The soft clatter of hooves on the cobblestone streets faded as Emily and Aunt Margaret's carriage rolled smoothly through the outskirts of London. The air had a crispness to it, the faint hint of autumn already settling in as the golden hues of the morning sunlight stretched across the countryside. They were on their way to Aubrey Hall, the Bridgerton family estate, about a four-hour ride from the bustle of the city. The steady motion of the carriage, the creaking of the wooden wheels, and the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses seemed to lull her into a quiet reflection.
The carriage was comfortable enough, with soft cushions and velvet upholstery, but Emily found herself restless, her thoughts drifting to the Bridgerton family and the new experience that awaited her at the country estate. She had never been to Aubrey Hall, though she had certainly heard plenty about it from her aunt these past few days.
Despite her aunt's disparaging remarks about the family, there had never been a question about them joining the Bridgertons this week.
"I trust you are looking forward to the week at Aubrey Hall, Emily?" Aunt Margaret's voice broke the silence, pulling Emily from her thoughts.
Emily nodded, but there was a spark of mischief in her eyes. "I am. I've heard it's quite the grand estate."
Aunt Margaret chuckled softly, her gaze turning toward the rolling hills. "Oh, I imagine you'll be quite impressed. The Bridgertons are, after all, a family with considerable means. But remember, Emily, they are not your typical peers. The family is… lively, shall we say. Full of energy and opinions." It was said as a warning but Emily smiled.
The carriage continued its steady pace, the miles slipping by unnoticed as Emily's mind wandered, filled with anticipation for what lay ahead at Aubrey Hall.
They arrived in the late afternoon, and even Emily, used to the sprawling manors of New York, was taken aback by the building which stood before her.
Its tall stone façade rose majestically from the green expanse of the estate. The sprawling grounds stretched out before her, dotted with ancient oaks and neatly trimmed hedges that led up to the grand entrance.
It was far more impressive than she had imagined—there was a quiet dignity to the place, a sense of history that seemed to echo through the very air. The house itself was elegant, with ivy climbing up the walls and large windows that gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, offering a view of the meticulously manicured gardens beyond.
The sheer size of the estate left her breathless, but it was the warmth she sensed from the house itself that intrigued her most. It didn't seem imposing, as grand estates often could; instead, it seemed to beckon her inside, inviting her into a space filled with life and laughter.
As the carriage slowed to a stop at the grand entrance, Emily's heart raced with both excitement and trepidation. She had imagined Aubrey Hall as a place of distant grandeur, a family stronghold filled with formality, but now that she saw it in person, it felt like a place where memories were made, where people came together.
She could already picture the Bridgertons in their element here—lively dinners, impromptu gatherings, and playful banter. The thought of being welcomed into such a space, so full of life, made her feel oddly at home, despite the unfamiliarity of it all. It was a world away from her quiet life in London, yet the prospect of spending time here stirred something deep within her, a longing to become part of that warmth and connection.
A line of footmen jumped to action as their carriage pulled to a stop and Emily was helped down. A line of Bridgertons and spouses waited to one side, greeting guests as they arrived. She smoothed the front of her dress and tried to quell her anxiety.
The Viscount, Anthony, was the first to greet them, with his wife, Viscountess Kate.
"We're so pleased you could join us, Miss Hawthorne," Kate said, her voice carrying a friendly, informal tone.
Emily returned the smile. "Thank you, Viscountess. It's a pleasure to be here."
"Oh, please, call me Kate," she replied with a light laugh, waving off the formality. "In fact, we hardly bother with titles once we're at Aubrey Hall. I suspect you'll see that soon enough!"
Anthony, standing beside her, offered Emily a brief nod, his demeanor polite yet reserved. Behind them, more of the Bridgerton siblings approached, each extending their own welcome in their distinct way. The atmosphere around them buzzed with a casual cheer, a liveliness that Emily had rarely seen among such a large family. She could hardly keep track of all the introductions, but there was one presence notably missing.
As if reading her thoughts, Kate leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "Benedict is around here somewhere," she whispered, her eyes glinting with amusement. Emily blushed that this information was shared with her directly. It made her curious to know what had been said behind closed doors.
She was quickly ushered into the main hall, and there she marveled at the high, arched ceilings and elaborate chandeliers casting a warm glow over the room. The scent of polished wood and faint traces of lavender drifted through the air.
