Chapter Text
1808.
"Anthony!"
"Colin?" Anthony looked up sharply as his brother came tearing into his study, the rebuke against running in the halls dying on his lips the moment he saw the panicked look on his seventeen-year-old brother's face.
"You must make haste. It's Gregory."
"What happened?" Anthony demanded, already out from behind his desk, his younger brother near on having to trot to keep up with his longer stride as he marched from his study, the month-end accounts immediately forgotten.
"We were on our way back when he fell off his horse." Colin panted breathlessly, having pelted back to the house as fast as his legs would carry him on Benedict's frantic order to fetch their eldest brother.
Anthony stopped short, his veins turning to ice as he pictured his youngest brother - only seven years old - being flung from his mount. Broken. Bleeding. Possibly even worse. "He what? Colin, where-"
"Just in the field beyond the stables, Benedict is with him. Please hurry, Anthony. He was crying something awful."
"Then he is awake?" Anthony demanded urgently, forcing his feet back into motion. "And moving? Is he badly hurt?"
"I...I don't know, brother. His arm. I think it might be broken." Colin admitted fearfully, well acquainted with his brother's temper and protectiveness over the babies in particular.
"Nelson!" Anthony roared without warning, making Colin flinch with the abruptness of the shout.
The footman appeared immediately. "My Lord?"
"Send for Dr Francis immediately. Tell him Gregory was thrown from his horse. He is conscious, but may have broken his arm."
"Of course, my Lord." He was out the door in a flash, not bothering to waste time waiting for a formal dismissal or the standard airs and graces. The whole staff had a soft spot for Gregory, a sunny, loving boy untouched by the grief that had still sometimes weighed on his older siblings. If he had truly been thrown from his horse, then there was no time to waste.
Anthony turned back to his younger brother. "Take me to him."
For once, Colin did not question the order and simply turned on his heel and ran, trusting that his older, faster brother would be a step behind him.
They tore through the halls and onto the patio, their boots echoing against the wood and stone. Colin felt his breath straining against his ribs but forced himself to keep running through the rose gardens towards the stables. Benedict was counting on him... Gregory was counting on him.
As they rounded behind the stables, he caught sound of his younger brother's cries. The sound struck him like a physical blow - thin and raw and unmistakably Gregory - and Colin faltered, slowing to a fearful jog as he saw Gregory leaning into Benedict's arms, sobbing and cradling his arm to his chest.
Conversely, Anthony's steps quickened until he skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees next to his brothers, eyes scanning for signs of injury beyond the wrist that was already turning red and swollen.
"Anthony?" Gregory hiccupped, burying his tearstained face into his brother's shoulder. "Anthony, it hurts."
"I know darling, I know." He said gently, easing the young boy out of Benedict's arms and into his own, forcing down the bile as Gregory whimpered as his injured arm was jostled.
Gregory’s small body trembled against his chest, too light, too fragile for the weight of the fear pressing into Anthony’s ribs. He exhaled in relief, trying to steady his shaking hands as Gregory buried closer into him, in pain, yes - but alert and breathing.
With the transfer complete, Anthony also cast his eyes over his eldest younger brother, satisfying himself that despite the redness in Benedict's eyes, he was physically unharmed. He grasped Benedict's forearm in reassurance, the only comfort he could offer with Gregory ensconced against his chest.
"The doctor is on his way. Where is the riding master?" Anthony looked around for Gregory's usual guide. "Someone needs to return the horses to their stable."
Benedict’s mouth tasted sharply of iron and guilt as he swallowed. "He's not here. It was just the three of us."
Anthony looked at him sharply. Surely they would not have taken a boy of seven out riding without a lead or trainer, and worse still, let him fall from his horse? But as Benedict refused to meet his eyes, he knew that was exactly what had happened. The weight of it settled cold and familiar in his chest - another choice made in haste, another consequence landing squarely on him.
His arms subconsciously tightened around his youngest brother; his father's youngest son, entrusted to him for safekeeping. As if he felt his brother's fear and anger rising, Gregory let out another shuddering sob.
"Shhh, I'm here." He hushed softly, anger momentarily evaporating as he turned his attention back to Gregory. "Let's get you back to the house."
