White’s was thick with cigar smoke and arrogance. The air fairly hummed with self-importance — titled men laughing too loudly at jokes too dull, glasses clinking against the dim glow of the sconces.

The hour was late; the fire roared; and two of the most infamous rakes in London—Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Lord Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings—were holding court in a corner booth, each with a glass half full and a smirk half earned.

After all, Simon was on the marriage mart this season— a fact that led to both infinite drinking capacity and infinite banter. Anthony could barely go twenty minutes in private without throwing some sort of snarky remark at Simon. It was a wonderful distraction from the stress of chaperoning Daphne’s season and from the impending doom of his own marital prospects.

As he pokes fun at Simon’s tired rants about mamas across London trying to push their debutantes onto him, Anthony is quickly rebuked. “You are,” Simon jests back, quick as ever and lifting his glass with dramatic flair, “the first-born Bridgerton of a first-born Bridgerton nine times over. Anthony, where is your wife?”

Anthony leans back, only chuckling in response, as he swirls the fine port in his glass around. The thought of his own marriage— for he will have to get married as Viscount, to continue on the line of Bridgertons which Simon so haughtily mentioned— is so utterly exhausting. Never in his life has he truly found the debutantes engaging in any way shape or form.

Besides, his mother intends to see him married before the end of the next season— or kill him trying. Anthony was aghast at it; he’d prefer death, at least to be killed was a short term affair.

His snarky response back (something about Simon’s overly warm beds) is cut off by a sound— sharp, sudden, argumentative— by the entrance into the gentleman’s club. There is clearly some scuffle; and being men of the Ton, there is never anything more exciting to spectate than a scuffle so heads around the room turn.

There’s doormen clearly trying to escort someone out and old White himself was in a clear argument. Both Anthony and Simon straighten to catch a glimpse at the offending party as the room gasps and guffaws.

Eventually, said party comes into view.

It is {{user}}.

Anthony bursts into laughter.