Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its respective owners. Not me. Just in case you didn't know.
Author's Note: Hello, there!
I recently finished Two Lives and in light of my current addiction to historical romances, I thought I'd whip up something with Brick and Blossom! I was little disheartened to see only three reviews on my last update... I didn't think it was that bad.
Anyways, I'm not really sure where I want to go with this or even if I want to continue it since I'm so ridiculously busy. But I hope you enjoy the beginning and there might just be more!
This is a historical romance set in regency England. I'm too lazy to research facts and all that, so sorry if I'm completely misinformed about the historical background. I'm really just going off of the historical romances I've read in the past.
Anyhoo, enjoy!
...
The resplendent redhead pushed back a stray lock of copper hair absentmindedly as she knit her eyebrows in concentration. Her nimble fingers darted back and forth as she skillfully pressed her needle into the piece of cloth before her. Embroidery was one of her more socially acceptable hobbies and it always seemed to have a calming effect on the noblewoman.
Blossom let her thought drift to the man she would soon marry. While nothing was official yet, the kind and intelligent Archduke Dexter had always held her in high regard, never missing out on the chance to complement her or ask her hand for a dance. He paid a partisan attention to her and all of England was well aware who the next Archduchess of Cornwall would be. While not cold and calculating like many of her noble counterparts, Blossom knew that a formal proposal would happen soon and her heart soared with excitement. Many chased after titles and wealth, and while Dexter had both, Blossom was only interested with his considerate heart and expanse of knowledge that he was surely eager to share. In a day and age when money and connections determined marriages, Blossom was elated to be a part of a love match.
Perhaps it was premature to call what they shared 'love', but she cared for Dexter and those feelings would surely blossom into the real thing once they were married.
The beautiful redhead couldn't contain a smile and lowered her long lashes, focusing her unusually coral eyes on the silk cloth she was embroidering. At twenty-one, Blossom was an intelligent, quick-witted woman with a heart of gold and as the oldest daughter of John Utonium, Duke of Cambridge, she had a bright future ahead of her. It was absolutely delightful!
Her fluttering thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as her two younger sisters came dashing into the drawing room. Blossom looked up at them curiously, but seeing their distraught and angry faces, her heart fell. Her eyebrows crinkled as she examined them, trying to discern what had happened.
"Girls, are you alright?" the redhead asked her brunette and blonde sisters gently.
"Blossom, are you alright?" the youngest sister, effulgent blonde Bubbles, asked in an uncharacteristically serious tone.
"We just heard the rumor," the brunette, Buttercup, glowered as she rubbed her fist. Always opting to horseback ride or fence instead of sewing and sitting around daintily, the middle sister was a spitfire that looked especially inflamed at the moment. "Blossom, I swear when I find out who started that nasty piece of gossip..." she growled dangerously.
The redhead was utterly confused. She was completely unaware of what her sisters were talking about, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was something bad. "Bubbles, Buttercup, I haven't heard... What is it?"
Both sisters paled and turned towards each other.
"Blossom... Y-You haven't heard?" the blue-eyed sister asked meekly. The redhead solemnly shook her head.
The green-eyed sister sighed, "T-There's this rumor going around... It started late last night, but it's no doubt spread to all of the ton by now. Everyone thinks you were-" the brunette swallowed, "Compromised by the Duke of York in Lord Lumpkin's library at his ball last night."
In absolute shock, Blossom shot up, her eyes wider than dish plates. She blinked, trying her best not to the believe it. Surely her sisters were mistaken! But the grave looks on their pretty faces confirmed Blossom's worst fears. All of England now believed her to be loose, an unmarried woman susceptible to the charms of a devilish duke.
But her eyebrows furrowed. She didn't even know the Duke of York. Sure, tales of his legendary charm had spread across the ton, but other than that and rumors of his financial ruin, she knew nothing about the man. She had never met him, let alone done some ineffable deed with him! Who could be cruel enough to propagate such a vicious rumor?
Her heart lurched at the one thing she did know. Her reputation -the only real thing a noblewoman had- had been irrevocably destroyed. And with her name blemished with such a scandal, her high hopes for the future had been dashed. She would have no choice but to say goodbye to Dexter, goodbye to love and goodbye to happiness.
...
"You devil!"
The handsome redhead deep in concentration was bent over his desk, carefully studying some numbers. He scowled at the interruption and looked up. His features softened when he saw who had entered his study, but remnants of the scowl remained as his two younger brothers sauntered into the room.
"Butch, Boomer. What in hell do you two need now?" the redhead asked asked as his characteristically red eyes flickered .
"Brick, we just wanted to congratulate you on your newest conquest," the brunet, Butch grinned licentiously.
"You really shouldn't have tarnished that poor girl's reputation," the blond, Boomer, chided solemnly. "She may never get a marriage offer now, Brick. I hope you enjoyed it," he shook his head disapprovingly.
Brick just looked at his brothers quizzically. "What in hell are you two talking about?"
"Surely you didn't forget the beauty from just last night?" the green-eyed brother chuckled. "And in a library, no less!"
