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Chapter Text

Truthfully, when her step-mother described the elegance of a London season, she never described it as so boring . 

Oh, it was elegant; Kate could not deny that. The London ballroom she stood in was fanciful in a way that only London ballrooms are. Flowers covered every available surface. The candles within the lofty chandeiler burned bright, lighting up the room and casting shadows across the faces of the dancers. Eager debutantes and apathetic suitors mixed together on the dance floor, swishing their skirts this way and that. It was really everything her step-mother had previously described.

But Kate Sheffield stood on the outskirts of the dance, alone, sipping the same lemonade she had begun a quarter hour before. Her step-mother, Mary, was not far away. She spoke with Lady Danbury, Kate’s sponsor for the season, and another woman Kate had yet to be introduced to. Kate’s dance card hung from her wrist, partially filled out. Her night had not been disastrous; Kate did dance with several suitors earlier this evening, having dull conversations and attempting not to walk over their toes. Regardless of the fancifulness of the room, Kate was having a boring time. 

Kate’s reasons for entering into London society, rather than simply finding a husband back home in Somerset, were rather simple. Her family’s financial prospects were dim, and she wanted her younger sister, Edwina, to be able to find a love match. Thus, Kate had come to London to find herself a husband who was both wealthy and generous, so that she could provide for her family and allow Edwina the opportunity of a lovely season. For her family, Kate would undergo hours of this boredom.

And it appeared that the boredom would draw on for hours, too.

The quartet on the opposite side of the room took a break as Mary finally deemed it time to return to the side of her eldest daughter. With her, she brought Lady Danbury and the other woman. Kate took a deep breath as they approached, anticipating another average conversation with society’s best.

“Kate!” Mary exclaimed as she approached, taking her daughter’s hand. “I really must introduce you to Lady Bridgerton. We were acquantinces during my season in London many years ago.” 

Lady Bridgerton gave Kate a brilliant smile. She looked around the same age as Mary, with fair hair and a nearly unlined face. She carried herself gentler than many of the other society matrons Kate had met that evening. Rather than her posture seeming unnervingly tight, Lady Bridgerton seemed comfortable and at ease. “Miss Sheffield,” she greeted. “It truly is lovely to meet you. How have you been finding London so far? Is it your first time in the city?”

“The first in many years, Lady Bridgerton,” Kate admitted. “I visited with my father when I was small, but I have not left Somerset in several years.” 

“Well, you must call on Bridgerton house at some point this week. My daughters would love another young lady to speak with. Perhaps we could even have a picnic, so that our families may be acquainted as we once were, Mary.”

“That would be delightful, Violet,” Mary said with enthusiasm. “Of course, we will need to see how many suitors call upon Kate first, but an afternoon picnic would be lovely.” 

“Of course,” Lady Bridgerton replied. She opened her mouth to speak again but was quickly interrupted by Lady Danbury’s loud voice.

“Lord Bridgerton!” she nearly shouted at a figure trying to move quickly past them. Kate was quite unsure how she spotted him, for he was sneaking behind the women, evidently trying to avoid the woman who must be his mother. Or Lady Danbury, who loved to meddle.

Lord Bridgerton froze for a moment before turning slowly to greet the women. “Lady Danbury,” he greeted in a deep, smooth voice. “Mother. How are we this evening?” He spared a glance toward Kate and her mother, eyes lingering on Kate before he turned back to his mother.

“Absolutely wonderful ball, eh, Lord Bridgerton?” Lady Danbury said, moving her cane closer to his toes as if to hold him in place. “May I introduce my charge for the season, Miss Katherine Sheffield, and her mother, Lady Mary Sheffield?”

Lord Bridgerton inclined his head toward Mary as was proper before turning to Kate. “Miss Sheffield,” he greeted, taking her hand and falling into a deep bow. As he brought her hand slowly to his lips, Kate could only focus on the warmth of his hand on hers and the warmth of his eyes. Something about this man seemed dangerous as his lips lingered a second longer than proper on the back of her hand. Kate’s skin burned through her glove where his lips touched. 

“Lord Bridgerton,” she greeted as he stood. Meeting his dark eyes was a challenge. Kate felt flushed. “It is a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Sheffield.” Lord Bridgerton, she noticed rather unwillingly, had a small quirk to his lips as if he was holding back a smile. “Is this your first season? I have not seen you around London before.”

“This is my first,” Kate agreed. Lord Bridgeton’s gaze was unrelenting, making it seem as though he truly cared about her every word. “I hail from Somerset, my lord. I do not come to London often.”

Lord Bridgerton nodded before speaking again. “Miss Sheffield, do you have a free dance this evening? I count myself lucky that I caught you unengaged just now. You must be nearly overrun with suitors at this point.”

Kate barely stopped herself from laughing aloud. Instead, she gave the man a rueful smile. “Not quite, my lord. The rest of my card is free at the moment.”

“Well, I must surely fix that then.” Before Kate could so much as move, Lord Bridgeton caught her dance card with one hand and pulled a pencil from his coat with another. “A waltz, I think, if you have permission?” Though the question was directed at her, he cast a glance at Mary just long enough to watch her nod before turning back to Kate. He scrawled his name across one of the lines of her card, and it took everything in her not to shiver as his gloved fingers grazed her wrist when he pulled away. Distantly, Kate had to remind herself not to immediately glance down to see his handwriting on her card when the man was right in front of her. “Until then, Miss Sheffield,” he nearly whispered as he pulled away. Lord Bridgerton nodded once to the assemblage of women and disappeared back into the crowd.

For the first time in her life, Kate nearly swooned. She looked dazed at the mothers standing in front of her, trying to decide if that entire exchange actually happened. 

Distantly, she tried to think back to the hour before. Had the night even really begun before Lord Bridgerton stood in front of her? 

Her original plans to come to London only for the sake of finding a wealthy and generous husband seemed distant in her mind.

-

When Anthony Bridgerton walked into the ballroom that night, he was not anticipating Katherine Sheffield. Truthfully, he was anticipating another boring ball to start the 1814 season. Anthony had attended enough of these to know that the first was rarely excited, except if you happened to meet someone exceptional.

Which he seemed to do.

Admittedly, he did not catch sight of Kate until his formal introduction. For the first hours, he spent most of his time trying to avoid his mother, staying on the outskirts of the ball and speaking quickly to the few men he thought worth a conversation. Before his introduction to the Sheffields, Anthony was attempting to sneak out to the smoke room. Now, he was grateful Lady Danbury nearly caught him by the ears.

Kate Sheffield was a wonder in his arms. No, she was not the best dancer, but the way Kate smiled nervously after each time she caught his toes was mesmorizing. As he twirled her in his arms, Anthony thought he would rather like to keep her there.

This was not how he thought his evening would go.

“Tell me, Miss Sheffield,” he spoke in an attempt to keep himself from drowning in her eyes, “how has your debut ball been thus far? Spare no details.” He knew his smile was more sly than encouraging, but Kate did not seem to mind.

“Truthfully, my lord? Rather boring, until now. I must admit, your company is the best I have had all night. Other suitors seem to lack a bit of charm.” Kate herself had a sly smile on her face as she moved away from him. Anthony was quick to pull her back.

“So you find me charming?” he asked, unable to hold back his grin. Kate pulled a confused face, as if she did not remember insinuating that.

“I did not say that, my lord. Rather that your fellow suitors seem to lack a bit of it. I have not known you long enough to ponder if you are charming.” An errant curl fell from Kate’s coiffure as she moved. Anthony barely had the restraint to keep himself from pushing it behind her ear. 

“I will just have to show you how truly charming I can be then,” he decided. Their dance was quickly coming to an end, but Anthony found himself wanting to stay by her side. He wondered just how improper it would seem if he asked for a second dance. Because it was only the first ball of the season, he figured it may not want to push his luck. “Do you have any siblings, Miss Sheffield?”

“Just one, my lord. A sister. She will hopefully make her debut next year.” Kate looked a little less certain of herself as she gave this answer. Anthony decided not to comment on her ambiguity. “And you?”

“Seven,” he replied with a brilliant smile. “We are rather famously named alphabetically A through H. Perhaps you can meet them sometime. They are a bother, but they are family.” 

Kate’s face held a brilliant smile as Anthony spoke about his family. Immediately, he could tell this was one thing they had in common. Kate loved her family as Anthony loved his. At the back of his mind, he thought that this would be a wonderful characteristic of a viscountess. 

As the quartet finished their song, Kate and Anthony were forced to separate. Their eyes met as he bowed and she curtsied, and Anthony felt that familiar heat begin in his stomach. Belatedly, he tried to push it away. He was looking for a wife this season, not a quick dalliance. Desire had no place in this courtship.

At the moment, at least.

Before she could go too far, Anthony grasped Kate’s arm and placed it into his. “A turn around the ballroom before I return you to your mother?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, Anthony led them in the opposite direction of where their mothers waited together. 

“I suppose,” Kate answered with a small laugh. Throughout their entire dance, a serene smile had rarely left Kate’s face. Anthony liked to think that he was the cause of it.

“Miss Sheffield, I hope I am not too forward in saying this,” Anthony began, steeling himself, “but I have had a wonderful time in your company tonight. Usually, these events are so dull I find myself looking for any excuse to leave.” He tried to walk as slow as possible, but their arrival to the mamas would be far too soon.

“I agree, Lord Bridgerton. My night was rather boring before I made your acquaintance.” Kate took a deep breath before continuing. “Perhaps we could do this again? I know our mothers are already plotting a family picnic, but perhaps I could find your company again at the next ball.”

“May I call on you tomorrow, Miss Sheffield?” Anthony blurted before he could truly think about it. “I find that my afternoon is free, and I would enjoy more of your conversation.” A light flush overtook Kate’s features, and Anthony almost preened at the effect he had on her. The blush made her face look even more delightful. 

“I think that would be agreeable,” Kate finally got out. “I believe you may find us at home.” The shy smile on her face did not dim as they approached their mothers. Carefully, he removed her hand from his arm and moved it slowly to his lips. Like before, his lips lingered just a moment longer than propriety dictates. His lips tingled where they met the back of her hand.

“Until then, Miss Sheffield,” Anthony murmured nearly in her ear. He released her hand, grabbed hold of his mother, and disappeared back into the crowd.

Kate was left speechless.

-

“Kate! Kate! Kate!” Edwina nearly howled as Kate entered her own bedchamber after the ball. Her sister sat in her nightclothes on Kate’s bed, bouncing up and down as she waited for her sister to answer. “How was the ball? Tell me everything!”

“Magical,” Kate managed to say, thinking of Lord Bridgerton, his smile, and his lips on her hand. “Simply magical.”

Chapter Text

When Anthony woke the next morning, he knew he had to do something.

When proclaiming his intentions to marry this season, Anthony had not expected a woman like Kate Sheffield. Truthfully, he had not expected much of anyone. Though he did have firm intentions of marrying, all the other debutantes he considered were, by comparison, boring . Their eyes did not shine like Kate’s did. Their hair did not flow like hers. He did not feel the same in their presence as he did in Kate’s.

Which was a bit of a problem, considering Anthony’s insistance that love would have no place in his marriage.

He did not desire a love match. A viscount did not need a love match, per say. He needed a wife, someone to manage his household, love his family, and give him heirs. He needed someone with decent conversation and mediocre looks. Anthony did not need a diamond; he just needed someone who could be a good mother to his children and who he could tolerate for the decade or so he had in his life.

Enter Kate Sheffield.

At first glance, Kate was definitely no diamond. Everything about her seemed too much and too little at once. Her hair was not quite as shiny as other debutantes. Her eyes were too big, her lips too full, and her chin the slightest bit too pointed. Katherine Sheffield, at first glance, was not the beauty everyone expected to attract a viscount.

Still, she took Anthony’s breath away in a way that he was decidedly unsure about.

But, though he was unsure about some of the feelings (any of the feelings, really) that Kate invoked in him, Anthony was still sure he needed to do something to get into her good graces.

Flowers, then, would be a good start.

As Anthony dressed for the day, he quickly tried to explain to his valet his plans for Kate’s flowers. This was not the first time he had sent flowers to a lady, but it felt distinctly different from the others. Previously, his mother and sisters had been the objects of such affection. They all rather enjoyed his attention, but Kate was different. To them, Anthony meant to show his affection. To Kate, Anthony was aiming more toward respect. Admiration. Certainly not affection. 

“A medium sized arrangement, I should think,” Anthony told his valet as he shrugged on his coat. “Nothing too dull, though. Something rather grand. I wish for it to stick out among the other flowers. A bouquet of peonies, I believe, should be sufficient.” There, peonies. A symbol of happy life, to show Kate what their future could look like. 

