The grand wedding at the palace garden was a spectacle to behold, a vision of opulence that captivated all who were fortunate enough to witness it. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the gardens as the guests gathered, their whispers of anticipation swirling through the crisp evening air.
With the Queen’s blessing and the entire ton in attendance, Octavius Cavendish stood tall at the altar, her heart racing not with nerves, but with an overwhelming sense of joy. Beside her, Francesca Bridgerton, resplendent in her gown of ivory silk, had never looked more radiant. Her beauty was rivaled only by the happiness that shone in her eyes, eyes that met Octavius’ with a promise of eternal love.
As the vows were exchanged, the air seemed to shimmer with the weight of the moment. “I do,” Francesca whispered, her voice steady, yet filled with emotion. “And I, with all my heart,” Octavius replied, her words echoing in the grand garden hall, a vow not just to love, but to cherish and protect.
The garden hall, adorned with crystal chandeliers and floral arrangements that cascaded like waterfalls, was a place where joy danced on every surface. Laughter rang out, and the couple was lauded as the Marquess and Marchioness of Hartington, their titles a prelude to the future that awaited them as the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire.
But the morning held a surprise that no one could have anticipated. A murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd when the King himself, long absent from public life, made his entrance. Dressed in the regal attire of his station, he moved with a grace that belied the rumors of his ill health. His eyes, sharp and aware, scanned the room before settling on Octavius and Francesca. A soft smile played on his lips as he inclined his head in acknowledgment.
His presence added an unexpected grandeur to the event. In truth, Octavius had spoken to her father before the ceremony, promising him a bountiful harvest with no dead crops if he sat still and smiled at everyone. It was a gentle trick, but one that worked, as Octavius still knew how to calm her father with promises of prosperity.
The celebration continued as a private ceremony in the Bridgerton House later that day. In the drawing room, laughter echoed off the walls and well-decorated tables. The family had gathered for a small, private celebration—though with the Bridgertons and most of the Cavendish family, even a “small” gathering was a lively affair. It was a rare moment where all the Bridgerton siblings were together, along with a few close friends (mostly the Featheringtons), and now, their new family, the Cavendishes, the atmosphere was one of relaxed joy and playful teasing.
As the evening wore on, Anthony, ever the responsible head of the family, had taken it upon himself to oversee the distribution of champagne. His sharp eyes missed nothing, or so he believed.
“Colin, I’ve counted. That’s your third glass,” Anthony remarked with an air of authority, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’m telling your wife,”
Colin, lounging comfortably on a cushioned bench, shot him a lazy grin. “Ah, but dear brother, you’re forgetting the number of glasses you haven’t counted.”
Benedict, who had been sketching the scene in his ever-present notebook, snorted. “He’s got you there, Anthony. Besides, it’s not like you’ve been nursing your glass. Quite the opposite, I’d say.”
Anthony gave him a mock glare but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his attention to Daphne, who was deep in conversation with her husband, the Duke of Hastings. They were discussing something serious, or so it appeared, until Daphne suddenly burst into laughter, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.
“Oh, Simon, you’re impossible!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Only for you, my dear,” Simon replied smoothly, though his own grin gave away the mischief behind his words.
On the other side of the hall, Eloise was engaging in a discussion with Penelope Bridgerton about her soon to be released Lady Whistledown column.
“I’m telling you, Eloise, I think it’s proper to finally put my name on the column,” Penelope insisted, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
Eloise, ever the skeptic, shook her head. “Well I—I suppose. The Queen did give you her blessings.”
“It’s also to prevent future imposters pretending to be Whistledown—” Penelope defended before being cut off
“Pen, isn’t that the widowed Cavendish you wrote about?” Eloise spoke up as she saw a woman sitting calmly and composed at a corner. “Where ever did you get the information of her being back in the marriage mart anyway?” She asked but Penelope stayed silent not wanting to reveal her source.
The source being the most sought after modiste, Madame Delacroix, who got the information from the Countess Clara Cavendish herself when she was measuring her for a new dress.
Eloise narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Why do I get the feeling you know more than you’re letting on?”
Before Penelope could respond, a loud crash interrupted the conversation. All heads turned to see Gregory, who had somehow managed to tip over a table of refreshments while attempting to snatch a pastry.
“Gregory!” Hyacinth cried, half in outrage, half in laughter. “That was the last of the lemon tarts!”
“Sorry! I was hungry!” Gregory’s sheepish grin didn’t win him much sympathy as Hyacinth stormed over to him, ready to give him a piece of her mind.
