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Tale as old as time,
True as it can be,
Barely even friends,
Then somebody bends,
Unexpectedly.
Just a little change,
Small, to say the least,
Both a little scared,
Neither one prepared,
Beauty and the Beast.
“I’m no thief, you monster! Let me out!”
A rose. She was locked in a cell by this … thing because of a rose. She had forgotten to bring back flowers for her sister and decided to find some on the journey back but no, apparently that was theft. She was cold, her riding cloaks not warm enough. Her hair was a mess, her gown wet and ripped from falling down her horse. Poor Athena, where was she? Samuel is long back by now and Kate just wanted to go home with him.
When she was met with silence, Kate decided to antagonise her kidnapper more. “Surely the local magistrate would not stand for this! My family would come looking for me! It would not do to upset the Earl of Somerset’s sister.” A bluff, she doubted Mary’s brother would care but this uncivilised thing wouldn’t know.
The only reply she heard was a slamming of the door down the corridor and all Kate could do was scream in frustration to the void. Hoping God, or the angels would hear her.
The response was no angel.
“Calm down Miss.”
“Who said that, show your face.” Holding the candlelight, the surrounding area glowed gold... and there wasn’t anything in sight.
“Down here.”
“AHHH!” She screamed louder than she ever had before because there was a walking talking candelabra.
“No need to fret, Miss.”
“I must be going mad. I’ll be sent to bedlam. Please make it stop.” A man who resembled a minotaur and inanimate objects given life, this has to be a dream. But when she pinched herself and opened her eyes to the same place, her vision darkened.
“Miss Sharma, you should tame your wild beast!” A slimy voice spoke up over Newton’s energetic barks.
“Perhaps, Berbrooke, Newton doesn’t like you for a reason.” The odious man’s face scrunched up, his crooked teeth showing, sneering at her.
“The day you come to realise that my attentions towards your sister are your family’s best bet is the day you finally become intelligent.”
“Well let’s hope I'm condemned to a life of a simpleton then.”
“Are you going to visit Lady Mary’s sister again?”
Her temper was getting short with this man, it was suspicious for Mr. Berbrooke to be so invested in her plans. This 40 year-olds desire to marry Edwina, who had just turned 18, has been a source of contention in the surrounding area. They were to have a season next year, they were not in such dire straits that they couldn’t wait one more year. But Nigel Berbrooke doesn’t seem to take no for an answer.
“Yes, as I do every month.”
“For how long?”
“Pardon?”
“Lord you are an idiot. I asked, for how long girl?”
“Two days. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve left.”
“Two days is a long period, who knows what could happen?”
The audacity, Kate could only scoff in return, “Nothing or I shall endeavour to ruin your life.”
“Good day Miss Sharma.”
Interactions with this man occurred almost weekly, taunting the threat of marrying Edwina and how Kate will ‘rue the day she crossed him.’ Kate just had to remain confident and hopeful, a London season will be good to them all. It had to be, Edwina deserved better.
Visiting Lady Eaton was mildly entertaining at best and tiring at worst. Why Mary’s sister had taken a liking to her she will never know, but she will reap the benefits. New dresses for her and Eddie, a chance to learn more about the ton before their debut, a chance for Mary to have a connection with her family. None of them had gotten over her first marriage and the scandal it caused, but Lady Eaton had taken pity on the girls and ultimately decided it was her duty to ensure they don’t ‘taint the family name again’.
Kent wasn’t Somerset, they moved here a year before her father’s death because he wanted a fresh start, but it was home now. The villagers were sweet and welcoming and Kate had made her mark within the community. The tenants at Aubrey Hall were always bringing gifts whenever they came by the town, though Kate always wondered about the disappearance of their Lord Bridgerton. Sally, the baker’s girl, thinks that he’s an agent for the Crown whereas Mr. Whitborne thinks he’s dead and the family doesn’t wish to let it be known. All of Kent had their theories and stories that they claim are true, but all she could think about was what sort of nobleman runs from their family like that.
