsy. I mean, I don’t like it…I worry about you often. Every bump and bruise you get makes me want to throw you into your bedroom and lock the door tight so that you might never get hurt again.” 

Her body responded involuntarily to the mental picture he had created, that fire lighting up within her. 

“What I like.." he said, eyes glistening with admiration  "is that the first thing you do after you hurt yourself is laugh.”

She bit her lip harshly. 

“Damn it!” He cried and he brought his hand up to her chin. “Take your lip out of your mouth before I do it for you.”

She released it, but he kept his grip on her face. The feeling of his hand on her always set her alight, and even this touch, as small as it was, made her needy for him. And this side of Friedrich, demanding and rough, was not unwelcome. 

He was breathing hard as he spoke, each word coming out harsh and solid. “You are funny. And kind, and witty and beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And even if you had destroyed that chandelier beyond recognition, I would still love you. And I would still marry you. Because you wouldn’t have done it on purpose. And because there is no life for me now without you in it. It’s just not possible.”

He was looking at her with such reverance. She could see his emotions as clearly now as she always had. He loved her. He still wanted to marry her. He always had.

“You are angry…” She said stupidly.

“You doubted me.” He replied.

“But you love me?” 

“Shall I repeat myself?” He said, his anger fading into amusement.

“By all means.” She quipped.

He held her chin even more firmly and bent to look her right in the eyes.

“Delilah, I love you. I want to marry you. I don’t ever want you to doubt that. Do you understand?”

She nodded swiftly. “I won’t…not anymore.”

He stepped into her space, and wrapped his other arm deftly around her waist.

“Good.” 

“I love you too.” She said hurriedly. “I want to marry you too.”

“Even better.” He grinned, and then he kissed her. When they parted, he added, “Being angry is quite fun. I must ask Anthony about it.”

She snorted, delighted that carefree Friedrich had come back. “Please do. That’s a guaranteed way of making him even angrier.”

“Which means he’ll be having the most fun.”

She laughed into his shoulder as she brought him into a hug. “That’s one way to put it.”

Being in his arms had always felt like home. She nestled into him, listening to his heartbeat.

“What do you think your father will say? About our trial?”

Now that she and Friedrich were okay again, their biggest obstacle loomed before them. Whatever he said when they returned would determine everything. It would either be the start of the rest of her life, or the end as she knew it.

“Honestly…I don’t know.”

So this moment, here in the woods…this could be it for them.  It was day fourteen, and even with the chandelier fixed, if Gunther said no, they would be leaving.

She bit her lip without meaning to.

“Let’s just stay here…” she said into his neck. “Let’s stay just like this. For as long as we can.”

Friedrich moved her face into view and once he saw her lip tucked between her teeth, his eyes flashed.

“Or maybe…” he said, placing their foreheads together. “Maybe we finally reward ourselves.”

She gasped slightly, realizing his meaning.

“It has been awfully hard work..” she mused,  placing her fingers into his hair and tugging.

He moaned and dug his fingers into her backside.

“Very. Hard.” 

He kissed her fervently, all pretense thrown out the window. This was not going to be a seduction- this was need.

His hands were immediately unbuttoning her dress. She ran a hand down his chest, shoving it into the front of his jacket and beginning to push it off his shoulders.

He stopped unbuttoning to get the offending garment off, then roughly turned her 180 degrees.

He undid the rest of the buttons and brought the dress down quickly. She stepped out of it quite gracefully. She had a task set before her, after all, and she was almost never clumsy when there was a task at hand.

They crashed back together, their lips moving in a tantric rhythm. She could feel his hands so much better through just her chemise. He touched her breasts, her hips, her stomach…

It was a blissful kind of torture, and she wished it would never end. 

He yanked his shirt off next. She relished being able to touch his bare skin, her fingers playing softly with the hair on his chest. 

“Off” he mumbled, grabbing at the hem of her chemise. She broke their kiss and helped him lift if off of her, and then she was bare except for her stockings.

He paused to look at her, silhouetted by the trees. She didn’t feel scared, or nervous. She felt sexy.

His eyes raked over her body slowly, drinking her in. He muttered soemthing in German and grabbed her around the waist before laying her on the ground, her back tickled by the dewy grass.

He kissed her again, and grabbed the soft flesh of her breast in his hand. She moaned into his mouth, her hands fisting into the earth below her.

“I love you…” he said, kissing down the column of her neck.

“I need you…” He kissed between her breasts and down her sternum. He took his kisses further, across her large belly. He kept going down, down, down until he was running his hands across her thighs before parting them. She watched in fascination as he began kissing her at the spot between her legs, sending little ripples of pleasure through her. Then, he made eye contact with her before licking her.

She arched her back off the ground, not expecting the sensation. “Oh my!” She cried.

He kept eye contact as he began to lick and lick and lick, and she threw her head back in ecstasy. That fire within her was burning hottter and hotter, threatening to burn her alive. It was exquisite.

“Friedrich…oh!”

She thread a hand into his hair which spurred him on, and he quickened the pace of his tongue, sending her into overdrive.

“Something…is happening…” she said, her body building up to something, though she didn’t know what.

He stopped only to say, “Let go, my love.”

Before diving back in. 

Before she really knew what was happening, white spots burst behind her eyes and she writhed under him. He held her hips down as she bucked them. He kept licking her until the stars were gone and her body had calmed down, and then he brought himself back up to meet her lips in a searing kiss.

“You were so good, my love.” He praised, nuzzling her. “So pretty when you lose control.”

“That was incredible.” She said, her body boneless.

“And that was just the beginning…” he said mischievously. 

He unbuttoned his breeches and began to remove them. She stared down at the length of him as it came free of its constraints. It was long and stood at attention, demanding for her to see.

“Are you ready?” He asked, looking at her in the eyes. 

“If it’s you, I’m always ready.”

He rewarded her pretty words with a kiss.

“It’s going to hurt at first.” He said, petting her hair. “I promise it won’t hurt again after that.”

She nodded. She trusted him implicitly.

“Ok, my love.”

He entered her slowly. It felt strange, but he was kissing her jaw and her neck, and palming her breast. She focused on his lips and hand, and barely noticed when he moved further in. Her fire was burning again, just a small little flame. 

He kissed her mouth as he bottomed out. There was a moment of pain, and an awkwardness, but she got distracted by his lips.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“Yes I think so.”

“I’m going to move now. Tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

He moved slowly within her once. Then twice. She brought her hips up to meet his without realizing.

“I think that means it feels good?” He asked.

“Yes. More, please.”

He chuckled. “Ever so polite.”

He began moving in earnest, and it was like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

“You feel so good around me.” He said into her hair. “So soft. So good.”

She was moaning into his shoulder, her hands running laps across his back. She never wanted this to end, just wanted them to live in this bubble of pleasure together forever.

She moaned again. He lifted his head up to look her in the eye. 

“I love to hear your sounds. Your moans and sighs….”

He began thrusting a bit faster and she gasped. Little sounds began coming from her involuntarily. She met his every thrust with her hips, chasing that sensation for a second time, wanting to come undone again.

His hips kept their rhythm, and they both chased their pleasure feverishly. He whispered praise into her ear with every little movement of her hands or sigh from her lips. 

“It’s happening…” she said.

