Chapter Text
India, 1820.
Two years after Michaela Stirling fled London.
“Well my days you sure know how to show a lady a splendid time,” an unclothed woman lay breathless and satisfied across the bed. She propped her head to find the cause of her pleasure sat at the desk across the room, in another world. She got up from the bed and crossed the room after no response.
“Where are you?” She raises her hand to rub her back. “Michaela?”
“Oh I- my apologies, it seems I am not present” Michaela had her eyes glued to the window in front of her and only offered a quick glance and grin to the lady beside her.
“That’s quite alright. You did enjoy our time together, yes? You did not let me touch you, maybe I could-”
“No! I mean-” Michaela quickly turns her body to face the woman. “I had a splendid time. Really. You could say I just prefer to experience the pleasure of a beautiful woman rather than my own.” She offers the best smile she can muster.
“Well when you put it that way..” the woman leans down to press a kiss to her lips. “You are quite the charmer Michaela, however I do wish one day you take that pleasure for yourself and give in.” With that the lady offers one last kiss to her cheek before dressing and leaving the room.
Michaela remains stuck to the chair replaying the words she just heard in her head. My pleasure? My pleasure is impossible. My pleasure would destroy John’s legacy. Giving into what I feel for his widow would cause nothing but harm and is precisely why I left London.
Since fleeing Kilmartin House over two years ago, Michaela had traveled to many places. Italy, France, Spain. She even made a secret voyage back to Scotland after becoming much too homesick. And now she had found herself in India for a couple weeks now, enjoying the company of the beautiful Indian women.
She wrote to her mother constantly, mostly about her travels, the interesting people she would meet, and all the lovely foods she was enjoying. She couldn’t bear to pick up the pen to write to Francesca. Afraid everything she was feeling for her cousin’s wife would spill itself all over the page. She was sure her mother informed Janet of her travels and assumed Francesca would have been told where she had fled to.
That night she had left without a word haunted her. She would have nightmares of Francesca alone and scared in the castle all by herself. The last glance of Kilmartin from her carriage was etched into her mind. But that was at night, for during the day, Michaela was far too distracted to even think about Francesca Bridgerton. Meeting new faces, seeing new cities, experiencing different cultures. She was having the time of her life but she was not happy. Not truly. The pain of losing her cousin, feeling like she had betrayed him, and the ache in her heart for a woman she could never have.
But Michaela Stirling acted as if the truth didn’t exist. Pretended what she felt didn’t matter, that it wasn’t proper. And after all the sweeping under the rug, Michaela would drown any and everything out with booze. Countless nights drinking enough to forget her own name and forget the name of the woman she secretly longed for.
With the thought of Francesca on her mind, brandy soon replaced it as Michaela rose from the desk to pour herself a glass. After finishing her second glass a knock on the door comes. “Yes? Come in” Michael sets down the glass. Her ladies maid slowly opens the door.
“Apologies to disturb you at this time Ms. Stirling it’s just a letter has arrived for you and I figured you’d want to read it right away” she extends her hand out with the letter.
“Ah thank you, I assume my mother as usual” Michaela knowingly says and starts to walk towards her hand outstretched.
“No ma’am, the Queen actually” Michaela stops in her tracks.
“The Queen?? Are you certain” her lady’s maid nods her head. Michaela quickly takes the letter and goes back to her desk to read it. Michaela rips open the letter and reads,
Ms. Michaela Stirling
The Kilmartin estate requires your attention as soon as possible. Since your cousin Lord Kilmartin’s passing, no heir has been selected. I have been informed of Scotland’s custom of allowing women to inherit estates and I am willing to honor such a custom. Do not make me regret my kindness.
Francesca Stirling has done well in your absence but the Kilmartin affairs have gone far too long without proper management. I look forward to seeing you back on English soil.
Queen Charlotte
“Fuck,” Michaela places the letter on the desk and stares out the window. “Tell the coachmen to ready the carriage for the morning. We are to return to London at once.” The lady’s maid nods her head and swiftly leaves the room.
Francesca. London. Inheriting Kilmartin.
There was much for Michaela to think about. John’s legacy was now being put in her hands. By the Queen. Which meant she would have to face Francesca. After all this time. Could she even be able to look at her? It didn't matter. She had a responsibility to John now. That is all that mattered.
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1820
Bridgerton House. London.
Two years after Michaela Stirling left Francesca Bridgerton.