Anthony rose gracefully, taking care to keep his steps as even as possible and murmuring gentle reassurances as they began their walk back much more sedately than the frantic pace on the way over. He could feel his heart rate start to slow back to normal and sent up a prayer of thanks that his brother did not appear to be seriously injured.
Benedict scrambled to his feet and stumbled after them. "Anthony, brother-"
"Not now, Benedict." Anthony said sharply, a stark contrast to the soft, calming tones that had already dimmed Gregory's sobs to a sniffle. "Colin, run to the stables and fetch someone to tend to the horses."
Once again, Colin spun and ran off without question, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. Later, Anthony would think that this was probably the first time in years that Colin had followed one of his orders without sass or question, let alone twice in the span of mere minutes, but for now his attention was all for Gregory, dimly aware of Benedict nervously hovering over his shoulder.
As they approached Aubrey Hall, their mother flew out the doors, moving as fast as a woman half her age as she spotted her sons approaching.
"Oh my baby..." She dropped a kiss onto Gregory's head, relieved beyond measure when he turned in his brother's arms to face her. When one of the servants had burst unceremoniously into the drawing room to tell her that Master Gregory had fallen from his horse and his Lordship had demanded the doctor be sent for before racing from the house, she had feared the worst. To see her youngest son awake and moving made the vice around her heart unclench.
"He's being very brave." Anthony offered, causing Gregory to flush with pleasure at the praise from his beloved brother.
"Mama, Ebony threw me off." Gregory sniffed, the trace of indignation in his voice making her smile despite everything.
"I know, sweetheart."
"I hurt my wrist." His bottom lip started to tremble again as he looked down at the swollen joint still grasped against his chest and she combed her fingers through his windswept, tangled hair in comfort.
"I can see, dearest. It must hurt something rotten, but you are being so brave. Anthony..."
"We were just going to the nursery to wait for Doctor Francis." He said calmly, and not for the first time, she marvelled at the man before her. So much like his father who had, on more than one occasion, made this same journey through the house with a crying, injured child in his arms.
She smiled around the lump in her throat, briefly pressing a hand against her eldest son's cheek and stepping back so they could pass. It was then she noticed Benedict hovering behind, eyes down and shoulders hunched and she frowned. Something untoward had happened, and Anthony's next words confirmed it.
"Benedict, wait around the front for the doctor and bring him to the nursery as soon as he arrives. Then you and Colin wait in my study. I will come as soon as Gregory is settled."
Violet raised an eyebrow in askance at Anthony's quiet and cold tone. He never spoke to Benedict like that, the two boys inseparable since the younger had found his feet. Even Gregory, in pain though he was, looked surprised, eyes darting between his two eldest siblings.
Benedict just nodded stiffly and moved to do as requested, making no complaint at his brother treating him like a common footman. Something had definitely happened, but by the way both refused to meet her eyes, Violet knew she would not get the full story just now.
"The girls?" Anthony asked, pulling her attention away from Benedict's retreating back.
"Still with their governess. And Rose will stay with Hyacinth until I return."
He nodded and moved through the halls towards the nursery, murmuring to Gregory so quietly that Violet couldn't catch the words. Once Anthony placed him down on the bed, she immediately settled next to him, wrapping an arm around his slight shoulders and pulling him in to her side. Her little boy, the only one of her sons who would still fit comfortably against her side; even Colin was now a good head taller than her.
Anthony gently eased his brother's riding boots from his feet and tossed them carelessly towards the corner. He then pulled up a chair so he could wait at his brother's bedside, one hand resting on Gregory's ankle, thumb rubbing reassuring circles just below the hem of his breeches.
"What happened, dearest?" Violet asked softly once they were all settled.
"Colin and Benedict said they would take me for a ride to the boundary." Gregory started, picking at the mud which was clinging to his jacket with his good hand. "I was doing everything you told me; Benedict said my posture has improved."
He directed the last part at Anthony who nodded and smiled, although Violet thought it a pale imitation, not even close to reaching his eyes. Still, it was enough for Gregory who smiled brightly in return, his tear-stained cheeks brightening for a moment.
"We were in the last field on our way back and we decided to race. I was winning, Colin and Benedict really are dreadfully slow." Gregory confided, a statement Violet knew full well to be a falsehood, provoking a picture in her mind of the event: Gregory trotting earnestly back to the stables on his pony, his brothers following sedately, calling out their encouragement - until it all went dreadfully awry.
