Hello, and welcome back, everyone! After some minor mishaps with my laptop, I have luckily not lost any of my important documents. So fear not, this story will conclude shortly. Stick with it, even though we'll be a bit angsty here for a while.

Chapter Nine

August 2009 – London, England

She'd always thought of this place as home, but being back in London felt almost foreign to Daphne now. Despite their plans, and her secret hopes, the family hadn't spent much time in their Rhode Island house this summer. Francesca's wedding took up the bulk of the time, and Daphne had used it to focus on her upcoming academic year. She'd gotten good reviews for her first semester. She finally felt like she knew how to teach the kids. She was going to be leading a few new classes in the fall. Things were going good for her.

And yet, all the really important things fell apart. She'd had almost no time to reconnect with her family yet, things with Simon had never gotten back to a place where people believed they were together. But thankfully, his attitude was grumpier than ever, which was sufficient to keep Nigel away until the end of the semester. She was bracing herself for seeing him with other women come the fall, but she had some time before that happened.

For now, it was time to celebrate Francesca. Daphne was spending the day in London with Benedict and Eloise before taking the train up to Edinburgh the next morning. She stepped off the Tube, lugging two large suitcases up the escalator with her before she spotted her siblings on the sidewalk. She did her best to shoot them a smile. She and Eloise hadn't really seen eye to eye since Eloise decided Daphne's heteronormative desire to be asked to prom was stupid, and Daphne decided Eloise's need to be difficult about everything wasn't worth dealing with. Daphne and Benedict hadn't really had much to do together since they were kids. He had spent most of his formative years with Anthony and Colin, and since Anthony filled the overprotective older brother roll, Benedict didn't really have a reason to hang out with Daphne.

It was going to a long, potentially uncomfortable day with the two siblings she had the least in common with. But she was prepared to make the best of it. "Hi." She approached them with a smile. She was trying to start off on the right foot.

"Hey there." It was an awkward greeting, but Daphne expected nothing less from Eloise. Daphne knew she wasn't the only one aware of the tension in their relationship. "Need any help with the suitcases?"

Yes, Eloise's first assumption is that Daphne can't handle the luggage she flew from America and then rode the Tube 45 minutes with. "No, I've got it." She tried to keep the snippiness out of her voice, but Eloise and Benedict's shared glances showed she didn't quite succeed.

"Okay, well, it's this way." Benedict waved her forward. He wasn't a lover on conflict. Which really was probably why he'd stayed away from the girls when they were growing up. He wasn't that close with Francesca, either. "How was your flight?"

"Not bad. You know how airline food is." She tried to relax. She'd wanted to fix things with her family, not make them work. If that were the case, she should try to make amends on her end first. "How have you two been?"

"Work pays the bills." Benedict smiled tightly. That was one area Daphne could sympathize with. She had spent a long time trying to do things she didn't want to do because she thought she had to to make other people happy. And then she'd decided that if it made her miserable, she wouldn't be able to make anyone else happy. So she'd committed to art history, and the rest was…well, history. She knew Benedict was an artist at heart. "But Eloise is getting top marks in her program at Cambridge."

"Ah, I'd expect nothing less from someone as sharp-witted as she is." Daphne meant it to be encouraging, but she could tell from the way Eloise's lips twisted and her eyes shuttered, she didn't take it that way. "What will the degree be in?"

"Chemistry." Eloise's voice was softer than Daphne had ever heard it. Yet again, she'd pushed too hard and messed things up.

But unlike Simon, she did still have a chance to fix things with her siblings. They would have to see her forever, and not just at work functions or in passing at the local bar. So Daphne decided to do something about it. She stopped short, the wheel on one of her suitcase squeaking. Eloise nearly ran her over as she continued walking forward. The noise drew Benedict's attention, who turned back to them in confusion. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?" Eloise clearly wanted to move things along.