“A card, my lord?” His valet prompted. Anthony froze as he finished dressing. He had not thought about a card. 

“One of my calling cards, please. Give me just a moment to think of something.” After his valet handed over one of his calling cards and left the room, Anthony sat down at the escritoire in the corner of his room. He glanced out the window, took a deep breath, and began to write.

-

Rather unceremoniously, Mary pulled Kate from her bed early the morning after the ball.

Well, Mary herself had not truly done the pulling. Instead, she had commanded Kate’s lady maid to do the waking, and once she was awoken, barged into the room to ensure that Kate would remain up.

“You must be up! Presentable! We have to be ready for callers this morning!” Mary was far, far too chipper for this early in the morning. Kate, who had stayed awake far too long after the ball giving Edwina all the details she desired, did not even bother to look at the clock as she yawned; she knew she would not like what she saw.

“Mary, should we really be up this early? Considering the few dances I had last night, I really doubt we will be overrun by suitors by breakfast.” Kate doubted they would be overrun by suitors at all , but she supposed she must entreat her step-mother. 

“Nevertheless, you must be up,” Mary said with a gentle smile. “Your maid is warming you a bath as we speak, and Edwina is readying herself for a day in the drawing room. It’s your first true morning as a debutante, Kate. We must be ready.”

Kate could tell that her step-mother was far more excited about this situation than she herself would ever be, but she did not begrudge her. Instead, Kate pulled herself from the bed to ready for her bath.

A day with her newest book in the drawing room did not sound too terrible.

-

Just after breakfast, a knock sounded on the drawing room door. It was their butler, standing in the door.

“Flowers for you, Miss Sheffield,” he said with an odd expression. Kate was a bit offended that he found it odd that she was receiving flowers, but she suspected that the butler had not entirely warmed to the new family. They had only been in London a few days, after all. 

“Oh!” Edwina exclaimed as the butler crossed the room to place the flowers on the mantle. He nodded quickly before leaving the room. “Who do you think they are from, Kate? Did you truly meet a suitor last night who would send flowers?”

Kate rather thought she knew who they were from, but she did not dare to get her hopes up before she read the card. Placing her book down and getting up from the settee, Kate crossed the room with quick steps to reach the flowers. Distantly, she noted that they were peonies. Happy life. Hm. Before she thought further on the potential meaning of the flowers, Kate plucked the card from their midst and glanced at the name.

The Right Hon. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton

“Viscount Bridgerton,” she murmured quietly. Edwina shrieked. Mary exhaled. Kate tuned them out as she pondered the rest of the card. Anthony .

Miss Sheffield,

Poetry is not one of my charms, but for you I may try. As the sun dawned over London this morn, my thoughts lie with you. New beginnings, happy lives. Hope dawns in my heart.

Perhaps it is not unfounded.

Yours,

Anthony Bridgerton

Dazedly, Kate tucked the card into the folds of her dress without a word. Edwina was still loudly shrieking from her spot on the settee, bouncing on the furniture in a way that was distinctly unladylike. Mary seemed unconcerned with the manners of her daughter, instead smiling knowingly at the flush of Kate’s cheeks. 

“The viscount, eh?” Mary prompted with that same smile. “I watched the two of you dance last night. You both seemed rather… involved.” Kate thought she was probably suggesting how the world fell away when she danced with Anthony. She made no comment.

“You danced?” Edwina nearly yelled. “You did not tell me you danced with a viscount, Kate! Only that the night was boring, and you danced with boring men!”

“Not untrue,” Kate replied, still trying to will the blush from her face. “They were rather boring men. Except Lord Bridgerton, it seems. He was rather exciting.”

“I cannot believe you spoke nothing of him!” Edwina protested. Kate could tell that her sister was beginning to be worked up by her inability to participate in this portion of Kate’s life, but she made no move to calm her down. She was still trying to parse out her feelings about the card.

Truthfully, Kate had been rather charmed by Anthony. He had kind eyes, a nice smile, and enough money to accomplish her original goals. The Bridgertons were famous in London, as Mary had told her later. They were kind and intelligent and very powerful. As far as Kate could tell, it would be a beneficial match. Plus, perhaps she could even grow to love Anthony. He was charming enough that it would not be an issue.

“I was unsure,” Kate began, thinking about her words carefully, “that anything would come of it. He is a viscount, after all. Surelly he is a bit of a rake.” Kate did not want to get Edwina’s hopes up about their courtship. Kate did not even want to imagine a courtship at the moment.

“He seems rather taken, to be sending flowers,” Mary pointed out before Edwina can reply. “Do not be so disparaging, Kate. Lord Bridgerton did truly seem to enjoy your company.”

Kate just nodded instead of responding. She thought she would wait to see if Anthony actually called before beginning to think too far into the future.

-

Just as Kate suspected, no suitors entered their drawing room after breakfast.

Or by midmorning.

Or by noon.

Two more flower arrangements had arrived since Lord Bridgerton’s, each from a suitor Kate danced with the night before. Their words were not nearly as inspiring as Anthony’s, nor did Kate feel anything when they did not call shortly after. Instead, she sat in the same spot on the settee, hoping that Anthony was not fibbing when he declared his intention to call on her.

As lunch turned into the afternoon, Edwina was practically bouncing in her seat. Mary had permitted her to stay during any and all of Kate’s calls, and so she was, as the afternoon dragged on, becoming even more anxious than her sister was. Kate already dreaded Edwina’s season. If she acted like this during her sister’s, how were they meant to control her enthusiasm during her own? Edwina was surely a diamond of the first water, with her flowing blonde hair and glowing complexion. Her suitors would be flowing from the drawing room.

Admittedly, Kate had lost interest in her book a long time before. Instead, she was bouncing her leg nearly as much as Edwina was her whole body. Despite her best efforts, her anxiety was creeping in. She tried to convince herself that she wanted the viscount to appear only to save her from the wretched fate of having absolutely no callers.

Not at all because she maybe just wanted to see him.

Noon had long passed when their butler once again knocked on the door. His face this time was slightly less pitying as he said, “Lord Bridgerton has come to call, my ladies.”

At this, Edwina let out another squeal. Mary had a pleased smile on her face as she told the butler to send him in. “Sit up straight, Kate,” she warned from her seat. Kate barely had a moment to adjust before the viscount was walking in and she moved to stand.

“Lord Bridgerton,” Mary greeted in that smooth voice favored by mamas of the ton . “May I introduce my other daughter, Miss Edwina Sheffield?” 

“Miss Edwina,” Anthony said quickly, paying her the proper respect. His eyes, though, quickly turned to Kate. “And Miss Sheffield. You look lovely this morning.” 

Kate’s cheeks burned as she attempted to respond. “Thank you, my lord. I trust you enjoyed the rest of the ball?”

“Not quite as much as our dance, admittedly,” Anthony answered with a small smirk. “But it was adequate.” He spared a quick glance around the room as he moved to his seat next to Kate, as if trying to locate something. As his eyes landed on the flowers on the mantle, Anthony’s smile spread from a small smirk to a boyish grin. Kate found that she rather liked that smile. “You received my flowers, then?”

“Yes, they are rather lovely, my lord. I enjoy peonies, although they are not my favorite.”

“And what would be your favorite, Miss Sheffield? So that I may correct my mistakes next time.” 

Kate nearly gasped at the idea of a next time. Although the viscount seemed rather intent with his attentions, she did not dare hope for another visit. “Tulips,” she said decidedly. “We have a patch of them at my home in Somerset. I rather like the orange ones.”

“Noted,” Anthony answered, nodding his head. 

They fell into a quick silence before Kate spoke up again. “How did you spend your morning, my lord? What does an average day look like for Viscount Bridgerton?”
Beside her, Anthony groaned in a way that made him seem decidedly more boyish than viscount. “There is no average day as a Bridgerton, I must profess. I try to have breakfast with my family each morning. This morning Hyacinth, my youngest sister, has decided she wants to move to Scotland. She says Gregory has simply become too annoying to deal with.” Anthony, Kate noted despite his protests, had a fond smile on his face. She could tell just how much he enjoyed his sister’s ravings. “My other sister Eloise agrees with her. Not about Gregory. She simply wants to move to avoid the trials of a London season.”

“I find that I don’t much blame either of them. Surely Scotland is lovely this time of year.” Kate grinned back at him. “I dare say I have felt the same way about Edwina, wanting to escape.” 

“You seem to dutiful a sister for that,” Anthony commented. “As much as I myself would like to escape my younger siblings at times, I don’t think I could ever truly leave. They are pains to manage, but they are my pains.” Kate thought she was very fond of his love for his siblings. That they had in common. 

Anthony had a rather nice voice, Kate thought. It was smooth and rough in all the right places. And he spoke with his hands, she noticed. Kate was rather drawn to his hands as they gestured along with his story. “What else did you do today then, my lord? Besides attempt to keep Hyacinth from running off.”

“Parliment,” Anthony winced. “It was rather dull. Truly, you don’t want to hear much about it.” 

“Try me,” Kate insisted. Distantly she noticed that her smile had not waned yet. That was a bit odd. 

For the next several hours, Kate and Anthony filled their own little world. Kate was barely aware of Mary and Edwina’s presence nearby, watchful eyes that society dictated necessary. She and Anthony poked and prodded at each other, talking about their days and ideas from Parliment and the weather of London recently. Their conversations were a bit surface level, but Kate found that she did not mind. She enjoyed disagreeing with his opinions and watching his face light up as he tried to explain why he was correct about this Parlimentary bill. It was fun speaking with Anthony. She liked their time together.

Kate was sure that Anthony stayed much longer than any typical suitor would have. The sun was sinking in the sky by the time Anthony finally looked at his pocket watch in surprise. 

“I really must be going,” he insisted as he stood. “I am due to my mother’s for dinner not long from now. I hadn’t realized it was so late.” Anthony did not look particularly like he wanted to leave, but he headed toward the drawing room door with Kate following close behind him. “I had a very pleasant afternoon with you, Miss Sheffield.” As they stood in the door, Anthony grasped Kate’s hand in his and brought it to lips. Kate wondered if it would ever stop burning when his lips touched her hand. She hoped not.

“And I with you, Lord Bridgerton.” She bit her lip before deciding that Kate, naturally, was nothing if not forward. “Will I see you at the ball tomorrow night?”

Anthony looked delighted. “I believe I could make an appearance for your sake, Miss Sheffield. After all,” he leaned in close, “who else would save you from all the other boring suitors?”

She let out a loud laugh despite herself. “I would be very pleased with that, Lord Bridgerton. Until then.” She gave him her most genuine smile as he took one backwards step from the door.

“Until then,” he replied, and Anthony was gone.

-

Later, as Kate laid awake in her bed, she thought of Anthony. She came to London not expecting much. Kate was no diamond, and she was fully aware of that, but she still had that childish hope that a prince charming would sweep her off her feet. She did not need to marry for love; in fact, she really had no desire to marry for love. Kate wanted a husband who was kind and generous. She wanted to provide for Mary and Edwina. She wanted to have children. Kate wanted a content life; she did not think that desperate love had a place in that future.

Anthony Bridgerton was dangerous.

He was handsome, that was sure. Anthony had a kind of rugged handsomeness that seemed to fall outside society’s bounds. His hair was a touch more wild than society typically dictated, and his smile was a touch too sharp. Anthony was still a viscount, and he still fell well within what society ascribed to him, but Kate could see a hint of the rake he was rumored to be. 

And he was charming. So charming that Kate could practically feel herself melt into a puddle when he turned one of his true smiles on her, not a smirk (though the smirks were not too bad either). He was kind, and he doted on his siblings. Anthony knew responsibility in the way Kate herself did, and Kate felt herself drawn to him.

Considering Kate’s original idea to ignore the concept of love, she seemed to be in a world of trouble. 

And Kate Sheffield was not entirely sure that she minded. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, blissfully, Mary let Kate sleep in a bit. There was yet another ball that night to prepare for, her step-mother warned, and thus she could use a bit of extra sleep. Kate woke and dressed slowly, trying to keep her mind off the previous day and upcoming night. She wanted to spend the morning with her family, not anticipating what could possibly occur at the later ball.

By the time Kate entered the breakfast room, another large bouquet sat on the table. Mary and Edwina had twin grins on their faces, looking eerily like the mirrors they were. Edwina had the same fair coloring as her mother: blonde hair, blue eyes, and the peaches-and-cream complexion that so many other society debutantes strived for. Mary looked similar, though her face was more lined with age.