“I’m there as well…so close…”

He placed his hand onto the bud of her core and after a few circular strokes, she was seeing stars again.

He thrusted into her a handful of times before he released inside of her, moaning low into her ear.

They lay for a few moments, panting. She opened her eyes and stared at the sun peeking through the leaves. It was the most peaceful she had ever felt, lying on the grass in the woods next to the palace with the man she loved lying sated atop her.

“How am I to let you go now?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead.

And she had no answer. 

"It seems..." came a voice from nearby, "That perhaps you cannot let her go now, after all."

Delilah shot up like a rocket, covering her body with her dress. Friedrich, too, jerked upwards, attempting to cover Delilah with his body but failing miserably. She turned painfully slowly to face the person who had spoken.

The Queen of bloody England.

Chapter Text

“Aunt Charlotte!” Friedrich cried, his voice an octave higher than normal. He held his breeches over his manhood and came to stand in front of Delilah as she held her dress up to shield herself. She couldn’t help but laugh at his lithe form attempting to cover up her curves. It must have been akin to an elephant hiding behind a telephone pole. 

Queen Charlotte stood with her attendants, Grimsby at her side. He looked rather unaffected by the events before him, as if he saw naked canoodling couples every day. The attendants had wide eyes, but kept their expressions neutral. One of the Queen’s corgis panted happily and attempted to run toward Friedrich in greeting, but the attendant holding his leash kept him constrained.

The Queen herself looked amused, her lips curved into an almost smile. 

“Oh, Friedrich, I was there when you were born, you know.”

He scoffed. “I think perhaps I may have grown a bit since then, no?”

Delilah giggled shamelessly. 

She delighted in the way he looked back at her, like he couldn’t help but take a moment and revel in the moment with her. It was an absurd situation, to be sure, being found after making love by Friedrich’s aunt.

Delilah paused, her smile dropping. 

Aunt. 

Did that mean….? 

“Friedrich….” No need to refer to him formally in their current state. “The King is your father’s brother…?”

Friedrich angled himself towards her, careful not to turn too far or remove himself from her front. “No…um…my mother is Queen Charlotte’s sister.”

She tried to stay upright, confusion seeping into her bones. “But your mother said….”

Charlotte spoke then. “My sister is a bit of a menace, no doubt. She chose not to come into polite society when I was brought into the Crown. But love forces people into positions they might not ever expect.”

Queen Anastasia chose to be the one thing she didn’t ever want to be, simply for love. Delilah could not think of anything more beautiful.

“Why do you think this place is the way it is? It is my mother’s influence that makes us a working people.”

Friedrich’s words were like a balm to her soul. She had thought for so long that being a woman who desired work would make her a pariah, or unlovable. She knew now that that wasn’t the case. This place, this family…as much as she was a Bridgerton and always would be, Prussia was her home. She belonged there.

“Well, I suppose we should let you dress. I’ll be seeing you all inside.” 

The attendants swiftly turned and made their way up the hill. Grimsby began the trek as well, but hung back a bit, never wanting to be too far from his lady.

“Aunt Charlotte…” Friedrich said. “Are we…I mean to say…I have compromised Miss Bridgerton. It was ungentlemanly of me, but I am of course prepared to-”

“I do not know what you mean.” the Queen said, and that was that.

Delilah and Friedrich nodded, though they found themselves a bit saddened at the action. They still had to await the King’s judgment, but one word from Charlotte about what had transpired in the woods would force them to be wed, judgment be damned. 

They watched Charlotte turn and begin to walk away, waiting for the moment she was gone so they might dress. But Charlotte turned back after a moment. 

“Ah, yes, I forgot to mention…Miss Bridgerton there is a surprise waiting for you at the palace. So you may want to hurry along.”

The Queen’s face was mischievous, and Delilah could not determine why. Finally they were alone again, and Delilah relaxed against Friedrich.

“I suppose next time we have a dalliance we must use the bedchamber.” Friedrich said, smiling wickedly.

“I’d settle for just being indoors.” 

His laugh rung out, and she felt on top of the world. 

_________________________________________________________

Delilah entered the palace hesitantly, Friedrich at her back. Whatever surprise the Queen had brought her, she wasn’t sure if it would be a good one. There was no longer anyone in the vestibule, with the villagers seeming to have gone back home. Voices, however, were ringing out from the dining room.

“Breakfast, I suppose.” Freidrich pondered.

“Do we go in?”

His hand was placed firmly in her own, and he brought their joined hands up so he could place a kiss on the back of hers.

“We do.”

“And if we are denied?”

Freidrich’s eyes shone. “Then we fight.”

Her answering smile must have been blinding. 

Delilah stepped into the dining room, still holding onto Friedrich, and was shocked when two small figured flung themselves at her. Two warm bodies were pressed against her sides, and she had to let go of Friedrich’s hand to steady herself. 

Two sets of curly brown hair were pressed into her middle, one quite short and the other a bit longer. 

“Delilah!”

Gregory and Hyacinth were in her arms. She started, shocked, before tightening her arm against them. 

“Greggy! Hy! What are you doing here?!”

“The Queen invited us!” Hyacinth said conspiratorily, gesturing to the other side of the room where Queen Charlotte was seated at the head of the table. Delilah’s eyes went with her, and she noticed that there were several other Bridgertons there, all smiling at her and waiting for hugs of their own.

“Oh my goodness!” Delilah cried. “You’re all here!”

She gave Hyacinth and Gregory a ruffle of hair. “Oi!” Gregory cried, as she bent to give him a kiss on the cheek. Hyacinth giggled at him and he chased her away. Delilah didn’t know who to look at first.

Colin was closest, so she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. Benedict was next, their interaction much of the same. 

Francesca shyly smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek, while Eloise crashed against her like a tidal wave. 

And then she and Daphne locked eyes.

“You came? But your…” Delilah’s eyes flicked down to Daphne’s stomach. 

She gave her one of those dazzling smiles, the kind that only the diamond of the first water could give. “And not be here to support my sister? You must have gone mad here.”

They laughed, like they were young girls again and not grown women, and hugged each other tightly. 

“My lord.” Delilah greeted, with a short curtsy. 

“Please, you’re family.” he said amiably, and gave Delilah a proper hug. “Plus I still owe you for letting me stay with my wife.” he whispered, so as to not let the other occupants of the room hear.

“Oh my dear!” came another voice, and Delilah turned to see her mother there, antsy to greet her child.

“Mama!” 

No matter how difficult life could be, there was nothing more soothing to the soul than a hug from one’s mother. Especially after time away.

“You look beautiful.” she said. “Though your hair is a bit out of sorts.” Violet’s hands fussed with the strands, and Delilah tried desperately not to blush. Her mother didn’t need to know why exactly her hair had come undone. 

“Mother.” Anthony said, a hand on her shoulder. “Leave her be.”

Violet tutted, but removed her hand. “Anthony, I am allowed to fuss over my child. Especially when she has been in a foreign country for two weeks! You must tell us everything.” Her hands cupped Delilah’s cheeks, bringing them close. 

“I will tell you everything. All of you, truly.”

She swept her eyes over the rest of her siblings, and saw that a few of them were gathered around Friedrich. He was speaking with Colin and Benedict, their smiles easy, as he let Hyacinth hold onto his forearm, dangling her a few inches above the floor as she giggled relentlessly.  Gregory was waiting impatiently for his own turn. 