She and Samuel, the stableboy, readied for their journey into town. As usual, Mary stops them at the door, Newton jumping at her feet, begging for Kate to take a carriage or rent a coach for once and like always Kate would disagree citing that she wants to ride and that Sam can keep her safe. The disapproving look she got always sends her into a fit of laughter. Edwina asks for flowers, each time and when she replies that men are lining up the cobbled street to give Edwina bouquets of Kent’s finest floral arrangements, her sister always responds;
“Why would I want their flowers, when I could have ones from my beautiful sister?”
Always the same. And she wouldn’t change it for the world. She didn’t want to think about how soon, it would be different. When Edwina was somewhere far, with her own prince charming. Why would she think about the future, when the present is so perfectly fine?
When Kate finally woke up all she could do was sink into the warmth of her bed, memories of that horrible dream long forgotten. Except, the bed was too big, the sheets too soft and when her eyes opened she was met with a room she’s never seen before.
“You are awake, finally. You gave us quite a scare, love.” A teapot was speaking to her. The candlestick beside it.
Squeezing her eyes shut, “No, this is a dream. I’m hallucinating. When I open my eyes, I’ll be back home.”
“You’re not hallucinating.” A different voice sounded another woman, her speech slightly slurred like it was an effort to speak. Cracking one eye open, she sees a middle-aged woman sitting in the far right corner of the room.
“This house has been cursed, they were all people.”
“Magic isn’t real.”
“The sooner you accept it, the more likely you’ll keep your sanity.” She places a pink dress on the bed next to Kate, “Get ready and dressed. Dinner will be sent up soon, Miss.” With that, she leaves her in the room with a talking teapot.
“Hello.”
A squeak sounded from Kate.
“Don’t be scared, we won’t hurt you.”
Mrs. Harding seemed sweet, and all Kate could do was feel sorry for the elderly woman trapped in a teapot. But who she pitted the most was little charlie, a teacup, He was only 6 years old and now the poor boy was missing out on his childhood due to a curse. She didn’t get the logistics of the enchantment or if it was real. But she was tired and hungry, surely embracing the madness for a short while wouldn’t hurt. The staff in the room introduced themselves and alerted her of the few others in the estate. The estate. Aubrey Hall. Lord Bridgerton was a monster, who has ruined the lives of his staff and they were too loyal to see it. If only she could help, but this wasn’t her fight to deal with.
The linen fell in a pile underneath the window. She hadn’t thought her plan through, and it was evident by the fact she was limping through the woods. Kate had hoped that Athena would have been waiting for her or that there was a search party nearby. But there was nothing but her and the trees. A twig snapped not too far behind her, holding in her breath she could hear the heavy breathing and the faint growl. She froze. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she felt her life flash before her. It was getting closer and closer and Kate was stuck there. If she moved it would still chase her and even without her twisted ankle, who could outrun a wolf?
Then she felt her muscles move, if she was to die then she will at least die trying. Running with all her might, she still felt the wolf chasing her, gaining speed.
Just when she felt the warmth of its mouth, a large mass came between them and pushed her out of the way. She landed painfully on her wrist and bad leg but when she turned, she was met with the sight of ‘The Beast’ Bridgerton holding the wolf and scaring it away.
“You couldn’t stay put for a night?”
“No my lord, not as a prisoner for a stupid crime like stealing roses.” The creature in front of her stiffened at her honorific like he hates that she knew what he was.
“I gave you a room for the night, I was going to provide you with a safe route home in the morn.”
“I would have appreciated you letting me know. I believed I was to be thrown in your cell again.”
He had saved her life and carried her back, her leg too painful to stand on, and she knew she ought to be a little more thankful. But frankly, the situation is his fault in the first place. It was only then that she realised that his arm was bleeding.
“I’ll have Mrs. Doyle send for a doctor for your leg, Miss… What did you say your name was again?”
Limping closer to him, “I didn’t. You’re bleeding.” Pulling the large arm towards her, she sees slashes and cuts from the wolf and its bites, “You should clean that up before it gets infected.”
Mrs. Doyle, the woman from when she woke up who turned out to be the interim housekeeper, walked into the front room with some warm soup.
“Can we have some medical supplies, it seems Lord Bridgerton is injured.” She left as quickly and quietly as she came.
“You know my name, you know of my condition and yet I know nothing of you.”