Gregory sniffed as he remembered the moment he realised he was going to fall, the panic of hearing Benedict's voice behind him but not being able to hold and then the pain, worse than he had ever felt in his whole life. "Ebony was bumping me all over and I couldn't catch my grip. I tried to stay on, but I couldn't help it. I slid right off her and when I put my hand out to break my fall it hurt so badly. I'm sorry, Anthony, I didn't mean to. Please don't be cross."
"Gregory, you hardly fell on purpose, why would I be cross with you?" Anthony asked, surprised.
"You're cross with Benedict."
"Benedict should know better than to take you riding without a trainer." Anthony answered evenly, and, well. That explained the atmosphere downstairs, Violet noted.
"You're cross with Colin too."
"Well, I'm always cross with Colin."
That got a giggle out of the younger boy. It was well known in the family that Colin had gone to Eton his first year in awe of his eldest brother and returned a terror, questioning every instruction and spurning any hint of paternal concern. While the situation improved over the years as Colin outgrew some of his petulance and Anthony started to master his quick temper, the sound of the raised voices of the first and third Bridgerton brothers still rang through the halls somewhat regularly.
"So you are really not angry at me?" Gregory asked, just to be sure.
"Really, truly not one bit." Anthony confirmed honestly. His remaining brothers on the other hand...
As if summoned, there was a knock on the door and Benedict's anxious face peered in. "Anthony, Mother. Dr Francis is here."
"Lord Bridgerton, Lady Bridgerton. How is the patient?" He asked, turning kind and twinkling eyes to Gregory the moment he had nodded his dues.
"I fell off my horse and hurt my wrist." Gregory answered matter of factly.
"Oh dear me, let's take a look." He moved to perch on the chair Anthony had vacated. "It's just your arm that hurts? Your brother said you were not going too fast when you fell."
"I was going a full trot!" Gregory protested, causing the adults in the room to stifle their smiles.
"Apologies, Master Bridgerton. And you did not bump your head?"
"I don't think so..."
"He did not." Benedict interjected quietly. "I was right behind him when he fell," his voice caught slightly on the final word.
The doctor nodded. "That is very good indeed. However, we will need to splint this arm, and there will be no more riding for you for a while young man."
"Is Colin back?" Anthony murmured, half an eye on the doctor as he examined Gregory’s arm.
Benedict started in surprise, not having noticed Anthony approach, fixated as he was on his youngest brother's chatting with the doctor as he gave him a tonic laced with laudanum and snipped the sleeve of his coat away for easier access. It could have been so much worse... "Benedict, is Colin back from the stables?"
"Y-yes." He shook himself out of his dark thoughts. "Colin returned just a few minutes after we did. He is waiting in your study."
Anthony nodded and, noting his brother's ashen complexion and the way his gaze was sliding over to Gregory once again, clasped his shoulder tightly. "Gregory will be fine, brother."
Benedict nodded jerkily.
"I'll be down shortly." Anthony said with finality. While he was still angry with Benedict, he certainly didn't wish to torture him by making him witness Gregory's pain as his broken wrist was set and splinted.
Benedict backed out of the room reluctantly, leaving Anthony to take a fortifying breath before turning back to his duty.
"Is Gregory alright?" Colin asked the moment the study door opened.
Anthony took in the scene quickly. Colin sat in the chair opposite his desk, coat slung over the back and sleeves pushed back carelessly, his hair mussed as if he had been running his hands through it desperately. Benedict turned from where he had been looking out the window, his eyes haunted but in contrast to his brother, otherwise as neat as a pin as if he had been frozen in time since the moment Gregory fell, the mud on his breeches the only evidence of the afternoon's misadventure.
Suddenly Anthony felt deeply tired, the hot fire of anger ebbing to embers as he felt the concern radiating from both of his brothers.
"Gregory will be fine. He has a broken wrist, but the doctor says it is not too bad and should heal well."
Both released breaths they did not realise they had been holding.
"Can we see him?"
"Not now, Colin. The doctor gave him laudanum and he is resting peacefully. Mother will stay with him tonight and you can see him in the morning."
