metanoia
/ˌmɛtəˈnɔɪə/
noun
change in one's way of life resulting from penitence or spiritual conversion.
In which the passionate Bridgerton sister doesn't want to marry.
NETFLIX'S Bridgerton Season 1.
Simon Arthur Henry Fitzranulph Basset.
WARNIN...
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••••••
Hastings house, 1813.
The fastest courtship upon record occurred during the markedly wet season of 1804, when Miss Mary Leopold secured a betrothal over a plate of sugared almonds and licorice in just four and a half minutes.
Of course, Miss Leopold and her new husband would leave London mere hours after their wedding.
Reason unknown.
Of all that I have imparted to you, dear reader, there is but one bit of wisdom you must heed most. One can never know the truth of a marriage hiding behind closed doors. Beware indeed, blushing newlyweds. You know not the future that awaits.
Will there be hardship or indignity? Or will one's future see the rarest accomplishment of all, a true love match?
As for which of these fates await the eager matches of the season of 1813, only two things will tell...
Time, and, as always, this author.
••••••
CLARA found herself presumably in the most boring of places she could end up in. Having to sit on a chair was easier, but nevertheless, having a portrait drawn of you felt tiring and she had sat straight for far too long already. Portraits often took hours to complete, although she had done only one before with her sisters, having found this whole experience not worth her time.
Nevertheless, Clara had to sit through it all, even with her husband nearby as he stood a bit away from her, having said no words to Clara after their strange behavior back at that Opera house. Clara had nothing to tell Simon unless he'd approach her himself, and even then she'd have a difficult time forgiving him. After all, she was carrying their child and he chose his distance. Even if Clara had said she did not need him, a part of her felt angry she'd have to do this alone, but then again it was her choice and she was not going to force Simon to do anything.
However, as Henry Granville, one of the most respected artists in the ton, continued to paint them diligently, Clara found herself wanting to tell Simon many things. One of them being how she was forced to host the end of season's ball, not wishing all of this, especially a celebration when there was nothing worth celebrated. Nevertheless, it was customary for a duke and duchess to do so and it had been ages the ton even had a duke and a duchess together.
So, in hopes that after the ball Clara would be left in privacy, she decided to take it on, being busy and yet Jennie and Mrs. Colson helped a lot. Even Violet did everything to assist her daughter, so far having told nobody except Anthony that Clara was with child. Clara appreciated her mother's help, learning from her more than she had learned before she got married.
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A part of Clara felt as though Violet only changed her ways with her daughter because Clara did get married, but the other truly noticed how much the mother tried to understand Clara. It felt strange but at the same time it warmed Clara to be closer to Violet like she had never been before. Clara, though not a mother yet, felt as if she finally understood what it felt like to have a child, either get along with him or on the contrary. Nevertheless, Violet was becoming a good mother to Clara and she needed much support when her own husband lacked it.
Clara continued to sit as she held a straight face, not really upset, but not happy either as Simon stood on her side, holding his hand on the chair instead of her shoulder. Simon's distance was ironically amusing to Clara as he held a straight look on his face, not saying a word after she pushed away his slight attempt to reconnect with her. Clara regretted pushing his hand away that night but could not change her ways. She had her pride to keep and it was clear even then that he hadn't changed his mind.
Henry stared at them weirdly, sighing eventually when he noticed how dull they both looked. "You are permitted to smile, Your Graces," he mused and watched two distant looking people put on their falsest smiles, Henry finding it even worse than when they were dull faced. "All right... Might you both move a bit closer as well?"
Simon cleared his throat and moved an inch towards Clara, the duchess watching him look ahead of himself once again. A slight sarcastic snort escaped her mouth but she focused when Simon gave her a tiniest unpleased glance. "Better," Henry smiled, although his tone suggested Clara that they barely changed anything in their portrait, Clara feeling as though she and Simon were two petty children. Henry then continued to paint as Clara glanced at Simon once again and whispered silently.
"You know, I'm not infectious," Clara said silently, Simon hearing her slightly offended tone. The duke lowered his head to glance at her for a second, remembering the night she pushed away his attempts, feeling a certain pettiness to it, but then again he didn't know what Clara was going through that moment. Simon knew better than to make her feel guilty, so instead he chose something easier for himself, but something he knew he was breaking once again.
"Once this portrait is settled, I will be leaving."
Clara felt whiplashed when she snapped her eyes up at Simon in shock, remembering his promise to stay with her if she was with child. It was not that she felt the need to force him to stay for now, but at least he could've helped her agonize her way through their upcoming ball, which was both of theirs even if Clara was more responsible for creating it. "But you said you'd stay..." she whispered in a hiss, Simon pursing his lips as their eyes met in yet another strange eye contact, both feeling angry and yet more allured.
Simon swallowed his bitterness to Clara's anger, looking away from her briefly when Henry gave them both a look to focus once again. Clara looked ahead of herself as well, not understanding her husband's need to leave even if he had said he'd stay. He was a coward in her eyes, but then again, remembering his own childhood or hatred for his father, Clara wasn't surprised he'd choose to run. "I know," he then whispered when Henry was not looking at them anymore, Clara clenching her jaw. "I just need some time alone."
"How long? 20 years?" Clara asked bitterly, Simon not understanding her fury when she herself had told him that she had this by herself. Now, as he finally told her what he actually hadn't wanted to say, Clara seemed angry and most importantly hurt. Her mood changes confused Simon, but he had heard how women with child could be.
"No, a month at most..." he then trailed off, both of them looking away from each other as Henry glanced at their bitter faces, knowing better than to say anything. However, the portrait he was drawing was not working because of their lack of emotions, Henry wishing to cheer them up somehow. As he glanced at the duke and duchess he saw them whisper amongst each other. "I promised I'd stay if you're with child and I intend to keep my promise."