“Condition? Or curse.”
“I see Charles has told you the tale. Answer my question.”
Staring directly into his eyes, she introduces herself, “I’m Kate. Kate Sharma.”
Mrs. Doyle returns with the supplies and Kate focuses on cleaning and bandaging the arm before her. Looking into his eyes was almost hypnotic-like like you can’t stare for too long before you fall. Fall where? She didn’t know
“I would say pleased to meet you, but I doubt the sentiment would be returned.”
“Do you make a habit of this? Imprisoning young women and then saving their lives.”
He scoffed at her suggestion, “I assure you I do not. You, however, trespassed on my land and attempted petty theft.”
“Your gardens were unkempt, how was I to know the difference between your land and the wood surrounding it.” After finishing the wrap, she tugged harshly on the ends ensuring a painful reaction before taking her soup and heading upstairs.
“Why do you have so many gowns for me to wear?” She had been wondering this since the first one was given to her, and the curiosity got to the better of her. A week later, she still thinks that perhaps Lord Bridgerton planned her capture.
The doctor visited and declared that she shouldn’t exert too much pressure on her twisted ankle, else it becomes swollen and they would have to amputate and that it would be too risky for her to go home for at least a month. Today would be the first day she leaves her bed since last week, and Kate was restless. She wasn’t one to lay and bed and the fatigue was getting to her. A letter was delivered to Mary at Sheffield house, telling her of her injury and that she would come as soon as possible. Honestly, Kate was surprised her stepmother hasn’t stormed through the house yet.
She missed them, this is the longest it’s been without her family. Recovery would be easier if she could cuddle with Newton in this luxurious bed. Evidently, the Bridgerton’s were wealthy despite the head of house running around looking like a bear. She hasn’t seen much of the beast, he was locked away in his study rarely venturing out to eat. If she was honest, she was beginning to worry for him. The staff told her of the day it happened, how his father died not long before, how he was for those few years he was a viscount. It made her feel a little guilty of how she calls him Beast when in reality he was a twenty-six-year-old who had his life robbed. However, no one knew the reasons for the enchantment and Kate needed to know. For her own sanity.
“They are his sister’s”
“He has sisters? I thought it was only the brother that keeps sending him letters.”
“There are eight Bridgerton’s miss.”
She was getting dressed with the help of Jane, the wardrobe. She used to be the maid, and Kate had a sneaky suspicion that she fancied David Orwell, the candelabra who has apologised for frightening her that first day.
“Eight! Good Lord. Where are they?”
“At Bridgerton house, in London.” She spits out a flower clip towards her, matching the blue of the dress. “You’re very pretty Miss Sharma.”
Kate wasn’t used to compliments. She was always too tall, too proud, her hair too curly. Not quite enough for anyone to ever look at her and see pretty. Especially next to her sister, not that she was jealous or that she hated her Edwina for it.
Warmth begins to rush to her cheeks, “ Thank you, Jane.”
Today, Kate wanted to explore. Despite her generosity, it was far too impolite to explore Lady Eaton’s house. However, with Beast Bridgerton out of the way, it would be a chance to see how the top of the nobility lived.
The halls were all lined with portraits dating back centuries with each generation of Bridgerton making their mark. Her eyes landed on a sibling portrait, it was older and she figured this must be the previous generation since there were only four children.
‘Sybilla, Georgiana, Edmund and Hugo Bridgerton.’
They looked happy and close. The Bridgertons seemed to be a loving family, comfortable with each other. It made her miss Mary and Edwina even more.
Edmund. Is that the previous Lord Bridgerton when he was young? Is that what Beast looked like before?
She continued exploring the rooms until,
“Lord there are eight of them. Are they Alphabetically named?”
In front of her were four portraits side by side, their fashions were up to date so it had to be them. First, it was ‘Lord Edmund & Lady Violet Bridgerton’ and she couldn’t help but note how in love they looked to be. Just like Miles and Mary Sharma. The urge to find this woman and comfort her, maybe introduce her to Mary. The society of women who lost the men they loved. She’ll work on the name eventually and the excuse for the introduction. Edmund looks the same as when he was younger, slightly more mature and yet just as cheeky. He reminds her so much of her father, this tender love radiating from them. Like it was so easy to love freely and to be happy with life, not just content.
