Chapter Text
Summer had been unusually reluctant to arrive that year. Most days were swallowed by grey skies and persistent rain, with only fleeting moments of sunshine breaking through. So when the long-awaited sun finally made its appearance, it felt like an invitation to savour every moment of warmth. After all, in England, one could never trust the weather to stay kind for long.
Sophie Bridgerton had barely stepped over the threshold of Hastings House when her sister-in-law, the Duchess of Hastings, appeared with a warm smile and a change of plans.
“Sophie, darling, I’ve decided there will be no tea indoors today,” Daphne announced, eyes sparkling with excitement. “We’re going for a walk in the park with the children. It’s far too lovely a day to waste inside.”
Sophie blinked in surprise, still adjusting from her journey. “A walk in the park? But I’m not sure I can carry Charlie for that long. He’s getting quite heavy,” she admitted, thinking of her four-month-old son who was fast outgrowing her arms for such excursions.
“Nonsense,” Daphne replied smoothly, not missing a beat. “He’ll be perfectly fine in the baby carriage alongside Caroline. There’s plenty of room. She’s so small, they’ll fit beautifully together.”
As if on cue, a footman rolled in the baby carriage. The two women peered inside to find a peacefully sleeping Caroline, Daphne’s six-week-old daughter. Her little face was serene, oblivious to the world around her.
“Here, let me take him,” Daphne offered, gently reaching out for her nephew. Sophie handed Charlie over, watching as Daphne cooed at him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“Now Charlie, you be good,” Daphne said with a smile, carefully settling him next to his younger cousin in the carriage. The two babies, though different in size, looked snug and content together.
“You know, they almost look like twins,” Daphne mused, glancing between her daughter and nephew.
“Apart from the fact that Charlie’s a fair bit larger,” Sophie laughed, but she couldn’t deny the familial resemblance. “Well, they are both Bridgertons, after all.”
Daphne nodded in agreement, her expression softening with affection.
“Mama!” The sound of excited footsteps echoed down the stairs as Auggie and Belinda, Daphne’s two eldest children, came rushing into the room, attaching themselves to either side of their mother. Their bright faces were full of energy and anticipation.
“Can we see the swans?” Auggie asked eagerly, eyes wide with hope.
“Ducks!” Belinda corrected, her voice just as insistent, but her priorities clearly different.
“Of course,” Daphne said with a soft chuckle, always indulgent of her children’s excitement. She looked up at Nanny Parkes, who stood nearby, observing the scene with a gentle smile. “Nanny, I believe we’ll manage quite well on our own. Why don’t you take the afternoon off?”
Nanny Parkes, who had been with the family for several years, nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Your Grace. That would be most appreciated.”
It was well known among the household staff that the Duchess of Hastings adored her children and took any chance she could to spend time with them. The nanny felt fortunate to work in a household where the mother’s hands-on presence was not only welcomed but encouraged.
“James, Davis,” Daphne called to the two footmen standing by, “if you could bring the baby carriage outside, we’ll be ready to go.”
The footmen immediately set about preparing for their outing, and within moments, the family was ready to step into the sunshine. As they made their way outside, Sophie marvelled at how natural and effortless Daphne made it all seem. Despite her duties as a duchess, she was first and foremost a mother. It was clear that her children adored her, and the easy, loving way she interacted with them was a testament to that bond.
“They are going to be filthy,” Daphne remarked with a sigh, watching as Auggie and Belinda darted across the sunlit grass. Belinda took a tumble, but Auggie quickly helped her up, both of them laughing as they resumed their playful chase.
“Grass stains are a maid’s worst nightmare,” Daphne continued, shaking her head. “And my children have a special talent for acquiring them.”
“Maybe you should catch them before they transform into little green monsters,” Sophie suggested with a laugh.
“They already are monsters,” Daphne replied with a smile. Letting go of the baby carriage, she gave a quick glance at Sophie. “I suppose I’ll need to rescue them before the grass devours them.”
As Daphne took off toward her children, Sophie took charge of the carriage, gently rolling it to a nearby bench. She settled down, taking a moment to adjust the blanket over Charlie, who was sleeping soundly. Caroline, however, had a firm grip on the shared blanket, tiny hands refusing to relinquish her side to her cousin. Sophie chuckled softly, gently tugging it back over her son.
The park was lively, full of families enjoying the rare sunshine. Children’s laughter filled the air, governesses keeping a close eye on their charges as they frolicked in the warm afternoon. Sophie felt content, the simple joy of watching the world pass by filling her with peace.
That peace was disrupted when something caught her eye—a woman in a dark grey dress, standing at the edge of the path. The woman’s brown hair, streaked with grey, was tucked neatly under a maid’s cap. But it was her eyes that unsettled Sophie the most. The woman was staring directly at her, her gaze unbroken and intense.
Sophie’s heart skipped. She looked around, wondering if the woman was perhaps staring at someone else. But no—there was no one nearby. Just Sophie, the baby carriage, and the woman’s unyielding gaze.
As the woman moved closer, Sophie felt a strange pull in her chest. There was something familiar about her face, though Sophie couldn’t quite place it. The way her eyes shifted from a warm toffee to a deep chocolate reminded Sophie of her own eyes. Benedict often described them that way. It wasn’t just the colour, though—it was the shape, the expression. There was something unsettlingly familiar about this stranger, as if she belonged in a dream or a faded memory.
The woman finally stopped in front of her, and Sophie felt herself freeze. Her heart pounded as the woman’s lips parted, her voice soft but sure.
“Sophia?”