Eloise had already sat down with her current book, and Francesca was next to her, reading over her shoulder. 

Daphne smirked. “It seems they have taken a liking to your prince, dear sister.” 

Anthony chimed in then, his voice a tad harder than she would have liked. “Well, they have every reason to. He is a respectable man. Isn’t he?”

There was a question in Anthony’s eyes, and Delilah realized it must have been quite shocking for him to drag her out of the room earlier. Delilah gave him a small nod and a smile. 

“Very respectable.” 

She could tell his acquiescence was quite difficult, but he was learning to loosen the leash. She gave him a secret smile of thanks. 

“”Well, as touching as this has been, I believe we are here for a reason, are we not?”

Everyone’s heads had turned sharply at the sound of the Queen’s voice. It was easy to forget she was there, she was so caught up in the reunion with her family.

Eloise closed her book and stood, her back a bit straighter. Gregory and Hyacinth cleared their throats and attempted to stand still. 

“Why don’t I go fetch my parents?” Friedrich said, his eyes finding Delilah’s. “I believe it’s time.”

“Before you go!” Delilah cried, and everyone's eyes were now on her. “Well, I’d like to say something. To everyone. “

She let her eyes roam over all her siblings, and her mother. She watched as Simon tucked Daphne into his side, as Benedict gave her a wide grin and a small thumbs up. She even looked at Queen Charlotte, an eyebrow raised pertly over her brow, waiting for whatever words Delilah had for them. 

Colin cleared his throat and jogged over to the dining room table, and began reaching for the tray of shortbread cookies, snagging three. As he noticed the look of incredulity on their faces, he shrugged and returned to his spot. “It seemed like it would be a bit long. I wanted to prepare.”

Everyone chuckled lowly. Delilah squared her shoulders. A hand was pressed into her shoulder, and she knew without looking it was Anthony. 

She was the sun for now, shining before them all. But when it was time, down the line, Delilah would make sure Anthony would shine bright. That was the role of the sun and the moon after all, wasn’t it? When one shines, the other is there, on the other side of the room, making those that are not in the sun’s orbit desire that warmth. 

“I wanted to say that….well, we all have suffered a great loss. The loss of our father, Edmund.”

The falling of her siblings’ faces was like a knife in her heart, but she kept going. She held Anthony’s hand to her shoulder, ensuring he could not escape. 

“He was more than our father, though. He was a husband…” She gestured to Violet. 

“A lover of art…” she said to Benedict.

“An avid eater…”  to Colin.

“A lover of music…” to Daphne.

“A ferocious reader…” to Eloise.

“He possessed an even temper…” to Francesca.

“And he loved to tease…” to Gregory.

“He knew exactly who he was.” to Hyacinth.

“He was a protector. A man with honor..” she said, squeezing Anthony’s hand. 

“She shrugged and gestured to herself. “He was a mender of wounds.”

Violet’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, her hands clasped over her chest. 

“And he loved. Deeply. Fervently. Freely. Even those of us who he did not get to meet…”

Hyacinth gave a little half smile, and for once Gregory didn’t tease her. He slipped an arm around her shoulders instead. 

“He was the only one who never made me feel less than because I was clumsy. In fact, when I was ten…he told me something. And I think it is time I share it all with you….”

Delilah let herself fall into the memory.

She had climbed up the willow tree, ever the adventurous Bridgerton. She and Colin were the same in that way, and it had been Colin whooping and laughing as she had ascended the tree. 

“Come on Delilah! Can’t you go any higher?”

She tutted, but grabbed onto another thick knot in the wood of the tree. Her arms were beginning to burn with the effort, but she wanted to go higher. She wanted to prove she could do it, that she was just as capable as her brothers were. 

Colin kept laughing and whooping as she went further, and she ignored Anthony’s shout from across the yard. He was home from university, which had given him a sense of superiority. He had spent the whole summer being a stick in the mud, though it only took a puppy dog look from Delilah for him to give in and play a game with them.

“You’re going to fall!” he was saying, and she could hear another voice with his. Her father was there, watching with amusement in his eyes. “Let her be.” He’d said.

Delilah was almost to the top when the branch she’d grabbed snapped in her hand, and her balance was thrown off. She didn’t hear the shouts of her family, just felt air whipping past her ear and then the ground on her side, her arm crumpling underneath her.

Hot tears were in her eyes when Colin found her. He didn’t know what to do, could only ask her if she was ok, kneeling by her side. Anthony was there next, and he shooed Colin away as he rolled Delilah onto her back. He had been about to pick her up when Edmund had placed a hand on Anthony’s shoulder. 

“Let me.”

Anthony nodded and stood back, but stayed close in case something went wrong. 

“Oh my dear!” her father said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. 

Delilah could only wail in pain, her arm stinging. Edmund lifted her off the ground and took her inside to the informal drawing room, his steps slow and steady. He wasn’t rushing, he stayed very calm the entire time. 

“Anthony, ring the doctor, please.”

Anthony nodded and attempted to enter the room with them, Colin just behind him. Her mother must have heard the cries, because she was suddenly at the door, pushing Colin and Anthony out of the way. “The doctor, Anthony.”

He rushed off to the study to make the call, and Colin helplessly stood in the doorway before turning on his heel and walking up the stairs at his mother’s curt look. 

Baby Hyacinth was resting in the crook of her arm, and she expertly maneuvered herself around the room and over to Delilah. 

“Sweetheart….” she said, pressing a kiss to Delilah’s forehead. “What happened?”

Delilah’s sobs had lessened, but still she cried freely. “I fell out of the willow tree.”

Her mother balked. “Delilah Bridgerton! You are too clumsy to be climbing trees. What possessed you to do such a thing?”

Delilah didn’t know what to say. Her mind was overcome too much by pain. 

“I didn’t mean to…it was an accident.”

Violet sighed, her hand on Delilah’s chin. “We are going to have to have a talk about what you can and cannot-”

“I will take care of it, my love.” Edmund said, cutting her off.

They exchanged a long look, Edmund’s eyes warm. Violet sighed and nodded, giving her husband a kiss to the temple. She took Hyacinth back out into the hallway, and closed the door. 

Delilah shifted and white hot pain shot up her arm. “Papa!” she cried. “It hurts!”

“I know…” he said, stroking her hair. “I’ve already called for the doctor, my sweet. It will be ok.”

“So we just have to wait?” she asked, fear seizing her. 

“I wish I could mend this myself, but you’ll need a splint.”

For a few moments they just sat. Edmund held Delilah’s good hand in his left, while his right petted her hair. Delilah’s tears began to subside, her body relaxing. 

“Mama’s right. I am too clumsy. I shall never be graceful. And no one will want to be my friend, or want to marry me, and I will be kicked out of society and forced to live on the street.”

Her father’s laugh echoed brightly across the room. “Oh, is that so?”

She nodded. “That or I shall marry someone who is just as clumsy as me and we will spend our whole lives dropping plates and falling down stairs.”

Edmund laughed again, and Delilah couldn’t help a giggle of her own. 

“That is quite the future. And those are the only options, then?”

She nodded, resolute. “Indeed.”

Her father leaned forward, and he gave her a wicked smile. “May I tell you a secret?”

Delilah nodded, leaning further in. “Yes.”