The next three portraits are the three eldest brothers, then the sisters and then two toddlers.
‘Anthony’ His name. A the eldest. He didn’t look the most like his father. The one beside him had a closer resemblance but Anthony , his eyes were like Edmund’s. Warm, loving but there was a slight difference. Anthony had no hope and all pain. The other’s didn’t have that glint of suffering, and once again she was entranced by him. Walking forward until she could see the lines of the canvas, she could see all the details of his face. The crease of the brow, a slight smirk lifted his right cheek, the way his hair fell in soft waves. He wasn’t just handsome, not like other men. No, the artist in her dared to call him beautiful. He was crafted by Michelangelo and painted by Da Vinci. Had he been alive four centuries ago, the artists would have worshipped him and his beauty. Not meant to exist beyond a canvas. But he did, he walked these halls and was warm and solid.
“What are you doing?” He was behind her, a reminder that the painted man no longer existed. Except. Those eyes again. The man still lived somewhere.
“I was admiring the painting techniques. I am somewhat of a novice painter, not oils since I find them too fiddly. I also don’t have the patience to wait for them to dry. But I appreciate a true artist’s hand. I primarily use watercolours, it allows for this movement and flow - What?” She was rambling, trying to make it obvious her face wasn’t pressed up against his portrait, admiring his past self and that she knew what she was talking about. His eyes widened as she spoke, she needs to stop focusing on his eyes. It was becoming very embarrassing.
“Are you allowed to be up and about?”
“I was forced to observe only a week in bedrest, now I am free to be a vastly irritating guest until I am fully healed and I can go home.”
“Right, well good.” They stand in silence and she notices that he’s focused on the portraits behind her.
“Your parent’s look as though they were each other’s greatest love.”
“They were.”
“It’s breathtaking to see it all captured.”
“More so in person.”
Another pause.
“So. Eight siblings. Alphabetical order.”
“Yeah.”
“You must miss them?”
He doesn’t respond.
Pointing at the youngest girl, “how old is she?”
“She’s almost nine.”
“Grown already. It’s the same with my Edwina. I feel like yesterday she was a little thing running around with me. But she’s a woman now. Do they visit?”
“Only Ben.”
“Why?”
“Would you let a four-year-old sister see you become an incompetent and frightening monster rather than her brother?” When Kate didn’t respond, “Exactly.”
“How old were you, when you became Viscount?”
“I was turning eighteen.”
So young. His youth was robbed from him twice. He was close to her age and yet he kept it together. Would she have been able to manage a title and a life-altering transformation? The guilt of the staff would crush her.
He was walking out the door on the other side of the corridor.
“Beastie! Wait! Where are you going?”
“You have a corgi?”
“Yes, I do. His name is Newton and he is the love of my life. He’s rather chubby but loves to go on walks.”
“I want a corgi!”
“How about this… When I go home, I can come back to visit and you can meet him then.”
“But I’m so small, wouldn’t it be dangerous?”
“He the softest and sweetest thing. He wouldn’t harm you, I’ll make sure of it.”
Charlie had dug himself a neat hole in her heart and lived there. She has fallen completely for this young boy and all she wanted to do was to save him and beg this enchantress to release them all. Even him.
It has been another week at Aubrey Hall and Kate has developed a routine, already so settled into a temporary place. She and Lord Bridgerton, Anthony the name runs through her mind, eat their meals together. She teases him when he gets something gets on his fur and laughs when he tells stupid anecdotes from his youth. Most recently she started helping him with viscounting duties, Mrs. Doyle couldn’t be more relieved with the respite from “Boring tasks of upper-classmen.” Her knowledge of some of the local land and tenants proved efficient in the letters to his brother and solicitor.
There wasn’t a flute in the estate, however, Jeffries, Charlie’s dad and the gardener, was the pianoforte. Mary and Lady Eaton would be very proud of her for practising “admirable gifts that would attract a suitor.” She had improved if Lord Bridgerton was anything to go by. She did however notice Mr. Woolbright, the clock, and Orwell run out of the room when she sits down to practice.
