Chapter Text
Even a year after her wedding, the new Lady Bridgerton found that her gaze fell almost instinctively on her husband, no matter the time or place.
It was not her fault, Kate reasoned to herself after the umpteenth time she had been caught staring by her husband, his mother, her mother, her sister, or assorted Bridgerton relatives, and then teased mercilessly about it. Surely it was natural for a (not so) newlywed, especially when one was married to a man as handsome, kind, loving and warm as Anthony Bridgerton?
Kate sighed dreamily, her gaze once more drifting to her husband even as she danced a set with her brother-in-law, the Duke of Hastings. Despite the crowded rooms at Almack’s, Kate quickly found him, his tall, dark-haired figure easily distinguishable among the rest of his friends and-
Kate frowned.
A woman was speaking with Anthony now- a beautiful woman, Kate quickly registered, taking note of her fine features, auburn hair, and full figure that so exactly fit the fashions of the day. She looked closer to Edwina’s age than her own, and was presumably a debutante or a very young bride. Kate had no idea who she was, but saw how their heads were bent close to one another in a rather intimate manner- far more intimate than Kate was comfortable with.
She felt the stirrings of something green and familiar within her.
"Who is she?" Kate muttered to the duke, gesturing towards the woman, now conversing gaily with Anthony who, in turn, was speaking with equal pleasure.
Instead of offering any clarity, His Grace merely raised a brow towards his sister-in-law. "Have you been watching your husband again, Lady Bridgerton?"
"Merely a glance!" Kate protested, and then added pointedly. "Long enough to wonder who that woman is."
Simon was able to get a look while they executed their turns.
"I do not know her either," he told Kate.
They both watched as the woman said something that made Anthony tip his head back and roar with laughter.
Her husband suffered few fools, and even fewer debutantes. Indeed he was practically a master in outrunning them and their match-making mamas. What was special about this girl?"
"She is rather pretty," Simon commented as if he had read her mind. He smirked at her for good measure.
"Come now, Your Grace," Kate said, trying to sound worldly and bored even as her insides were practically churning. "If you mean to rile me, it will not work."
"Won't it?" the duke asked mildly. "It usually works wonders with Anthony."
"Really?" Kate asked despite herself.
"Oh yes. I point out that you are standing three paces from any gentleman, and he flies into a jealous frenzy and immediately comes to sweep you away."
"That's why he looked like a boiling kettle when I was conversing with Lord Melville the other night."
"A far more favorable comparison than mine, which was an overripe tomato- Kate?"
But Kate was no longer listening. She was gawking rather unfashionably as Anthony put his hand on the lady's lower back- her husband! Touching that woman- !
It took everything within her to not escape mid-set and shove past several other dancers to inquire exactly what this woman was doing with her husband.
Thankfully, the set quickly drew to a close, and Kate didn't even bother to thank the duke for the dance before marching towards her errant husband.
"Anthony!” she said loudly once she was close enough. Perhaps it was not very good ton to exclaim her husband’s Christian name in as public a setting as Almack’s, but she had to get his attention somehow.
Anthony turned towards her, bemused. The lady, who he was still touching , did the same.
Kate merely looked pointedly at her, and then disgruntledly at him.
Anthony’s gaze flicked between her and the woman before understanding seemed to dawn on him. Kate allowed herself to smugly await an apology, and then hopefully some groveling for good measure.
To her immense irritation, none of those things happened. Instead, Anthony grinned at her, unrepentant.
“Kate,” he said to her, wholly unaffected by her seething, “may I introduce you to Miss Eliza Rokesby, my cousin?”
Oh.
His cousin .
Kate exhaled sharply.
"From Scotland," she dimly heard herself state. “The doctor’s daughter.” She had been told that Anthony’s aunt’s family lived in Edinburgh, and that they could not come down for the wedding such short notice. An Elizabeth Rokesby had penned her a pretty note that had been sent along with beautiful silver candlesticks.
Miss Rokesby dimpled and curtsied. “Yes,” she said. “It is so very nice to meet you at last, Lady Bridgerton.”
“Eliza here has come to London for her first season,” Anthony explained, so obviously enjoying the dumbfound expression Kate was struggling to wipe from her features.
“It’s been great fun, for the most part,” Eliza added, blithely oblivious. Her pretty features then fell into a frown. “Although the season is proving a bit trickier than I thought it would be.”
Kate finally found the ability to speak. “Why so?”
“Some gentlemen have been rather… persistent,” Eliza attempted delicately.
Anthony offered a more blunt explanation: “Mr. Westcott is practically hounding her- the man won’t leave her alone.” Kate winced.
Eliza nodded fervently. “I was desperate, but luckily, I came across cousin Anthony, and he offered to- erm- play along.”
“And so you pretended to be interested in her,” Kate finished with a small groan.
“You see, my dear,” Anthony said, smirking, "I was merely doing my level best to protect a member of my family from a rogue."
To this, Kate could not help but reply waspishly, "Then you should have enlisted me in your cause far earlier." She threw her husband a dirty look. "I'm sure you can attest to my great success in that particular area."