“We are all to have dinner one day soon, who knows when Sophie will give birth and I should like us all to have one last family dinner before the little one’s arrival don't you think? Francesca? Francesca??” Violet tapped on her daughter’s shoulder. Francesca looks startled. “Are you alright love? Your mind is elsewhere. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing mama, I am quite alright do not worry about me”
“Well I always worry about you. All of you.” Violet moves closer to Francesca on the chaise. “You know it is completely normal if you still miss him dear, I miss your father constantly”
“No it’s not that. I mean of course I do miss him but not as much as I did,” Violet furrows her eyebrows. “Feeling like I failed him plagues me more.”
“Oh dear you did not fail John, even if you were not with child. You have been managing the estate well. Collecting rents, managing maintenance, keeping up with the grounds. I am very proud of how much you’ve done Francesca. You are far from a failure dear, in my eyes and in John’s.” Violet holds one of her hands.
“Thank you Mama.” Francesca avoids her mother’s eyes.
“How about trying the pianoforte again? You haven’t played since John and I do miss your playing,” She offered Francesca an encouraging smile.
“Maybe another day, I still really can’t handle it. Not yet.” Violet squeezes her hand in support. “Of course dear I understand.” Sad that what was once her daughter’s favorite pastime is now too much of a reminder of her late husband.
“Well I’m off to find Eloise. I believe she is avoiding me after reminding her she is to return to the marriage mart again this season.” Violet laughs and rises from the chaise. “I love you dear.”
“Love you too mama.” Francesca lets out a sigh of relief as her mother exits the room. She looks over to the pianoforte.
No. I can’t. I just can’t. I look at it and I feel upset. Upset that he’s not here. Upset that he left me here alone. At least he didn’t choose to. Michaela did. Michaela chose to leave me. And then never had the courtesy to write. As if I were nothing! Of course I know loosely of her whereabouts but why couldn’t she tell me herself?! Did I mean that little?
Michaela leaving London took a toll on Francesca more than she had anticipated. After a fortnight in Kilmartin House, the melancholy became too much and she left to stay back home at Bridgerton House. Violet had welcomed her with warm arms of course and it was nice to sleep in a house where she wasn’t entirely alone. As much as she hated it sometimes, she missed the chaos and the loudness.
And even though Violet would let her, she could not stay at home forever. She thought back to a conversation between them about Francesca returning to the marriage mart this season. She was out of mourning and with no heir chosen for the Kilmartin estate yet, her fate at Kilmartin House was not secure. However, the idea of having to talk to suitors and be called upon again did not help persuade Francesca. So she had decided for now she was content being a widow.
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The next day
Every so often Francesca would visit Kilmartin House to ensure the grounds were kept and the house was in order. She wouldn’t stay for long, the memories of John usually becoming too much to bear. Today she decided she’d take a visit over. She ate breakfast with the family and informed them she’d be going to check on Kilmartin
House.
As the carriage pulled up in front, Francesca noticed more servants than usual on the grounds for an unoccupied house but seeing no other carriage she did not think much of it. Upon walking in she heard quite the commotion. Servants and maids running all through the house seemingly getting ready for the arrival of someone. Francesca stopped one of the maids and asked if they knew she was arriving today.
“No Lady Kilmartin we were informed Ms. Stirling would be returning any day from her travels in India and to prepare the house for her arrival.”
“Ms. Stirling? Is coming back to London?” Francesca felt light.
“Yes ma’am. How exciting, right! And it turns out the Queen herself requested Ms. Stirling back to London” the maid sounded very ecstatic.
“Why would the Queen call for Ms Stirling?” Francesca was very lost.
“Oh did someone not inform you already? Ms Stirling is to be the new heir to Kilmartin." The maid left Francesca standing in the middle of the foyer with a look of shock across her face.
As the house worked to ready for the new Lady Kilmartin, Francesca moved to the drawing room. She sat in one of the chairs and let her mind race.
Michaela? Here? In London? After all this time? To inherit the Kilmartin estate. If she’s been gone this whole time without a single letter and now she’s returning and I find out from a maid.. It’s official. Kilmartin House is no longer my home. I do not expect her to let me have a place here. But what have I even done to her?! I thought she cared about me, I thought we were friends, I thought we- No. Doesn’t matter what I thought. Michaela will become Lady Kilmartin and I must find my own way. My mother was right. I must return to the marriage mart.