Daphne turned to her. "I'm sorry for… us. For the way things are. I'm the big sister, and I let your hormones get under my skin and lashed out at you. We're not the same, and yes, you do make things unnecessarily difficult sometimes, and you frown on basically everything I want from my life, and you have a tendency to hit a nerve—" Eloise's expression told Daphne she clearly needed to move this along. "—but your perspective makes me think about things a different way. You make me think that yes, I want a husband and a family, but those aren't the only things I want from my life. You make me reconsider how I go about trying to get the things I've always wanted."

She turned to Benedict before she ran out of steam. "And I'm sorry to you, too. I spent so many years when we were growing up, and even now, dealing with Anthony and his expectations that I never made an effort to get to know yours. I think deep down we actually might be pretty similar, and I'm sorry I never tried to find out whether that's true or not before. But I'm planning to start now, if you'll let me."

There was silence on the street in the bright morning sunlight. Daphne realized she could have picked a better time to do this. Like not going on five hours of sleep on a cramped airplane next to a woman who smelled of her cats. Not at six in the morning when none of them were really prepared for the day. And this whole speech would make the rest of their day, and Francesca's wedding, quite uncomfortable.

"Damn, Simon is great for you." Eloise grinned at her. "I take back everything I've ever said about you finding a husband if he's the one you pick." Daphne was so taken aback she didn't even clarify to Eloise that she and Simon were no longer together.

"I don't know about Eloise, but I'm sorry, too." Benedict smiled at her in a way that was uniquely his. He, more than anyone else she knew, wore his feelings on his face. This was a smile of pure happiness. Daphne didn't know if she'd ever felt so welcomed into her family. "Relationships aren't a one-way street. You might not have made an effort, but neither did I. You're not the only one who doesn't love the shadow Anthony casts."

"Yes, he's quite overbearing," Eloise added. "And…I'm sorry, too." Daphne raised her eyebrows, which Eloise rolled hers at. "Calm down, I'm not about to go all hearts and flowers or anything. But you deserve to know that I looked up to you as a kid. Yes, I am pushy and loud, and I probably shouldn't have loudly declared that marriage and relationships are stupid. I stand by the fact that most marriages aren't solid, but you always believed there was something special—someone special—out there. And despite everything I loudly shouted, it gave me a little hope."

"Gasp!" This was from Benedict. "Is your heart of ice melting?"

"Shut it." Eloise shoved him, but he dragged her in by the shoulders for a hug. And Eloise tugged Daphne's wrist to bring her in, too.

It was nice, feeling so surrounded by her family. And given that Eloise and Benedict, outside of Anthony (who was a mountain she wasn't sure she wanted to tackle any time soon), were the siblings she had the most friction with, she was actually feeling a bit optimistic about this wedding. For the first time in weeks, she was starting to feel like things were going to be okay.

Daphne pulled out of the hug. "Hey. What did you mean, 'Simon is good for me'?"

"You've felt this way for years and you've never said anything about it to us." Eloise shrugged. "A few months of dating Simon and you come spill your deep dark feelings. Clearly, he's given you some confidence in yourself that you didn't have before."

"How do you know I didn't do it myself? I started teaching, too. Moved to a whole new country." Daphne felt the need to defend herself.

"And that definitely took guts." Benedict held up his hands. "But that kind of confidence comes from knowing you deserve it. Teaching might give you satisfaction or fulfillment. But it won't give you confidence."

"I—" She cut herself off, because she actually thought they had a point. "Damn."

Eloise laughed. "Hey, you finally found what you were looking for. You should be rubbing it in my face right now."

Daphne sucked in a wry chuckle. "I would. But we broke up."

Eloise and Benedict quieted. "Can you fix it?"

"I don't think so." Daphne smiled at them, and this time, it felt real. "But now I have new siblings to annoy as I work through some heartbreak."

"You know he's going to be there this weekend."

Benedict's words snapped her head up. "What?"

