Chapter 1

"Goodness, Bridget! Have you been out riding again?"

Bridget Fadden cringed at the sound of her mother's upset voice as she dismounted her trusty steed, Brimmer, in front of her family's stables.

"I wasn't gone that long, Mother. I only?—"

"How many times have I told you not to ride unsupervised? It's far too dangerous!"

She let out a sigh as her mother went on.

"Frankly, I'd rather you not ride at all, and you know this. The mere horrors that could befall a woman riding?—"

"I know, Mother. I?—"

"And today of all days, Bridget?" The Countess's scolding only continued as they began walking as fast as they could towards the grand house across the field. "This is a most important day for the family, Bridget. We are expecting guests!"

Bridget let out a small groan and quickened her pace, hoping to escape the lecture, but her mother trailed after her, relentless in her reminder.

"Elliot's betrothed, along with her brother, the esteemed Duke of Galway, will be at our doorstep at any moment, and you deem it fit to greet them… looking like this?"

They nodded at the servants nearby as they hurried towards the manor. The sprawling estate stretched as far as the eye could see, with manicured gardens and extra neatly trimmed hedges for the occasion.

Bridget sighed as her mother continued berating her, longing for a moment of respite from the chatter.

"No, Mother. Yes, I understand the significance of today." She turned with wide, assuring eyes. "I will behave accordingly."

The two women finally stepped into the grand house, its air filled with a heightened sense of anticipation. The servants scurried about, their movements choreographed with precision, bowing respectfully as the nobles passed by.

The house was of marvelous architecture, a testament to the Earl's wealth and status. Elaborate moldings adorned the walls, and intricate chandeliers hung from the ceilings, casting a soft glow on the polished marble floors.

As they made their way through the halls, Bridget's eyes were drawn to the decorations in the building. Newly carved woodwork adorned the door frames, and special occasion tapestries depicting scenes of pastoral beauty draped the walls.

With the hems of their dresses lifted delicately, the women ascended the lavish staircase while the Countess continued to speak, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Ah, looking great as ever, dear sister."

Bridget chuckled at the sight of her second brother, Hector Fadden, leaning against the walls, impeccably dressed as usual.

Hector was two years her senior, yet anyone who laid eyes on them could presume them to be twins. He had never cared about societal positions and most times treated her as an equal… and as their mother said, that only made it harder to tell their different ages.

The Fadden siblings favored each other. While Bridget's eldest siblings were similar in looks and perfect character—till recent times—one could say Hector was doing his best to make Bridget a perfect pair with him as well, imposing on her his rakish traits.

With a teasing grin, Hector quipped, "I must say, if your plan is to make the Duke's family think of us as stablemen, then you can rest assured it will be successful."

"And what's to be said about you, Brother? You're surely not the one getting married, yet here you are, dressed better than the groom… for what reason?" Bridget swiftly retorted.

"Ah, but you know me, dear sister." He twirled around dramatically, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I always dress to impress."

Unable to contain her laughter, Bridget was about to respond with an equally witty retort when their mother intervened, her tone firm. "That's enough of your banter for the day, you two."

She cast an accusing glance her son's way. "And, Hector, how comical is it that you speak about your sister's current appearance, when you're the reason she knows how to ride in the first place?"

Hector instantly lifted his hands in surrender, and Bridget grinned triumphantly at the scene.

"We have guests arriving, and we must make a good impression…"

Bridget sent a desperate glance her brother's way who immediately fell in step with their mother and draped an arm around her shoulders.

"Yes, indeed, Mother, we shall dazzle them with our impeccable manners and irresistible charm."

"Oh, get off me, Hector. You smell of strange fragrances!" The Countess scrunched up her nose and side-eyed her son.

"Ah, this? This is the latest in town! Most of the ton haven't set their eyes on a bottle, but you see, your darling son…"

Bridget let out a giggle and mouthed a thank you to her brother, who sent a wink her way as he swiftly steered their mother in the opposite direction.

After a dash to her room and a quick change of clothes, Bridget headed for the drawing room, where her family awaited. Avoiding her father's disgruntled stare, she moved to stand in position beside her brother.

"Oh, Bridget, I must say, you look positively resplendent in this elaborate creation! Are those frills on your hem chicken feathers by chance?"

Hector, annoying as ever, wasted no time in pointing out the extravagance of the gown their mother had set aside for the occasion.

"Mm, I'm afraid I can't tell," Bridget spoke through her teeth. "Yet, dear brother, it seems your attire has taken a rather subdued turn. Are you trying to blend in with the wallpaper, by chance?"

Hector feigned offense, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. "Blending in? Never! Would you believe me if I said I simply thought it would be a refreshing change to embrace a more understated elegance…"

Bridget raised an eyebrow, unable to hide her amusement. "Understated? More like drab, dear brother. You're usually one to make a grand entrance. Whatever happened?"

