Work Text:
Well I guess I'll take the train and move far away
And just keep going 'til I forget all about your face
I'll make my heart forget about all the love
I'll tell myself another lie and pretend that you were never enough
But you were always enough, you were almost too much for me
She tried not to. She really did. She always knew love wasn't a variable in their equation. He was insufferable to her and she was a menace, standing in front of his goal. Then she got to know him, knows his smile, his laugh, when they were real and when they were not. She knew how much he cared about his family, his responsibilities, some of his fears. She knew Anthony Bridgerton, not the man society wanted him to be, not the empowering lord, or the Capital R Rake. But the caring husband, the hard worker, the broken son.
She entered the 1814 season with one truth and four lies, and she tried her hardest to not let Mary figure out her lie. Her truth; secure a happy and loving match for Edwina, based on friendship or love, where her sister and her mother would be financially stable enough. Her first lie; she would look for such a match for herself. She tried her hardest to pretend like she was actually to actively find a suitor, she wore what Mary told her too and she went to all the events. She danced with men who were obviously Edwina's suitors, but her mother was none the wiser. On occasion she wondered if Mary thought her heartbroken, when the same men who she danced with would come knocking on their door the next morning with gifts and flowers, only to ask for Edwina. She wasn't heartbroken, how could she be when she knew their intentions better than themselves. She knew their games well, she could have been Whistledown in another life. Her sister needed her, needed her to get the truth about these men , where they would have had the honour to hide their shortfalls from Mary. The creepy gentlemen who lurked, the bumbling idiots, the elderly, the rakes, the ones who weren't temperate, those didn't have possession of good manners, those who wouldn't have valued her sister for the jewel that she is, the ones who wanted an heir and didn't care what became of the woman they married. Her sister was under enough pressure, to provide for the family, that she wanted to take off her load by coming to her rescue. Edwina would be able to dance and enjoy the season, whilst Kate worked behind the scenes to stop those who would ruin it.
When she was lying, Kate would say that she never thought about love and herself in love, that she was content with being a spinster, that Newton was company enough. If she were honest, she would say how she longed for the dreams of her younger self. The one who loved herself and wanted someone else to love her. The girl who wasn't a hardened pessimist and wanted to be swept off her feet, wanted a grand romance. She felt like she deserved it just as much as any little girl. That girl grew up, that girl became an orphan. She was alone and she realised that loneliness would be the only thing she should look forward too. She'll tell everyone that she is content being a doting aunt to Edwina's future children.
That was her third lie, one buried so deep. Kate wanted to be a mother. Desperately. She wanted to have a family of her own. She wanted to run after her children in the country side, clean the scrapes on her son's knees and plait her daughter's hair. She wouldn't voice this, lest Mary misinterpret her and become crestfallen. She already feels like she oversteps in her home, she owes Mary a great deal. Had Mary been wicked, she would have thrown her out for not being her own blood. Had Mary not been blessed with a big heart, she would have thrown Kate out to save money. Less expenses on a season, dresses, lessons. Edwina could have had more, if Kate was out of the picture. It was a dark thought, one that always surfaced when thunder roared. That the world would be better, if Kate was out of the picture, and she was too much of a burden. Then Edwina would hug her and Mary would kiss her forehead and she would feel like she was floating. She felt like she belonged. The social season made that feeling rare. People were making it a competition between the sisters, when everyone knew there was no competition. She was content to be a wallflower, residing on the edge of the balls.
For her fourth lie, she would claim she hated dancing. She wasn't graceful, nor was she talented. But Kate loved to dance. To twirl around in pretty dresses and listen to the beautiful notes of the orchestra. When she was young, she would hum a tune and spin around the garden, a tulip pressed against her chest. When she's happy she would hold Newton in her arms and pretend he was a dashing gentleman and she would dance around her room. Dancing made her feel free but the ton would surely ruin it for her. If they found out she liked it, it would humiliate her. She planned it accordingly, slowly as the months passed and the journey to London neared, she started to stop dancing. Practicing only under the guise of helping Edwina, other than that, she pretended like she grew up and had no interest in it. So when the time came, and she only had to dance with her sister's suitors as no one else would ask her, she could act nonchalant. As if it meant nothing to her her.