The blue-eyed brother frowned at his brother's ribald statement and turned his attention to his eldest brother, "You haven't heard the rumors?"
"What rumors?" Brick growled, suddenly angry. From what he had collected from the two's abtruse statements, he didn't like what he was piecing together.
"The Duke of York and Lady Blossom of Cambridge were found in Lumpkin's library at the ball last night," Butch declared histrionically.
"Lady Blossom of Cambridge...?" Brick racked his brain for a recollection of the name, but little appeared.
The only thing he could think of was John Utonium, the Duke of Cambridge, 's eldest daughter. He had never met her in person, but the wealth she held was widely known throughout the ton. Wealth that York desperately needed, the thought suddenly popped into his mind. But the redhead was still confused. If they didn't know each other, why would someone go through the trouble of constructing and spreading a rumor that linked them and put them in a precarious situation? Brick would easily rebound from the scandal, but the lasting effect it would have on the lady greatly differed. From what he knew about her, she was amicable enough; but this vicious gossip proved that she had a formidable enemy lurking in the midst.
"I've never met her," he finally stated.
Boomer's frown deepened, "Then does everyone think you compromised her?" he asked pointedly.
Brick scowled at his youngest brother. While the redhead was capable of horrendous things, and guilty of actually doing many, destroying a young chit's reputation was something he had no interest in doing. He had never compromised a young virgin and he never would; it was something simply too dishonorable for him.
Butch chuckled, "I always knew you were smart, but this was genius," he shook his head delightedly.
"What are you suggesting?" Brick growled. "That I started this? I don't even know her!"
"But everyone knows how rich she is. And you know how much we could use that wealth," Butch whispered emphatically. "Destroying her and forcing her to marry you would only help us infinitely."
Brick's red eyes widened. That thought hadn't even crossed the normally perspicacious duke's mind. "While you make a good point, we don't need to sink that low just yet to procure funds."
"You didn't start the gossip, then?" the sensitive blond almost let out a sigh of relief.
Brick shook his head in assent.
"Well, Butch is right... And not just about the money," Boomer said hesitantly. "Now that the lie's out, no respectable man will want her hand in marriage... Maybe it would be best if you were to take advantage of the situation and do the gentlemanly thing?" he suggested timidly.
"The gentlemanly thing?" Brick scoffed. "You mean marry her?" he smirked.
"Yes," Boomer replied resolutely. Brick narrowed his eyes menacingly.
"Don't be so quick to write him off, Brick," the brunet stepped in. "I know how averse you are to marriage and even though you've never seen Lady Blossom, surely her wealth will compensate for it all."
The redhead nodded meaningfully, soaking in his brothers' words. In light of this new scandal, perhaps they were right. Lady Cambridge may not get a fulfilling marriage, but at least Brick would give her a title, a manor to run and children should she desire them. And in return, Brick would get more than enough wealth to restore York to its former glory.
"Perhaps a marriage would be best for the two of us," Brick murmured as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Preparing himself for the worst, he inhaled a deep breath, took out a crisp clean sheet of paper and began to pen a letter to the Lady Cambridge.
...
Blossom wrapped her scarlet cloak around her tightly, softly sighing. As she snuck out of her quarters and stepped down the rear staircase and out of the manor, she couldn't help but wonder why she was even being surreptitious. After she learned of a nasty rumor concerning her and the Duke of York earlier this morning, she doubted that the genteel finding out about her nightly visits to town could tarnish her reputation even more.
She had been sneaking around London for more than three years now, collecting information for the English crown. With French spies lurking around every corner and French intelligence hidden in the pockets of the city, national safety was an important concern for Blossom and hardly a docile noblewoman, she took it upon herself to aid her country in every way possible.
Overhearing a conversation her father had with a member of the British foreign agency a few years back, the clever redhead had been dying for adventure and a respite from her suffocatingly boring life. She began by making regular visits to questionable taverns, but throughout the years, she had established solid connections with some very important informants in town. She never showed her face in the seedy establishments she visited at night for propriety, but she was happy that the information she uncovered went to save English lives.
Eager to discover something exciting to forget the dreadful events of the day that had ranged from discovering the execrable rumor to disconsolately thinking about her future options and disparately settling on buying a marriage, Blossom quietly stepped into the raucous tavern and slipped into her regular booth, obscurely in the corner. It was the perfect seat, allowing her full access to the happenings of the establishment while providing her with a layer of darkness that kept her from prying eyes.
"Who in hell are you?" a baritone voice asked in a dangerous whisper.
Blossom's neck whipped over to the deep voice and her pink eyes widened underneath the hood of her cloak when she saw a man sitting across the table. How had she missed seeing him when she sat down?
She narrowed her eyes and set her chin down firmly as she studied the man in front of her.
He had long, shaggy red hair and hard eyes that almost looked red; the rest of his face was strong, angular and undeniably breathtakingly handsome. He had broad shoulders and was clearly quite muscular, as the thin linen shirt he wore betrayed. And while his sleeves were only rolled up to his elbows, the sinewy contours of his Herculean arms glistened in the moonlight. While he was clearly dressed as a peasant, something about him commanded respect. He looked almost noble.