Meanwhile, Francesca, who had been sitting quietly, contended in watching her family have fun, had finally stood up to join their festivities. She took in the scene—Gregory trying to placate Hyacinth with a ruined tart, Colin and Benedict holding their sides in laughter, Anthony teasing Gregory for making Hyacinth angry (yet again), and Daphne exchanging a knowing look with Simon—and she couldn’t help but chuckle.
“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Francesca murmured to herself, though her smile showed she wouldn’t have it any other way. She loved her family’s chaos and couldn’t help but smile despite the rather clumsy commotion the youngest siblings have caused.
Lady Bridgerton and Kate (the new Lady Bridgerton), who had been watching the youngest children with fond exasperation, finally decided to intervene. “Alright, enough mischief for one day. Gregory, you will clean up that mess. Hyacinth, let him be. And Colin, if you have another glass, I’ll make you help Gregory.” Lady Bridgerton scolded
“And Anthony, stop teasing him.” Kate tried her best to keep her husband from teasing the youngest brother
The Bridgerton siblings grumbled good-naturedly but obeyed, knowing better than to test the two Lady Bridgeton’s patience.
“You think it’s a requirement to have a stern attitude to be a Viscountess Bridgerton?” Octavius playfully asked her wife who only laughed at her question
Before the celebrations drew to a complete halt, Francesca and Octavius decided to announce to both families that the newly wedded couple would settle in Bolsover Castle in Derbyshire, a place Octavius described as peaceful and perfect for the tranquility Francesca desired.
Francesca and Octavius exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. It was time to share their plans with their families—a decision they had discussed in quiet moments between chatters and toasts.
“May I have everyone’s attention?” Octavius called out, her voice cutting through the soft murmurs. The room gradually fell silent as all eyes turned towards the newlyweds.
Francesca stepped closer to her wife, her hand finding hers, and together they stood before the assembled company. There was an air of anticipation as the Bridgertons and Cavendishes waited for what was to come.
“We have some news to share,” Francesca began, her voice steady yet filled with excitement but used Octavius as a shield from all the attention as she slightly hid behind her.
“First, a toast, if I may” Octavius raised her own glass as she looked at her wife who was standing next to her. “To my beautiful wife, I have not words to express my adoration.” She smiled at her, “A fact for which I am sure you must be grateful, as I know you are loath to be made the center of attention for too long.” They all laughed at this
“Which is why I am willingly taking this opportunity to speak on behalf of us two. But before that, I shall offer a few humble words to my new family, who have accepted with all that I am. Especially my new mama, Lady Violet Bridgerton. I see your openness reflected in Benedict, your charm in Colin, your wisdom in Eloise, and a brightness you have instilled in both Gregory and Hyacinth.” She paused to smile at all of them, each one smiling back. “In this moment when I feel so much gratitude for my wife, I feel it in equal measure for the remarkable woman who raised her. I thank you,” She looked around. “all of you, from the bottom of my heart.” She raised her glass once again for a toast
Francesca squeezed Octavius arm, slightly nervous of what her mother would react on their decision, “And finally, for our announcement, Francesca and I have decided where we will settle as we begin our life together.”
A murmur of curiosity spread through the room. Lady Bridgerton, standing near the fire, straightened slightly as she swept a few tears forming in her eyes from Octavius’s kind words.
Octavius squeezed Francesca’s hand back before continuing. “We’ve chosen Bolsover Castle in Derbyshire as our home.”
There was a moment of silence as the news sank in, and then the reactions began. The Bridgertons exchanged surprised glances, while the Cavendishes nodded with understanding. The Belsover Castle, was after all, the prime residence of the Marquess of Hartington.
“B-Bolsover Castle?” Hyacinth stammered, her wide eyes reflecting both surprise and a hint of intrigue. “A proper castle?” She already imagined herself visiting her sister’s castle and pretending to be a princess.
Lady Bridgerton on the other hand was a stark contrast to what Hyacinth’s excitement showed. “But I thought you’d be living at Cavendish House.”
“We considered it,” Francesca explained gently. “But Octavius thought—”
“Francesca desired a place of peace and tranquility,” Octavius interjected, smiling at her wife. “And Bolsover Castle is exactly that. It’s nestled in the heart of Derbyshire, away from the bustle, a perfect place for us to start our life together.”
The room buzzed with conversation as the family processed this unexpected news. Bolsover Castle, while much grander than the Cavendish House, takes a week time to travel from Mayfair. The castle was known for its serene beauty, with rolling hills and lush forests surrounding it—a perfect retreat for those seeking calm and privacy.
