Only Hope | Anthony Bridgeton

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The string quartet played a playful yet suspenseful tune as the guests danced in the middle of the floor. The room was lined with peacocks and exotic birds, some alive, some not. Nevertheless, the room burst with color and laughter. 

Anthony, however, was lost in his own head. He wasn't distracted by the atmosphere around him, no. He was much too focused on his thoughts, as well as the woman that consumed them. 

Abigail was, at the moment, distracted by Lord Tomkins as he seemed to be writing his name on the appropriate line of her dance card. Anthony could feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched the two interact, but he was mostly consumed with the need to know her. Know why she lied, why she avoids questions about her father. He was nearly sure he knew why, he just needed it confirmed. 

So, he took matters into his own hands and swept across the room only to land in front of her. Lord Tomkins had just left her. Probably to scour for other young ladies to dance with, he thought bitterly. 

"I hope that dance card isn't too full." He said, making her turn as he gained her attention. 

"As a matter of fact, there's one space left, if you're interested." She quirked her brow, and held out the card in question. 

"A quadrille? Alright, but I'm not promising anything." He chuckled as he signed his name. 

"Oh he's losing steam. I thought a Bridgerton, of all people, would have had every dance on this list down to perfection." She decided to tease him. 

Her smile was infectious to him. He matched her expression. 

"We're supposed to. But um," He leaned down to her ear and lowered his voice. "I may have ditched a few dance classes when it was my turn." 

She laughed and chose to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat when he came nearer to her.  

"Miss Bentley." She heard from behind her. Turning she saw Lord Ainsworth, who had cornered her for a dance almost as soon as she walked in the door. "I do believe this is the Redowa. If you'll allow me to take her from you, Lord Bridgerton." 

Anthony pushed down his irritation and said, "Of course." 

Abby spared him one last glance before leaving his side and entering the dance floor. She didn't want to feel anything for him, but she couldn't help feeling a sense of anticipation for his dance.
She shouldn't. She knew full well he wasn't planning on marrying anytime soon, and she also knew she didn't have time to wait for him. But lately, whatever was between them seemed to be growing stronger. By the way he was acting, she didn't even think he could deny it. 

Time however went quickly and soon enough, she didn't have time to question the multitude of thoughts over him, for he was in front of her, ready for his turn.

"Alright. Remember what I said about not expecting too much." He said quietly as the music started up. 

They started moving. 

"Just don't trod on my toes."

He laughed at that. It was refreshing, he couldn't remember the last time he felt this at ease with someone. 

They danced in comfortable silence for a few moments, until he finally broke it. 

"May I ask you a question?" 

"You just did." She smirked and he rolled his eyes, as he was used to this response having the amount of siblings he does. "But go ahead." 

"What really happened to your cheek the other day?" He asked in a low tone. 

That, she was not expecting. All ease displayed on her face was gone. 

"I-I told you." She managed out. 

"No, you didn't. You avoided the question." He responded, as if he had been ready for her answer. "You seem to skillfully avoid every question about your home life, when it doesn't have to do with your brothers." 

She was utterly flustered, and avoided eye contact with him. Instead, she focused on the music, and when it might soon end. 

"Abigail." He gained her attention. "Did your father hurt you?" 

Now she was not only flustered but also thoroughly irritated. Thankfully the song ended. She removed herself from his grasp immediately, and swiftly left the ballroom, attempting not to gain too much attention. 

He sighed, frustrated, and went after her. He followed her into the hallway where she was already charging down a corridor. She made a right, so he made a right. 

"Abigail!" He yelled, but barely above a whisper. They shouldn't be alone out here. "Stop walking." 

"Stop following." She forcefully said back. 

He managed to grab her wrist, effectively stopping her, and turned her to face him. She, however, released herself from his grasp, still fuming. 

"You know what your problem is?" She started, not waiting for an answer. "You have this idea that if something is wrong, you can fix it. Guess what? You can't. You have no idea what the world is like for me." 

"Abigail, if your father is hurting you in some way I can help." He insisted. She scoffed. "I can report him. Get you out of there." 

She stepped forward, angry.

"And what would that do to my reputation? My family's? I need to find a husband willing to take care of me and my brothers. If the ton knew he was a drunk, incapable of functioning-- me, not to mention both my brothers, would be ruined." She explained, her tone harsh but her volume low. 

"You cannot fix this. I am not some damsel in need of saving. I can handle—"

But her words were cut off as he suddenly pulled her close and his lips crashed on hers. His hand snaking round her waist and hers instinctually moving to tangle in his hair.

(Ahhhh cliffhanger don't hate me! I already have part of the next chapter written.)