Anthony crossed the room to pour himself a measure of whiskey. He needed it after the afternoon he had had, plus he did not want to watch the expressions on Colin's face as he blatantly considered whether or not to argue his brother's decision. The boy was like an open book, and Anthony did not have the patience for it today.
"Now," Anthony started when he finished his shot, Colin thankfully choosing to hold his tongue for once. "Perhaps you can tell me what on earth possessed you to take a boy of seven out riding without a trainer or leading reins?"
Colin looked sideways to Benedict who kept his eyes on the carpet.
"No? No one has a single thing to say?" Anthony said, both his voice and his anger rising again in the heavy silence. "If one of you suffered a broken bone due to my foolish recklessness, father would have tanned my hide."
Colin's eyes widened. Benedict didn't look up from the damned carpet. Anthony felt the threads holding his temper fray.
"I swear, one of you better start talking. Your brother is upstairs, dosed with bloody opium to ease his pain. What the hell happened today?"
"It was an accident." Colin said nervously.
"I damn well know that, Colin, but it should not have been allowed to happen in the first place. I don't know what in the devil's name you were thinking!" Anthony took a deep breath, fighting to regain his temper, but his mind kept flashing back to earlier that afternoon - seeing Gregory's tears and the empty relief at realising that it was only a broken bone, as if such a thing was a mere trifle.
He pushed down the fear that had threatened to overwhelm him and sat down heavily behind his desk - curling his shaking hands into fists beneath the desk before either of his brothers could see.
"He could have been killed," he said quietly - the words landing like a stone in a lake.
For a moment, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the mantle. A shuddering exhale from Benedict. Colin's shoes scuffing on the carpet. Distance footsteps echoing overhead.
Then, Colin cleared his throat.
"We were careful, Anthony," he insisted. "We didn't go too fast, and we stayed within the boundaries."
"Oh, because no member of the family has come to harm within these grounds?" He said coldly, ignoring Benedict's flinch. "For if Gregory had hit his head upon a rock within our boundaries, he would not perish just as surely as our father did?"
"That's not fair," Colin said plaintively. He felt hot tears pricking behind his eyes and blinked them back, determined not to cry. He was not a child anymore.
Anthony scoffed. "Life is not known for being fair, Colin. You know that just as well as I do. Which is why I would have thought you would never be so careless with your little brother's life."
Colin's eyes flashed angrily at the insinuation. "I would never-"
"And yet here we are." Anthony interrupted, his voice cold and hard with anger. This was not their sibling; it was the Viscount and woe betide anyone who endangered his family, even if it was a brother. "And it is Gregory who is made to suffer for your irresponsibility."
"Aren't you going to say anything at all?" Colin hissed to Benedict after another silent pause, trying to hold onto his anger less he burst into tears in front of his older brother's disappointment.
Benedict looked up for the first time, meeting Anthony's eyes. "I am sorry, brother."
"It was an accident!" Colin exclaimed desperately as Anthony nodded in acceptance of the apology. "And you are a fine one to talk about irresponsibility, Anthony. I certainly remember you taking me riding when I was not much older than Gregory is now. And I do not recall you being so concerned about your own accountability when I almost fell from my horse." He finished triumphantly, feeling his point well made.
Anthony leaned forward in his chair, his eyes boring into Colin's in a way that made the younger man, still a boy really, want to shy away. "You are not wrong, Colin. But note the key difference: you almost fell. And pray tell, can you remember why it was only an 'almost'?"
"I...I don't..." Colin trailed off, remembering the second part of that story. The fear of knowing he was losing his balance and falling sideways. The relief of feeling a strong, steading grip around his arm.
"Because I had a hand on your leading reins every step from the stable. Because I never took my eyes off you for a moment. Because I caught you and stopped you from falling. And then I lifted you from your saddle when you were too scared to carry on, and we walked all the way back to the stables." Anthony said, the anger bleeding out of him with every sentence, willing his brother to understand just how precious a younger sibling was.
How much care was required, more than was needed by any dealer of fragile rarities or curator of prized artworks. Some things were truly irreplaceable, tied to the depths of your soul and the beat of your heart in a way that would hollow you out from within should any harm befall it.
"Anthony..."
"I'm not trying to be harsh with you. I know what it is to watch your brother start to fall and not know if you will be able to save him." He turned to Benedict, watching the conversation with red eyes, and softened even further. "I know what it is to hold a member of this family in my arms and be paralysed with fear."