"Mum got a few invitations to send out for this big white wedding, and Anthony strong-armed her into sending Simon one." Benedict's gaze was sympathetic. She had a feeling there was some heartbreak in his past she'd never heard about. Perhaps she'd have to exercise this new level of their relationship and find out some day.

And she now had a new directive to add to her mission for the week: reconnect with her family, and avoid telling Simon she was in love with him.


Simon was bone tired when he arrived at his apartment in Westminster. One of the benefits of being the sole descendant of one of the oldest duchies in England. He had his estate, but his family had also held this townhouse for nearly a century. And he'd purchased a house in Raleigh when he'd been hired there. He didn't like to flaunt his wealth, primarily because he hated the society associated with it, but it certainly made his living situation much easier.

He spent nearly three days taking care of things that had gone unattended since winter. It was mostly upkeep on the estate and his inheritance, now that he was the Duke, but some of it let him get more hands on. He appreciated the ability to work on the leaky faucet in the downstairs toilet, and repaint the frame of his bedroom door. It made him feel useful.

It was early Friday morning, and he showed up in Covent Garden with his rolling case and garment bag. Lady D had thought it would be a good idea to take the train up to Edinburgh before the rehearsal that night. He was still a little surprised he'd merited an invitation on his own, but regardless of what happened between him and Daphne, the Bridgertons, at least the boys, were a second family to him. Close to first, really, given how close Lady D and Violet were. And now that he'd reconnected with Francesca, he couldn't skip on her wedding just because he was no longer banging her sister.

Even in his head, "banging" felt wrong. They'd had something much bigger than that. But the point stood. He owed it to the Bridgerton family to attend the wedding. No matter how odd it would feel to see her again.

It was just past seven when he arrived in front of Lady D's building. A beautiful, white stone building about four stories tall. Simon had spent enough time there growing up to know it held on the order of fifteen apartments and an office. He was surprised, however, to see a woman trying to hold open the door and heft a side table inside. She must have been around fifty, but still quite striking. If Lady D was an orchid and Violet was (for lack of a better comparison) a violet, this woman was a lilac.

Simon took his hand off of his suitcase to hold the door for her. She shot him a grateful smile as she easily lifted the table over the threshold with both hands. "Thank you. I should have thought that through better before doing it. A flaw of mine, I must admit." She had a proper London accent, and he assumed she came from the same society that bred him.

"Not a problem. My mother taught me to help those in need." It had actually been Lady D, but she was his mother for all intents and purposes, so he thought it needed no clarifying. He tugged his case inside with him before allowing the door to close. Lady D lived on the third floor of the old building.

Two younger versions of the woman he'd helped inside peeked their heads over the landing at the second floor. The same satiny raven hair, the same tawny skin, the same warm chocolate eyes. He presumed they were her daughters. And upon closer inspection, he could see boxes and loose items, wrapped in bubble wrapped piled on the floor. "Moving in?"

"Yes, my daughters and I just returned from India. It has been… quite a while since we were in England." A pinch flickered across her face that he knew to be regret. "An old friend of mine knew of an empty apartment here."

"Welcome back. I hope your move goes smoothly." He lifted the hand on his case again, held it out to the woman to shake. "Simon Bassett. My mother lives in this building."

She took the hand he extended, shook it in a firm but warm grip. "Mary Sharma. And my daughters, Kate and Edwina." The two younger women waved their hellos as they were named. He presumed Edwina to be the shorter of the two, with her innocent doll-like features and wide eyes. Kate was sharper, more angular. Simon could tell she didn't shy away from anything.

He returned the greeting with a wave of his own. "Lovely to meet you, ladies. I would offer to help, but unfortunately, my mother and I have a train to catch."

"What would we do without a man to help us?" This was from Kate, and he knew he was right. She was eyeing him with a single eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Kate!" Mary and Edwina both eyed her, silently urging her to be polite. But Simon smiled.

"She makes a good point. I'm sure you three can handle it." Kate bobbed her head in satisfaction at her victory. Simon had a feeling this would not be the last time he would find himself thoroughly entertained by her.