“I knew you were going to fall out of the tree.”

Delilah’s shoulders fell. “Because I am so clumsy, how could I not fall?”

Edmund shook his head. “No, my sweet, because the tree is old. The branches are not so strong, that even baby Hyacinth would have not been able to rest upon one.”

Delilah’s mouth formed an ‘o’.

“But you see, my sweet, when I stayed at Aubrey Hall as a boy, I, too, fell out of the willow tree. I broke my pinky toe, and had to stay off of it for an entire fortnight. I was unable to play, to even walk, or to do anything but grumble and groan from my bed. And do you know what I did when I was healed?”

Delilah shook her head. 

“I ran right back to the willow tree and tried again.”

Delilah furrowed her brows. “You climbed it again?”

He nodded. “Yes, and this time instead of grabbing wildly at the branches, I chose carefully. I used knots in the wood to pull myself up. And once I got to the top I whooped and cheered like I had reached the moon.”

“I don’t understand why you let me fall out of the tree, then.”

He leaned back and shook his head. “Because when you fall, the lesson is not in the falling. It is in the getting back up again. And those who want to accurately judge your character will look at the latter, not the former.”

Her eyes widened. She understood, now, what he was saying. She was clumsy, and she was always going to fall. But that did not make her unworthy of love.

She reached up to place a kiss on her father’s cheek, and he gave her several very messy kisses on her own cheek, making her giggle into the pillow. 

“You really fell out of the willow tree too?” she asked, when they had settled. 

Her eyes followed his hands as they removed his right shoe, and he showed her his pinky toe, where there was a small scar. 

“Will I have one of those!?” Delilah asked, both horrified and excited at the idea.

“I don’t know, my love.”

Delilah threw her good arm up in frustration, deciding horror was the appropriate response. “No one will want to talk to me with a scar on my arm. Yours is hidden, but mine will be so obvious!”

Edmund took a moment to think, pushing Delilah’s shoulders so she lay down flat on the chaise. The afternoon light was casting sunlight across Edmund’s hair, and Delilah thought he looked like some sort of guardian angel. 

“Well, if you have a scar, will it not be a symbol of our connection? A piece of me to take with you wherever you go?”

Delilah considered the idea. It certainly sounded a lot better put in those terms. Still, the idea was not so welcome. 

“It will still symbolize my falling. It will show everyone how clumsy I am.”

“Think of it like this - any time you fall or slip or tumble, your scar will be falling with you. And your scar is a symbol of our connection. Therefore, if you fall, I fall with you.”

She smiled brightly. “I suppose when you say it like that it actually sounds rather wonderful!”

He smiled his half smile, the one that she and Anthony and Colin shared. His eyes crinkled at the corners like Benedict’s and Francesca’s and Daphne’s. The mischievous glint in his eye, the one that Eloise, Gregory and Hyacinth all usually had, bore down on her as he asked, “Would you care for some chocolate biscuits while we wait?”

Her yes was full of more joy than she could ever think possible in a word of only three letters.

And then, a week later, he was dead. 

Her family had never known where the phrase had come from. Sometime in the year after Edmund’s death, their mother had finally gone out to a social event, with Benedict and Anthony accompanying her. The rest of the siblings had been too young to go anywhere, but they had all huddled by the front door to say good night to their mother. Violet had looked so scared, and Delilah had rushed forward, the words leaping off her tongue.  “If you fall, we fall with you.”

Anytime one of her siblings needed help or guidance, she found herself saying it. It had become sort of an unofficial mantra of the family. She’d overheard Anthony saying it to Daphne during her drama with Simon. Francesca had said it to Greggy when he had been terrified to try horse riding. Eloise had even said it once to Penelope, though Delilah had not known the context. 

And now they all stood before her, supporting her the same way they always had. And they deserved to know - that it wasn’t her, but their father who had been with them.

She finished her story, and fingered the spot just below her elbow where a crescent shaped scar sat. 

“So…” Delilah said, trying desperately to avoid her tears falling down her face. “If ever we are in a bad situation, just know that those words are not just ones of our own design. Those are our father’s words. And he is with us. Always.”

Their mother broke the silence. “Oh, my dears. He would be so proud of us.”

Delilah found Friedrich’s eyes, and he gave her a nod before exiting, grabbing his parents. 

Anthony came into Delilah’s line of sight. She saw the emotion etched onto his face, and she gave him a little pat on the cheek.

“You are the absolute worst.” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Really? Would you like me to fill everyone in on the festivities from last night now? We will be waiting for at least a few moments…” 

He shoved her shoulder from behind, but his smile was full of fondness. “You are my favorite sister, you know.”

Delilah grinned. “I know.”

Delilah watched her family talk animatedly with each other about their own moments with Edmund, listening attentively. They had spent so long without talking about it, that it felt so nice to share. 

Delilah’s eyes moved over to the Queen, still seated and looking rather contemplative. Delilah moved to her side, curtsying very carefully so as to not have any repeat mishaps. 

“Your majesty.”

“Miss Bridgerton. That was quite the speech. Impassioned, I would say.”

Delilah shrugged. “My family means everything to me.”

The Queen tilted her head, almost like a dog. “Yes…”

“I just wanted you to know…that if the King does not give his consent, Friedrich and I are resigned to do whatever we must. We are a love match.”

She was nodding, but it didn’t appear that she was listening. Her eyes were somewhere else, far from the room they were in. 

“I see.”

“Do you?” 

For a moment, Delilah thought maybe she had crossed a line. Then, that almost smile spread across her lips. 

“I believe I do, Miss Bridgerton .” Her head dipped in a dismissive nod, and Delilah took her leave to join her siblings. Daphne found her quickly.

“So what happens if they say no?” she asked. 

Delilah shrugged. “We are prepared to do whatever it takes.”

Daphne’s smile was lethal. “Good.”

Suddenly the other siblings were there too. They stood in a circle, all eyes on Delilah. 

“If you fall…” Benedict started, and his grin turned boyish. “Well, I expect you know what comes after.”

The door opened, but it was not Friedrich. Anita entered the room, Harrison just behind her. 

“Anita!” Delilah cried, and she grabbed her maid viciously about the wrist, yanking her into the huddle. 

“Miss Delilah!” she said, almost tripping over her skirts. “What on earth!”

“Everyone, you all know Anita. She belongs in the huddle, if you will allow her.”

"Oh, how lovely!" cried Violet.

Eloise smiled widely. “Yes, I do believe we should! So nice to invite a working woman into the fold.”

Daphne tapped Anita’s shoulder. “Miss Anita, it is good to see you.”

“My stars.." Anita balked, still processing the Bridgertons' presence in the dining room.  "I never thought I’d see the lot of you together again!”

“It is quite the effort.” Colin said. “It seems our family grows larger with every passing breath.”

“Might as well get Simon in here, then!” Anthony called.

Francesca sighed. “Christmas will be ghastly.”

Simon, whose vest had been unceremoniously yanked by Daphne, righted himself after his violent entrance to the circle. “Hello, Bridgertons.”

Hello.” they all said in unison. 

Hyacinth groaned. “Well, are we going to do anything or are we all just standing here?”

“Perhaps some sort of special handshake?” Benedict suggested.

“Your hands are always covered in paint.” Delilah said, shuddering. 