Benedict’s breath shuddered audibly. "Brother-" he choked out.
Anthony shook his head sadly. "I know I cannot always be the eldest brother any more. I wish that was all I had to be for you, and I know you hate me when I have to be the head of this household."
"No, Anthony." Colin protested aghast. "We could never hate you."
"That's not really the point." He waved off the concern, having decided almost five years past that he would rather have his siblings safe and well, rather than be their favourite. "The point is that no matter how much it vexes you - and you can't tell me it doesn't, Colin - I have a responsibility to this family. To keep the Estate, to secure our livelihood, to maintain our family name at Parliament and in society. But most importantly: to ensure that no harm befalls any of you, especially the younger ones."
"You do not have to shoulder all of it alone, Anthony. We are a family." Benedict vowed, and not for the first time, having tried to convince his brother to share his load on multiple occasions.
Anthony held his eyes for a long moment before continuing. "There will be times when I cannot be the eldest brother as well as all those things. I will be called away, or busy with work, or I will drive you to the point of not speaking to me."
The joke fell flat. Benedict's jaw tightly clenched with wet, blinking eyes turned to the ceiling. Now it was Colin's turn to inspect the carpet with his gaze, for once not arguing with his elder brother.
Anthony sighed. This was not going to plan at all. Not that he had had much of a plan when he entered the study beyond royally rollicking his younger brothers so that they would never be so careless again. His eyes drifted to the portrait of his father hung above the fireplace. How would he have handled this?
The room seemed too quiet, the crackle of the fire suddenly too loud in the silence.
Then, out of nowhere, it came to him. "The night Daphne was born, Colin, father brought you to me and told me that the most important thing he would ever ask me to do would be to take care of you."
The younger boy's eyes snapped up to his brother astonished, for Anthony never spoke of their father. Yet here he was, almost smiling (another rarity) at the portrait of a man Colin could only half remember.
"He said that he was trusting me, a boy of eight, to keep you safe. That being your elder brother would be the most important job he ever asked of me, for if I were to learn to be a good brother, then I would grow into a good man. And good men make good fathers, who will in turn teach their sons to be good brothers."
Anthony blinked as if freeing himself from a trance and met the eyes of both his brothers. Benedict, barely sixteen when their father passed and never resentful that his elder brother had monopolised their father's time as the first in line. Colin, still a child when he passed yet now on the cusp of adulthood, a cloak of anger disguising the ache for all he had missed.
"If I cannot be there as the eldest, then I need to know that I can rely on you to be there in my steed and take care of them, just as I would. As I have for both of you." He smiled wanly. "It is the most important thing I will ever ask of you."
The morning after, Violet awakened to the sounds of hushed whispers.
"Sorry, Mother. I hope we didn't wake you." Colin said when he noticed his mother blinking wearily. "Anthony said I could see Gregory this morning and I couldn't wait."
"I did not necessarily mean the break of dawn itself, Colin." Anthony said mildly from the doorway, causing everyone's eyes to swivel at the new arrival. "I hope you didn't wake him."
"I didn't, I swear." Colin promised earnestly. "I waited outside until the nursemaid said I could come in."
"It's true." Gregory piped in. "I was bored and hungry. I missed dinner last night."
"Truly, that is the real tragedy of yesterday." Anthony remarked dryly, crossing over to the bed to place a kiss on his youngest brother's forehead, noting his healthier colour - neither the waxen pallor of the afternoon, nor the delirious flush of the night. "Breakfast is almost ready, I just wanted to see how you were before I head downstairs."
"You know quite well how I am, because you were here well before daybreak yourself and if anything, it is your snoring that kept me awake, not Colin's arrival." Gregory said cheekily.
Anthony laughed, ruffling his brother's hair fondly. "Scamp, I do not snore. And if you don't watch out, I may forget to stop by the kitchens to have them send you up a breakfast tray."
"I suppose I should head downstairs too." Colin said reluctantly, but stilled when he felt Anthony's hand come to rest at the back of his neck.
"Stay." He said softly. "I'm sure the kitchens will prepare a second tray, and Gregory would like the company."
"Really, you don't mind after-?" Colin's eyes slid over to his mother unashamedly listening briefly before snapping back to his brother with a look of devotion that Violet had scarcely seen since he was a boy of twelve. "What I mean to say is, that if you think Cook should not object."