She swallowed. There was no way she could escape his clutches. Her mind reeled at what he could do to her. And to her absolute shock, not all of them terrified her; some of the possibilities sent a distinct tingle down her spine.
Taking a final look at the man, she realized he looked familiar. She had seen him almost every night she had visited this particular tavern and chances are, he had probably noticed her. It would be a little farfetched to think he knew she was a secret British spy.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she finally replied, her voice light and airy. She couldn't suppress a smile at seeing his reaction to her reply. He must've just realized that she was a woman.
"It's hardly proper for a woman to visit such establishments in the dead of night," he said wryly, changing his approach. From the way his gaze shifted as he looked her up and down, she could tell he didn't find her respectable in the least.
"Hardly," she concurred. "But don't get your hopes up, sir. I'm not the type of woman you think me to be," she narrowed her eyes.
"And what kind of woman would that be?" he baited her.
"Enough about me, sir," Blossom replied resolutely. She wasn't about to hand out information about herself and decided her time would be well-spent investigating the mysterious and perspicacious man. Perhaps he had a few secrets of his own. How delightful it would be to uncover them! "Pray tell, sir, what might you be doing here?" she asked, noting how incongruous his presence in the shady tavern seemed.
"Neglecting my duties," he shrugged casually. "I always welcome a respite. Tell me wench, why do you hide your face?" the redhead asked curiously, leaning forward. "I doubt you're as hideously ugly as you think yourself to be."
Blossom almost gasped in indignation. How dare he question her beauty! She narrowed her pink eyes in response, but wasn't foolish enough to relieve herself of her hood. All of Cambridge would be able to identify her as the duke's eldest daughter and while she had no reputation to protect any longer, she wouldn't jeopardize those of her sisters by letting the entire town know where she spent her evenings.
"Oh, I'm not, sir," the pink-eyed noblewoman replied pointedly. "But you're foolish if you believe I'll grace you a glance at my beauty," she didn't bother hiding the haughtiness in her voice.
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're not the poor wench you pretend to be," the man mused. He looked at her expectantly with a raised eyebrow. "You're not, are you?" he smirked.
Blossom's eyes widened. Surely he hadn't picked up on her nobility! Perhaps she should've stayed more humble. "I don't understand what you're insinuating, sir," the redhead abandoned her arrogance and replied demurely, letting her lashes fall downward.
"Milady, you've just confirmed my beliefs," the man chuckled. He had first noticed her fine cloak no peasant could ever wear, but soon her delicate voice and impeccable manners and justifiable conceit had confirmed his suspicions.
"I don't have to endure you any longer," she snapped. Narrowing her pink eyes once again, she let out a 'humph' before gathering her skirts and stepping out of the booth. She wouldn't let an uncouth stranger get under her skin like that. She had other places to be.
"Don't think you're getting away, milady," he laughed darkly as he took a single step in front of her and clutched her arm, pulling her towards his expansive torso. "Answer my question. Why does a noblewoman like yourself visit this tavern so frequently?" he asked menacingly.
Blossom stifled a cry at being pressed up against such a stalwart man. She had never been in such close proximity with such a well-built man before and it was hard to keep her thoughts straight.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she feigned ignorance.
"But you do," he said dangerously as he used his free hand to push back the hood of her cloak. As her copper waves spilled out and her milky complexion mixed with the moonlight, it was evident she had been lying. "So you are beautiful," he murmured complacently as his eyes raked over her stunning pink eyes and full, beckoning lips.
Blossom let out a strangled cry as she tried to fight the blush crawling up her neck. She had received that compliment countless times, but never had it made her feel like this. Not even Dexter's chaste touch rivaled that of the handsome stranger's.
The smug glint in his red eyes soon turned into thinly-veiled hunger and before he knew it, his lips were on hers. Blossom had surprised herself by responding to his lurid touch instead of pulling away like she knew she was supposed to.
Here she was, Lady Cambridge, in a steamy liplock with a virile stranger in the middle of a village tavern. How much more scandalous could she get?
Her senses soon, albeit reluctantly, returned and taking advantage of his momentary stupor, she moved out of his grasp, pulled on her hood and dashed out of the tavern without a single glance back.
She had to get out of there.
...
The next morning, Blossom awoke with heavy bags under her eyes. She was accustomed to returning late at night or even early in the morning, but she always managed to get a few solid hours of sleep before the next day. Dreams of the man from the tavern haunted her in a most pleasing manner and sleep eluded her.
Stifling a yawn, she crawled out of bed and rang the bell to alert her servant to draw her a warm bath. Reaching for her long robe, she saw a letter on her desk. Blossom rarely received mail, so she was curious to see what it was about.
Part of her hoped it was Dexter writing to let her know that he didn't care about the scandal, but she knew he could never overlook it. Dexter was always too proper. Another part of her lurched at the thought of the red-eyed stranger writing to her because he recognized her from their midnight meeting.
But her rampant thoughts were put to rest when she looked at the envelope.
It was from the Duke of York.
...
If enough of you enjoy this, I might just continue it! Let me know your thoughts C:
And always, thanks for reading!