Her better accomplishments lie with painting and if Kate could have fallen in love with anything inanimate, it was these paints. Benedict Bridgerton had a flair for the arts and she was allowed to use his absence as an excuse to paint with his supplies. The drawing-room was littered with her canvases and sketches. Of the house, the flowers, the staff, him. She wanted keepsakes of her time at this magnificent place. Memories of how something so tragic became something she treasured immensely. Of the eyes she never wants to forget.
Her leg healing was bittersweet. It means she can go home, safely and healthily. But over the past couple of weeks, she was getting so comfortable here. It was becoming another home to her and she had adjusted to it. Waking up to this beautiful place and having the chance to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Though she missed her mother and sister so much, still having not heard from them despite a second letter updating them of her health being sent, she knew that when she was back at Sheffield house… Kate Sharma would miss him .
It was her last few days at Aubrey Hall. The doctor came by and cleared her. It was all coming to an end and she didn’t want it to. She knew everyone here didn’t either. Well, she didn’t know about Lord Bridgerton because he’s been avoiding her a lot recently but she had hope. They’ve all been quite secretive around her, whispering, and going to check on ‘something in his lordship’s chamber’.
It was the middle of the night, she couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts, too many questions, no answers. None.
She felt like the answer might be in Beast Bridgerton’s chambers, not that she thinks of him like that anymore. The nickname has just stuck. Because Anthony was good and caring and supportive and it made her wonder. Why was he cursed? What did he do that made him deserving of such a fate? Could they reverse it? Could she help?
With her mind running it was best for Kate to get a book from that library. She had never seen so many books about so many things. Maybe Bridgerton would let her bring Edwina with her once. The philosophy books would put the biggest smile on her sister’s face, maybe give her something to remember her by.
Just as she reached for Romeo and Juliet on the shelf, she felt it in her very being before any sound. A storm. When the lightning flashed through the window and the sound thundered through the library, Kate only remembers the sound of the book falling and a loud piercing scream coming out of her.
When she was conscious again, she wasn’t alone. The soft fur of his arms engulfed her as she leaned her head against his chest. “It’s alright Kate. Deep breaths.” Doing as was told, she breathed, shaking like something was strangling her. “How.. how long have I?”
“About five minutes.”
“Oh… It felt like a lifetime.”
“I understand. Storms gone now, just keep breathing darling.” Darling. Darling. Darling. It kept echoing in her head. He called her darling. What is that supposed to mean?
“Have you always been scared of storms?”
“Ever since I could remember, I don’t know why. But it was always like this.” She was finding the confidence to talk, his comfort bringing her back to life, “I.. haven’t told anyone ever.”
“Not even your sister?”
“I am supposed to be strong for her.”
“I understand.”
Kate turns to look at his face, day by day she sees more of the man and less of the beast, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “Do you?”
“I have more than enough fears.”
“Well, my lord-”
“Anthony.”
“What?”
“Call me Anthony, I’ve already called you Kate. I think propriety and titles have no place here.
“Very well, Anthony. What do you fear?”
“Have you seen me? I fear my own reflection.” Surely it was meant to be a jest but it didn’t look like it.
“Can you tell me? What happened?”
“I’ll show you.” He takes her hand and they leave the library and go to his chambers. Propriety be damned. And there in the centre of his room was a wilting rose with only 2 petals left.
5 years ago:
Anthony Bridgerton was stressed. Viscount Bridgerton was miserable. Mr. Anthony Bridgerton has not existed for 4 years. He was barely 18 when his father left and since then, every day was a struggle. His birthright was crushing him, granting him only reprieve during those few moments of adolescent chaos at Oxford. But now university was over and he couldn’t escape his duties anymore. So whilst Simon and all his other friends were galavanting around Europe, Anthony had to play pretend. Because if you had asked him, what it felt like taking over his father? His honest reply would have been that he feels like a child playing dress-up. Nothing seems to fit right.
Aubrey Hall was his home, there’s no denying it. The countryside opened up his lungs and when it was just him there, he felt like the world had stopped. Just for a moment, he could breathe again. No burden of family, just him and a couple members of his staff and little Charlie visiting his father, the groundskeeper.