"I like to think my word holds some weight with the kitchen staff." Anthony said dryly, ruffling Colin's hair in the same way as he had Gregory's (although Colin quickly bat him away) before squeezing his shoulder with more meaning. "Stay; I mean it."
Violet watched the exchange with some interest and no small surprise. When Anthony had left the nursery to 'talk' to Colin and Benedict, she had feared the worst. Anthony and Colin squabbled even more than Daphne and Eloise, while Benedict already appeared heartbroken by whatever had led to Gregory's fall, a sequence of events that Anthony had refused to divulge. So it was relief that she noted that if anything, her first- and third-born children's relationship seemed much improved – at least for now.
"Mother?" And they were both now looking at her with concern.
"Hmmm?"
"I asked if you also wished to eat up here. Or perhaps have breakfast sent to your room, if you require more rest." Anthony said, concern furrowing his brow in the way she hated to see.
"No, no dear. That won't be necessary. I shall refresh and be down momentarily."
They left together and the moment the nursery door closed behind them, she turned to her eldest. "Whatever did you say to Colin last night?"
Before Anthony could open his mouth to reply - or most likely refuse to reply - the door opened again and Colin stepped out.
"Mother, I want to apologise for what happened yesterday." He said seriously. "I am so truly sorry about all of it."
"I know you are, Colin." She said touched but confused by the sudden apology. She turned questioning eyes to Anthony, but he was just watching Colin with quiet interest and perhaps a little pride.
"I will take better care of him in the future, you have my word."
"I...Thank you, Colin. I am grateful to know Gregory has you looking out for him." Violet said, stopping herself from the automatic brush off that babies do not need to take care of babies. Colin was growing up, and in that moment, she was not sure if she had ever been prouder of him.
Colin nodded to himself in satisfaction, met his brother's pleased eyes and then turned on his heels to go back into the nursery.
"And again I must ask, what transpired between you last night?" Violet asked as they resumed their walk down the hall.
"Nothing, Mother. We just talked."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, but on this occasion, content to let her sons keep their secrets. "You are a very good brother, Anthony."
His startled but pleased flush warmed her heart. "Thank you, Mother." He said softly, voice filled with more emotion than her usually stoic son would typically show. "It means a great deal to me that you think so."
1792.
Daphne Bridgerton, not that that was known to be her name just yet, was born on a snowy night at the onset of winter. Her unexpected and slightly premature arrival throwing Aubrey Hall into panicked chaos, the likes of which - God willing - her father hoped she would never cause again a day in her life.
As Violet's pained screams echoed down the halls, Edmund's feet itched to return to her bedside, but he forced himself to focus on the nurse maid before him as she tried to raise her voice over both his wife and the squalling infant in her arms.
"The roads are unpassable, my Lord. There will be no doctor for my Lady tonight."
"Here," he said, abruptly taking a crying Colin from her arms as Violet gasped a particularly heart wrenching cry. "You have coached a woman through birth before, have you not? You are much more useful to my wife than I am right now. I will ask one of the footmen to care for Colin until morning."
A doubtful look conveyed just how unlikely she felt either of the house's twenty-something, childless footman would be able to calm a distraught baby, but she wisely decided to keep that thought to herself and hurried off to help tend to the Lady of the house.
Now to track someone down who could take care of Colin so he could get back to his wife's side, ideally before she birthed his next progeny. House staff did not typically have children, but surely at least one of the useless bunch would have younger siblings or a close cousin to know enough how to soothe a crying infant?
"Papa?"
"Anthony, what are you doing out of bed?" He winced as Violet cried out again. He must get to her...
"What's going on?"
...just as soon as he had allayed the fears of a frightened boy and offloaded an inconsolable baby. He fixed a smile on his face.
"Something wonderful is happening, Anthony. By morning you shall have a new brother or sister."
"It doesn't sound very wonderful." He said doubtfully, eyeing both the closed door to the master suite and his screaming younger brother.
"Ah but do you not remember your mythology? The greatest rewards only come after you have passed a trial." He promised, shifting Colin in his arms as he attempted to throw himself towards his brother, having made his displeasure by his father's distracted embrace loudly known. "Anthony, son, I know it is late but could you please take your brother for a few minutes whilst I try to track down...a...how did you do that?"