Lady D chose that moment to emerge from her apartment, carefully lifting her suitcase and garment bag as she made her way down the stairs to where he and Mary stood. "Mary! Lovely to see you. So glad you've made it in already."

"Agatha. You don't have a son." Mary was clearly taken aback by this.

"I didn't give birth to him, but he's my son in every sense of the word." She was as strong as steely as always, but a hint of tenderness crept into her gaze. "I spent too many years raising him to not consider him my son."

They needed to leave or Simon would embarrass himself with some tears. "Nice to meet you all, but we must be off. Our train leaves at half eight."

Lady D embraced Mary before she walked out of the building with him. "Simon, I truly did not know you had it in you."

"What are you talking about?" He looked down the street, hailing a cab as it meandered past them.

"You talked to them for a few minutes. I don't think I heard a single Neanderthal grunt." She raised her eyebrows at him as he loaded their bags into the trunk of the cab. "And dare I say, you were wearing a smile when I came out."

He glared at her now, realizing what she'd done. They settled into the cab, he told the driver to head to the train station, and turned back to Lady D. "Were you eavesdropping that whole time?"

"Of course I was." She smiled. "I'm proud of you."

"Because I talked to some strangers?" He wasn't sure what she was trying to say, but it made him uncomfortably hot under his collar anyway.

"Yes." He snapped his head to her, offended. She offered him a small smile. "Simon, I know what you've been through. And I know you have decided to guard yourself because of that. Surprisingly, I don't think you're wrong to do it. But at some point, those safeguards became to tall and too thick for anything to get in. You have never cared for society or interacting with it. But you just, without thinking about it, I might add, spent a few moments with perfect strangers, making conversation and listening to what they had to say. Those walls of yours are finally cracking a bit."

"They're not." He said quickly, because the thought that something might have slipped past his defenses was an idea he must banish before it truly took hold. "I don't have safeguards."

"Did you not just receive your best ever reviews this past semester?" She waited for him to answer, clearly knowing he couldn't refute it.

"How did you know that?" He should have told her himself, but he had yet to examine what had kept him from doing so.

"A Bridgerton birdie whispered it to me months ago."

Simon frowned. "How did Anthony know? We rarely speak about work."

"A different Bridgerton, dear. She seemed quite proud of you, really. I've never seen her heap praise on anyone like that." Simon had tuned out the last sentence. He felt like he'd stepped in front of the Tube and been hit full speed. Daphne had not only talked to Lady D after… breakup, for lack of a better term, but had said she was proud of him?

He couldn't wrap his head around it. He'd spent so long trying to help her be proud of herself, to help her know what she wanted and go after it. It never occurred to him she might be proud of him, too. Especially after the way he'd behaved throughout most of their relationship. He always assumed she liked him on a surface level, but that he was a placeholder once she found the relationship she really wanted. He was good, but temporary. His many faults forced him into that role.

Being proud of someone isn't temporary. You need to care about them, enough that you want to be there for their successes. And he realized that his inability to see himself as anything more than a temporary option was the very thing that had prevented their relationship from being anything more than temporary. He had no idea what to do with this realization, but he knew that seeing her at the wedding would be anything but unimportant.


The rehearsal had gone quite smoothly. Luckily, as none of the Bridgertons were yet parents, John Stirling had a handful of young cousins who could serve in the wedding party. Lady D had done a reading, Violet had successfully reigned in Gregory and Hyacinth's antics. They found themselves in the restaurant at the Balmoral, enjoying a drink and some chatter between families.

John was very nice. He was certainly smitten with Francesca—as Daphne supposed he should be. But it was Michael who truly piqued Daphne's interest. In appearance, he and John were quite similar. One could certainly tell they were related.

They had the same short cropped inky black curls and copper skin. Daphne thought they would have looked right at home in an ancient Egyptian frieze, though in very different roles. John was encouraging, kind and almost gentle, with a slimmer build and slightly rounder face. He was clean-shaven and seemed to be constantly smiling, showing off his killer dimples, if she did say so herself.