Only Kate had her father’s complexion. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a slightly less delightful visage. She tried not to think too much about that.

“Flowers again?” Kate asked as she whisked into the room. Her skirts swished around her ankles as she made her way to the breakfast table, trying not to look for a card within the flowers. Unlike the previous day, these were tulips. Orange tulips. Really, there was no question who they were from.

“The viscount!” Edwina squealed. “Oh, aren’t they delightful, Kate? He has an eye, truly.” Edwina looked as if she were halfway in love with Lord Bridgerton herself, with the way she swooned over the flowers. She was far too committed to Kate’s love life.

“They are nice,” Kate agreed. After filling her plate, she sat at the available seat at the table, staring directly into the flowers. She could barely see her family around them. “What are we doing today, Mary?” she asked as she took a bite of her toast.

“You have an appointment at the modiste, dear. Then I suppose we shall wait until the ball tonight. I believe it is one of the Middlethorpe’s. It should be great fun.”

Despite herself, Kate groaned. She truly did not care whose ball it was. If it was anything like the first, she was beginning to really dread her prospects this season. “I suppose it is better than sitting here all day waiting for a suitor to call,” she muttered. “Off to the modiste we go.”

The women finished their breakfast with minimal speech, each preparing themselves for the day. As they stood to prepare themselves to leave, Mary handed Kate a small piece of paper. “The card from the flowers,” Mary told her with a sly smile at her daughter’s confused look. “Don’t worry. I did not read it.”

As her family left the breakfast room, Kate allowed herself to flip over the card labeled The Right Hon. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton , and she let herself smile at his words.

-

Though Kate would not admit it out loud, this ball was already much better than her first out in society. 

For one, suitors seemed to be paying more attention to her. Kate had had a few more introductions at this ball than her last, and each man seemed at least a little bit interested in her presence. Oh, the conversations were still a bit boring. One man only spoke about the weather. Another, as they danced, spoke only about the animals he had seen on his travels. He allowed no time for her own responses but rather spoke through their entire dance, gave her a deep bow, and scurried off.

Kate was a bit perplexed after that one. 

One man, though, did stick out among the bunch. A Mister Thomas Dorset who, he proclaimed, had the greatest desires to move to the countryside and become a doctor. Kate learned that he was currently an assistant for a doctor not far from her rented home in London. She found herself a bit charmed by his boyish grin and bright eyes. Thomas practically oozed enthusiasm as he spoke to her, and Kate could not help but smile back. 

“At the risk of coming off too enthusiastic,” Thomas started, appearing a bit flushed, “I must say I do enjoy your company, Miss Sheffield. I saw you at the ball two nights ago and desired an introduction, but I could not find anyone to give me one. I am grateful I was able to tonight.” He leaned a little closer than propriety truly called for, and Kate caught a whiff of his cologne. Distantly, she thought it was not quite as enjoyable as Anthony’s. Not quite as woodsy.

Anthony.

Where was Lord Bridgerton? Kate was foolish to hope that perhaps she would see him as soon as she entered, their eyes locking as if they lived in a romance novel. Yet still, she hoped. But throughout her first hour at the ball, Kate had seen no sign of the viscount. 

“Well,” Kate started, realizing she had not yet answered the man standing in front of her in her preoccupation, “I am grateful we were given an introduction as well.” Before she could say anymore, someone bumped into Thomas Dorset from behind.

“Oh! Pardon me!” The man exclaimed, turning to see who he had bumped. “Oh, Mr. Dorset! How wonderful to see you here!” Kate noted that neither man truly looked excited to see the other. “May I ask for an introduction?”

“Right,” Thomas said, looking less than pleased. “Miss Sheffield, may I introduce you to Mr. Bridgerton?”

“Benedict Bridgerton,” the man said, taking Kate’s hand and falling into a deep bow. He placed a quick kiss on the back of her hand and stood back up. “Please, do not confuse me with any of my brothers. I am not sure which would be worse. Gregory, probably.”

Kate recognized that name. “I assume you’re Lord Bridgerton’s brother, then?”

Benedict gave a big, genuine grin. “The very one.”

She could see the resemblance. Both brothers had the same dark, chestnut colored hair. They had similar athletic builds, though Kate suspected that Benedict may be a bit taller than his older brother. His eyes may have been a shade lighter than Anthony’s but still a similar brown. At a closer inspection, there was truly no confusing the two for anything other than family.

Kate wondered if Benedict’s presence meant that Anthony was somewhere near, too.

“Miss Sheffield,” Benedict began with a twinkle in his eye, “I will admit I have heard a bit about you from my dear brother. Can I commendeer you for your next available dance?”

“I believe that my name is on your dance card for that, Miss Sheffield,” Thomas Dorset interjected, looking a little smug. Benedict did not look deterred.

“The next one, then,” the taller man insisted. “Really, I must have a moment with the woman who has caught my brother’s eye. It’s not often Anthony sends flowers.” Benedict had a sly smile on his face as he looked over at Thomas.

Thomas opened his mouth to respond when suddenly Kate heard another voice from her left. She was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed with the crowd of men surrounding her. Really, where was Mary to save her when she needed? She could not see her step-mother over the ever-increasing crowd of tall men, but she was sure Mary knew of her location.

“Benedict!” the third male voice exclaimed. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Colin!” Benedict exclaimed right back. “Back from Croatia, and this is the first place you choose to visit?”

“Mother wasn’t home,” the man, Colin, said, shaking his head. “Is an introduction in order for our friends?” He gave Kate a rakish grin that made her knees a little weak.

“Right,” Benedict nodded. “This is Miss Kate Sheffield and Mister Thomas Dorset. Dorset and I were at Oxford together, and I believe that this is Miss Sheffield’s first season in London?” Kate nodded wearily. “May I introduce the two of you to my brother, Colin Bridgerton.”

Kate was not entirely sure, but she thought she heard Thomas mutter, “Great, another Bridgerton,” under his breath. She almost agreed.

She really just wanted to see Anthony.

Colin gave Kate a customary kiss on the back of the hand before returning his green eyes to her. “Miss Sheffield, you simply must be new to the town. I rather believe I would have remembered one of your beauty.” 

Kate felt herself flush deeply. “This is my first season,” she explained. “I hail from Somerset. It has been a while since I have visited London.”

“I suspect we’ll be seeing much more of each other soon, Miss Sheffield,” Benedict said, once again turning his charming smile on her. “The ton is quite small, and balls are frequent. My mother continues to drag us around in hopes this will be the season we finally choose a wife. Perhaps we can become dance partners as a bit of a respite.” As he spoke, Benedict caught her dance card between his fingers, pulled a pencil from his pocket, and deftly scribed his name. “For now, though, Colin and I must catch up. I believe the next dance is starting, Dorset. I will see you for ours, Miss Sheffield.” With a wink and a small smile, Benedict and Colin were gone.

What was it with these disappearing Bridgerton men?

“We must find our places,” Thomas said, shaking her from her thoughts. 

“Right,” Kate responded. She was a bit irritated that she agreed to this dance with Thomas. At that moment, she would really have rathered to continue to stand post in her corner, nursing a lemonade and waiting for Anthony (or, more likely, Mary) to find her and whisk her away.

Kate was not sure what dance they were meant to be doing, but it was not very good for dancing. She was grateful because her head was still spinning from her interactions with two of the Bridgerton brothers. She could see the resemblances between the brothers; they were all tall, chestnut-haired, and had the same bone structure. Where the younger brothers were charming and mischeivous, though, Anthony’s seriousness shone through. Kate could, after only a few days, see how much more serious the viscount was. 

As Thomas Dorset spun her around, Kate really did try to have a good time. She tried to focus on the man she was dancing with at that moment, rather than the one she would have preferred to dance with. Thomas was kind, if not a little bland. He seemed genuinely interested in Kate’s conversation, and he was a doctor merely because he wanted to help people. Though certainly not highly titled, Thomas Dorset was not a bad pick. Kate and her family would want for nothing if she married him. 

Still, she couldn’t say she particularly wanted to.

Instead, her thoughts turned to Anthony. He too was kind and charming in a way that Thomas was not. He made Kate laugh. He made her want to argue. He cared about her opinions, but not enough to simply agree with what she had to say. Anthony would not be one to let Kate walk all over him; he would fight back, and Kate liked that. Mary constantly told her her personality was a bit overbearing. The viscount was not one to be pushed around. And, Kate reminded herself, he was wealthy. Edwina could certainly have a dowry and marry for love. Mary would definitely have anything she would desire. 

(And, Kate tried not to think, he was deviously handsome).

As the dance began to end, Kate tried again to focus her attention on Dorset. He was smiling broadly at her from his position with another partner, and Kate felt what could have been a flutter. 

But as she caught sight of a head of undeniably chestnut hair, she knew it was not.

-

Anthony Bridgerton was not ashamed to admit that he could be a jealous man. Unwilling to admit it, yes, but not ashamed. That was why he sent his brothers to interrupt Kate’s conversation with Dorset. Dreadfully, Dorset had already asked Kate to dance by the time Benedict agreed to the plot and made his way across the room. But it was no matter. They were currently dancing some multi-partner, high energy dance, and Benedict had secured a waltz. Anthony would simply take his brother’s place.

Admittedly, Anthony had arrived much later than he intented. He had gotten rather involved in paperwork in his study at Bridgerton House, and his mother had not alerted him when they left for the ball. Instead, Anthony arrived an hour later than he meant to and thus was forced to watch Kate preoccupied with other men.

Anthony’s lurking in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom was rather laughable, but he did not care much. His goal was, mostly, to stay away from the ambitious mamas ready to corner him into dancing with their daughters. Truthfully, he just wanted to converse with Kate, dance with Kate, kiss his mother on the cheek, and make his exit.

But she had been dreadfully occupied since the moment he entered the room, and Anthony was in no mood to intimidate boyish suitors into leaving Kate to his presence. He rather thought that she deserved the attention, actually, since her first ball was so boring. That did not mean he liked it, though. 

So he stood on the fringes of the ball and sent his brothers to extricate her from Dorset. Benedict and Colin both returned with glowing reviews of her. Colin, on her looks, and Benedict, on the gleam in her eye that suggested a wit stronger than other debutantes. 

As Kate’s dance with Dorset ended, Anthony finally decided to make his move. Dorset had deposited her back at her mother’s side, so Anthony began pushing through the crowd to meet them. First, he had ensured that Benedict was properly distracted by their mother; his younger brother was truthful in wanting to speak with Kate, but Anthony decided that he did deserve some seniority. After all, he was the head of the family. 

“Miss Sheffield,” he greeted as he finally pushed the last aging father out of his way to reach the mother and daughter. He was sure he would hear about the rudeness of Lord Bridgerton being muttered around Parliment the next morning, but he could not find it in himself to care. “Lady Mary. You both look delightful this evening.” 

“Lord Bridgerton!” Kate exclaimed, looking quite excited. “I must admit, you aren’t the Bridgerton brother I was expecting to see. I had the fortune of meeting two of your brothers earlier.” She had a small smirk on her face, and for a moment, Anthony wondered if she knew exactly why she had met his brothers this evening.

“I hope it wasn’t too traumatic, then,” he hummed. “Benedict and Colin can be rather a lot.” Anthony leaned closer, just for the sake of it. Mary was standing next to her daughter and had not said anything about his impropriety yet.

“I see the family resemblance,” Kate told him. “Though, I do think Benedict and Colin are the more charming Bridgertons.” Her little smirk was back. Anthony could think of at least five different ways he could get rid of it, but none of them were appropriate for polite society.

“Kate!” Mary admonished. “Let’s attempt not to insult Lord Bridgerton, please.”

“Nonsense,” Anthony disagreed. “This just gives me the opportunity to prove myself the most charming Bridgerton. My brother is indisposed at the moment, Miss Sheffield, but I was hoping you would allow me to take his place on your dance card.” He held his hand out between them, hoping that Kate would take it so that he could feel the heat of her.

“I suppose I can permit it, if he truly is indisposed, as you say.” Kate placed her hand in his, and Anthony had to hold back a shudder. Her hand was so warm . If it did not sound so cliche, Anthony would admit that he thought he felt a spark between the two of them.

“Oh, I assure you, he is.” Briefly, he glanced in the direction of his mother. “Now, we must take our places.” Anthony spared Mary a quick nod and pulled Kate out onto the dance floor.

