CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS [BRIDGERTON]

two.

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𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬.

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PRESENT DAY 

Dear sister, 

I hope this letter finds you in good health and relief that I am very much still alive and kicking. I am sorry I was unable to send a letter to you for two months. I pray that you did not lose your mind worrying about me. How is Alice? Is she well in  Europe or is she still dreaming about castles and princes? 

I have some frustrations to share with you, dear sister. I have done well in my training and I am the finest marksman in my unit yet I have not made officer in my 15 months of service. However, there is a duke in our unit who has made colonel but he is as scared as a feline in front of a hound. I swear, sister, these dukes and lords will be the death of me! The colonel made us retreat where I could very well say we could have taken on those French soldiers based on my thorough assessment. Believe me when I tell this, Gussie, you have balls bigger than him! 

Have you written anything? Those little poems you include in your stories bring joy and laughter ─ not only to me ─ but also to my fellow soldiers. I wish you could have published your novel. Tell me, sister, is high society too dull for your liking? I'm sure you envy my thrilling journey of serving our country. 

They are moving my unit to Spain. I will try my best to write to you next month as not to be the cause of your death. (But, that would be amusing too.) Send Alice my warmest regards when you write your letter to her. 

Gussie, I hear our papa has gotten sick. Please find some forgiveness in your heart to visit him. You are still his most treasured jewel. 

Sincerely,
Albert 

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Nimble fingers touched the round surface of the globe as Augusta idly spun it for the fifth time that night with her brother's letter splayed out next to it. She wanted to see just how geographically far Spain was from Britain and it was a great distance. Sighing sadly, she leaned back into her chair and wondered what her sister was doing as of the moment. With a great amount of time spent in solitude, Augusta had found a number of things to think about but none of them were ever about her almost novel. 

As a governess, Augusta always felt like an outsider but not in a horrid way where the Bridgerton family purposely excluded her from their activities. The family was warm and kind and always invited her to have meals with them. 

The first time she ate a meal with them was when she was in her second week. Augusta found it odd how the servants were also pointedly coming to her needs as she sipped her soup because she was like them in a sense where she also had to work. She was simply stuck in-between the bridge of employer and employee ─ she was not superior enough to be served nor was she inferior to the level of a servant. Augusta decided it was better to dine by herself. That was how she spent most of her nights anyway as she sat in the schoolroom with a blank paper in front of her and her pen in a tempting manner. She stared at the objects in disgust as if they just mocked her for her lack of writing in the last year. 

"I see why you spend most of your time here, Aggie." 

Augusta turned her chair to scowl at the culprit who had interrupted the serenity in her empty schoolroom. "Oh, you are here." 

"I beg of you to not sound disappointed. I might think you loathe me." 

She watched as Benedict walked towards her until he was standing next to her chair, looking down at her brother's letter. "A letter from your suitor?" 

"My brother actually." She told him as she folded the letter and tucked it in her journal. "He is fighting in the war. I would have gone with him to fight too but the rules say that it is not lady-like to shoot our enemies." 

He clicked his tongue. "Ah. For what it is worth, I think you would make an excellent soldier."

"I know."

It was odd how Augusta did not hesitate to share this piece of information to Benedict. Even if he was the very bane of her existence with his mischievous smile every time he followed her when she would stomp away and his revolting pet name, she applauded how he took her jabs aimed at him with good heart unlike most gentlemen who would have fired her with the words she had said to him on her very first day. She found comfort that Benedict probably did not care and would soon forget all these pointless details of some woman who worked for them. 

"I did not know you had a brother." 

"There is a lot of things you do not know about me." She took in his attire ─ a cream colored waistcoat & a pair of fancy breeches. "Are you elated attend the Danbury Ball to start off this season, Mr. Bridgerton?" 

Benedict matched her smirk, his arm resting on the back of her chair. "Why? Are you despaired at the fact I might meet someone more clever than you are?" 

Scoffing, Augusta shook her head. "I am not. I would be delighted if a lady would just come and get you off of my hair." 

"Lies. All lies." 

Augusta stood up from her seat in search for a book in the schoolroom and it was possibly going to be one she had read a few hundred times already. This was merely an act; she would often sneak into the unused schoolroom of the boys once everyone was asleep and pocket a book or two then quietly slip them back to their places after a few days. No one was the wiser. 

"Aggie, are you really interested in reading those books?"

Her fingers tenderly ran over the spine of Elegant Extras. "I am. Why do you ask?"

"I have seen you read them more times than you have scolded me about frightening you." Unknown to Benedict, her lips had quirked up into a miniscule smile. "Here." She dropped the smile and turned her body to him in time to catch whatever he threw at her. Augusta opened her palm to find a key. 

She held up the key with her brows raised. "Let me make a guess. . .you have given me the key to your heart?" 

Chuckling, Benedict shook his head and slipped on his dark coat. "Soon, my dearest Aggie, but that key is going to help you keep your job." He donned his tophat and added. "Mama is not happy about replacing the lock to our schoolroom for the sixth time."

"I do not ─ " She was out of words; she had made sure to be discreet. As a tint of blush crept up on her cheeks, Benedict tipped his hat to her and wished her a good evening.