“Wanna guess what my hands are covered in?” Gregory asked. 

“Gregory, please!” Violet sighed.

Anita spoke up tentatively. “Well, I know I ain’t a real Bridgerton or nothing, but my ladies and I used to put our hands in and raise them in the air, like a salute. Maintaining Aubrey Hall is quite the task, so we always had to build morale and such…” 

Anita looked a bit scared to have spoken directly to the family, not havi g ever said anything to anyone beyond Delilah and Daphne. 

“Capital idea, Miss Anita.” said Anthony, and everyone agreed. 

So they all put their hands in and, after the count of three, raised them up in a sort of ‘go team’ gesture. If the Queen tutted, Delilah chose not to notice it. 

And then the door opened once more, and this time it was Friedrich. His parents were just behind him. He looked a little concerned, but Delilah didn’t want to dwell on that. Perhaps it was nothing. 

The Bridgertons all separated into more of a line. Harrison and Anita stayed against the wall, their hands clasped together, and Delilah couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face. 

King Gunther and Queen Anastasia didn’t seem too surprised by the Bridgertons’ presence. It seemed only Delilah had been uninformed.  Everyone bowed to the royalty, and Queen Charlotte stood to embrace her sister. 

“Charlotte, my love, it is so good to see you.”

“And I, you. Oh, Annie, your little boy is all grown up!”

Friedrich had moved to stand with Delilah, and Delilah gave him a smile. His eyes were wide and a little alarmed. 

Delilah furrowed her brows, and he shrugged his shoulders. He truly didn’t know how this was going to go.

“Indeed…”Anastasia replied, eyeing her son. 

“He is the picture of a future king, no?” Gunther cried. 

Delilah nodded yes, even though the only person who saw was Friedrich.

“Well, that leads us to the topic of today’s meeting.” Charlotte said, gesturing to the couple. “Friedrich is truly the picture of a future King. But is Miss Bridgerton the picture of a future Queen?”

Anastasia and Gunther looked at her, and Delilah couldn’t read their expressions. 

“If I may….” came a voice from behind Delilah, and Simon stepped forward. “I know I am not quite the picture of royalty, but I wanted to offer my support of Miss Bridgerton.”

It seemed Simon was cashing in his favor quite early. 

“And you are?” asked the King.

“Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings.”

“Are you not married to Miss Bridgerton’s sister?” asked Anastasia. 

Simon nodded. “I am.”

“Therefore it would only further your own station should we agree to this marriage.”

Simon's eyes widened. “I assure you, that was not my intention-”

“And yet…” The King cried, “The result is the same. I do believe if we are to pass judgment, it will be without your voucher.”

Simon bristled. “I swear to you, sir, I was only-”

“Oh, everyone please just be quiet.” 

All eyes were on Queen Charlotte now, shocked at her outburst. Delilah and Friedrich’s hands found one another.

“It does not matter what you are about to say because Miss Bridgerton has been compromised.”

There was a brief moment of silence that followed the Queen’s statement, and in that silence, Delilah thought that perhaps she might be able to escape. If she found the door in that quiet moment and began running, by the time everyone had realized what was happening, she would already be halfway down the road leading to the nearest village.

But she didn’t run in that moment, because she had elected to fight for her marriage. 

Marriage. It had been such a long road to get there. She could fight a little bit longer. 

The first thing she heard was Hyacinth’s giggles, and then all of her family members were whispering and gasping and chattering. 

“Excuse me!?” came the loudest voice from behind her.

Of course this had to happen just when she and Anthony were starting to get along. He rounded on Delilah, his eyes venomous. 

“Friedrich!” Gunther yelled. “You are not being stupid enough to have compromised Miss Bridgerton, are you!?”

Anthony and Gunther stood side by side, their expressions practically the same. 

Delilah turned to Friedrich.

She gave him a look that said, what should we do?

He gave her a look that said, ahhhh so this is what it’s like to speak the silent language.

She gave him a look that said this is serious!

He gave her a look that was apologetic, and then gave her a look that said I think we should be honest.

She gave him a smile, and then a look that said, I feel the same way.

“I did.” Friedrich said. “We did.”

The vein on Anthony’s temple throbbed. “Delilah, is this true?”

She bit her lip. “Yes, it very much is.”

Benedict wolf whistled from behind them, and Delilah attempted not to laugh. 

“I saw them with my own eyes.” Queen Charlotte said, and she directed the statement to Delilah. “So whatever you are about to say doesn’t signify. They will have to marry, after all.”

Delilah and Queen Charlotte’s eyes stayed locked together, and she knew in that moment that Charlotte had mentioned it on purpose. That she was doing this to make sure they ended up together.

Gunther’s face was tomato red, and he looked like he might have a seizure. Anastasia came forward to place a comforting hand on Gunther’s shoulder. 

Anthony looked horrified at the Queen having seen them, and he gave her another ridiculous look. Delilah shrugged, unable to say much of anything. She was getting what she wanted, after all. Anything she had to say would only set Anthony off. 

“Well…” came Violet’s soft voice. “It is a good thing the Queen invited us all here. I am exceptional at party planning. And I suspect we would want a quick wedding after…well..”

Violet winked at her daughter, and Delilah gave her a blinding smile. 

Gunther was still sputtering, his wife trying desperately to help him compose himself. Anastasia gave Delilah a quick little smile. “Yes, well, I suppose we should arrange for something at the end of the week.”

Gunther finally found his voice. “Yes…yes, we will have to have a wedding soon.” 

His eyes raked over Friedrich angrily, but softened when they reached Delilah. 

“Welcome to the family.” he said, his voice fond. 

“Thank you!” said everyone whose last name was Bridgerton, and even some whose last name was not.

Hours later, after a raucous dinner (having all the Bridgertons and all the workers of the palace in one room was no small feat, and the sound was rather deafening) Anthony found himself escorting Delilah and Friedrich up the stairs as he had every night for the past two weeks. This time, though, he did not stop outside Delilah’s door. She and Friedrich went to his room, where they would both retire together.

“I can’t say I’m thrilled at the way things shook out, but…the end result is the same and therefore I am happy for you.”

Delilah gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Anthony. Even with everything that happened, I wouldn’t be getting my happy ending if it weren’t for you.”

She’d never seen her brother blush before, but he was doing so now. 

He cleared his throat and turned to Friedrich. “Your highness, it is an honor to hand my sister over to your capable hands. I welcome you to the family.”

Friedrich shook his hand firmly. “Oh, Mr. Bridgerton, call me Friedrich. And I daresay I think myself to be the one in her hands.”

Anthony chuckled. “Yes, that does sound more appropriate.”

Suddenly, Delilah had a question she felt she must ask immediately. 

“You will…give me away, won’t you? At the wedding?”

Anthony’s eyes softened. “I…of course. Yes. You needn’t even ask.”

Anthony nodded his head. Everything that needed to be said had been said. Delilah watched Anthony go, longing for the day he would find a love story of his own.

Friedrich smiled down at Delilah. “Ready to go inside?”

She nodded excitedly, and they entered his room.

It was messy. That was not a bad thing - in fact, she liked that it was messy. Gears and tools littered all the different surfaces, with manuals half opened all around. The dresser had several time pieces littered across the top, a magnifying glass lying haphazardly on top of them. His side table was unable to be seen, with nothing but pieces of metal and wood atop it. 

