Bridgerton [x Reader]

☞Behind the Bushes

"Such a pity," sight your younger sister, Margaret, delicately playing with the piece of plum cake on the silver plate in front of her. "Townes would have been such a good catch."

Your sister has been going on about the ball for days, never seeming to find a way to shut up. Her sickly-looking, small figure was what attracted men to her, ergo her endless and pointless talks about them. This particular Lord has enjoyed his time with her a little too much, urging your whole family to believe that he would proceed with courting her.

Apparently not.

"He was so smitten by me, mama!"

"Of course, he was, dear," your mother reassured her.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" She blurted after a while, Townes being forgotten immediately. She dropped her fork and leaned over to your mother. How Margaret managed to do so in a tight corset, you didn't know. "The Earl of Huntingdon is supposed to be engaged to Lady Tridewall."

It perked your mother's interest, she placed her teacup back on the flowery plate, clutching Margaret's hand dramatically. You rolled your eyes.

"That cannot be true," she muttered, "I spoke with Delphi just yesterday."

Best in your ability, you tried to ignore them. The Society being the object of your many headaches and the center of their world.

You didn't hate the Society per se, only slightly disliked when your mother and sister discussed it. There was something in the color of their voice, perhaps being the consequence of drinking so much tea.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to sink into the conversation your two and only brothers held, knowing well enough that whatever they tried to say was going to be worth your while. "Good God. I might as well go back to war."

And you were correct.

Your eldest brother, the Viscount and the man whose house you occupied for the morning, laughed, "Half of London has been talking about you for the last month."

"It's true," you piped in cheerfully, looking between the two. "Even Whistledown can't keep silent about your return, Eliot."

The young man groaned, ignoring the snappy tone of warning from your mother. "Benedict warned me this would happen."

"And you should have listened to him brother," James retorted, smirking against his glass.

At that moment, the two circled back to the Bridgertons. As their close friends, they both had a lot to discuss in their absence. There were no dark reveals, or talking behind their back, more so simply discussing what their friends were up to.

You didn't know what was worse.

Hearing your mother and sister discuss society haughtily, or your brothers talk about the man you had been spending two secretive weeks together.

Suddenly not even what they had to say was fun.

And so, the rest of the meal passed in a blur. Not another bite of food could be forced down your throat, no matter how much you tried. You could hardly remain still in your seat, the need to run to your room and drown in self sorrow overwhelming you. It was when everyone put down their forks that you had sprung to your feet and disappeared into your room.

Your mothers plead couldn't be ignored on an usual, but having a brother returned safely from his travels was all she needed at the moment. God knew she was hovering over Eliot with a list of eligible ladies he could marry.

Most of whose last names started with a B.

There was no doubt in your mind that he scrunched his nose, waved her away because he saw the ladies the same way he saw you.