“But what about Cavendish House?” Lady Bridgerton asked, her voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Her gaze fixed on Francesca, her brow furrowed in concern. “It’s not an equally magnificent estate, but you would have been so close to us.”
Francesca hesitated, feeling the weight of her mother’s expectations, but her heart was set on the peaceful life that Bolsover Castle promised. “We will always be close, Mama,” Francesca assured her. “Bolsover may be farther away, but it’s where we feel we belong. It’s a place where we can build our own life, with its own rhythm and pace.
Lady Bridgerton sighed softly, a mix of acceptance and lingering sadness in her eyes. “I suppose I cannot argue with that. A mother must let her children find their own path, even if it takes them farther than she’d hoped.”
“I promise we’ll visit often,” Octavius added with a reassuring smile. “And you are always welcome at Bolsover Castle. We’ll make sure it’s a home for all who wish to come.”
Benedict, always one for levity, broke the somber mood with a grin. “Just make sure you have enough rooms ready for all of us when we do decide to visit!”
Laughter rippled through the room, lightening the air once more. The family’s initial surprise gave way to acceptance, and soon the conversation turned to the future—plans for visits, letters, and the inevitable family gatherings that would still bring them together.
“Mama, will you play a duet with me?” Francesca requested as she seek to bond with her mother before she moved out of the Bridgerton House
The request took Lady Bridgeron by surprise as she chuckled, “Have a duet? Now? I—Well, I am dreadfully out of practice.”
“I believe the last time I nearly moved you to tears was when I first started playing.” Francesca insisted in which Eloise found amusing as she jest, “She’s not the only one. I wept in my room from the hideous chord combinations.”
Francesca faked her laugh at this before persuading her mother once more. “Thankfully, Mama did not abandon me. And I shall not abandon you now.”
“Is that a threat?” Lady Bridgerton joked as she recalled the earlier announcement
Francesca innocently smiled at her mother before holding her hand and leading her to play the pianoforte. Both of them sat together and smiled as they started playing, the tunes were a mess but everyone smiled and laughed as they watch the beautiful and warm scene unfolding before them.
As the evening continued, Francesca felt a sense of peace settle over her. They had made the right decision, and while it meant leaving behind the familiar comforts of home, it also marked the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.
“So… Derbyshire,” Eloise started
“I only want peace and quiet, away from all the brewing scandals of the ton,” Francesca explained. “We’ve been such a… topic this season. We deserve some quiet now.”
“Of course, of course…” Eloise put a thought into it
“Now that I am wed, Mother’s attention may turn to you again.” Francesca teased her older sister as she hated being pushed into dancing and talking to the boring men who were highly discriminatory towards women
“Or, I might have come up with a rather brilliant idea,” she began, pausing for dramatic effect. “Or a request, rather.”
Francesca arched an eyebrow, waiting. “Let me accompany you to Derbyshire?” Eloise smiled nervously. “Mama will love the idea of me keeping an eye on you. But in truth, I simply wish to live for a little while outside our tiny bubble. Have some adventures. I cannot change the world without seeing more of it.”
Francesca pondered this, thinking about her cherished peace and quiet. But before she could respond, Eloise added quickly, “I promise you, I will give you your space. You won’t even remember I came with you. What do you think?”
Francesca smiled, appreciating her sister’s honesty and enthusiasm. “As long as you stay in your wing of the castle,” she teased, wanting to see Eloise’s reaction.
Eloise’s eyes widened in shock and delight. “We will be living in a proper castle?”
“We?” Octavius asked as she heard the tail of their conversation
“Eloise has asked to accompany us.” She answered truthfully
“If that does not burden you, my dear new bro—sister—I still don’t get it.” Eloise looked at Octavius with a confused expression
Octavius only laughed at this before agreeing and letting Eloise stay with them. But unbeknownst to the married couple, Eloise was far from listening to their discussion of traveling and settling as she locked eyes with Octavius’s cousin. It was a fleeting moment, unplanned and unexpected. Clara, with her graceful composure and striking auburn hair, had been laughing at something Philippa Featherington said. But when her eyes locked with Eloise’s, the laughter faded, replaced by a look that was both curious and intense.
It was only when she heard her name being mentioned that she was able to break the eye contact. “Eloise will stay on the opposite side of our wing.” Francesca requested, or rather ordered for it to be that way.
And so, the Marquess and Marchioness of Hartington, along with Eloise, began their new chapter in the serene embrace of Bolsover Castle. The echoes of their love and adventures filled the halls, marking the beginning of a peaceful and hopeful future.