“I’m sorry…” he said, self conscious. “I should have tidied…”

Delilah grabbed his hands in her own. “It’s your space. And it’s perfect.”

They kissed, simply because they could.

He wrapped her into his arms. “I cannot wait to make you Mrs. Delilah Zimmerman…”

Delilah pushed against his chest. “Is that your last name!?”

He laughed loudly. “Did you not know?”

She shook her head. “Didn’t have the foggiest. All I really need to know is your first name…seeing as that it what I will be calling out in bed tonight…”

On purpose, she placed her bottom lip between her teeth. Friedrich sighed long and low and ran his thumb across her bottom lip, pulling it from between her teeth.

“Oh, Miss Bridgerton…but we aren’t even married yet…”

“That hasn’t stopped us before…”

He kissed her swiftly and began pulling her to the bed. She came willingly, their lips locking. Of course, unable to properly see, Delilah got caught up in her own skirts, and after a moment she tripped rather violently and began tumbling towards the floor. 

Friedrich gripped one of the columns of the four poster bed, but he wasn’t able to get purchase, and they were both suddenly on the ground. Their foreheads knocked together, and they both reached up and rubbed their faces, laughter bubbling up from inside their chests.

“Are you ok?” Delilah asked, giggling from behind her hand. Friedrich’s smile was wide and toothy, and he pulled Delilah into his lap. 

“I owe you a hundred pounds.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Did you hit your head harder than expected?”

Their hands came together, fingers interlocking. “My head is fine. I’m talking of our bet.”

He laughed when she cutely gave him a look of confusion. 

“When we met, you fell into my arms. And you said you’d bet me a hundred pounds that I’d never met a girl like you.”

Delilah’s breath came a little more ragged. “Oh.”

Friedrich pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and kissed her - first on her eyes, then on her nose. He kissed each of her cheeks, and finally he placed a long, languid kiss on her mouth. 

Each kiss lit her body up from the inside out, heating her skin like the warmth of the sun. And whenever his kiss was removed, she felt as if the light had dimmed only to that of the moon. 

And when they pulled apart, Friedrich looked her in her eyes with nothing but love and adoration on his face.

“ You are the sun and the moon and the stars…the water in the Serpentine and the earth beneath my feet…and I love you.”

Delilah’s tears came quickly. 

She was everything to him , and that was all that mattered. 

Chapter Text

Delilah shifted uncomfortably in the carriage, her eyes scanning out the window, her hands fidgeting in her lap. 

“My love, we are almost there.”

“We cannot go any faster?” Delilah asked, her shoulders tense. 

Friedrich laughed and shifted closer to his wife. “We are minutes away.”

Delilah let her shoulders fall. It had been almost a year since she’d seen her family.

They had stayed for two weeks in Prussia, as the wedding ended up taking a bit longer to come together than expected. It had been the best two weeks of her life, having her entire family with her in the place she loved above all else. And having her family at the wedding had been special, indeed.

But then two days later, the entire brood was packing up and heading back to London for the final event of the season - a ball at Daphne’s home in Clyvedon. 

The first day without them had been exceedingly torturous.

Friedrich had made it better, though. 

Their honeymoon had taken place in Scotland - Anita and Harrison had talked often of wanting to visit his birthplace, so Friedrich had invited the couple to go with them. Delilah had been so overcome with love that she may have kept Friedrich locked inside their bedchambers for a few days. 

Their time in Scotland had been beautiful, andmagical, and everything a honeymoon should be. And Anita had fallen in love with the place. She gushed about the buildings, the history, the people…Delilah had never seen her so happy and bright. 

So when Friedrich’s acquaintance - the Earl of Kilmartin - had said he was looking for someone to help at the castle for a handsome sum (far more handsome than most attendants could ever dream of) Delilah and Friedrich had sat the couple down and told them, in no uncertain terms, that they’d had to stay. 

“But Miss..”Anita had said, shaking her head.

“But nothing.” Delilah said. “This is where you belong, Anita. You can be a wife here. A mother if you want. A real woman, not a lady’s maid.”

In exchange for Friedrich giving up his family’s best attendant, Kilmartin had agreed to meet them in London the following season. 

“I want to see you married!” Friedrich had said. John had laughed, dismissing him with a hand. 

“Ah, I suppose it’ll be time.”

Life after the honeymoon had been….well, not easy.

King Gunther had still been upset over the…less than savory way Delilah and Friedrich had been married, and so he had been a bit cold at the offset. Queen Anastasia tried her best to get him to come around, but he still needed time. Delilah imagined the whole chandelier situation hadn’t helped much either.

So she threw herself into her duties instead. 

Her days were spent planning balls, and meeting consorts and talking about trade deals for crops. It was mentally exhausting work, but it was rewarding. She found herself spending any and all of her free time in the garden, planting Hyacinths. Her father had planted them all around Bridgerton house and Aubrey Hall, and Delilah could not live in a place without them. 

Her nights, of course, were consumed by her husband. 

They had agreed to avoid children for the first few months of their marriage. Delilah had not gotten pregnant from their first encounter in the woods, and she wanted to relish in her time as Princess. She wanted to relish in her time with Friedrich. They still avoided it, really, but lately Delilah had considered that maybe they should finally start trying. 

They stayed up until the wee hours of morning talking and laughing about everything and nothing. Friedrich would work on fixing the gears of a clock on one side of the room while Delilah tended to the potted ferns and flowers on the other side. Sometimes she’d read books about plants and gardening, or cooking, or even organized protest and revolution. 

She and Gunther had begun to warm up after a few months, but it wasn’t until an unscheduled visit from Queen Charlotte that Gunther had really begun to accept her.

Charlotte had mentioned during her stay at the wedding that she wanted to visit more often to see her sister. She hadn’t mentioned that she would drop by unannounced, however. 

“Annie!” Charlotte cried, stepping into the informal drawing room, startling Delilah so much she almost fell off the chaise. She had been lying in between Friedrich’s legs reading, while he had been running his fingers through her hair and writing a letter to an emissary in Russia, one-handed. 

The King and Queen had been sitting rather close together as well, Gunther leaning into Anastasia’s side, and they sprang apart in surprise. 

But of course, Anastasia had been overjoyed to see her sister.

Delilah and Friedrich listened politely to the conversation, but they hadn’t really been included. After an hour of catching up, Charlotte and Anastasia strolled through the gardens, and everyone who was left sat for a moment, confused. 

“Did she not write?” Delilah asked. 

Gunther grunted. “No! Very rude of her, i am thinking.”

Delilah nodded vigorously. Friedrich rubbed his thumb along the back of her neck soothingly. 

“I mean, I know we’re not quite of the same mind of polite society, but a letter in anticipation of a visit is just customary.”

Gunther walked over and sat on Delilah’s other side. “She is always doing this. She visited us during our honeymoon, and was being upset that we were not home!”

Delilah and Gunther may not have had much in common, but if there was one thing they both enjoyed, it was gossip. 

Charlotte’s visit hadn’t been any more exciting, and had ended after three days, but it was that visit that had begun to repair the relationship between Delilah and the King. 

In the days that followed, life had been bliss. But after almost a year, Delilah was more than ready to see the Bridgertons again. 