Hector leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "Well, you see, I did save you from Mother's scolding, but in doing so, I inadvertently drew her attention to myself. She insisted that I remove my ever-so-costly, fashionable coat."

He leaned in closer as he added anxiously, "The woman threatened to tell Father that I had taught you how to ride a horse if I refused!"

Bridget stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Brother, you truly are the victim of your own chivalry."

Hector nodded, feigning a regretful expression, and Bridget continued, "But we must admit, Mother can be quite the master manipulator when she desires something."

A playful glint lit up his eyes, happy to gossip about their mother. "Indeed! Ruth Fadden, the respected Countess of Borthwell—she may be known for her kindness and sweetness, but heaven forbid she doesn't get her way." He glanced at Bridget, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "And I dare say, Bridget, you inherited that trait as well."

She gasped in mock offense, placing a hand on her chest. "How dare you? I am never one to talk someone's ear off like Mother."

Hector chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "My dear sister, you may protest all you want, but I have witnessed your skill in the art of conversation. You are quite the chatterer."

"You take that back!" Bridget burst into quiet laughter as she smacked her brother across the arm, who joined in her chuckles.

They continued to banter with each other till their eyes finally wandered to their elder brother, who stood a bit far from them, close to their father, looking terribly anxious.

Hector leaned closer to Bridget, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Aw, look at poor Elliot! He appears as if he's about to face battle instead of a simple introduction to his future in-laws."

Bridget stifled a chuckle as her brother continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "I dare say his attire rivals that of a peacock, trying desperately to impress with his plumage."

Her eyes twinkled with laughter as she pitched in, "His expression is of most importance, though. He looks as if he's swallowed a sour lemon, with his face contorted in such comical lines."

Hector nodded, a laugh playing on his lips. "Truly, I fear his face might freeze that way if he doesn't relax."

Bridget covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as she glanced at Elliot, who had caught their eye and rolled his own in response. Unable to contain themselves, the siblings burst into quiet giggles at his expense, their shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

"It appears we've been caught. He somehow manages to always tell when we're teasing him." Hector's voice was filled with amusement as he leaned closer to his sister again. "Look at that eye roll! He's mastered the art of expressing disdain without uttering a single word."

Bridget fought to keep her giggles quiet. "He can always tell with how loud you are. Your laughter is akin to a loud pig's snorts, Brother."

Hector gasped and swiveled his head in her direction. "How dare you? The sound of my joy is the sweetest tune known to man."

"Oh, indeed." Bridget rolled her eyes and giggled again.

"And you speak of my laughter when yours nearly drove away a suitor that one time?—"

"Brother!" Bridget's eyes widened in disbelief, her laughter breaking as she said, "I would have never thought you would stoop so low merely to?—"

"That's enough from you two, wouldn't you agree?"

Leonard Fadden, the Earl of Borthwell, interrupted their bickering. Instantly, a hush fell over the room as his firm words commanded attention.

Their father's face bore the weight of seriousness and harshness as his gaze shifted to Bridget alone. "You should not embarrass us in front of our guests, Bridget."

His tone was edging on cruel as he added, "You must keep in mind your unmarried status and the shame and disgrace you bring upon our family. You, of all people, must watch your actions very carefully this day."

Bridget felt her chest tighten, an angry tear threatening to escape. Her father had always been stricter and more unforgiving towards her than her mother. It seemed he was always picking at her at every moment.

She clenched her fists behind her dress as her eyes shifted to her elder brother. She could see the worry on Elliot's face, the fear that they would begin an argument on his big day.

For his sake, she found a reservoir of calm within herself. Despite every fiber of her being screaming to protest, she mustered the strength to finally respond politely to the Earl.

"I assure you, Father, I will be on my best behavior," she replied, her voice steady and composed.

"Father, have you seen how the garden turned? You were absolutely right in your judgment in switching tools," Elliot interjected suddenly to distract their father, preventing any further confrontation.

Bridget couldn't help but hiss under her breath as their father's focus shifted away from her. Her gaze met her mother's, who sent her a thankful yet sorrowful expression at how she had handled the situation. She nodded nonchalantly in response.

As always, her mother remained silent, never daring to challenge her father's harsh words. The Countess despised the growing divide between her husband and her daughter and did everything in her power to mend it but always in private, never in front of others.

"Are you all right, Sister?"

Bridget realized she had been shooting daggers at the innocent floor all this while, her fists still balled behind her dress.

Hector's voice was filled with empathy and a slight anger as he spoke, "I would have spoken up for you, if not for today being of importance to Elliot. We were both chattering—you did not deserve Father's harsh words."

Despite the irritation still brimming within her, Bridget managed to lift her gaze to her brother's concerned expression with a small smile. She nudged him slightly as she spoke, pushing a tease in her tone.

"This is nothing but the usual treatment from our father, is it not? You need not worry, Brother. Such is my life as a result of my actions, and… I've made peace with it."