SUTHERLAND ▹ Colin Bridgerton

act i; part i

act i; part i
THE CRACK IN THE WALL

THE SOCIAL SEASON OF 1814 WAS SET TO BEGIN. After last season's peculiarities and excitements, the ton was eager for what was to come. Ladies and gentlemen bustled around Grosvenor Square. They read the words of Lady Whistledown's newest scandal sheet. Mamas read the all-knowing phrases of the anonymous scribbler and gasped at the news of Colin Bridgerton's return from his travels. The third eldest Bridgerton was handsome and respectable, and perfectly eligible in all regards. Colin Bridgerton was a perfect husband for their dear daughters. Lady Whistledown made note of the Bridgerton-Sutherland feud, as they often did. The Ton were addicted to the dramatics between the two families and they anticipated another cutthroat season.

But, the current events of Grosvenor Square went unknown to Margaret 'Maisie' Sutherland as she read her book. Lost in a world of fiction and romance. She was sitting on the chaise in her bedroom, cozied up next to the fire. Although it was spring, Maisie was always cold.

The noise of her bedroom door thrown open caused Maisie to jump in her seat, dropping the book to her lap. The twins, Maxwell and Mildred, came rushing into the room.

"Maxwell!" Mildred shouted, chasing her brother around Maisie's room. "Give my bracelet back, grandmama gave it to me!"

Maxwell laughed as he avoided his sister's futile attempts to grab the bracelet.

Maisie stared at the seventeen-year-old twins in shock. "Uhm, please deal with this elsewhere—"

Her words were interrupted by Maxwell tripping over his feet and falling into the wall. A loud crash sounded as he fell, bringing the large painting down with him. The painting, a beautiful image of a meadow, tumbled to the floor. It leant against the pale green wallpaper of her room.

Maisie gasped, bottom lip dropping from the twins' actions. Abruptly, she stood up from her seated position by the fireplace. In a hushed whisper, she scolded, "Maxwell! Mildred!"

"No need to worry dear sisters, for I am quite alright," Maxwell reassured. With haste, the seventeen-year-old boy pushed himself from the ground, brushing debris from his pant leg. A mischievous glint danced across his brown eyes, and a smirk toyed at his lips. Maxwell eyed the large painting leaning against the wall, a snort fell from his nose. "Slight collateral damage, I see. All is fair in amusement though — the painting was quite horrendous nonetheless."

"I will not have you two destroy my bedroom again, leave. Now." Maisie demanded.

A few weeks prior, Maxwell and Mildred nearly set the entire house ablaze. Perhaps, it was a small blessing, but Maisie's room was at the brunt of the damage, leaving the rest of the Sutherland house unharmed. The fire itself was not large, but, the effects could have been detrimental. Maxwell had the grand idea of toying with the logs in the fireplace. In consequence, he set the rug and curtains ablaze. Winston, the footman, took quick notice and handled the situation before it became uncontrollable. Maisie's walls and floorboards were scorched black.