Born a Bridgerton, lost to time, and raised in a future that taught her freedom. Now, Y/N returns to a family that never stopped loving her—but can she belong to a world she was never meant to know? And what of the infuriating Duke of Norfolk determined to steal her heart?
Published
The drawing room of Bridgerton House was, as ever, an elegant riot of Bridgertons.
Edmund stood by the fireplace, listening with an amused smile as Gregory and Hyacinth bickered over the last lemon biscuit. Anthony and Kate were bent over a newspaper, their heads close together. Benedict was sketching Sophie in the corner, though she kept trying to smack the pencil out of his hand. Colin was whispering something to Penelope that made her blush and laugh. Eloise was reading, pointedly ignoring Philip's attempts to tell her something. Francesca sat with Michael, speaking quietly. Daphne and Simon were watching their children play by the window.
It was a perfectly ordinary evening. The fire crackled, the tea steamed, and no one noticed the light in the center of the room until it was already too bright to ignore.
A figure materialized out of nothing. Tall, indistinct, cloaked in something that didn't quite look like cloth. It hovered a full foot off the carpet. The air around it hummed.
Edmund.
placing himself in front of her Stay back.
Who the devil are you?
I am the keeper of what was lost.
Its voice echoed, not from the figure exactly, but from everywhere at once.
Before anyone could respond, the light in the center of the room shifted. Twisted. It became a window, not of glass but of sheer, shimmering air, and through it they could see a world they did not recognize.
It showed a narrow room, brightly lit from above, with strange smooth walls and unfamiliar objects. A figure sat alone, seemingly unaware of being watched.
Watch.
The family could see a young woman in the strange world. She wore peculiar clothing — trousers of rough blue fabric, a thin white shirt, loose and unbefitting a lady. Her hair was long and dark, her features hauntingly familiar.
gripping Simon's arm That's... That cannot be.
trembling Edmund, she looks like...
quietly Like Daphne.
The young woman in the vision rose, moved about the room in a manner they had never seen, her movements purposeful and unselfconscious. She reached for a strange, glowing object and seemed to be in the middle of some ordinary task when her knees buckled.
She collapsed, crumpling to the ground as if every drop of strength had vanished from her body.
NO!
Violet pushed forward, but the room had already begun to change. The vision dissolved into a whirl of light, and then the light settled over the largest sofa.
The stranger lay there, deeply asleep, still wearing the strange foreign garments. The strange glow faded. The room was deathly still.
She has returned.
in a whisper Is she dead?
She sleeps.
staring Returned from where, exactly?
From the future.
Silence.
I'm sorry. The future?
The child you lost was not dead. She was taken through time, to the year 2000. In Mexico, she grew to womanhood without the knowledge of her family. It was necessary to alter the course of fate, so Edmund Bridgerton might live.
Edmund's hand tightened on the back of the nearest chair. Violet's knees seemed to give way; she sank onto the edge of the settee, her eyes fixed on the sleeping woman.
You expect us to believe this nonsense?
turning its glowing gaze upon him I expect you to look at her.
The family did. They could not help it. The resemblance was undeniable. The same dark hair, the same jaw, the same shape of the brow. It was like seeing Daphne asleep under a spell.
approaching slowly, her voice breaking She's my twin.
She is.
catching Daphne by the hand Careful.
You may touch her. She will not wake until she has rested.
The being's form flickered, as if holding itself together required enormous effort.
You have questions. Speak them now, while I remain.
Is she going to stay?
That choice will belong to her.
quietly What do you mean?
She was raised in a world very different from yours. She knows nothing of you, and little of this time. You must not expect her to be the daughter you imagined. She is not the girl in your portraits. She is a woman of the twenty-first century.
Are you telling us she may leave? Again?
Yes. If she cannot find a life here. If she cannot come to love you. If she cannot grow to call this home, she may return to her own time. That is the price of her return.
The weight of those words seemed to press down on every person in the room.
Is this... is she truly ours? The child we lost?
She is your daughter. Your sister. The blood in her veins is Bridgerton blood. The life in her body has come from your love of one another.
Violet let out a shaking sob and covered her mouth with both hands.
turning to stare at the sleeping woman She's really here.
In trousers.
A few of them let out the faintest, most disbelieving of laughs.
She will need patience. She will not understand this world, and many things she does will seem strange to you. Do not judge her harshly for being what her time has made her.
The decision to remain must be hers alone. If you try to force her love, you will lose her before you have the chance to earn it.
This is the only warning I will give.
The being's light began to dim, as though the effort of speaking was more than it could bear.
Wait—the future. Does she know what happens? To us? To London? To—
She is not a prophet. She is a person.
This is absolutely mad.
softly He's right. But look at her.
The room fell silent again. Everyone looked.
She slept on, in her strange clothes, her hands resting across her stomach, her face peaceful. Completely unaware that twenty-six years of grief had just ended in a single moment.
I will return when she wakes.
And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the being was gone.
For a long moment, no one moved.
standing, her voice barely above a whisper Edmund. Bring me a blanket.
already crossing the room Yes. Yes, of course.
The fire crackled. The tea grew cold. And the family gathered in a careful, disbelieving circle around the sofa, watching the daughter they had lost breathe slowly in and out.