Michael, on the other hand, smirked when John smiled. He was playful and lighthearted, but Daphne saw a vulnerability in him when he didn't think he was being watched. He was taller, leaner than John. His eyes were as deep and warm as hickory, betraying that intensity he tried to mask with a quick smile and teasing laugh. He seemed the quintessential movie boyfriend, who covered his intensity with jokes and smiles so no one knew how much he felt.

The most curious thing about him was his interactions with Francesca. While she and John spent their time together giggling, with stars in their eyes, she moved warily around Michael, like she was always waiting for him to make a surprise move. Or like a bunny she was afraid to spook. Either way, it was an interesting dynamic. Daphne couldn't say she thought Francesca was choosing the wrong brother, but the vibe between Francesca and Michael definitely needed to be explored.

"You're thinking hard." Daphne looked over at Anthony as he dropped down next to her on the cushiony bench seat.

"Just assessing the Stirlings. I presume you don't disapprove of John the way you are so wont to do." She tried to keep her tone light, not wanting to provoke an argument. Not only was it the eve of Francesca's wedding, but she simply did not have the energy to handle another of Anthony's lectures now. She found that she had little energy to put up with anyone's emotional baggage anymore.

"I don't disapprove—" He stopped short when she shot him a narrow look. "Okay, I have occasionally disapproved. But only because I didn't want you to end up with the wrong person."

"But that would have been my mistake to make." She felt the need to defend herself, which she'd never really felt pressured to do before. "Plus, it's not the 1800s. I would be able to get a divorce if it was truly a bad choice."

"Was Simon a bad choice?" She saw the sincerity in his eyes. He was genuinely concerned about her feelings.

"The end hurt. But I don't think he was a bad choice." She shrugged, looking down at her cocktail. "At least I've now had a real relationship. I know what doesn't work for the next time I give it a try."

Anthony nodded next to her. "I don't think it was the wrong choice, either. Don't get me wrong, I didn't like it. But I'm proud you made a choice for yourself. And look, now you're out here arguing with me. You're coming into your own."

"You can't seriously pretend you've been an ass to me because you were pushing me to stand up for myself." Her mouth had dropped open at his words. The man had always had nerves of steel, but he hadn't always been stupid.

"No," he admitted, dropping his own gaze down to his beer. "I owe you a real apology. I have for a long time, really. My concern was for you, but I let my ego get in the way. I always thought I knew best, and clearly, I was wrong."

Something hid behind Anthony's eyes, a conflict she'd never seen before. She nudged him with her shoulder. "You said you thought Simon should go to therapy. Maybe you should, too."

He glanced over, appeared to take in her expression. And decided she wasn't messing with him. "Why are you so wise now? You're still six years younger than me."

She grinned. "You said it yourself, I'm coming into my own. I think that means I gained some wisdom, too. Either way, thank you. Honestly, you have been an overbearing ass most of my life. But it's true, I wasn't always willing to stand up to you. Or even really let you get to know me. Why don't we have a hug and call it even?"

Anthony shook his head, but reached out, drawing Daphne into his chest. "Alright, sister. We're even." He leaned back and gazed out at the party in front of them. It was more of a casual get together than a real party. Mostly their family, Lady D, and the Stirlings. "So what do you think of John?"

"They seem very into each other. I can't find a fault with him." She tipped her head. "I'm not entirely sure they're out of the rosy love-struck phase yet. Hopefully that doesn't change anything between them."

"You know, I invited him before I even knew you were together." He downed the rest of his drink. "I know he'll be there tomorrow."

"I know. I can't keep him from places he's welcome." She smiled. "Besides, we have to get back to civil at some point. With any luck, we'll be working together for quite a while."

"You will." He nodded encouragingly at her. And Daphne thought it was the nicest conversation she'd ever had with her brother. Just in time for the wedding.