his sapphire • anthony bridgerton

three • the gentlemen's agreement

•••
"Oh, good god."
•••

Grosvenor Square, 1813

"I saw your gaze on her, Anthony. All of England could have." Benedict pushed, laughing at his elder brother. "No error. Such a stunning woman, the cousin of your dearest friend. I can only think of several ways this can end badly for you."

Anthony did not hold back the deathly glare intended for his brother. "Foolish."

"How so, Anthony? She is to be courted, unless you plan to do something about it." He could see the wheels turning, and released another chuckle. "Pitiful. You plan to snatch your oldest friends family member? Or do you just plan to defile her like you did that lovely soprano."

"Another thing that does not concern you, Benedict. Now, Nola is a stunning girl, who will become a lovely wife. She requires attention, and stability, that of which I cannot give. Not when my heart longs for Sienna." Benedict's eyes widened.

"Then you must let her attention go. She is here to marry a gentleman, Anthony. Not to be messed around with by a common rake." Colin grumbled.

"And what of this concerns you, Colin? You're still merely a child." Anthony tried to hit him where it hurts. A skill he's had since he was a child- managing to irritate his siblings.

"I'm just implying, my eyes are also on Lady Addington, brother, and if you have no plan to propose, then I might as well get to know her." Anthony stared at him, a look of deep pain in his eyes. "Anthony, you could be perfectly right. Maybe she would be a great wife, and I have an interest, what is to hold me back from courting her?"

Benedict let out the loudest laugh, a mix of discomfort and amusement of the situation arising in front of him. "You are nothing but a boy, Colin. Lady Addington requires a man. Not a child." Anthony huffed, returning to his book work.

"Then we shall see then, shall we, brother?"

As complications arise in the Bridgerton estate, Nola remains unmoved by any of her possible suitors.

"It was a pleasure, Lord Berbrooke." She sighed, wanting nothing more than the hostile man to leave. Oliver watched carefully, ready to pounce at any inconvenience. Simon, however, sent dagger toward the old geezer who he knew was making his cousin uncomfortable. Taking the hint, Sloan wandered up to her sister, lightly applying pressure to her forehead.

"My dear, you're burning up. My apologies, Lord Berbrooke. I must tend to her." Grabbing her by her forearm, Sloan led Nola out of the room.

"I think I have found the one, gentlemen." Nigel exclaimed, extending his hand to the Duke.

"I'm afraid I have to... disagree." Simon stated, no sign of sarcasm in sight. "You merely are not what I'm looking for for my dear cousin. I seek perfection, and you, are merely a common twit." Nigel's eyes widened, but Oliver released a muted chuckle. Trying to appear as gentleman like as possible. "That may be your ticket to leave, Berbrooke."

The lord looked at him through narrowed eyes, "how dare you," he was cut off by Oliver.

"You may leave." He stated through gritted teeth. Leaving in a huff, the door slammed. "The audacity. The mere title giving him so much... ego?"

Simon thought, he had truly been unimpressed with every man who showed up to his door step. Maybe it was time to set something up himself. "I promised her a perfect match, Olly. It appears none of these men could fulfill that." He sighed, beginning to pace the room. "It appears I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"How so, Simon?"

"The Bridgerton's."

"The Bridgerton's?" Oliver uttered, confused. "What of them?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, we all saw it. An instant connection. Oliver, a planned proposal, and dear Nola will have it all set. The life of a Viscountess. A large family, not to mention; with a man I trust my very life to. He will give her affection, children, and a home. I can count on Anthony."

"Simon, are you sure you are to do this? Would you consider asking Nola first?"

"She knows I only have her best interest at heart. Anthony will give a perfect life, Oliver. I shall bring it up to him." Simon explained, grabbing his coat off the chair. "At the gentleman's club."

"And if he declines?"

"There's three, Oliver. We can make this work."

•••

"Ah, old friend!" Simon exclaimed, finding Anthony near the window. "Good news!"

"How so, Hastings?" Anthony questioned, a look of confusion etched on his face.

"I'm sure you remember my cousin, Nola?"

"Lady Addington? Of course, I do."

"Well, I have a proposition to make. Now, hear me out, friend. I promised Nola that I would find her the very best; a man to honor her, give her children, a perfect life, and possibly love. Dear friend, I trust you with my life, and I would like to inquire on the possibility of you taking my cousins hand?" Simon hated asking. He knew Anthony's history, but he needed security for Nola, and he only could expect it from a Bridgerton.

"You mean... propose? Simon..."

"Anthony, please understand my intentions. I saw how you two were. Ms. Danbury would even agree- a perfect match. I know about the opera singer, Anthony. I'm willing to keep it hid, as long as the station does not defile, or enter the head of my cousin." Anthony pondered, thinking of all the possibilities he could have with Nola, a respected young woman, at his side. "Anthony, she's nineteen. Not even a full grown woman yet. I stated my trust for you to not corrupt her mind."

"And if I must decline, Hastings?" He folded his hands on the table, watching as Simons eyes narrowed.

"If you were to... decline? I suppose the offer could move to Benedict. Or even Colin?" Without even a second beat.

"Yes."

"What?" A look of shock from the sudden outburst grew on Simon's face.

"I will propose, Simon. But you must give me time. I can not promise a love match," he was cut off.

"I didn't expect that of you."

"I can not promise it, but I can attempt. Your cousin will be cared for." He said with pain in his heart.

"Anthony...?" Simon tried to reason.

"My attention will purely rest on Lady Addington. I will not disappoint."