Her walls were built over time, and she walked into the season prepared to do her duty. Nothing was going to break her.
Nothing except him.
Nothing until him.
I'll take days as they come and try not to stare
At the man who looks like you standing over there
I'll breathe in and breathe out, yell and scream and shout
That I am not strong enough, my skin's not as tough
As I know yours always was
She knew he was looking for a wife, that he was handsome, that he was a Rake. They hadn't been introduced yet but from the moment she knew of him, she warned her family. A man like this would surely be looking at the diamond, that would be his threshold, a perfect debutante just like his sister was. But he wasn't for Edwina.
Who knew that Colin introducing them at the Hartside ball would result in all that had happened? It seemed like from the moment she stepped on his foot, Lord Bridgerton made it his mission to be near her. She thought it was for her approval. He turned up with flowers at their doorstep, her first bouquet. She pressed a flower into one of her favourite volumes, a reminder of her first gifted flower. Then he walked Newton with her, he fished both him and Edwina out of the water. He provided her with ample entertainment, him yelling whilst covered in Serpentine water. At that moment she couldn't wait to recall the tail of the mad viscount to her future nephews and nieces. He danced with her, made her enjoy dancing. His brothers the only ones to not dance with her for some ulterior motive. But even if she knew he was dancing with her for Edwina, she could help but notice the effect he had on her. His warm hand on her waist, his breathe near her ear. She looked forward to their dances, so that she can poke fun of him, their arguments quickly becoming the reason she looked forward to balls. She never noticed, how little he spoke with Edwina, how little he danced with her, how the only time he mentioned her was a small quip about how he will 'win her affections'.
The trip to ascot was a daze to her. She knew she acted improperly; she bet on horses, she took off a glove, she whistled, she promptly lost said glove. He was standing so close to her. She could smell his cologne, the faint smell of alcohol and burned tobacco complementing it. A contrast to her floral scent. His hand clutched onto hers, and she can now admit that she never wanted him to let go. But he did and that night she laid awake thinking about him. The ghost of his hand never leaving hers.
Then he kissed her. Her first kiss, what she thought would be her only kiss. She had bitten him, so that he doesn't have his way with his mistress, only to send that opera singer away and compromise her. Kate knew she should have demanded him to marry her, had she a male relative, slapped a glove across his face. But she thought of Edwina, she thought of the whispers of the vipers in the ton. It would have made too much of a mess. She was insignificant, a soon to be spinster, and he was angry at her. She could ignore it and ignore him. Except that the kiss haunted her thoughts, the feel of his lips, his voice cajoling her to want more, his hands grabbing onto anything. Edwina and Mary had asked her that night, what was wrong with her since she was visibly shaken, but she claimed a headache and turned in for the night.
That should have been the end of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. Except it wasn't. She found herself at his beautiful country seat. She found herself in the constant company of a Bridgerton, each of them remarking on their eldest brother. Then he apologised. For a second after that apology, she thought he was going to kiss her again. But they were interrupted, and she scolded herself for even wanting that. They played Pall Mall, and it was at moment she saw the true Anthony. The older brother, who was competitive and fun to be around. Perhaps the countryside had this effect on him? The weight falling off his shoulders, as he played a game with his siblings. Her victory was bittersweet, she bested Anthony but he bested. Because she could no longer admit that she hated him and the nagging feeling in her chest was reminded her that he never called off his suit of Edwina, that he would actually be a good match for her sister. She watched him all night, she would have denied the argument that she always watched him. He saved Penelope from Cressida, he helped his anxious sister, and checked if the pregnant one was comfortable. That feeling in her chest growing and becoming difficult to ignore. But she was getting good at hiding her emotions, this would have to be another one.