Soon, guests began to scatter, each group being shown to their respective rooms.
Emily was shown into a large room with a four-poster bed. Curtains hung about the bedposts and she marveled at the rich furnishings surrounding her. There was a mahogany dressing table, a large, ornate wardrobe and in front of the fireplace, a chaise lounge.
Tall windows lined one side of the room, letting in a great deal of natural light, helping the room feel light and airy. A few paintings lined the walls. Leaning in for a closer look at one landscape, she was shocked to see it signed by Benedict.
It was certainly a masterful piece of work. The rolling hills gave way to expansive skies. Trees were created with foliage so delicate, Emily wondered how it was even possible to paint in such proportions. The soft golden hues in the sky suggested the end of a long, peaceful day, filled with laughter and family. She felt calmed by it.
Staring around the room, she was left somewhat in awe. She knew the Bridgerton family came from wealth, but it seemed she had underestimated quite how much.
Alice fussed around her, unpacking her dresses and placing her things around the room. There was a hive of activity going on across the estate. But looking out one of the windows, Emily realised how utterly relaxed she felt. It were as though the large weight which had sat on her chest since leaving New York had finally lifted.
As Emily prepared for dinner at Aubrey Hall, she stood in her guest room, admiring her reflection in a tall, gilded mirror. The room was decorated in soft, muted shades—lavender and ivory—complemented by intricately carved furniture and a four-poster bed draped in rich, cream-colored fabric. A fire crackled gently in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the polished wood floors and heavy velvet curtains framing the windows.
With Alice, her maid, assisting her, Emily adjusted the delicate lace along her sleeves and smoothed the front of her satin gown, a deep sapphire number with delicate silver embroidered into the bodice.
Soon, Emily descended to the drawing room, where the household and guests had begun to gather for pre-dinner conversation. The room was alive with murmurs and laughter, with gentlemen and ladies grouped in small clusters, each engaged in animated conversation.
Emily took a breath to calm her nerves before stepping further in, quickly noting a few familiar faces among the lively crowd. A tall, elegantly dressed woman beside her commented lightly on the beautiful tapestries adorning the walls, prompting Emily to join in, sharing a lighthearted remark.
As they talked, Emily noticed Benedict across the room, seemingly engrossed in a conversation with another guest. For a fleeting moment, he caught her gaze, and a small, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
She had been engaged in light conversation when she felt him come to stand behind her, heat radiating off him in waves.
"Miss Hawthorne, I do hope your journey here was an easy one?" He said, bowing slightly.
She smiled at him. "It was, thank you. Your home is…wonderful." She was searching for the right words but still felt as though she had fallen short.
Benedict's gaze held hers for a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of humor in his eyes. "Wonderful, you say? I think that may be the most polite way anyone has ever described it."
Emily tilted her head, intrigued by his playful tone. "And what would you call it, then?"
He grinned, glancing around as if sharing a secret. "A place of organized chaos, I believe, would be more fitting. Or perhaps… spirited mayhem."
She laughed softly. "Then I look forward to experiencing such 'spirited mayhem' firsthand."
His expression softened slightly, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice. "And I look forward to witnessing your reaction. Aubrey Hall has a way of revealing one's true character, you know. Especially around dinner."
"Oh?" Emily raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. "And what's revealed about you, Mr Bridgerton, when in your natural habitat?"
Benedict chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Ah, that, Miss Hawthorne, is something I'll leave you to discover."
Emily felt so light she believed she could float away. As dinner was called, Emily took to the formal dining room, looking to see where she had been seated.
She was surprised to see she had been placed on the higher middle end of the table. She was untitled and though she had a sizeable inheritance, she had been ready to take her assumed place nearer the bottom of the table.
On her right hand side, she noticed Benedict had been placed. She smiled and took the seat that was offered to her by one of the footmen. She glanced across the table, and noticed to her horror, Lord Fife was taking his seat.
Suppressing a sigh, Emily took her seat with a pained smile. As the soup was served to the table, Lord Fife wasted no time in trying to monopolise the conversation.
"Miss Hawthorne, You are glowing. The country air has done wonders for your completion."
Emily smiled, politely. "Sir, I had not realised my completion needed so much improvement." Benedict coughed next to her. Casting a sidelong glance, she could see he was biting back a smirk.
