Blinded Fools | Anthony Bridgeton

Chapter sixteen

Elizabeth woke up to sounds of a crackling fire, her head pounded instantly as her eyes adjusted to the room.  It was dark outside and there was a smell of pine and mint in the air, looking down she noticed she laid on a reasonably large bed with four posts on each corner. The bedding was a dark green pattern, she most definitely was not in her bedroom.  She had also changed clothes into a night gown, who had changed her?

Panic eventually washing over her as she swung her legs off the bed and her bare feet hit the ground. Her head clouding her mind, not remembering the events before falling asleep. Elizabeth tried her best to remember anything after the incident in the maze, but she could only remember trying to convince Simon to marry Daphne and stop this duel in the carriage home from the ball. 

She reached for the day robe that hung on the wardrobe beside the bed, she quickly slipped on the dress over her night gown and looked for the nearest weapon to protect herself. It was dead of night outside so it must have been at least a few hours since the ball. Elizabeth clung to the fire poker from the roaring fireplace and then ventured quietly outside the room, she entered a long hallway that overlooked downstairs to a foyer with a winding elegant staircase.

Where was she?

Hearing impending footsteps that echoed from the other side of the hallway that lend around a corner she panicked and opened the door to the right before slipping in and closing the door behind her, back facing the door she held tightly her firestick and drew a deep breath in aid to ease her thudding head.  Opening her eyes once more after hearing the footsteps pass her outside the door, she surveyed the room.

Another roaring fire crackled with a seating area and an armchair that faced away from the door, behind the chair was a small table with a decantated bottle of alcohol and a half-drunk glass. She could see a hand idly hung off the side of the arm rest, she studied the hand for a few minutes and decided the mystery hand's owner was asleep.

Elizabeth creeped her way around the armchair until she was face to face with the mystery man.

Anthony Bridgerton.

Shock and confusion boiled up with her stomach as she continues to hold her firestick, her knuckles white from the grip.

"Lord Bridgerton?!" She announced.

Anthony jolted awake to the sound of her voice and met with Elizabeth who was looming over him with a face of shock, his eyes travelled the length of her body down to her hand and her 'weapon'.

"What on earth are you doing with that" he groggily asked sitting up straight and meeting her eyes once more.

"Where am I? How are you here! And WHO CHANGED ME!" She shouted instantly regretting it as her head pulsed at the noise making her dizzy, she began to sway and quickly Anthony stood up and led her to his armchair so that she may sit. 

"Careful, don't exsert yourself." He hushed crouching down to eye level and went to move a lock of hair from her face.

Elizabeth wacked his hand away and glared. "Don't tell me what to do my lord."

"What happened?"

Anthony frowned with concern. "You have a concussion, you hit your head pretty badly when falling from the horse."

"What horse? When did I fall?" She questioned.

"You don't remember?"

"The last thing I remember was the ride home from the ball this evening" She shook her head, all at once she looked helpless and small to Anthony. All he wished to do was comfort her but knew she would not wish for that.

"Elizabeth. The Ball was a day ago"

She could feel the panic rising within her once more, her memory had elapsed a whole day?! "You truly do not remember the duel?" he frowned. Had she truly not remembered the past twenty-four hours? He thought. She shook her head in pure shock, no longer able to produce words.

"You do not remember getting home? Or Daphne and Colin collecting you before dawn to stop the duel?" Or our conversation in the garden where I confessed my intentions, he thought. He did not dare bring up. She didn't remember and from the look of distaste Elizabeth held when she looked at him maybe it was the best that he did not remind her of the sentiments that seemly where such an insult.

He sighed in defeat retreating to another armrest. "You arrived at the duel just as my pistol went off, spooking your horse. You fell, the doctor has advised me that you have a concussion. We brought you back to here to rest, your aunt believes that you are staying at Bridgerton house, Daphne is down the hall asleep, and our mother believes she is at Danbury house under the pretences that you both were too excited to sleep after the engagement news."

"Who's engagement?"

"Daphne and Simon's" She let an out a breath of relief. "So, no duel."

"No duel" he confirmed reaching for the half empty glass between them and downed the contents.

"You still haven't advised me where we are?" she crossed her arms.

He smirked. Regaining his confidence.

"Currently you are in my bedroom" Elizabeth shot up.

"YOUR BEDROOM?!" she looked around inspecting the room in more detail, there was an extremely large bed at the other end of the room draped in a rich navy-blue throw. In the far corner stood a large mirror with a gold detail curved around the edges, beside the mirror a dark wooden wardrobe loomed in the room and hanging from the door was an evening jacket. The jacket Anthony had been wearing the night before.

"This is highly improper. I'd like to go home, NOW" She huffed in defiance.

"It is 2 in the morning; you do not expect me to wake my servants surely" he laughed. The inferable man how was he laughing.

"If people found out!" She paced.

"No one will, that is why you are here. We could not bring you to Groverness square without Whistledown finding out. Daphne was the one to suggest it" he raised hands in defence. "This is my bachelor lodging; we are in Pimlico Gardens"

"Right, well. I am going back to bed. This is all too much" She shook her head and brushed her day robe which Daphne must have collected and turned to walk out.

Anthony clamed up standing very abruptly. "You truly don't remember anything. Anything at all.  Nothing?" he asked stepping forward.

She sighed in annoyance. "No, now if you excuse my lord- "

"Not even when you got home?" he pushed.

"No, nothing."

"Not when you retired? Surely you – "She interrupted Anthony was a huff.

"Goodnight Bridgerton" She snapped before storming out the room. How that man could insight such feeling from her.

Anthony slumped back to his chair in defeat. It was for the best she did not remember. She did not love him, and she would never accept his hand. This way he had evaded a world of rejection, no. He thought, he had convinced himself it was a relief.