In hindsight, the night in the library was what gave her heart completely to Anthony. There, as she shuddered and wept underneath a table, he comforted her. The only person to do so since she was a child. He distracted her, telling her a fraction of his own fears and making her not feel incompetent for once. She felt greedy in that moment, she wanted him for herself. But she couldn't do that. He didn't want her. If he was good enough that she yearned for him, then surely he would be perfect for Edwina? It was then she decided that she couldn't stand in his way anymore. But she let herself have that night so that when she slept, she could dream of him being hers.
He was not supposed to be hers, but then a bee sting and three mamas and a guest wing dictated that he was. Seconds after she handed him a pass to her sister, she trapped him instead. Edwina didn't seem to care, proclaiming that she thought their connection was obvious and that she had taken a fancy to a Mr. Bagwell. Those last days in Aubrey Hall were a whirlwind of emotions, and she quickly became dizzy from it. The life of a viscountess was not something she was prepared for. He remained there, when she returned to London to prepare for this quick marriage. And when he returned, he had unintentionally shown her his fears. Any normal person would have been heartbroken at his declaration of never loving their future spouse. But Kate wasn't a normal person, she was already prepared for this, prepared for being alone and being loveless. He hadn't wanted to marry her, he never chose her or this marriage. Though the way he looked at that moment made her realise. They were the same deep down. There was some differences, but they were both guarding their emotions and some thing happened to make him not want to love her. Maybe it was her, maybe it was the concept of marriage. Either way, he had a reason. How could she fault him?
But some day I will heal, I'll grow another heart
And I guess until then, I'll endure the falling apart
I'll learn to love the quiet and forget what was said
Now Kate lies on their bed, Anthony long gone for the day. They were back in London and they have new routines and duties. He had woken her up, and made her fall apart around him multiple times, muttering in her ear about how perfect she was and how he'll miss her all day. He made promises to be back in time to escort her to tonights ball, and told her to rest up for the night. His smile more blinding than the morning sun. She can admit it now. Her resolve completely snapped, she was irrevocably in love with Anthony. She held on for as long as she could, but she clearly wasn't strong enough. He was beautiful and perfect and loving. She was everything but. She did the one thing he asked her not to. He provided for her family, he gave her everything she desired, and she still disobeyed him. Her heart was clutched in his fist, the older holding his father's watch.
She can never tell him. She knew that it would ruin everything if she did. If he loved her, like she wanted to believe when he looked at Kate like she hung the moon in the sky, he would tell her on his own. If he never loves her, then she would have to live in a lie again, just like she always planned. Because, she would never do anything to jeopardise this blissful life she's living. She has a shot at something resembling happiness, and she wants to keep it forever.
Normally that's her plan. But days like today, she can't help but wonder why she goes through all this. Her heart yearning to burst of her chest, her stomach dropping. She packs and unpacks her trunk, a part of her convincing the other to run away and pretend Anthony or this marriage doesn't exist. Live alone by the sea. She writes letters and notes. Drafts of goodbyes, words declaring her love, asking him to look after her family, begging him to forgive and forget her. They all become ashes in the fireplace, she's aware the staff must find her actions suspicious but they never say a thing. She almost went through with her plan last week. She wrote and sealed a letter and packed her belongings, among them one of his shirts so that she had a memory of her old life. But then she would look at Newton, who grew fond of his new papa, of their bed, of everything and she would regret it completely. Then when he held her arm at a ball, she would realise that she was being foolish because she can never leave him. Today was beginning to feel like that day. His smell surrounding her, suffocating her. She wept for a while, no particular reason. Before her marriage, it had been a while since she last cried as she preferred to bottle her emotions.
As she turns to his side of the bed, she once again realises she has to stay. To stay with this broken man, who seemed to spread himself thin and sell himself short. She wondered if she was created to love this man, whether it was one-sided or not. She couldn't leave him, she had to be his viscountess, his friend, the person who will be on his side when he thinks the world against him. The affection and care she gets in return is more than enough. It has to be more than enough.
And maybe one day I'll return to the left side of my bed
Where lies the blood I bled, where I lost my head, to you