Colin's screams had quietened to sobs as his brother leaned him against his chest, rubbing firm circles against his back and the baby burrowed his face into Anthony's shoulder.
"Mama showed me how."
Edmund made a split-second decision. "Anthony, I am going to ask you to help me with something very important. Probably the most important thing I will ever ask you to do for me, do you understand?"
The young boy nodded fiercely in a way which, in any other circumstances, would have him smiling at his youthful determination.
"I need you to look after Colin for me, so that I can look after Mama. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes Papa." Anthony said dutifully, although his look at his brother somewhat gave away his displeasure at the request. Truth be told, he did not quite see what all the fuss was about when it came to babies. He would much rather be climbing trees or going ice skating with Benedict than keeping watch over Colin who couldn't even walk on his own yet.
"Anthony," Edmund crouched down, casting an anxious look towards the master chambers where he could see a maid rush in with a streaming jug of water. "If there is anything I can teach you in this world, let it be this: the best, most important thing I can ask you to be is a good big brother. To always look out for Benedict, Colin and the new baby; to help them and care for then when I am not there. You are the oldest, and they will look up to you as much as they do to your mother and I."
"If you can be a good big brother, then you will assuredly grow into a good man. And a good man will be a good father, who will in turn teach his own sons to be good brothers and the cycle starts anew."
Anthony, face rapt with attention, nodded solemnly. "You can count on me, Papa."
"I know, my son, I know." He kissed the top of his head quickly. "I must get to your mother. Knock on the door if you need anything."
Scarcely a half hour later, Daphne Bridgerton was born. Edmund re-entered the nursery later that night and stopped to commit the sight before him to memory.
Colin, fast asleep, flat on his back, one arm cast out towards his brother who himself was also asleep, curled up uncomfortably in a chair pressed up against the crib with a hand still reaching out where his brother lay. They had clearly fallen asleep hand-in-hand and, despite Edmund's eagerness to get back to his wife and new baby, he knew this was a moment he would want to capture like an oil painting in his mind.
"Anthony?" Eventually he moved to awaken his oldest child. "Do you want to meet your baby sister?"
A smile blossomed on his young face, despite the hour and lack of sleep. "Mama had the baby?"
"She did. And it's a girl." He confirmed, leading him through the halls and to where his wife was now resting, the tiny bundle wrapped in her arms.
Violet smiled reassuringly. "Anthony, this is Daphne. Daphne, say hello to your big brother."
He reached out tentatively to trace a finger over her clenched little fist and through the wispy hair peeking out from a bonnet. "She's very, umm, pretty."
Edmund laughed heartily as Violet smothered her own smile, both looking down at the tiny newborn, still pink and soft and wrinkled from birth. "She has had a bit of a night, but mark my words. She will grow to be a true beauty, just like your mother."
Violet snorted in a decidedly unpretty way, making her husband smirk happily. Their son paid them no heed, still looking down at his new sister and her heart swelled with love, just when she thought it was full to the brim for one night.
"Your Papa said you were very helpful with Colin tonight, Anthony." Violet said, smiling tiredly. "You're such a good boy."
He shrugged, still tracing a soft finger through baby Daphne's scrap of hair.
"I was just trying to be a good brother."
Coda.
1808.
"Please, Benedict."
"I said no, Eloise."
"You have been saying no for weeks now." She complained, stopping just short of stamping a slippered foot in disproval. Mama said little ladies did not stomp. "I should have thought every other child in all of England has gone swimming by this point in summer."
"I doubt that very much." He snapped uncharacteristically. "And I told you it was too cold in the lake still. What if you were to catch a chill? What if you were to get ill or worse? Would you wish that I have that on my conscience?"
"Benedict!" Came Anthony's shocked exclamation.
Eloise turned at the interruption and flew to her eldest brother, flinging her arms around his waist and burying watery eyes in his stomach.
"Shit." Benedict cursed, feeling thoroughly wretched with himself. "I'm sorry, El. I did not mean to shout."
Eloise sniffed loudly and ignored him, tilting her head back to look at Anthony. "Will you take me to the lake, Anthony?"
Anthony looked down at her, then over at Benedict's pained expression and made a snap decision. "We shall all go. Tomorrow."