“Indisposed, you say?” Kate murmured over the low buzz of the other dancers. “And what happened to him in the last half hour that made him unable to attend our dance? Your brother seemed rather excited, and I was hoping to hear some gossip about you.” She tapped the top of her foot against his toes as they waited for the music to begin.

“An ambitious mama, to be sure,” Anthony answered with a smirk. “Our own mother caught him, and surely by now she’s parading him amongst all the eligible debutantes.” The music began, and Anthony began to lead her through all the slow circles of a waltz. He did love to dance.

“And you had nothing to do with this?” She asked, smiling brightly. Her hand squeezed his once more.

Anthony put on his best shocked face. “And what are you insinuating, Miss Sheffield? That I would throw my own brother to the wolves for a dance with you?”

“Surely not, Lord Bridgerton. Only that you have been mysteriously absent until my dance with your brother.”

He ducked his head in acknowledgement. Kate spun under his arm before they were face to face again. “I was later to the ball than I would have liked,” he admitted. “Each time I tried to find you, you were otherwise occupied.”

“This ball is going much better than the last.” She appeared rather pleased with this development, so Anthony attempted to keep his distaste off his face. “I was rather disappointed to see your brothers instead of you, though. Not that they are not wonderful!” Kate panicked, thinking she must have insulted him. “I have just spent my night wondering where the elusive Lord Bridgerton could be hiding. 

“Yes, I thought that you were having fun with the myriad of suitors. My mother distracted me for a bit, so I was not able to find your side when you were free. Benedict and Colin, though, are rather good at… running interference.” Boldly, Anthony grinned at her as he waited for his words to sink in.

“Interference…” Kate muttered. “Lord Bridgerton, did you send your brothers to interrupt my time with Mr. Dorset?” Surprisingly, she did not look angry at his meddling. Rather, Kate looked amused at his antics. “You could have just approached me yourself, you know. I find that I don’t really mind your presence.”

“Ah, I won’t admit to sending my brothers,” Anthony said, lifting her a bit along with the dance. How long had they been dancing? With Kate in front of him, Anthony was sure it could have been minutes or years. “Perhaps they decided to do something nice for me, Miss Sheffield. They are my brothers, after all.”

“With the way you speak of them, I’m not sure they would be doing you any favors.” As she stepped forward, Kate stepped on his toes. Anthony winced a bit and squeezed her hand with his.

“Are you angry with me?” he whispered. “For you, I will tell the truth. I am a bit of a jealous man. I watched you speak and dance with men all night, and by the time you met Thomas Dorset, I could not longer contain myslf.”

“Not angry,” Kate told him, raising her eyes to his. “Just a bit peeved that you sent your brothers and not yourself. I’ll get over it, to be sure.”

“I’ll send you the biggest bouquet I can acquire tomorrow,” Anthony promised. “The delivery boys will have to bring it by horse.”

At that, Kate let out a laugh. Anthony liked that she laughed. “I need nothing that drastic, my lord. Perhaps another call tomorrow would be suitable?” He also found that he liked how she stepped outside the bounds of society. He wagered that no other debutante in the room would have the courage to ask a man to call on her.

“I shall clear my whole day,” he promised. “Perhaps we may promenade if the weather permits. That way I get you all,” he punctuated this with a spin that was not at all the final step of the dance, “to myself.”

Kate let out another laugh as she curtsied at the end of the dance. “That would be most agreeable, my lord,” she giggled as she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. Anthony began to lead her back to her mother.

Most agreeable, indeed. 

Chapter Text

Like most nights, Anthony could not sleep.

Anthony, like his father before him, often found sleep difficult. His mind often ran toward his account books and ledgers, bills at the modiste and Colin’s latest travels, rather than toward sheep, or whatever people counted to get to sleep. Often, dreams eluded him for a day at a time, and he wasted his nights by candlelight roaming the halls of his bachelor’s lodgings or else in his study at Bridgerton House.

Tonight was no different, except for the cause of his sleeplessness.

Instead of worrying about Eloise’s suitors or Hyacinth’s latest escapades, Anthony was thinking about Kate.

Kate, with small face-framing curls escaping her harshly pinned hair. Her lithe fingers clutching his in a dance. The way he could tell her body would fit perfectly against his, even as he stood the proper distance away. Her wide brown eyes that Anthony thought he could drown in. Her wide smile that he always wanted to be on her face.

Kate, who was agreeable in all the ways he desired for a wife. She was intelligent, cheeky, and poked at him in ways that other debutantes did not. Kate did not agree with his opinions for the sake of agreeing; she pushed back at him, inserting her own ideas and convincing him why she was the correct one. 

Kate would be a wonderful wife. She would be a good mother to their children. She would be a perfect partner to spend the rest of his short life with. Anthony desired her physically, surely, but he also wanted to know her mind in a way that scared him.

Anthony could not allow himself to love Kate. He could not allow himself to destroy her with his eventual death. 

Years ago, the greatest man Anthony knew, his father, was killed by a miniscule bee. With his father, some part of Anthony died, too. Edmund Bridgerton was everything Anthony had ever aspired to be; he was the perfect man, father, husband, and viscount. Anthony had spent every moment since his father’s death living in his shadow and attempting to meet the greatness that was his father. He knew though, no matter how many years he lived, Anthony Bridgerton could never exceed his father. Not in greatness, not in name, and certainly not in years.

Edmund Bridgerton was felled by a bee at the age of thirty-nine, and Anthony Bridgerton knew he would never live to see his fortieth birthday. 

His father’s death had nearly destroyed his mother. Edmund and Violet’s marriage was a love match for the ages, and his death created a larger hole in Violet’s life than Anthony had ever thought possible. They loved each other so much that, Anthony knew, his mother in that moment would have left her seven children to be with her husband again. 

Anthony had seen the interaction of death and love with youthful, inexperienced eyes. He saw just how easily lives can be rocked and destroyed. He saw how it could change children and tear apart families. Anthony would not be an absent father, but he could only hope to marry a woman who would not fall to pieces and absence like his own mother.

That was why, most prominently, Anthony Bridgerton did not want to marry for love.

Instead, he desired a cordial marriage. Anthony could allow himself someone he desired. He could marry someone whom he holds in friendship, in high regard, but he could not allow himself to love his wife.

That was why Kate Sheffield presented an issue. 

Kate was incredible. She was everything Anthony wanted and needed in life. He knew that she had the ability to soothe his sharp edges and light the passion that he so wanted in a partnership. Kate Sheffield was a wonder, and even after only a handful of days knowing her, Anthony found himself wondering when would be an appropriate time to offer marriage. A week? Two? He was not sure he could wait two.

The only problem was this: how does he keep himself from loving her? Kate Sheffield, with her wide eyes, endearing smile, and sharp wit, was undoubtably easy to love. But Anthony Bridgerton was formidable, and surely he could do whatever he put his mind to, even when it came to love.

Right?

-

The next morning found Anthony in the flower shop himself, trying to breathe from his mouth to prevent the headache that was sure to come from being surrounded by so many different scents. As annoyed as he was by the looks of the shop’s other patrons, Anthony tried to patiently remind himself he was there for a great apology bouquet. 

He knew nothing about flowers. Anthony knew that his mother imported tulips from Holland every few years for the garden at Aubrey Hall. He knew that Daphne preferred roses over any other flowers, and Hyacinth adored her namesake.

He knew that Kate smelled intoxicatingly like lilies.

That was the extent, truly, of his flower knowledge. Anthony was not the kind of man to send hidden messages through botanticals (with the exception of the peonies). He liked to think he had an eye for what looked good, but truthfully, Anthony’s talents lay elsewhere. 

Tulips. He was there for tulips. Kate told him that they were her favorite, so that would be his task for today. He wanted a grand bouquet, something that would stick out from those flowers sent by any of her other suitors. Anthony had no idea what a truly grand bouquet was meant to look like, but he stood in the best florist shop in Mayfair, and surely this man would be able to help him.

All in all, the tulips cost Anthony a pretty penny. Definitely not the cheapest of flowers, he grimaced as he exited the shop, but the smile on Kate’s face as she received them would be worth it. And he planned on bringing the flowers himself as he came to call today, so he would surely be able to see it. The thought made him smile warmly.

Anthony went by foot to the rented house of the Sheffields. He thought about bringing a carriage to complete his morning errands, but London was blissfully sunny, and he wanted to be able to walk and clear his head. After a sleepless night, Anthony could use anything to revitilize himself.

He walked briskly with the flowers, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. The streets of Mayfair were not intensely crowded, as they likely would be later in the day, but they were full enough that Anthony could not avoid seeing people he would really rather avoid. He was a man on a mission, though, and slowed down for no one. Anthony wanted to bring these flowers to Kate, see her smile, and perhaps promenade for a while before going back to his study to plot his next move. 

The eyes of the ton , though, were ravenous as he walked through the streets. Anthony could feel people staring at him, likely wondering which debutante had finally caught the eye of Viscount Bridgerton. He knew his reputation; the entire ton was waiting rather impatiently for the day the Merry Rake was finally defeated by Cupid’s arrow.

Ha!

Anthony refused to be brought down by love. Whatever he felt for Kate, it could not be that. Still, he did desire to see the look on her face when he appeared with the flowers, and the idea brought a warmth to his heart that he did not think he had ever felt outside his love for his siblings. Curious, that.

Finally, Anthony arrived at the Sheffields’ home. The butler took his card quickly and led him directly to the drawing room, for which he was grateful. Perhaps he had gotten a bit too cocky with the pleased smile on his face, because the sight before him was anything but pleasing.

Kate sat on a settee in front of a window, her hair and eyes glowing in the light. She wore a lilac gown that made her skin look even more lovely than usual, and a few curls were escaping her coiffure. She had a pleased smile on her face that settled something in Anthony’s chest.

The issue, then, was the number of men in the room.

Suitors littered the room, all looking at Kate as if she was some prize to be won. One stood in front of the fireplace, spouting some nonsense that Anthony supposed could be called poetry. Another sat by Edwina, paying the younger sister no mind. Two stood by the windows, one perched next to the table.

And Thomas Dorset sat in rapture next to Kate, far too close to her side. He had to be going against propriety. How was Mary allowing this?

Anthony stood in the door to the drawing room as the butler announced him, waiting for Kate to pay him any mind. After the dear poet finished whatever sonnet he had clearly barely memorized, she turned her eyes to him.
“Lord Bridgerton,” Kate greeted him with a pleased smile. “What a delight to see you. I trust you’ve had a good morning?”

“Miss Sheffield,” Anthony answered with a smile just as big. He crossed the room toward her as Kate stood from her seat. “These are for you.” He traded the tulips for her hand, placing a gentle, if not slightly scandalous for its length, kiss on the back of it. “My morning was pleasant, but even more so now that I am in your presence. Has yours been the same?”

“Rather busy, as you can see,” she muttered so that none of the other suitors could hear her. “We’ve been overrun, as you can see.”

“Nothing you do not deserve,” Anthony promised her. “I wish that all the ton would see your wonder as I do. Although, I could do without the other suitors.” He looked pointly toward Dorset, who still sat on the settee. 

“Cheeky,” Kate murmured with a sly smile. Then, louder, “Lord Bridgerton, these flowers are absolutely marvelous. Though, I do not have much fondness for tulips.” She gave him a secretive grin, and Anthony knew exactly what she was doing. 

Tulips would be theirs only to share, Kate Sheffield just told him. Anthony rather liked that.

Dorset had the nerve to look superior from his spot on the settee. Anthony ignored him.

Just then, Mary did Anthony the biggest of all favors. “Lord Bridgerton, why don’t you take a seat next to Kate? Mr. Dorset can sit near me. We have another chair.” Anthony nearly preened. It was impossible to ignore the wishes of the lady of the house. Dorset had to move and give up his seat.

Gratefully, Anthony took a seat next to Kate. “Before I forget,” he started, looking between Mary and Kate, “my mother hosts a ball in Kent each year at our ancestral seat, Aubrey Hall. My mother has yet to send her last round of invitations out, so I would like to invite your family to reside with us while we are there. The entire event lasts about a week, and it is quite the spectacle. I grew up at Aubrey Hall, and I would rather like to show you around my childhood home, Miss Sheffield.” 

“That would be an honor, my lord,” Mary replied, dipping her head.

“I should like to see the home that made Anthony Bridgerton,” Kate responded, teasingly. Her pinky curled against his for a moment before moving away. “Are you sure it is so grand? I would think it to be in shambles from the raucousness that your childhood surely was.”

Before he could think more about it, Anthony let out a loud laugh. “I assure you, I take great care of Aubrey Hall, even though we only visit once a year. It is a wonder to behold.” He put on his most charming smile as he looked at her.

