Chapter Fourteen: Corruption [Part One]

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"Welcome back. How was your promenade?" Henry greeted the two new arrivals. Lucy deliberately chose to stay silent and eyed Franny curiously.

"It was fine," Franny answered shortly.

Lucy, nosy as she was, could not help but ask, "Did you find out what kept him?"

"He overslept, the whole Bridgerton household is abuzz with wedding preparations," Franny replied without turning a hair. She did not like lying to the Granvilles, but she was intent on keeping Benedict's secret. Not to mention that a duel could also count as a wedding preparation, provided that it had incited the wedding, couldn't it? One should not get frittered away with the terminology.

Lucy raised one of her perfect eyebrows, suspecting that something was awry, "Yes, I am sure that Daphne's brother had his hands full with the preparations. Although," Lucy's face rearranged into a sly grin, "We do know not that Mr. Bridgerton has a great taste in flowers."

Franny stared at her with a puzzled grimace.

"Speaking of which, these have arrived for you, Lucy dearest," Henry called out from the drawing room and Mrs. Granville walked in to examine the enormous display of purple irises.

"Indeed, his taste is impeccable," Lucy noted with a pleased smile, putting her petite nose into the flower.

"And that," Henry pointed towards a small package, "is for you, niece dearest."

"Hmm," Franny approached the silk-covered box and turned the card to read it:

To Franny, to apologise for my tardiness. I inferred she would find it to her liking as it is my sister's favourite, she always monopolises it. Also, a kind reminder that we Bridgertons don't like to share.

Benedict

Confused, Franny opened the lid to reveal a set of Belgian bonbons in a variety of milk and white chocolates decorated with light pink dried rose petals.

"Hmm, Mr. Bridgerton sent hand-made chocolate. He is definitely a keeper," Lucy remarked, stealing one of the bonbons and uttering a sound of approval as she ate it.

"I don't understand. Why is it signed by Benedict?" Franny pondered, perplexed.

"Whatever are you talking about?" came the reply from her aunt.

"Well, it is Collin's handwriting, the same as it was for the daisies, the letter and the red roses."

Lucy broke into a peal of merry, tinkling laughter, making Henry smile widely and Franny huff.

"You ninny, were you under the impression that Colin Bridgerton was sending you the daisies?"

"Well, the handwriting,"

"I don't know about the handwriting," Lucy cut her off, "But it is obvious that if any of the Bridgerton brothers cared to figure out your favourite flowers, it would be Benedict. The roses, cliched and scenic, were obviously sent by his younger brother, but the daisies are definitely Benedict's doing."

Franny's jaw fell in an unladylike manner and she was unable to mutter a sound.

"Do you ever wonder how she can be so discerning and oblivious at the same," Lucy inquired her husband.

"I believe we have both benefited greatly so far from her selective attention," Henry replied.

"You know, I am standing right here," Franny muttered, meddling with the card in her hand.

"Franny dearest, your Uncle and I have been talking," Lucy initiated a conversation over the dinner table while taking a small bite of artichoke.

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