It was early morning when it happened. He felt the need to go to his father’s grave, it’s not often that he does. All his emotions were piling on top of him and just needed a place to yell and curse at the world. Benedict had just finished his years at university and whilst he hoped his brother would stay and help him, he knows he can’t deny him a tour. Just because he’s miserable, doesn’t mean his brother has to be too. His mother was constantly telling him to get married, probably to relieve some of her stress but also because she thinks love solves everything. How can love be the answer for a dying man? There wasn’t a way for Anthony to live past Edmund, it was impossible. The sky is blue, the grass is green and Anthony would never be half the man his father was.
These were facts of life. His life.
But then it changed. There was a hunched figure in the distance and it was moving towards him. Yelling about how he needs to learn about why his life was worth living and how he’ll wish he had love. It was all rather confusing until the entire estate was surrounded by gold dust. His arms and legs began to grow and look more like paws covered in hair, his back stretched painfully wider and his clothing ripped. He heard the screams of his household. They were all cursed for him.
A rose was given to him by this woman. And once again Anthony was ruled by a ticking clock.
She couldn’t remember how she ended up back in her room, she couldn’t remember anything but the sound of her heart breaking for him and everyone and what happened. It wasn’t fair, It wasn’t right. He had been through too much.
Her easel was set up by the front entrance, wanting to paint, to do something with her hands. Tomorrow was her last day and Kate Sharma hated every clock in the house reminding her. Mr. Woolbright was privy to her wrath when she yelled at him to get out of her sight if he couldn’t shut the clock noises up. She apologised immediately of course. But everything was making her emotional today.
A carriage pulled up in front of her and a young man stepped down. Benedict Bridgerton.
“Oh… May I ask who you are?”
“Miss Sharma Miss Kate Sharma.” His eyes twinkled with recognition, had the solicitor mentioned her?
“I’m your brother’s house guest. Until tomorrow that is.” She continued, ignoring the stabbing sensation in her chest.
“Of course. I was wondering why Mrs. Doyle’s handwriting had changed. Your fault I presume.”
“Guilty as charged.”
He notices the paint and artwork and begins bracing herself for being chastised for using his supplies.
“You paint? This is quite beautiful. You are talented.”
“Thank you,” once again not used to compliments, “it’s for your brother. For being such an accommodating host.”
“Accommodating host? I rather think you were an accommodating guest.”
“We got off to the wrong start, but I owe him my life. Everything else is inconsequential.”
Some understanding passed between them like he knew Kate wouldn’t tell a soul of Anthony’s condition, that she doesn’t judge him for what happened. And Benedict seemed to approve of her as if she passed an examination.
“I must speak to my brother and quickly get back to my mother.” He takes her hand and places a gentle kiss, “Good day, Miss Sharma.”
She imagined that it was Anthony instead who had kissed her hand, she could feel her cheeks burn.
She should stop.
Anthony doesn’t believe in life or love.
“A party?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“A party for me, with Anth-Lord Bridgerton?”
“Yes.”
“Would you care to explain to me why Jane?”
“It’s for a farewell. A goodbye memory. There will be music and you can dance with his lordship.”
Dance… dance with Anthony
Perhaps she can tell him, tell him how she feels about him and his eyes.
And then nothing will happen, and she will be banned from Aubrey Hall.
“Well, let's get me dressed.”
Her gown was a pale yellow, her curly hair fell loose down her back with only a few pieces being held back with matching clips.
She felt beautiful for once. Is this how she would look in London? Would she finally be enough?
In the mirror, she looked like someone else. Almost like her birth mother, like the small portrait back home. For once, she felt as beautiful as Charlotte or Mary or Edwina.
“You look ridiculous.” His shirt and jacket were a little too small, too short. Not that she would diminish him, not that he can look anything less than perfect. Not with those eyes, staring at her.
“You look stunning.”
“... Thank you.”
“Can I have this dance?”
She just nods. The premise of it was all silly, but not inconsequential. She was in this grand ballroom dancing with this man who looked more like a bear and it wasn’t anything less than perfect. She stepped on his toes, he claimed she was terrible at waltzing and she refuted claiming that it was due to his overgrown feet.