The carriage was finally going up the drive to Aubrey Hall, and Delilah could see her siblings across the way. They were only smudges of various shades of Bridgerton blue and lilac, but she could see them waiting for her at the entrance to Aubrey Hall. 

Laughter bubbled up out of Delilah, and she called, “Bridgertons!”as loudly as she could.

A faint yelling response had followed. 

When they were about halfway, and she could see the shapes of her family better, Delilah had gotten fed up. 

“I love you.” Delilah said to her husband. 

“I love you too…?” He said, sounding rather scared. 

“See you up there?”

“Delilah, what are you-”

And then she was flinging the carriage door open and tumbling out the side. Surprisingly, she didn’t fall on her face, just tripped over her legs and stumbled. But once her feet were solidly on the ground, she began running. She ran through the grass and toward her ancestral home, screaming out for her siblings. Friedrich’s voice was calling out to her, but she was of a singular focus.

Gregory was the first to start meeting her halfway, running furiously away from the front door and toward her. Hyacinth naturally followed, her laughter echoing across the grounds. 

Colin came after, but Benedict’s legs were longer, and he quickly overtook Colin. Francesca wasn’t very fast but she was very determined. Eloise cursed loudly, seeing how far behind she was, and came barreling off the steps.

Gregory hit Delilah first, and she brought him into her arms fiercely. Hyacinth attached herself to Delilah’s leg, and
Benedict wrapped his long arms around her and Greggy together. Colin wormed his way around to Delilah’s back, and Francesca came to his right side. Eloise snaked between Benedict and Colin’s sides, trying to get as close to Delilah as she could. 

Delilah did not see Daphne or Anthony, but instead heard them as they joined last.

“Hello, Bridgertons!” Delilah said, her voice muffled.

“Hello!” they all cried.

“Room for another?” came Friedrich’s voice. He was panting from running.

She felt the impact of Friedrich joining them, and they all hummed contentedly. It was good to be home.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Delilah, there is a….development…”

Delilah was standing from the breakfast table, having just finished her eggs and toast. Her husband was already in the backyard playing with the youngsters, Daphne joining them with Auggie. Simon was unable to get away, so it was just the Duchess of Hastings joining them this week. Delilah was excited to spend time with her other half.

She had been the last one to get up from the table, after talking so long with her mother she thought her tongue might fall out of her head. It was remarkable how much there was to say when you hadn’t seen your family in so long. She’d spent the entire night before regaling them all at the dinner table.

“Development?” Delilah asked as she looked over at Anthony. “Whatever do you mean?”

Anthony swallowed. “I have invited a young lady here. With the intention of asking for her hand in marriage. She will spend the day with us today before the rest of the guests arrive tomorrow. And I was hoping….you may pass your judgment on her.”

A year away from Anthony, and here he was…on the verge of marriage!

“Oh, Anthony…I am so pleased!” She rushed over to him, hugging him. “I am delighted to meet her.”

He smiled and nodded. “Good. She is very accomplished. I am not sure how well you two will get on, but I hope for you to be friends.”

Delilah frowned. “Oh, because I am so unaccomplished?”

Anthony nodded, feigning seriousness. “Precisely.”

She smacked his shoulder and then immediately smiled. 

“I missed you so dearly.”

Anthony tucked her into his side, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. “As did I.”

She noticed him checking his pocket watch. It was the same one that he had flung in Prussia, destroying the chandelier. 

“Are they meant to arrive quite soon?”

Anthony nodded, his weight shifting from foot to foot. His hand raked through his hair.

“My god, Anthony, you’re acting as if you are mad. You must really like this woman.”

His expression was a bit strange. “Yes, well, of course.”

“And the name of this mystery siren?” Delilah asked, her hip bumping his own. 

“K….Edwina. Edwina Sharma.”

Strange indeed.

Delilah grabbed her brother’s hand, trying to ground him. He finally looked her in the eye. 

“Anthony, you helped me shine when I needed to most. Now it will be my turn. I will make sure this Edwina is so enamored with you, she has to say yes.”

He smiled and thanked her, but it was not quite of the intensity that was meant for a man in love. 

It wasn’t until the Sharmas arrived that everything began to make sense to Delilah. 

The carriage had arrived, and she and Friedrich had prepared themselves for introductions. They spoke first with Lady Mary and Lady Danbury, who both bowed very low and called Delilah ‘your highness’. It was completely strange to her, as she had insisted the villagers back home refer to her simply as ‘lady’ or ‘miss’ if they had to use her title at all. But here in polite society, titles were everything. 

She noticed Anthony speaking very casually with a young woman, a smile on his face. Delilah thought the woman was absolutely beautiful, and judging by how close the two were, she presumed this must be her brother's paramour. 

“You must be Miss Edwina!” Delilah said, approaching the pair. Edwina, for her part, looked absolutely shocked. 

“No!” Anthony cried. “This is her sister. Miss Kate Sharma . ”

Delilah gave him a horrified look, but corrected course. 

“My apologies, Miss Sharma.”

Kate must have realized her manners because she bowed low. “I am entirely flattered, your highness.”

“This is my husband Friedrich.”

Friedrich bowed and gave a demure ‘hello.’ Since marriage, Friedrich had finally been able to cut out polite small talk. Delilah had grown up mannered, and didn’t mind small talk. Friedrich had spent so much time outside of the realm of manners that it was a bit more of a chore for him. It was one of the many ways they complimented each other. 

“Your highness.” Kate said, the picture of grace. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Edwina.”

Edwina came forward, and Delilah thought she was well mannered and pretty and exceptionally likable. 

Delilah really had thought, though, that Anthony and Kate had had quite a decent amount of chemistry together when they had spoken by themselves. Maybe Delilah was overthinking things. 

Friedrich, however, had given her a look after their encounter with the Sharmas that suggested he felt similarly to her. 

“Pall mall?” Colin asked a short time later, as she and Friedrich were lounging on the couch together, reading the same book. 

Delilah considered, but she was so comfortable in her husband’s arms. Sharing Aubrey Hall with him had been wonderfully fulfilling. She had taken him to see the willow where she’d broken her arm, and they now sat on the very chaise her father had laid her on afterwards. 

“Freddy, pall mall?”

Friedrich kissed her shoulder. “I am not good with organized sport. But I will watch you.”

Colin was still there, grimacing at their display of affection.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. One day you and a certain someone will be like this.”

She of course was talking about Penelope Featherington, though Colin still didn’t know that. 

“I’d rather eat dirty laundry.”

Delilah huffed and stood up. “That isn’t saying much considering how you eat.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Are you playing or not?”

Delilah waved him off. “Yes, yes! I’ll be out shortly.”

Colin’s eyebrows furrowed. “We’re about to play now. Just come with me.”

She wished sometimes that sisters could be allowed one good strangle of a brother’s throat, just to relieve stress. As it was, she and her sisters would have quite a few chances. 

“May I kiss my husband before I go or would you like me to do that while we walk?”

That got him moving. A blush covered his cheeks as he quickly turned away. “You have two minutes!” He roared, heading towards the back gardens. 

So Delilah made the most of those two minutes. 

______________________

 “Let us toss a coin!” Colin cried, his frustration mounting. 

 “Last year we promised to let the youngest pick first!” Eloise huffed, her arms crossing. 

Anthony scowled at everyone much harder than normal.  “We pick based on alphabetical order - it is the precedent.”