“I would like to see it, then,” Kate told him softly.

That settled, he turned his body toward her and asked, “So, Miss Sheffield, what hobbies do you find joy in?”

“Oh, nothing that most ladies enjoy,” she told him with a blush. “I have little taste for the pianoforte, and my embroidery is rather dreadful. I do enjoy watercolors, though, and playing the flute.” Somewhere across the room, Edwina snorted.

“The flute?” Anthony probbed, grinning at the look on her sister’s face. “And I take it, by Miss Edwina’s reaction, that you are the most accomplished flutist?”

“She’s horrible,” Edwina piped before Kate could make any comment. “Really, if she suggests a concert for you, make haste in the other direction.”

“Edwina!” Mary admonished.

“No, she’s right,” Kate admitted with a blush. “I am dreadful. But I enjoy it, and I believe that counts for something.”

“I was never very talented at any of those pursuits either,” Anthony told her. “When my sister Daphne was learning all the skills society thinks a woman should know, my brothers and I tried to learn as well. Colin is quite the embroiderer, and Benedict found a passion for painting, but I was never good at any of it. My pianoforte always made Hyacinth scream louder than anything else.” He had a small smile on his face. Anthony realized that he had never admitted this to anyone before; only his family knew of his lack of talent in these areas. 

“Then perhaps we can be dreadful together,” Kate answered him with a soft smile.

“I would rather like that,” Anthony told her, linking his pinky with hers.

-

An hour later found the two promenading through Hyde Park with Kate’s mother and sister not far behind them. Well, Anthony liked to picture it being just the two of them. Kate’s monstrous cogi named Newton was trotting in front of them, sniffing at the grass and bushes and pulling constantly on his leash. 

“Is he always this hyper?” Anthony asked, watching as Newton strained yet again to sniff a rustling bush. The dog was energetic, constantly running back and forth and yanking poor Kate along with him as she attempted to control the animal.

“Not usually,” she confessed, looking a bit angry. “He’s a country dog and a rather spirited one at that. He likes being able to run and chase rabbits. Being stuck in the house all day does very little for him.”

Anthony looked at the dog, whose stomach was just dragging the ground. His short legs did his physique no favors. “It seems as if he just isn’t listening to you.”

“He listens well!” Kate protested. She looked as if she was one second from stomping her foot, but the eyes following their walk held her back. “He’s just in desperate need of some exercise.”

“Perhaps I should take the lead,” Anthony offered, holding out his unoccupied hand. “He seems to be pulling at you an awful lot. Surely I can manage the beast a bit better. He needs a firm hand, which you seem not to be giving”

“I can manage my dog just fine!” Kate nearly yelled. “He listened to me perfectly well before you came along.” Her glare was harsh and pointed. Once again, Anthony found that he rather liked winding her up. Kate’s hands moved expressively and her eyes almost glowed with fire. She was beautiful when she was angry. 

“Perhaps you should give me the lead, then, since he listens to me so well.” Anthony gave her a cheeky smile as Kate’s eyes snapped to his once again.

Then, several things happened at once. Kate moved first, wrenching her arm from Anthony’s and spinning to face him. As she spun, Newton spotted something in a nearby bush and tugged hard on his lead. Kate, already off balance from turning to Anthony, nearly fell over at the force of the dog’s tug and let go of the lead as she attempted to keep her balance. As soon as he was free, Newton rushed through the bush and vanished from their eyesight.

Anthony just barely had a second to breathe before Kate yelled, “Newton!” She then gathered her skirts above her ankle and took off running in the same direction of her dog.

Anthony spared just one glance at the sky, wondering how exactly his pleasant promenade with the one girl of the ton whose presence he enjoyed had turned into this, and ran after her. 

Evidently, Kate and Newton had played this game before. She chased after him, nearly screaming his name, pushing past anyone in the park who was in her way. Newton raced ahead of them, darting in and out of bushes and brush with a skillfulness that was unlike anything Anthony expected from the dog.

And Anthony himself ran along with Kate, letting out occasional shouts of “Newton!” and trying to figure out how to fix the situation. Were they meant to just run after the dog until he tired himself out? He did not seem to be that athletic of an animal; surely he only had a few more moments of running in him before he gave up on his chase and trotted back to Kate’s side.

Kate, for her part, did not seem to think so. As Newton ducked under yet another bush, she finally stopped running and whirled around to face Anthony. He almost tripped over her at her sudden stop. “This is your fault!” she proclaimed as she attempted to catch her breath. “If you had not distracted me, he wouldn’t have gotten away!”

“My fault?” Anthony asked, slightly miffed. “He has been pulling at his lead since we left your home. I rather think that this was inevitable. I don’t see how it’s my fault.”

“You distracted me!” Kate insisted, looking one moment from wagging her finger in Anthony’s direction. “Newton rarely ever does this. If you hadn’t distracted me with your arguments he wouldn’t have run away.” 

He could tell that she was merely worried about her dog running loose in an unfamiliar place, but Anthony thought her blame was rather misplaced. “Miss Sheffield, I assure you-”

“Newton!” She yelled again before he could finish his sentence. Almost immediately after she finished the word, Anthony heard a happy yip and a splash, and Kate met his eyes.

“The Serpentine,” Anthony confirmed and set off at a jog in the direction of the water. This time, Kate had to keep pace with him as he jogged and tried to think of a way he would extricate her beast from the Serpentine. 

They made it to the banks of the water fairly quickly to see Newton happily paddling throughout the water, looking content. Kate grimaced.

“He loves water,” she told Anthony, her face not pleased. “In Somerset, he jumped in pretty much every body of water he could find. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised it’s the same here.”

“How do you propose we get him out?” Anthony asked as he inched a bit closer to the water. If the dog swam just close enough, he might be able to pull him from the water, he thought. 

“Mostly we just wait for him to tire himself out,” Kate admitted. “After all his running, it can’t be too much longer.” Suddenly, she turned her eyes from Newton onto Anthony and placed her arm back in his. “Thank you for your help, by the way. You didn’t have to run all this way, Lord Bridgerton.” Kate’s eyes were soft and her smile was grateful. Anthony found that he liked the attention. 

“Nonsense,” he replied, shaking his head. “I can think of no other way I woud like to spend my day.” Quickly, he slid his hand into hers for a quick squeeze. then allowed it to move back to the crook of his arm.

“Really?” Kate asked dryly. “I can think of many better ways to spend my day.” But the smile stayed on her face just the same.

At that moment, Anthony saw his chance. Newton was swimming closer to the bank that he had before. He looked within arms length. 

He let go of Kate’s arm to move closer to the bank, and as Newton neared, Anthony took his chance and reached out to snatch the dog from the water. But Newton was remarkably quick, and the beast slipped from his hands before he could truly get a good grip.

And Anthony? Well, Anthony just slipped.

Whatever dirt he had pushed his boot into was not nearly as firm as it appeared. The dirt gave way, Anthony’s balance failed, and into the Serpentine he went. Before he could even think to take a deep breath, his nose was full of water, and there was a rush about him.

It took a moment for Anthony to get his bearings under the water before he could resurface. He took a moment to cough and shake his hair out in a decidedly not-dog fashion before looking around for the menace that landed him in this position in the first place. Newton was happily paddling just a few feet away. Anthony pushed himself over, snatched the dog out from the water, and waded over to the bank to throw the dog at Kate’s feet and push himself from the water. 

Before he could push himself out, though, Anthony heard a loud snort from the bank, and he looked up at Kate. She had a hand pressed over her mouth, trying valiantly not to show Anthony the amusement she was clearly feeling. Behind her, Mary and Edwina stood with not dissimilar expressions on their own faces. Kate let out another snort as she looked between Anthony and Newton, and then she was fully laughing.

Watching Kate laugh was a wondrous thing. Her whole body moved, shaking and leaning forward and backward with amusement for the situation. Anthony, despite his irritation with the situation, found a smile on his face. A part of him was rather embarrassed that he had fallen into the Serpentine in front of the woman he was trying to court, but a separate part was rather glad that he was making her laugh like this. Her laugh went against the typical notions of what society deemed proper for women, just like the rest of her. Her shoulders shook and every few seconds she let out a snort.

Anthony was a bit speechless.

But he was very uncomfortable in his soaked clothes, and belatedly he began to strip off his jacket. It was not very proper of him to go without it, but society could be damned for the afternoon. He would be foolish to keep on his very heavy, very wet coat.

At that, Kate’s laughter died. Her eyes seemed drawn to his arms, where the wet sleeves of his shirt clung. Before Anthony could do more than smirk, though, Kate dropped down to check on Newton, who had been sitting patiently at her feet with his tongue out. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, not meeting Anthony’s eyes. She still had a bit of a smile on her face as she checked Newton over for any injuries. “That wasn’t very well done of me to laugh at you like that. Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” Anthony told her with a smile. “If not a bit cold. But that’s no matter. I don’t mind you laughing, although I do hate that I had to fall into that horrible water to hear it.” As Kate stood, Anthony decided to finish his crusade against propriety by grabbing onto Kate’s hand fully. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as he did. “Although, I think this is the time I regrettably must take my leave. I should probably go before I catch a chill. I trust the three of you can make your way home without an escort?”

“Of course,” Mary agreed from behind Kate. “You really should go, my lord. We would hate for your condition to worsen.”

“I must,” Anthony agreed, turning his eyes back to Kate. “Until we meet again, Miss Sheffield.” With another kiss on the hand he was already grasping, Anthony was gone.

Chapter Text

The week leading up to their depature for Aubrey Hall was rather uneventful. Anthony called on Kate several other times at the beginning of the week, along with several other suitors who seemed determined to read her every work by every English poet ever , but the viscount left ahead of his family to ensure that Aubrey Hall was fully prepared to host the ton .

“I hate to go without my family,” he’d whispered to Kate on their Newton-less promenade the afternoon before he left, “but since Aubrey Hall is unoccupied most of the year, I have to make sure it’s ready for occupation. I’m afraid it can get rather dusty without frequent occupation.”

“I forget that you do have duties other than promenading and irritating your siblings,” Kate had teased him. “But thank you for your explanation, my lord. I’m sure it will be dreadfully boring without you here to save me from the other suitors.” No matter how disinterested Kate seemed, she could not manage to shake the attentions of the more persistent suitors. Despite some of Anthony’s comments, though, Kate was still enjoying the company of Thomas Dorset. He was kind and attentive and could provide for her family. Though she felt no feelings even resembling love toward him, Dorset would still be a decent match for her, so Kate continued to try and enjoy his company.

Anthony was less than amused whenever he found the other man in the Sheffield drawing room.

“I hope you won’t forget me in my short absence,” Anthony teased right back. Kate could sense a rather serious undertone in his voice, though. 

“Of course I won’t, Lord Bridgerton,” she answered him with a soft smile. “How could I forget someone who vexes me so? I rather hope you don’t forget about me, between your work and your tenants.” Kate looked up to see Anthony smiling just as softly back at her.

“You’ll be my every thought,” Anthony had promised.

The days after Anthony left Mayfair droned on without much excitement. Kate had callers and flowers each day, and she promenaded with her family and once with Thomas Dorset, but she felt no real excitement. As the days went on, Kate tried to fill them with the things she enjoyed before she came to London. She read, she attempted embroidery, she laughed with Edwina, and she played with Newton, but nothing seemed to fill her with the joy it used to. Much to her dismay, Kate was not happy with the person she had become. Now she seemed like some romance heroine who was lifeless without the man she was interested in. It was horrible, truthfully.

But as Kate sat in a carriage headed toward Aubrey Hall with what seemed to be the rest of Mayfair, she could only hope that his words were true. Not, perhaps, that Anthony could forget about her in their brief time apart. She knew the viscount better than that. Rather, she hoped that he did not take the time to rethink their courtship. Kate was a bit afraid that, after some time for reflection, Anthony would decide that there were other, more beautiful, more charming debutantes in London worthy of his attention.

Worthy of a viscount. 

Kate did not harbor any ideas that she was not worthy of Anthony’s attention or desire. She was secure enough in herself to know that Kate Sheffield was a good person; she had wit and talents. Kate was rather good at managing things, and she thought that she could succeed at motherhood. Kate was a good woman and could be a good wife to whoever she chose.

But Kate also knew that she had faults. She was abrasive, and loud, and had no qualms giving her opinions even when they were not asked for. She was competitive. Her wit was often more sharp than it was charming, and she failed at many of the basic standards that society held for women. 