She squealed excitedly. "Really? You too, Benedict?"
"Benedict and Colin too." Anthony confirmed on behalf of his siblings, ignoring the daggers the elder was sending him as he spoke. "You can ask Daphne too, if you can convince her to step foot in the water."
"And why would I waste my breath when both you and I know perfectly well that she will do no such thing?" Eloise laughed, then immediately contradicted herself by running off calling her sister's name.
"Are you sure that is a good idea, brother?" Benedict said stiffly into the silence that followed.
"Swimming in July has never done us any harm before." Anthony replied evenly.
"It has been unseasonably cold this year." Benedict reminded him primly.
"And you and I have swum in that lake from April through October. What is this really about, Benedict?" Anthony asked, sitting down next to his brother.
The silence stretched on.
"You know, it is a fine line between caring and coddling."
More silence.
Anthony sighed and clapped him on the thigh. "Very well. If you won't talk, then we shall go for a ride. Perhaps the fresh air will do you good."
That didn't actually sound like a bad idea, it felt like the walls were stifling him, so Benedict quickly changed into riding clothes and headed to meet his brother in the stables... Which was when he realised just what an awful idea this was.
"You cannot be serious, Anthony?!" He hissed, dragging his brother out of the stable where none other than Gregory was sat beaming happily in his full riding gear as the stable boys tacked his pony. "His wrist is barely recovered and you want him to get back on that horse? What if he falls again?"
"Do not frighten him." Anthony whispered back urgently, pulling his brother further away less he dampen Gregory's excitement. "His doctor said it was fine. Gregory wishes to ride. It seems the only person not ready for this, is you."
"Forgive me for wanting to keep my brother safe. As, so I believed, you wanted from us." He tried to walk away, but his brother's grip on his arm pulled him up short.
"I asked that you pay a mind to his safety. Not that you lock him away from the world." Anthony said, not without kindness. "It is, quite frankly, terrifying for me too. Yet Greg is clearly braver than both of us for he is in there, ready to get back on his pony and try again."
"What if he gets hurt again, Anthony?" Benedict breathed in a rush, voicing the thoughts which had plagued his nights for the last two months.
"Honestly? He is a little boy. One day, he probably will." Anthony sighed, well acquainted with his brother's fears. "That is why we must teach him - all of them - to ride or swim or anything, so that when we are not right there to protect them, they will not fall. But today is not that day, and we will each be aside of Gregory and we will not permit him to be hurt. Do we have an accord?"
Benedict sighed and nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in his brother's words. "I'm sorry, brother. I fear I might have been somewhat of a brat these last two months."
"What are little brothers for?" Anthony said wryly, drawing a chuckled from Benedict's lips. "But you need not apologise to me. If anyone would understand..."
Benedict nodded, easily conceding the point. "You can talk to me too, you know. It is not only the elders who wish to be good brothers."
Anthony nodded slightly stiffly. While he relied on his brother for a great many things, his fears of hurting or failing the family were not a topic he wished to discuss. He turned back to walk towards the stable, seeing Gregory already atop his pony, smiling widely.
"Can we go now?" Gregory whined the moment he caught sight of his brothers.
Anthony rolled his eyes. "Just as soon as I double check your tack..."
Now Gregory rolled his eyes as his brother crosschecked every strap and harness to ensure he was safely saddled. "He does this every time. Even though it is completely unnecessary." Gregory complained as Benedict quickly checked his own gear and mounted his horse before bringing it up alongside his youngest brother.
"I don't think it is unnecessary at all. In fact, if Anthony were not doing those checks right now, then I would do it all in his steed." Benedict chided gently, causing Anthony to smile slightly as he checked the leading rein connection that would ensure Gregory's horse stayed alongside his own. "One day, we will teach you how to tack your own horse, but until that day comes, you will have to put up with Anthony or I checking your kit. It's what brothers are for."
"Right, shall we be off?" Anthony asked blandly when he had assured himself that Gregory's horse was adequately prepared, pretending he had not been eavesdropping on his brothers’ conversation. He took the end of the leading rein from the stable boy, and held it out to Benedict expectantly.
Benedict spluttered. "Me? But surely you would rather-"
"It's time to get back on the horse, brother." Anthony interrupted softly. "I trust you."
And then he passed the reins.