And they were laughing. His melodic laugh complimented hers. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Because the longer she was in his arms, the more she wanted to try. Try to tell him how she feels and hope that she was the one for him, the one that could save them all, rather than the one who embarrassed herself. The reminder that 2 petals were barely hanging for life, and only she and Anthony knew it.
But when she went to open Pandora’s box, Mrs. Doyle stormed in with an urgent express for her and a carriage outside.
My dearest girl,
Someone tampered with our mail and we thought you had been missing or dead for the past month. The news that you are safe and sound would have been met with incredible joy, except…
I don’t know what he had done, but Berbrooke has tarnished our name and then procured a special licence to wed Edwina tomorrow.
I don’t know what to do, but I need you here as soon as possible.
Your Mary.
Her ears were ringing, her hand gripping tight to the letter.
“Kate? What’s wrong?” His worried voice made her ache but she couldn’t do anything but hand him the letter.
“Surely he can’t! Mrs. Doyle and Kate follow me.”
“Anthony what are we doing, I have to go.”
“You can’t let him marry her. Especially if what you told me it’s true.” He knew everything about Nigel Berbrooke. What had seemed like thinly veiled threats had now become a brutal reality.
Before she knew it Kate was in a carriage with the Bridgerton seal, an arrest warrant for trumped up charges and letters from Anthony’s title as the magistrate. Turns out it was him all along, the magistrate the town never knew. Anthony truly was a good man. He also sent an express to the Archbishop and one to London to null the licence and any rumours.
When she arrived back home, she was immediately engulfed in hugs from her family. Newton missed her the most. Too many questions flooded at her but before she could answer, she had to meet with Berbrooke in the drawing-room.
“AH! I see you are alive.”
“You are foul and a complete idiot if you thought I would let you go away with this.”
“I already have.”
“I have in my hand a warrant for your arrest for missing funds and taxes, a copy of a letter sent to the Archbishop and Lord Bridgerton’s word destroying any claim you have to marrying my sister.”
“All fake I assure you. Lord Bridgerton has been dead for years. You are wasting your breath. How dare you even think you can trick me like this? I will have you locked up for this. You should have stayed in your gutter.”
Her temper is cut short and she all but slams the documents with the Bridgerton and local government seals on them.
He spent 10 minutes looking at them before she saw him visibly pale as if he was going to start crying from fear.
“Goodbye Mr. Berbrooke, before I have you arrested.”
The wimp of a man leaves in hurry and Kate falls to her knees in exhaustion.
“Kate, sweetheart, are you alright?”
“Perfectly fine. Just tired from the chaos.”
Edwina sits beside her, crying into her lap, “thank you, I thought you were gone and this was our only hope. I love you so much, sister.”
“It’s alright. I said I will always protect you.”
Mary joins their pile on their floor, placing kisses onto her forehead. Newton as always trailing behind her. Kate was home. “Your leg is alright? How did you get Lord Bridgerton’s documents? Why are you dressed like that?”
“Mary calm down, I assure you I am fine. I was coming home tomorrow. And I-” Oh no. Kate never told him, he was running out of time and she forgot to say it.
“Kate?”
“I forgot. Lord, I have to go.”
“Kate calm down, go where?” But Kate wasn’t listening, already standing up and calling for a carriage or a horse.
“I have to go back. I have to tell him.”
“Go back where? Tell who what? Katharine, you are worrying me. Edwina, call a doctor.”
“No doctor. I have to tell lord Bridgerton I love him. I have to go now or it will be too late.”
“Oh my Lord!”
The carriage wasn’t out front anymore. Damn it all.
“Samuel! fetch me our horses! We’re going to Aubrey Hall!”
She felt giddy, the words fell from her mouth and they felt right. She loved him, she loved him. Surely if it felt like this, it wasn’t wrong. Maybe he loved her, or maybe he didn’t need to love her in return. She has to go.
“Katharine Sharma!”
She was gone before she could hear the rest of Mary’s yelling. It was dark outside, but not so dark that she couldn’t see.
She loved Anthony Bridgerton. And she hoped it was enough.