Anthony had not seemed to mind any of these things, though he had not seen quite all of her yet. He seemed to find her wit and opinions charming, in fact. But he also had been away from her presence for several days. What if he had decided that he did not truly like her anymore? What if he preferred an easier debutante, one who had more womanly skills and a softer disposition?

Truthfully, Kate did not know what Anthony wanted in a wife. But as time went on, she, somehow, had rather been hoping he wanted her.

Whatever feelings she had for him were becoming rather undeniable. It was a fondness, for sure, that Kate was certain could turn into love. Anthony seemed to just be a lovable person; Kate could not really help her feelings. 

But still, she was unsure as to whether she should really even have feelings. She had only known Anthony for a few weeks. Not even a month. How was she supposed to know that they would suit in that small amount of time? They laughed together, sure, and poked fun and argued, but surely that could not be enough to shackle herself to another person for the rest of her laugh.

But, Kate tried to remind herself, this was not entirely about her. She owed herself some sort of happiness, yes, but she also owed Mary and Edwina a life. Edwina deserved a good season, a chance to find real love. Mary deserved a life, a repayment for taking in Kate as her own and losing her husband some years after. Kate owed them just as much, if not more, than she owed herself.

For that, she thought, Anthony Bridgerton could be entirely suitable. He was kind and generous; for all he loved his family, surely he could love Kate’s too. He doted on his younger siblings almost as a father would. Kate thought he could be just that kind and loving toward Edwina, if given the opportunity.

And, she tried not to think, Anthony was deviously handsome. Any other feelings aside, Kate desired him, and she thought, considering some of his lingering looks, the feeling might be mutual. For a moment, she allowed herself to relive the moment at the Serpentine, how Anthony’s arms had flexed as he pulled himself from the water, how his body had looked through his sheer shirt, how the water had rolled down his jawline…

Kate grimaced as her stomach churned with something that was decidedly not motion sickness. Those were not thoughts for the polite company of her mother and sister. Those were the thoughts she only allowed to slip through late at night in the comfort of her own private room. 

Not that Kate made a habit of thinking of Anthony while alone. In fact, she spent most of her time actively not thinking about him. Lord Bridgerton often seemed to take over her mind, leading her to zone out of conversations and be an overall unexciting person to be around. Edwina took great fun in it.

As the Sheffields’ rented carriage started its drive down the long road leading to Aubrey Hall, all these thoughts swirled through Kate’s head. Mostly, she thought of Anthony and his family. Would he be any different at his ancestral seat? The viscount was always so composed and serious in society, and Kate secretly hoped that she could see a crack in his visage in the country. The country always brought out anyone’s best, she thought.

And would his family like her? Kate had not been introduced to many of them. Benedict and Colin were pleasant to talk to, and she had had a brief interaction with Lady Bridgerton, but nothing substantial enough to know how she would truly fit into their dynamic.

Quietly, Kate hoped she could find her place among the Bridgertons.

“Look, Kate!” Edwina exclaimed, pulling her sister from her thoughts and back to the present. “We’re here! Oh, it’s beautiful!”

Kate attempted to glance around her sister through the small window of their carriage. She could only see glimpses of the home around Edwina’s head, but her attention was drawn more toward the family out in front. 

All in all, she counted ten people standing outside Aubrey Hall waiting for the Sheffield carriage to finish its drive to the home. The younger ones squirmed under the attention of their mother, as she obviously reprimanded them to stand still. 

Kate was rather anxious to get out of the carriage when she caught sight of Anthony, who was standing at the head of the line beside his mother with a small smile on his face. She thought she would much rather walk the rest of the distance if it meant meeting his family faster.

“Stop squirming, Kate,” Mary reminded her. “We’re about to stop.” Kate shot her mother a look, trying to convey her anxiousness.

They did stop, though it took longer than Kate would have preferred. Then, they had to go through the usual spectacles of waiting patiently for the footman to come around to open the door and help them exit the carriage. As Mary began her descent, Kate was contemplating just how long it would take her to wiggle through the window. Lady Bridgerton may not be amused, but she was sure Anthony would find it at least a little entertaining. 

Finally, though, she was able to exit the carriage. As soon as she did, though, Kate was wondering exactly what she was so excited about. Ten sets of eyes stared back at her, looking at her as if she were some sort of exotic animal. Kate felt a bit cowed until Anthony stepped forward to greet her. 

“Miss Sheffield,” he said softly, taking her hand. “I hope you haven’t forgetten about me.” Anthony looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he gazed at her softly before turning toward his family. “May I offer some introductions? There are quite a lot of Bridgertons, and we won’t be too offended if you cannot remember all of us.” His cheeky smile was back. “Family, may I introduce Lady Mary Sheffield and her daughters Miss Sheffield and Miss Edwina?”

“It’s a pleasure,” Mary said in all her matronly demureness, leading her daughters in a quick curtsey. “You have a lovely home.” 

“And Sheffields,” Anthony continued. “Let me attempt to introduce my family. My mother, Gregory, and Hyacinth,” he motioned toward the head of the line. “Benedict and Colin,” toward the two brothers standing close together with equally charming smiles on their faces. “The Duke and Duchess of Hastings,” toward the couple standing closest together, with their arms around each other. Kate assumed that the Duchess must be Anthony’s sister, considering her Bridgerton chestnut hair and brown eyes similar to that of her brother’s. “And Eloise and Francesca,” toward the last two of the group, sisters who looked almost like mirror images of each other, with the exception of their eyes.

“We are quite a group,” Lady Bridgerton confirmed. “I am so pleased you accepted our invitation, Lady Mary. I think we are going to have the most pleasing week in the country. I have so much planned!”

“We are honored that you extended us one,” Mary replied as she stepped toward the other woman. “I have never spent time in a country home as this. Kent is a far cry from Somerset.”

“Oh, you must tell me all about it over tea,” Lady Bridgerton gushed. “We will give you a few moments to recover from your travels, then we can all have tea before our other guests begin to arrive.”

“We’re early?” Kate asked, looking up at Anthony beside her.

“Your invitation may have displayed a slightly different time than the rest of them,” he answered her with his typical charming smile. “I wanted our families to have a moment together before we were relegated to host duties. It can get a bit tedious once the rest of the ton is here.” 

Kate nodded her agreement, and Lady Bridgerton and Anthony proceeded to lead the Sheffields into Aubrey Hall. She nearly gasped at the wide expanse of home in front of her. The entrance hall alone could likely fit their entire Somerset cottage within it. The ceilings were high, and flowers covered nearly every available surface. The walls and many of the decorations were painted that lovely Bridgerton blue. Despite its size, Kate thought that it felt homey and loved.

Lady Bridgerton noticed her intrigue as they crossed the hall to the stairs. “My ball is the annual Hearts and Flowers Ball,” she explained. “It rather takes a lot of flowers to live up to the theme.” Kate laughed along with her as they ascended the stairs.

“We gave your family rooms in the family wing,” Anthony said, appearing at Kate’s side. “They’re the best of the guest rooms, so I ensured that you can get them. I also ensured,” he lowered his voice, “that you could have a room alone, and Edwina could share with Mary. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous, but I thought you may want some alone time away from the rest of the ton. ” 

“Oh,” she answered, feeling rather surprised. Kate had not actually considered how she would feel, courting Anthony with the rest of Mayfair watching them closely. She was touched that the viscount had considered that and thought it necessary that she have her own space, even away from her family. “Thank you, my lord. I had not even thought about that.”

“Please,” Anthony started, looking at her with soft eyes, “call me Anthony. I feel that that’s appropriate, considering you are in my childhood home.”

“Of course,” she laughed. “Then you may call me Kate.”

Anthony looked as pleased as Kate felt, as they approached what must be the doors to their rooms. She wondered exactly where the viscount’s room was. Was it anywhere near hers? Did he still sleep in his childhood bedroom, and was there any remnant of the boy he used to be in the room?

Kate thought she would rather like to see it.

“These are your rooms,” Lady Bridgerton told them, motioning to two rooms, opposite to each other in the hallway. “Shall we have tea in thirty minutes in our informal drawing room? I can send a maid up to retrieve you once you are settled,” she offered.

“That sounds lovely, Lady Bridgerton,” Mary agreed graciously. “We will not take long. I know you are in for a very busy afternoon.” Her step-mother motioned toward the room she was closest to and pulled Edwina in after her, leaving Anthony and Kate in the hall with Lady Bridgerton.

“Kate, perhaps I could show you some of the flower gardens after tea? We likely would not have time to do a proper tour, but I would enjoy showing you some of my mother’s favorite flowers. I’m sure my sister would agree to chaperone,” Anthony added, glancing toward his mother. She looked content with his proposition.

“I would adore to see the gardens, Anthony,” she replied excitedly. “As long as you promise some anecdotes of the trouble you’ve gotten into there.”

Both Bridgertons gave Kate a bright smile and left her at her room to prepare for tea. She took a deep breath as she entered the room, ready to be amazed once more by the elegance of the house. Kate’s room was much bigger than anything she was used to, with a large bed situated in the middle and a spacious seating area against the opposite wall.

What surprised her most, though, was the large vase of tulips placed on the table near her bed. They were a mixture of colors, bright oranges, reds, and pinks, not quite as artfully arranged as the typical bouquet. A note sat at the base of the flowers, penned by a hand Kate was coming to recognize.

My dear Miss Sheffield,

Flowers for you, from the gardens of Aubrey Hall. I hope my arrangement skills are not too subpar. Perhaps a glimpse into the future?

Yours, Antthony

Kate could not seem to help the grin that crossed her face, and she moved quicker than she thought possible to ready herself for tea.

-

“I want to sit by Miss Sheffield!” Kate overheard Hyacinth yelling as she entered the room for tea.

“No, I want to sit by Miss Sheffield!” Gregory proclaimed right back. “And I am older, so I get to do it.” His voice was proud, and he puffed his chest in a way that only a thirteen year old truly could. 

Kate attempted not to laugh as she found a seat for tea, watching the two children argue in front of her. Lady Bridgerton, though looking rather amused at her children’s argument, was about to interject when Anthony spoke. 

“How about this,” he started, settling a hand on each of his siblings’ shoulders, “ I am going to sit by Miss Sheffield, since I am the oldest, and we can play hide and seek tomorrow to make up for it..” 

“Will you play with us, Miss Sheffield?” Gregory immediately asked her. He looked too excited for Kate to answer anything but an affirmative.

“Of course,” she answered with a hint of excitement. “But I must tell you, I have never lost at a game of hide and seek, even in places I am unfamiliar with.” At this, Gregory looked pleased, but Hyacinth still had a stubborn look on her face.

“Fine,” Hyacinth finally agreed as Anthony continued to look at her with his stern expression. “But Anthony, you must take me for a walk today. I demand it.” She crossed her arms and looked at her brother with an expression that was not incredibly unlike his own.

“It would be my pleasure, Hy. Perhaps we can go sometime after tea.” His face softened as he looked at his younger sister, and Kate’s heart swelled.

Finally, Anthony took his seat beside her, and Lady Bridgerton began to serve tea. Mary and Kate both protested at first, wanting to help, but Violet waved them off, saying she could not imagine making guests serve their own tea.

Kate watched as Eloise and Edwina quickly struck up a conversation and was pleased by how animated they both looked. Anthony had spoken before about his sister’s love of literature, and Kate knew that Edwina would get along with her swimmingly. 

While their families spoke boisteriously around them, laughing loudly and speaking over each other as if this was not their first acquanitance, Anthony and Kate sat silently side by side. After a moment, Anthony quietly asked, “Was your room to your liking, Kate?”

“It’s the most elegant room I’ve ever stayed in,” she confessed just as quietly. “I particularly enjoyed the tulips. Quite the arrangement, I think.” Her grin was a bit coy, and Anthony looked pleased.

“Miss Sheffield,” Benedict nearly shouted to be heard over the noise of the room, “your mother says you are a most accomplished watercolorist. We must find some time to paint together this week. I have some watercolors in my studio, and it would give me time to find out exactly how you vex my brother so.” He had a smile on his face that was nearly more charming than his brother’s, and Kate found it difficult to say no.

“That sounds delightful, Mr. Bridgerton. Perhaps we can gossip about your brother while we’re at it,” Kate answered with a wink toward Anthony. The viscount looked a little put out as he sipped his tea.

Across the room, Benedict laughed. “Oh, I would be most delighted to share all the information I have. I have years of gossip.”

“That’s quite enough!” Anthony interjected, looking a little red.

“I don’t think it is, Anthony,” Kate countered, slyly nudging the man beside her with her knee. “Surely you have no embarrassing stories to hide?”

