Chapter Six

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The string orchestra swelled as the couple waltzed. Anthony had adverted eye contact throughout most of the dance, which left Loren feeling annoyed. She didn't understand why he was behaving in such a brooding manner. Of course, he did brood quite a bit, but today it was more than usual, which caused Loren to be concerned for the eldest Bridgerton. The pair continued to waltz in silence until Loren couldn't take it anymore.

"What is the matter?" She asked softly, causing Anthony to meet her gaze, "There is nothing wrong." He said simply, not wanting to draw any attention to the real situation. Loren could see right past him, "Anthony, I have known you my whole life, that is twenty-eight years. I can tell when something is bothering you." Anthony glanced around the ballroom. All eyes were on them, and he did not want to make a scene, "Might we discuss this later? I do not wish to argue with you in front of the entire ton." He said in a hushed tone. "Why do you believe we will argue? I am simply concerned and am trying to look out for you." 

"I do not need you to look out for me. I am the man of the house, and I am quite capable of taking care of myself." Anthony snapped. Loren rolled her eyes, stepping away from the man, "Excuse me, My Lord, but I am feeling quite parched. I think I will go and fetch a glass of lemonade." She sassed, curtsying dramatically before gracefully storming away from the dance floor, leaving Anthony stranded, a dumbfounded look on his face. 

The ton was shocked, but Loren did not care. She was aggravated! Why was Anthony so stubborn, and brooding all the time? It was so infuriating that sometimes she wondered how she had been able to stand him for so long. Loren was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and ran straight into someone. Loren lost her balance, and stumbled backward, only to be caught by a pair of muscular arms. "Are you alright?" A voice asked as he steadied her. Loren nodded, smoothing out her gown, "Yes, thank you-" She finally glanced at the man, recognizing him immediately, "Your Grace!" She curtsied, to which the Duke shook his head, "There is no need for that Miss, I do not want any attention drawn to me." He stated. Loren straightened herself out, "Of course, I apologize." The Duke gave the woman a small smile, "And you are..?" 

"Loren Smith." She said. The man's eyes lit up with recognition, "You wouldn't know a Bri-"

"Basset? Basset!" 

The Duke glanced in the direction of the voice, a large smile gracing his face, "Bridgerton! Come here old friend!" He exclaimed as he grasped Anthony's outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake.  Anthony glanced up at the taller man, "I heard news of your Father-Deuce take it, you are no longer Basset." Anthony rambled on, despite the Duke's protests, "Hastings! The Duke of Hastings, now known for evermore. The Duke of Hastings, is it?" With a tight lipped smile, the Duke nodded. Anthony's gaze flickered from the Duke to Loren, "Hastings, this is my friend Loren Smith." "Yes, Bridgerton, we have already been introduced. And this is the same girl whom you'd ramble on about at Oxford, correct?" Loren looked at Anthony, a surprised look on her face. Anthony ignored the Duke's question, "Loren, Hastings and I know each other from our days at Oxford, days we shall not soon forget." 

Loren only nodded, examining the Duke. He was quite handsome. He was tall, dark skinned with deep brown eyes and dark hair. A nice stubble covered his jaw, and it complimented his looks overall. When Anthony had told her about the Duke, she hadn't expected him to look like this. 

"Hastings, we shall need to meet properly. I expect to see you at our club." Anthony insisted. "Indeed," The Duke responded, bowing his head, "Evening Bridgerton, Miss Smith, it was a pleasure to meet you." Loren curtsied in response, "You too, Your Grace." And with that, the Duke took his leave. Anthony said not a word to Loren, immediately dropping the friendly facade he had put on in front of the Duke, but he motioned for her to follow him. And without an excuse not too, she did. 

The couple met up with Daphne and Violet, who was speaking to her daughter, "Daphne, I believe Lord Wetherby is looking for you to dance." The girl's face lit up, "Is he?" Anthony cut into the conversation, "If only it weren't time for us to retire." Violet looked at her eldest son, a strange look on her face, "Daphne is anything but weary. I will stay with her." Daphne smiled at her Mother, "That would be lovely." 

But Anthony was not giving up. "Daphne... there is nary a gentleman here who would not take your hand. You must think about this. The most perfect thing to do now is not to dance, but to leave them all wanting more. If anyone knows how this works, it is your eldest brother." Loren rolled her eyes at Anthony's words, awaiting Daphne's response. 

Surprisingly, Daphne sided with the man, "Perhaps he is right." A smile of victory flickered across his lips as he extended his arm toward Daphne, before turning his gaze to Loren, "Will you be joining us?" He asked, secretly wishing that she would. Loren thought a moment, before making her decision, "I think I shall stay. I must find Benedict, for I believe he owes me a dance, considering he made me deal with you all night." She said, sass laced in her words. Anthony's expression wavered slightly at the woman's words, but he held his composure as he watched the woman turn around and walk away, in search of the second eldest Bridgerton.

***

Penelope Featherington stood near the wall, clad in a bright yellow gown. She watched as Loren stormed away from the group of Bridgerton's, attempting to conceal her grin. She had been keeping her eye on the couple, and now, Lady Whistledown would have some real gossip to write about. 


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