One sunny afternoon, Octavius led Francesca to the castle’s expansive gardens. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle hum of bees created a peaceful symphony. Hand in hand, they wandered along the garden paths, occasionally stopping to admire a particularly beautiful rose or a vibrant bed of daisies.
“You know,” Octavius said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I never imagined I could be this happy. You’ve brought such light into my life, Francesca.”
Francesca blushed, her heart swelling with affection. “And you, Octavius, have given me a sense of calm and belonging I never knew I needed.”
They shared a tender kiss, a promise of their enduring love. As they pulled apart, they heard a rustling noise behind a nearby hedge. With a mischievous grin, Octavius whispered, “I believe we have a little spy.”
Peeking around the corner, they found Eloise, trying and failing to look inconspicuous. She straightened up, caught in the act, and flashed them a sheepish smile. “I was just… admiring the flowers,” she said, not quite convincingly.
Francesca laughed, pulling Eloise into their little circle. “You’re welcome to join us, Eloise. After all, we did promise you some adventures.”
Eloise’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I was hoping you’d say that! I’ve found the most enchanting little nook at the far end of the garden. You simply must see it.”
With Eloise leading the way, the trio wandered through the garden, eventually arriving at a secluded corner where a quaint stone bench sat beneath a canopy of flowering vines. The scene was idyllic, straight out of a fairy tale.
“This is lovely, Eloise,” Francesca said, genuinely impressed. “You’ve got quite an eye for hidden gems.”
Eloise beamed with pride. “I thought this would be the perfect spot for you two since you love to escape the world in the garden.”
Octavius nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Eloise. It’s perfect.”
As they sat together on the bench, Eloise chattered away about her plans to explore the nearby villages and perhaps even write a book about her Derbyshire adventures. Francesca and Octavius listened, their hearts full of warmth and affection for their spirited companion.
“You know,” Octavius said, a glint of mischief in her eyes, “we could invite my cousin to join us. She lives nearby at Welbeck in Nottinghamshire. Eloise, you’d love her—she’s as adventurous as you are.”
Eloise’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That sounds wonderful! Not only would I get to explore Derbyshire, but I could add Nottinghamshire to the list of places I’ve visited. And meeting your cousin sounds delightful.”
“I believe you have met her during our wedding celebrations.” Octavius reminded her
Francesca smiled, seeing the excitement in her sister’s eyes. “It’s settled, then. We’ll plan a visit to Welbeck, and perhaps your book will be filled with even more adventures than you originally imagined.”
Eloise clapped her hands together, her face glowing with anticipation. “I can hardly wait! Thank you, Octavius. This is going to be the best adventure yet.”
As they watched Eloise’s enthusiasm, Francesca and Octavius exchanged a knowing look. This was just the beginning of many more stories to come, each filled with the promise of love, laughter, and the thrill of new adventures.
The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the garden. Octavius wrapped an arm around Francesca’s shoulders, pulling her close. “This is exactly what I hoped for,” she murmured. “A peaceful life with you, surrounded by those we love.”
Francesca smiled, resting her head against Octavius’s shoulder. “And it’s only just beginning.”
Eloise, seeing the tender moment, quietly excused herself, promising to bring them tea later. As she walked away, she glanced back, her heart full of happiness for her sister and Octavius. It was a moment of pure joy, a testament to the love and unity that had brought them all together.
As she strolled through the peaceful gardens, Eloise couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing. She had always thought she was content with her independence, embracing the idea of being a spinster. But seeing her best friend wedded and now, her younger sister basking in the glow of newly married love, made her wonder.
Maybe, she mused, she did want something more. Witnessing the deep connection between Francesca and Octavius stirred a longing she had kept buried. What would it be like to have someone to share her life with? Someone who understood her, challenged her, and loved her as fiercely as Octavius loved Francesca?
Eloise sighed softly, a wistful smile playing on her lips. Perhaps love was not as far out of reach as she had once thought. As she continued her walk, the possibilities of her own future began to unfold in her mind, filling her with a sense of hopeful anticipation.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Eloise decided that her adventures in Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire would not only be about exploration but also about discovering what she truly wanted in life.
For now, though, she would bring tea to her sister Francesca and her wife, cherishing the joy of this moment and looking forward to what her own future might hold.
And so, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Francesca and Octavius sat in their enchanted nook, content and hopeful for the future, knowing that whatever adventures lay ahead, they would face them together, surrounded by love and laughter.
Comment