Anthony turned even redder as Benedict said, “Brother, I like her,” with another, wider grin. “Miss Sheffield, we will definitely find time to paint. Perhaps while my brother is out tending to whatever his viscountly duties are in the village, so that we may have some uninterrupted time. With an appropriate chaperone, of course,” he added hastily after a glance from his mother. Violet nodded happily and continued conversing with Mary. 

Kate, content to just sit at Anthony’s side and take in the conversation around them, turned her gaze to the Duke and Duchess sitting on their own settee together on the outside of the conversation. Though the rest of the family was speaking loudly and energetically with each other, as if they had not been together in weeks, Daphne and Simon (as Anthony had told her their names) sat together quietly, holding hands and murmuring and shooting each other soft, contented smiles. 

Daphne had a sense of peace surrounding her. Her smile was serene and her eyes rarely strayed from her husband, except to look bemusedly toward her own siblings. Every few minutes she would laugh at something one of her siblings said, then turn back to Simon and chat with him again, that smile still covering all her features. 

Kate wondered if she ever looked that relaxed, or if she could find that kind of happiness in her life. Perhaps with Anthony.

Once again, Kate tried not to get ahead of herself.

As she was finishing the last of her tea and biscuits, Anthony finally turned to her and spoke, “Kate, would you like to take a quick stroll through the gardens. And Daphne,” he questioned, raising his voice, “I was rather hoping you and Simon wouldn’t mind chaperoning.”

“Of course, brother,” Daphne agreed as Kate nodded her agreement. Together, the four of them stood and strode from the room, leaving the rest of their families behind to continue chatting before the first of the guests began to arrive. 

“I’m told that the gardens of Aubrey Hall haven’t always been this grand,” Anthony began as they walked out of the door. “They’ve always been a certain level of grand, obviously, but my mother made a great deal of changes here when she became Viscountess Bridgerton.” 

“Like what?” Kate asked, fitting her arm snugly within the crook of Anthony’s elbow. She liked how simple it seemed, them fitting together. She also did not mind how the warmth radiated from Anthony’s body. She wished she could get closer, but Kate was conscious of Daphne and Simon walking at a respectful distance behind them. “I cannot imagine them looking any different.”

“As I’m told, she expanded the gardens quite a bit when she got the opportunity,” Anthony answered, smiling at her. “They were once much smaller. She also imported a great amount of tulips from Holland and still does when it is necessary. She also had a great maze grown in the back of the gardens. It isn’t very complicated, but it was great fun when we were children.” His face was nostalgic as he seemed to get lost in childhood memories. 

Kate allowed him his peace for a moment as they passed by the peonies. Before they could walk any further, she pulled him to a stop in front of the flowers. “Happy life,” she murmured, looking up at the viscount. “Your home seems wonderful. I can already imagine little Anthony running through these halls.” Kate tried her best teasing smile, trying to pull him from the memories that had created a small frown on his face.

“Kate,” Anthony said suddenly, taking one step closer to her than was proper, “I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m being too forward, but I invited you to our home for a reason.” He looked rather nervous as he took her hands. “I think we fit well together. We are well suited in our manners and goals, and our life together would not be boring. This was our home until our father died.” Anthony took a moment and looked into the flowers, seeing something Kate could not even begin to imagine. “I just ask that while you’re here you try to picture yourself in this place. Could you see yourself here, laughing with our families? Could you picture our children running through the gardens as we chased after them? Could you see us together, building a life here?” Anthony looked back at her, his eyes piercing. Kate, before she could stop herself, fell a little deeper at the open admiration shining intensely in his gaze. “I’ll be thinking about it. I’ve been thinking about it for these last few days, honestly. I just ask that you do as well.”

“Of course,” Kate breathed, mesmorized by the look in his eyes. “I have been thinking about it, honestly, but I’ll continue to do it here.” 

“And your thoughts?” he asked anxiously, clutching her hands a little tighter. Desperately, Kate wanted to rip off her gloves and feel his heat on her bare hands. She thought it might wreck her. 

“I can picture it,” she whispered, probably a little desperately. “Perhaps not the kids, or even here at Aubrey Hall yet, but us, our families together. I can picture it.” Kate found herself trapped by his eyes.

“Good,” Anthony whispered right back. “So can I.”

Chapter Text

Kate was not entirely sure how she ended up in this situation.

Fifteen minutes ago, she agreed to playing some lawn game called Pall Mall, because she liked both the idea of competition and the idea of beating Anthony at something, even though she had never played. She was sure she could succeed. Surely a lawn game could not be that hard.

Kate was quickly proven wrong when she saw just how competitive the Bridgertons were when it comes to their beloved Pall Mall.

When all the Bridgertons except Anthony smiled manically at her choice of the black mallet, Kate knew she was done for. 

“What’s the problem?” she questioned nervously as Daphne, Colin, and Simon looked back at her with wide, devious smiles.

“No problem,” Anthony answered tightly.

“You’ve got the mallet of death,” Daphne explained, looking positively gleeful. “It’s usually Anthony’s mallet. He gave it the name. He’s never played a game without it.”

“It’s really no issue,” the viscount insisted, though he looked like he had swallowed something vile.

“Really?” Colin nearly shouted before Kate could respond. “You threatened to beat me the last time I-”

“You exaggerate!” Anthony interrupted before his brother could finish his sentence.

“This is yours?” Kate turned toward Anthony, finally understanding why everyone was so gleeful. “Do you need it, my lord? I know some men cannot perform without their favorite tools. Like a child with a blanket.”

The viscount looked as if any moment smoke would begin to pour from his ears. “The mallet is all yours, Kate,” he answered her, trying to be the perfect picture of a gentleman. He was clenching his fists a bit too tightly, though. “I assure you, I can win with any mallet.” This, Kate noticed, was more pointed toward his siblings than her.

“Right,” Colin agreed, trying to appear serious. “Well, if Miss Sheffield has chosen her mallet, we should begin.”

At that, the other four lunged forward quickly to grab their mallets. For a few seconds, it was chaos; arms and elbows flew everywhere, and Kate was amazed that no one was seriously injured in their gamble to get their favorite mallet. Everyone appeared unscathed with their respective mallets, though Anthony looked murderous with his pink one. As he looked at Kate, he tried to put on a winning smile.

“Pink’s a winner’s color,” he told her through clenched teeth.

Kate hummed, not exxactly believing him. 

“Can we start?” Colin finally huffed as he watched Kate and Anthony with vaguely interested eyes. “Some of us have other things to do today that don’t include flirting with each other.”

“Colin!” Daphne admonished. Then she looked a bit sheepish and added, “Though I would like to start.”

“Shall we play youngest to oldest, then?” Colin suggested.

“I would rather a moment to try to understand exactly how to play,” Kate answered frustratedly. “Since no one has deemed it necessary to tell me the rules.”

“There are few rules when playing with Bridgertons,” Simon told her, laying a hand on her shoulder that felt almost paternal. “You’d be better off learning that now.”

“Oh, I think I’ve realized,” she muttered.

“We can play oldest to youngest, then,” the duke told everyone jovially. “I’ll start.”

“Can anyone tell me how to play?” Kate asked when her turn came. She had watched Simon, Anthony, and Colin all whack their balls rather viciously toward the first wicket, and now Kate was left trying to figure out exactly how she was going to compete with their swings. As they were setting up the course, Daphne’s only explanations of the game had been to “hit the ball through the wickets” and “play the players.” Because Kate had never played before, she was not entirely sure she could do either.

“Just give it a good whack that way,” Daphne told her much in the same way she had explained the game to Simon not minutes before. She motioned toward the first wicket they had set up.

Figuring that was the only advice she was going to get, Kate steeled her shoulders and took a deep breath. She put as much force as she could behind her swing, and Kate’s ball soared through the air, whacked the same tree Anthony’s ball had minutes prior, and dropped to the ground next to it.

Across from her, Colin howled a laugh and Daphne muttered a quiet, “Oh dear.”

“Oh dear?” Kate asked her anxiously. “Why ‘oh dear, Daphne?’”

“You’ll see,” Colin said vaguely through his laugh. “Oh, this will be good fun.”

Simon looked as confused as she did, so Kate decided it really must have been a Bridgerton thing.

Daphne took a swing that was decidedly better than Kate could have ever produced, and they were back to the beginning of their sequence. 

“Bridgerton rules say that you must follow your ball, Miss Sheffield,” Colin told her as he whisked by. He had that manic look on his face, the same he had when Kate took the mallet of death. “I think you’ll find your ball next to that of my dear brother.”

Kate stalked over to her ball, finding Anthony already there leaning on a tree and smiling that same competitive smile his siblings seemed to have. Vaguely, she wondered if his father must have had the same look once upon a time. Kate could not imagine that look on Violet Bridgerton’s face.

“Fine weather for a game of Pall Mall, is it not, Kate?” Anthony asked in a casual tone. His face, though, looked devious.

“What are you going to do to me?” Kate asked anxiously. Next to her, the viscount let out a loud laugh.

“Oh, what am I not going to do to you, my dear Miss Sheffield?”he answered gleefully. Kate was a little afraid of the look on his face. 

“Anthony! Take your bloody turn!” Colin shouted from his place by his ball across the field. 

Kate watched as Anthony lowered his pink mallet. His foot looked suspiciously close to his ball from where she was standing, and before he hit it, he looked up at her with a winning grin and said, “Hopefully we’ll see you again before the game ends, Miss Sheffield,” with a wink before whacking his ball solidly. Anthony’s ball did not move though; Kate’s did. He had used his foot to hold his own ball in place, using the momentum to hit Kate’s ball down the hill and, if her ears were correct, into a shrub. 

“You… you…” Kate could not even come up with a word to describe the anger she felt with Anthony’s game play. She knew that he would not go easy on her, obviously, but Kate expected a little more mercy on her first attempt at Pall Mall. Especially from Anthony of all people!

“Ah, Kate, play dictates you follow your ball,” he told her with a charming smile. “I’ll see you if you ever catch up.”

-

Half an hour later, Kate was two wickets behind the next to last player and absolutely fuming. Like the Bridgertons she was playing with, Kate was ridiculously competitive. She was not a fan of losing, and the fact that she was only because Anthony knocked her out of the game before she truly got the chance irritated her to no end. She would have done the same if she got the opportunity, of course, but she still did not enjoy it. 

While waiting for her turn, Kate had taken to shoving her boots deep into the soil, pushing up small clumps of grass and leaving them scattered everywhere. She was sure that Lady Bridgerton would be most displeased with the state of her yard, but Kate was willing to take any opportunity she could to get a bit of revenge against Anthony.

“Incoming!” Colin yelled while Kate was in the midst of pushing up another clump of grass. She looked up to see a pink ball flying toward her and yelped as she moved out of the way, narrowly avoiding missing a toe. 

Anthony’s ball rolled to a stop near Kate’s own, and Kate saw her opportunity. The man in question was currently stomping his way over to her, looking as if he had swallowed a thundercloud.

“I see your fortune has turned, my lord,” Kate said with as much womanly demureness as she could manage past her wide smile. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Anthony warned as he saw the manic look in her eye. “If you take your own turn, I’m sure you could still manage second or third.”

Kate looked over at the rest of his family, staring back at her with anxious, excited eyes. Within hitting distance, she saw the lake. With enough power, she could likely push Anthony’s ball into the lake, ending his chances of ever succeeding in the game.

She would sink her own chances, as well, but Kate thought she could deal with that, so long as Anthony lost securely.

“Don’t look so glum, my lord,” she told him, trying to copy his charming grin. “I’m sure you could still manage second or third.” With that, Kate pulled back her mallet and hit her own ball, which sailed into Anthony’s and pushed it further, further, further down the field until it finally stopped.

Into the lake.

Anthony’s ball landed in the water with a solid plop . Before she really thought about it, Kate let out a gleeful yell. 

“I win! I win!” she shouted as the rest of his family came walking over. “Oh, this feels so sweet!”

“You didn’t win,” Anthony told her rather petulantly, rather like a small child. “You just made sure I lost .”

“This sure feels like winning!” she exclaimed, jumping in a circle. “Nothing really feels better. This is the best fun I’ve had in a long time.”

Despite his anger, Anthony smiled brightly at Kate’s excitement. Her joy was contagious, and although he was rather miffed at losing so solidly, he found himself able to admire exactly how she beat him. He would have done the same.

“Well,” Simon started, looking between the two, “I think it would be rather anticlimatic to continue playing now that Anthony has lost so solidly.”

