his sapphire • anthony bridgerton

thirty-six • silence

•••
"Yes, she looks for me...
good.
Let her look for me.
•••

Grosvenor Square, June 1814

To say Anthony was angry when he saw his wife moving her clothes from their bedroom to another would be a severe understatement.

He stood at the top of the stairs, watching as she passed by him with piles of clothes in her hands. "Nola." He called, but she did not react. She continued her path to his sisters old bedroom. "Nola!" His temper had become short, knowing she was intentionally ignoring him.

Once she walked past again, he called for her once more, finally losing it and stalking up behind her, blocking her from leaving the bedroom once again. "Answer me!" The booming voice had not made Nola react the way he hoped, for he was only met with the blankest of stares. "What are you doing?" He frantically moved to her, never losing eye contact. "What is going on?" The lack of words from his wife was sending him off the rails, he grabbed her arm, pulling her into him. "God damnit!" He begged, "answer me."

She pulled out of his grasp, pushing passed him through the door of his room. "Nola, stop!" He called, racing to catch up with her. "Please!" She turned around. "Please... just," he gulped, seeing no emotion had appeared on her face. "What has happened?"

She refused to be fooled by his false worrisome persona, for she knew he used it to assure he always got his way. "Anthony, leave me be." Before he could run to her, she walked into the bedroom, slamming the door before he could enter.

He had frantically tried to push open the door, but she had locked it. "Nola... open the door, or I will break it down myself!" She knew he didn't have it in him to bust down the wood. It definitely wasn't that she thought he was weak- that would be a lie- it was because Anthony feared damaging anything that resided within the estate. "Do not make me give you a countdown!" She could tell he had begun panicking.

She merely walked over to the vanity, staring at the door through the mirror, seeing it move a little bit every time he shook the handle. She was amused that he was using tactics a father would use on their daughter, but she just sat back in the chair.

"Don't be a fool, child. Open the damn door." Her eyes widened as she recognized the voice she hadn't heard in years. Her heart began to race as she quickly turned in her seat, catching the figure standing at the entryway to the closet. "I did not teach you to disrespect a man like this!" The figure exclaimed.

"How could you have taught me anything? You're dead!" She yelled, moving as far away as possible.

"Nola?" Anthony's voice had quieted down, pressing his ear against the door once he heard her speak.

"I don't understand... you died." She began hyperventilating.

"Women who mistreat their husbands deserve to be punished," her father explained, slowly easing his way to her. With each footstep, her heart beat faster.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, throwing the hairbrush on the dresser in his direction, but how could she hurt someone who wasn't there. "Please," she begged, slowly falling to the ground. "Go away!" She sobbed, hiding him from her view.

"Nola!" Anthony began banging on the door, knowing his wife was terrified- he could hear her cries for help. "I'm coming in!"

"A man should not have to work this hard to gain attention from his wife- do you understand me?" She could sense he was right in front of her, as she shook shaking violently, she could sense his cold hands grabbing her wrist, attempting to force her to look at him.

"No!" She screamed, "Anthony!"

Anthony finally barged through the door, and everything that had been haunting her seemed to vanish. Without a second thought, he ran to her horrified frame, pulling her into his chest. "Sweetheart..." her heart was racing alarming quickly, he picked her up and walked to the bed within their bedroom, leaving the room which caused all the issues in the first place.

He laid her on the mattress, falling next to her on the comforter. She trembled with fear, but seemed to calm a significant amount since he wrapped his arms around her. He wasn't sure what happened in that room, but her screams were enough to shake anyone to their core.

He ran his fingers through her curls, pressing his lips against her jawline. "I promised you, Nola..." he began, nuzzling his face into her neck, trying to be as close as possible. "I promised you that as long as I am here, nothing will ever hurt you." He pulled her further into his chest. "I never intend to break that promise."