Delilah glared. “Well two of us are the letter D so that cannot work!”

They always spent far more time debating the order they would pick mallets than actually picking the mallets themselves. It was a ritual that had become so ingrained that it would not feel quite like a proper game if they did not act that way. 

Daphne sighed, and raised her arms. She was the best of them all, but even she liked to win, so it was surprising to hear her say her next words. “Please, now! The only fair thing to do is to let our invited guests choose their mallets and strike first.”

Being a mother must have been having an effect on her. 

Anthony instantly scooted forward and over to Edwina.  “Please,take your pick Miss Edwina.” 

Delilah watched an anticipation, praying that Edwina would not take the purple. For as long as she had been alive, Delilah had always been purple. 

Edwina chose the blue. Take that, Benedict.

“An excellent choice.” Anthony said smugly. She had not taken the mallet of death, either, which was Anthony’s mallet of choice.

They gestured for Kate to pick next, and Delilah once again prayed for her not to take purple. 

She chose the mallet of death. 

 Eloise said as much out loud, blowing out a breath. Anthony’s face had gone pale. 

Benedict was smirking ear to ear.  “Would you look at that brother?”

Kate seemed to catch on and turned to Anthony. “Is this yours?”

Anthony grimaced.  “Not at all. You’re welcome to it.”

Delilah couldn’t help but to delight in Anthony’s discomfort. This Kate Sharma was quite the pill. 

Colin’s face turned sour.  “You near threatened to beat me with it the last time I touched that -”

“You exaggerate!” Anthony growled, though Delilah remembered Anthony’s voice carrying across the lawn two summers ago as he told Colin in no uncertain terms that if he ever touched that mallet again, he’d wake up with bruises in places one can’t easily find. 

Kate’s smile turned evil. “Are you the superstitious sort? I know some men cannot perform without their familiar tools. Like a child with a blanket.”

Everyone snorted, Delilah most of all. She clasped her hand into Kate’s and gave her an appreciative nod. 

“Oh, I’m staying by her side. She’s quite the jest.”

Anthony ignored Delilah, answering Kate instead.  “I can play perfectly well with any mallet. I wish you the best of luck.”

Eloise had had enough and stomped her foot.  “Are we to stand around deliberating all day or shall we play?”

And play they did. 

Kate was a ruthless player, and was immediately very competitive. Edwina, however, didn’t take to the spirit of the game the same way the Bridgertons did. She seemed to be out of place amongst all of the aggressive energy. 

Delilah watched Anthony very carefully during the game. His gaze kept skewing toward Kate whenever possible. He smiled whenever she celebrated and he thought no one was looking. He looked at Edwina only when it made sense to do so, or when he wanted to be overly touchy with her to suggest his favor. 

Delilah knew exactly what was happening here.

Her turn was coming up, and she was blessed to be particularly close to Anthony’s ball. The two of them were tied, as they typically were. She and Anthony were very evenly matched strategically. 

But Delilah always had ulterior motives. 

When she was thirteen she had been wanting Anthony to buy her a stuffed bear from a shop in town, and had let him win to put him in a good mood before asking. Three summers ago, she had accidentally destroyed his favorite cravat, and so she let him win in order to spare herself the wrath. 

This year, she’d be playing a bit differently. 

When her turn finally came, Freddy began whooping and hollering from his spot with Lady Danbury and Violet. 

“Go wife! You’re doing so well!”

Delilah smiled and blew him a kiss that he caught in his hand and pressed to his cheek. 

“You two seem to be very happy.” Kate said as Delilah lined up her shot. 

“Blissfully so. It’s practically criminal.”

“Hurry up!” Colin said. “I’m tired of you and your husband kissing when we should be playing!”

Delilah rolled her eyes and continued lining up her shot. She pretended as if she was going to shoot through the next wicket, but then at the last moment turned and shot her ball at Anthony’s. She hit it so that his ball shot into a wicket, ricocheted back and rolled down, down, down the hill and out of range.

Anthony’s face had morphed into a look of utter shock so severe, Delilah thought perhaps he was frozen. 

“You did not just do that!” he said. 

“I absolutely just did!” Delilah said laughing. Benedict brought his hand up for her to high five. Kate giggled behind her hand

Even Colin was no longer mad, instead looking at Delilah appreciatively. “I take it back. Kiss your husband as much as you like. That was positively delightful to watch.”

Edwina was next, as alphabetical order dictated. She lined up her shot and hit her ball, and it went farther than any other time she’d hit it, somehow catching up to all the other balls and knocking into Kate’s ball. 

Kate’s ball rolled over and stopped just before the dip of the hill, and for a moment everyone thought it would stop there. Then Kate’s ball rolled down the hill, and followed the path of Anthony’s ball, through the trees and into the waiting mud. 

“Oh my goodness!” Edwina cried. “Kate, I’m so sorry!” 

Kate looked like she was trying very hard not to scream. Or laugh. Or cry. Or all three. 

“It is ok….”she ground out. “It was an accident.”

Edwina placed her mallet into Colin's hand. “I fear the excitement has become too much for me. I think I will retire with the mamas, if that is alright.”

Everyone gave her friendly smiles and nods, and she took her leave to go sit with her mother. 

Kate and Anthony looked at each other, and then Anthony shrugged. “Well, there is nothing else to do but to go and get them.”

Kate nodded. “Then let’s go.”

The Bridgerton siblings watched them walk off, and Delilah shook her head once they were out of sight. 

“Please tell me we are all in agreement about what’s going on here.”

Daphne groaned. “I was scared I was the only one to see it!”

“He is an absolute fool.”” Benedict cried. 

“I knew when she chose the mallet of death.” Colin said. “When did you lot know?”

Daphne said she knew when Kate had celebrated after her first time knocking another ball out of the way. Benedict had figured it out shortly before the game, and delighted in being the first one to find out, until Delilah shared that she knew the moment she saw Kate. 

“No way!” Benedict said. “How so?”

“He was looking at her like she had hung the moon. It was quite obvious.”

He sighed, but accepted defeat. 

“I’m sorry, what are we talking about?” Eloise asked. 

“Our dear brother is intending to marry the wrong Miss Sharma.” Benedict said, tossing his arm around Eloise’s shoulder. 

“Whyever would you think that?”

Everyone groaned. 

“Look,” Delilah said, pulling her siblings into a huddle. “Are we planning to do something about this or what? Anthony helped me find my happy ending, and I fully intend to do the same for him.”

As if she had conjured him out of thin air, Friedrich was joining their circle. “Are we talking about Anthony and Kate? It is quite obvious, no?”

Eloise scoffed and threw her hands up. “Am I quite blind!?”

Benedict put his hand in. “I’m one hundred percent meddling.”

Daphne was next. “He had quite a lot to say about my prospects, so I see this as fair game.”

Colin joined after. “I’m feeling quite devious.”

Friedrich put his hand in. “Anthony is a good man. He deserves love.”

All of Delilah’s siblings gave various versions of “ew’ and ‘gross’ and ‘absolutely not’. 

Delilah looked down at the bottom of the hill. She could just see Anthony reemerging from the woods, his boots stained with mud. Kate was with him, and they were standing much closer than was appropriate, but were not speaking. 

 She had been the sun for quite some time last year.

It was time for Anthony to shine.