Lord Hammett, one of Lord Fife's friends, sat to her left. "He countryside is only good in small doses I feel. Savage society, outside of London."
"I do hope that was not a veiled reference to anything that has displeased you at Aubrey Hall?" Benedict asked?
"Oh, I am sure nothing could displease anyone here, Mr Bridgerton!" Emily leaned forward slightly to see a young lady on Benedict's right hand side leaning closer to him than she enjoyed. Fluttering her eyelashes, the young woman continued, "It is such a grand and wonderful home. I should be disappointed to never find myself here again."
It was now Benedict's turn to smile politely. "My mother is very fond of company, Miss Grace. I am sure she should not decline should you wish to pay her a social call in the future."
"You know," Anna Butler, sitting to the left of Lord Fife, declared suddenly, "they say the cows in Sussex are the most intelligent in all of England. Fascinating, truly."
Emily tilted her head to one side and observed the young woman, unsure if she was being serious.
Before Emily could reply, the young Miss Grace turned toward Benedict again, her voice full of attempted sophistication. "Mr Bridgerton, did you know I've personally met the Duchess of Devonshire's third cousin?"
Benedict managed a polite nod. "Truly an illustrious connection."
"I of course, only meant to compliment your beauty, Miss Hawthorne," Lord Fife continued as though the conversation had never been interrupted.
Emily inclined her head, her smile unwavering. "Thank you, Lord Fife. Though, if my complexion reflects the countryside, then perhaps I should consider staying indefinitely." She caught Benedict's slight smirk from the corner of her eye.
Lord Hammett chimed in with a dismissive tone. "The countryside may have its charms, but a true gentleman never strays too far from London."
"Is that so?" Benedict asked, feigning curiosity. "I had imagined there was much to admire outside of London."
Miss Grace leaned across the table, her gaze flickering briefly to Emily before settling on Benedict. "You know, Mr Bridgerton," she said with a saccharine smile, "a lady's worth should be evident in her presence alone, no matter where she is, do you not think?" She tilted her head, a smug glint in her eye as she added, "After all, actions often speak louder than ambitions."
Benedict met Miss Grace's gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, Miss Grace," he replied smoothly, "a person's worth is often most evident in the way they engage with the world—through actions, ambitions, and, perhaps, a touch of curiosity." His eyes flicked briefly to Emily, his smile warming. "It takes a certain spirit to step beyond what one knows and explore unfamiliar ground." He leaned back, casually, as though oblivious to Miss Grace's tightened expression.
As the next course arrived, Miss Butler leaned forward with an air of sudden revelation. "I recently heard that if you plant a tree under a full moon, it will grow twice as tall as usual." She nodded earnestly, as if sharing profound wisdom. "Isn't it marvelous, the mysteries of nature?"
"That is incredibly fascinating, Miss Butler," Emily said, focusing all her attention on the strange, young lady opposite her. "Where did you learn such things?" She asked, earnestly.
Miss Butler's face lit up at Emily's interest. "Oh, I read it in The Weekly Almanac! A remarkable source for all sorts of truths about nature. Just last week, I learned that carrots grow best when spoken to, particularly if you recite poetry. Isn't it wonderful how plants respond to kindness?"
Emily nodded, smiling warmly. "Absolutely, Miss Butler. Nature has a fascinating way of responding to the energy we give it."
Benedict, meanwhile, hid his grin behind his napkin, clearly entertained by the exchange.
Lord Fife leaned in, his gaze fixed on Emily, attempting to reclaim her attention. "Miss Hawthorne, while I'm sure gardening practices are delightful, they hardly seem fitting for a lady of your elegance. You ought to concern yourself with matters of far greater sophistication—such as the proper hosting of grand soirées."
Emily met his gaze, her polite smile unfaltering. "A well-rounded hostess must be versed in many things, Lord Fife. Even matters as humble as gardening can bring insight into the nature of growth, don't you think?"
He did not answer.
The rest of the dinner passed without much excitement. Emily had been glad to converse with Benedict for a bit - with him promising to give a full tour of the house in the morning.
After the men retired to the study and the women to the sitting room, Emily - along with several other of the young women - decided to retire for the night.
As she settled down in the large bed she could not help but think how nice it would be, continuing to be a guest at Aubrey Hall in the future.