The door was open and the place was eerily silent.
“Hello, Anthony? Charlie?” Where was everyone? Was she truly too late? Had they all become their objects.
Her heart was beating too fast, panic settling in. If she had just quickly told him, maybe everything would have been alright. But there was no one in sight.
Until…
Suddenly, the soft sound of feet on the floor was sounding and a young voice yelled out to her.
“Miss Kate! Miss Kate! I’m a real boy again!”
He was tall, with blonde hair in tangled curls, his eyes a bright blue. If he was back, did this mean…?
“I can see that Charlie,” tears were welling up in her eyes as her heart continued to beat. “Where’s Lord Bridgerton?”
“He’s upstairs. I knew you were the one, I felt it in my bones. We came back not long after you left. You did it!”
She didn’t need to tell him, she just had to see it.
They got to the door to his chambers and Kate couldn’t help but close her eyes as she turned the handle.
“Kate?” Her eyes are still closed, but she could feel his warmth. He wasn’t as large anymore, his voice not as rough.
“If I open my eyes, this wouldn’t be a dream right? Would it be you in front of me?”
“I hope so.”
She could hear Charlie running down the hall, most likely to alert everyone of her presence.
“Okay. before I open my eyes. I had a sort of speech prepared, and I want to say it.”
No response was given so she continued, “ I know I haven’t known you long, but I know you enough. You are a kind, sweet, good man. The nicest man in England. You were dealt the short straw in life and yet you kept going, you are stronger than anyone I know. I fell for your eyes first, they invited me to see your heart and I’m still in a trance because of them. And I love you. I don’t know how the enchantress’ spell works, I don’t know if you have to reciprocate it. But I hope you do because I ruined this dress riding here on horseback and my mother is arranging a place for me in Bedlam as we spea-” She was interrupted by the feeling of soft lip covering her own, his hands around her waist pulled her towards him and all Kate could do was feel. Feel his body against hers, feel all her senses tingling as if electricity flowed through her. His facial hair tickled her face a little but she was lost of the sensation of him. Carved by God himself.
They pulled apart and she finally opened her eyes, and every day for the rest of her life she will want to go back to this moment. His face stretched to accommodate a smile, those deep brown eyes of his no longer filled with pain and sadness. Just her and the hope she gives him.
“I never thought it possible, but I love you. Only ever you. Anyone else could have stumbled through here and I wouldn’t bat an eye. But only you.” He places her hand over where his heart is, begging her to feel him be hers. She pulls him with the shirt under her palm and locks their lips once more, getting drunk with the feeling of being his.
“Baby in there?” Ned flashed a gummy smile at her as he gently placed his hand over her belly.
“Yes, they are. You’re going to be a big brother soon.”
“Like papa?” His eyes were exactly like his father’s and it was all she ever wanted. And all she hopes is they never reflect hurt like his father’s did all those years ago.
“What’s like papa?” There he was, the love of her life, the walking painting of her love. He was running around with Hyacinth and Gregory, being carefree and happy. It’s all she ever wanted for him too, to be happy like his father was. The past few years were difficult, but they did it together just like they’ll do everything else.
“Mama said I’m going be a big brother like you!” Anthony lifts Edmund on his shoulders, their smiles matching in the sunlight.
“Mama is always right. But you need to practice being a brother.” He winks at her and her heart flutters. Just like always.
Bending down so her son’s face was next to hers, “give your pretty mama kiss before we go. Good boy.”
“You too papa!”
“Of course, how can I forget?” He places a sweet peck on her lips before running into the garden, she still feels the tingles.
Benedict moves a chair to sit beside her in the shade. “You know, I don’t think we’ve thanked you enough.”
“What for?”
“For saving him, for bringing him back. Back to how he was before father passed.”
Shaking her head, she stares at her husband on the field, “I didn’t save him, he saved me.”
And he did. Anthony saved her life, made her welcome change, welcome the idea that she was enough. She was more than enough.
Tale as old as time,
Tune as old as song,
Bittersweet and strange,
Finding you can change,
Learning you were wrong,
Certain as the sun,
Rising in the east,
Tale as old as time,
Song as old as rhyme,
Beauty and the beast.