“I move that we end the game and proclaim Miss Sheffield our winner,” Colin suggested, turning his smile onto Kate. “Is anyone opposed?”

No one argued, although Anthony looked decidedly unhappy.

“Great! Then you are our winner, Miss Sheffield, and that makes you, Anthony, our loser. Shall we begin picking up?” With that, Colin began wandering off toward the wickets. Daphne and Simon followed him, but Anthony went in the opposite direction, toward the lake. Kate presumed he meant to go look for his ball, so she walked back to the storage shed in search of a blanket for when he inevitably got wet. Though it was late April, there was a chill in the air, and the last thing Kate wanted was for Anthony to fall ill because he retrieved a ball that she hit into the lake. 

When she returned to the lake, Kate found Anthony standing on its banks, his hands on his hips and a grim expression on his face. “Is it very deep?” she asked as she approached. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

Anthony turned toward her. His expression changed quickly at the sight of her, breaking into a small smile. “You’re not,” he answered. “The ball isn’t too deep, but I’m going to have to reach in to get it. I really wasn’t looking forward to getting wet.”

“I brought you a blanket,” Kate offered. “I’m not sorry about causing you to lose, but I am sorry about you having to retrieve the ball.” She held it in his direction. 

“Thank you,” Anthony answered, with a surprised look on his face. “I would have done the same thing if given the opportunity. In fact, I have. We Bridgertons are a nasty competitive sort. I once hit the red ball into the middle of the lake. We still haven’t retrieved it. Daphne has never forgiven me for that one.” 

Kate let out a loud laugh at Anthony’s admission. With a smile, he turned from her and began rolling up his sleeves to scoop the ball out of the water. Once that was finished, Kate traded the blanket for the ball, and the couple began their slow walk back to the shed to return everything. Anthony’s family had scattered, presumably to return back to the house as the sky was beginning to turn dark. Rain, she thought. It was going to be a fun night.

“Anthony,” she said suddenly, catching his arm in hers. “A few days ago, you told me to take the time while we were here to think about what a life together would look like…” Kate trailed off, not exactly sure how to put her feelings into words.

Truly, Kate really did not even need to think about it. The Bridgertons were wonderful, boisterious and welcoming. Kate loved the afternoons she spent with Hyacinth and Gregory, the talks she had with Eloise, and the charming conversations she had with Benedict and Colin. Kate felt valued when she spent time with Anthony’s family. Quietly, she thought that she could see herself here for the rest of her life. 

Late at night, Kate had been thinking about a life with Anthony. She thought about the magic and love that he had brought into her life in just a short few weeks. Under his careful gaze, Kate felt loved and valued. She felt attended to in a way that no one had ever made her feel before. With Anthony, Kate knew that she would never want anything or anyone else. His smiles made her world stop. Kate wanted to learn everything about him and spend the rest of her life learning all the ways he would change, too.

Distinctly, Kate knew that she had abandoned her original pragmatic approach to marriage. Sure, Anthony could check every box she had contrived for a husband to meet.

But Anthony Bridgerton was not for Kate’s family. He was for her.

“Yes?” Anthony answered her anxiously after she had trailed off. “Kate?”

“I can,” she said at almost a whisper. “I can picture it. Us. Me, with your family, chasing Gregory and Hyacinth through the halls. I can picture tea with your mother and dinners with your brothers. I can picture walks with Eloise and Francesca. I can picture sunny afternoons and cool evenings with you.” Kate tried to keep her admission short.

She wanted Anthony, who was so passionate about his family, to know that she could care for them. Kate wanted him to know that she could care for him, too, but she knew that this was not the moment to admit her feelings. She would save that for some quiet moment, when she could whisper her love without worrying about an eavesdropper.

Drawing her eyes back to his, Kate murmured with her most devious expression, “I suppose I could stand being married to you, as well. Perhaps that wouldn’t be too bad.”

Anthony let his breath out in a whoosh. “Oh, Kate,” he said softly. His arm left hers and instead twinned around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “I’m so glad. I’ve been watching you with my family for days, and it’s just wonderful seeing you.” Leaning down toward her ear, he whispered, “You will make a wonderful wife. A wonderful viscountess.”

“Is that your proposal, my lord?” Kate asked him, laughing. “Not very romantic, I must say.”

At the word romantic, Anthony made a strange face, but the expression was gone before Kate could analyze it. “Not yet,” he assured. “Honestly, I’m still searching our vaults for the perfect ring. I want everything to be perfect. You deserve that much, Kate.” Anthony’s voice was full of promises, an earnest look on his face.

“Oh, Anthony,” Kate answered with a sigh. “I don’t need perfect, really. I just want you.”

His face broke out into a giant, boyish grin. Anthony’s expression was so full of emotion that Kate was rendered speechless. He looked beautiful as he gazed on her with such a happy expression. She found that she would not mind always being the cause of that expression.

“Good,” he whispered, his head moving a bit closer to hers. “Can I kiss you, Kate?”

Kate nodded, and Anthony moved his head closer until his lips rested on hers, for just a second.

The world stopped, and Kate knew her life would never be the same. She was not very sure that she minded.

Chapter Text

The afternoon of the Pall Mall game, just when Kate thought that perhaps she could get a break from the Bridgertons and escape into her own room, Benedict pulled her away from the other guests and into his studio at the far end of Aubrey Hall. Though his mother had insisted on a proper chaperone for the two of them, the room was blissfully empty of other people.

Benedict noticed Kate looking around and grinned. “Have you ever been in a proper studio? My apologies, I am a bit messy. I think it helps with the flow, though.” 

His studio was more than a bit messy, Kate thought. Canvases and tarps littered nearly every surface. Paint was strone all over the room, various tubes and splotches alike covered the surfaces of the tarps. Finished works were pushed up against the walls; Kate thought it was a bit odd that they hid here, in his studio, instead of being displayed anywhere in the home.

“May I look at some of your finished works?” Kate asked him, trying to be polite and patient despite her excitement. 

“Of course,” Benedict agreed. “You can look through those while I try to find some free canvases and watercolors.” He wandered off in the opposite direction, and Kate walked over to the works against the wall and crouched in front of them.

Most of Benedict’s works were unfinished landscapes, full of bright colors. He painted flowers and woods, with the sun or moon shining in the background. They made Kate feel a kind of nostalgia for the places, even though she was not really sure where she was even feeling nostalgic for. Benedict seemed to have a touch, though, for portraying his own feelings through his art.

“Aha!” The man said from across the room, producing two medium sized canvases from under a tarp. “I thought I had you there.”

But Kate was distracted by the final painting of the set, hiding behind the rest of the landscapes. It was nowhere near completed, mostly just in the beginning stages of outlines and coloring. When she saw it, Kate could not imagine why Benedict had abandoned it and hidden it away.

By the number of figures, it was quite obviously his family. Only three of the figures were colored, while the rest were merely outlines with their names written lightly in pencil over them, as if Benedict could forget who was meant to be who. Two of the figures stood together, embracing each other at the head of the line. The last was near the end, standing tall and proud with hands on the shoulders of the figures labelled “Hyacinth” and “Gregory.” Kate knew immediately that that must be Anthony, although his figure was not completed enough that she should properly tell. The two embracing each other, Kate figured, must have been the former Lord and Lady Bridgerton, Edmund and Violet. They were the closest to completion, and their smiles were so bright Kate could feel their love through the painting.

“Oh,” Benedict whispered from behind her. Kate turned to find him standing at her shoulder with a shocked look on his face. He held a set of watercolors limply in his left hand. “I forgot that was there.”

“Why did you never finish it?” Kate asked softly, turning toward him. “It seems too beautiful to be hiding away behind all these other completed works.”

“For a while, it was too painful,” Benedict admitted softly. “I started this a few years ago because I wanted my mother to have a picture of all of us together. My father died before Hyacinth was born,” he added, looking at her with sad eyes. “There are no paintings of all ten of us. I wanted something that could show that. But I never felt like I was getting Father right, and it felt stupid to look at other portraits of him when I knew him for so long. I should be able to remember my father’s face without needing a reference. It was frustrating, and eventually it just got too painful to try to finish it. I had forgotten about it, honestly.” Benedict looked thoughtful as he reached toward the painting, running his thumb over his parents’ faces.

“I can’t remember every part of my father’s face, either,” Kate admitted in the same quiet tone Benedict had used. “He passed five years ago, and I dread every day that comes that I can’t remember exactly how he wrinkled his eyebrows or the sound of his laugh. But that’s life, I suppose.” She sighed. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing to need a reference, if you want to paint him. I know it isn’t very comforting, but our memories are fickle. Things are lost. I think you should use any methods you can, if you want to capture him.”

“Thank you, Kate,” Benedict told her with a small smile on his face. “It’s been so many years since we lost him. I miss him every day.”

“I understand. I miss my father, too.”

Benedict laughed rather sadly, then sighed. “Well, that was a bummer. Maybe I will finish this painting, Kate. Not now, though. Now, I think we should choose something to paint. I’d like to try my hand at watercolors. What do you suggest we do?”

“I think I would like to paint the gardens,” she suggested, looking out toward the doors that looked like they opened directly into it. Benedict’s study was conveniently located on the first floor, with large windows and doors. Kate, though not the most frequent painter, rather wished she could stay here just so she would always have the opportunity to paint in this room.

“That sounds brilliant,” Benedict agreed. “I’ll open the doors and we can drag the easels out onto the patio. Is there anything in particular you want to paint, or will this view suffice?”

“This is good,” she replied. “Any part of this garden seems to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Your mother really seems to have a touch.”

He snorted while pulling one of the easels out the door. “Our gardener, more like,” he told her. “My mother hasn’t worked these gardens in years. Not since we lived here full time. We only come to Aubrey Hall for parties these days.” Benedict looked a bit wistful as he talked about his home. “Before my father died, this was our primary residence. We would go to London for part of the season, and my father attended some Parlimentary sessions when it pleased him, but we lived in the country until I was sixteen.”

“Do you miss it?” Kate asked him softly. 

“Of course,” he told her. “I’m a country boy at heart. I enjoy many of the comforts London provides, of course, but I could lead a pleasing life in the country if I desired.” And, with a pointed look in her direction, “My brother is like that, too. Though he has many concerns in London, he prefers being here with his family.”

Something in Kate warmed at his words, but she did not answer Benedict on that topic. Instead, she looked out toward the gardens and settled on the small stool he had also pulled out for her. “Well,” she said, arranging her skirts and looking at Benedict. “Shall we begin then?”

Together, Kate and Benedict wasted away the afternoon painting the garden in front of them. Being no botanical enthusiast, Kate was unsure what the flowers were called, but they were pretty, and she found it to be an enjoyable landscape to paint. She and Benedict conversed a bit, but they mostly painted in a companionable silence.

Kate enjoyed her afternoon away from the rest of the ton . Benedict was fantastic company, and she loved his quiet jokes and quick wit. She could picture herself here, spending more time with him, laughing at the antics of their family.

Their family. The Bridgertons.

Steadily, Kate was becoming more comfortable with Anthony’s attention. Now, after their conversation earlier than morning, she felt more sure in his intentions toward her. Anthony intended to marry her, to carve a place for her in his life where there previously was not one. Though he had not voiced it, he seemed to feel some level of affection for her, if that kiss was anything to go by.

Oh, the kiss.

Kate was not so green that she had never been kissed, despite what society thought about women who experienced any level of physical affection before marriage. At one and twenty, there had been a stable boy or two in Somerset whose eye she had caught. And if she kissed them just to know what it felt like, no one but her and them truly knew.

Anthony’s kiss, though, was compltely different.

The world has Kate knew it ended the second he pressed his lips to hers. It was a rather chaste kiss, just a press of his lips against hers for a moment, but the heat of Anthony was overwhelming. His hands cradled her as if she was the most precious thing on the earth, and his lips felt as if they consumed her, in that moment.

Kate thought she would be pleased to live in that moment for the rest of her life. 

Through that moment, she knew that Anthony’s intentions were true. He was not just courting her for the sake of it, but he intended to marry her. He would make her happy, Kate was sure of it. Though she was not sure of his exact feelings, Anthony felt some warmness toward her. His actions were an obvious indicator. 

She was not worried that he would not propose. It was only a matter of when. Though she did feel some anxiety, Kate also felt a warmth in her heart when she thought of Anthony.

Her feelings were unexpected but not exactly unwelcome.

-

The night found Anthony seated at the head of their long formal dining table, surrounded by the crowd of the ton . Though several of his siblings sat at his sides, Anthony felt a bit alone. Thus far, he had been able to keep most of his family time and viscountly duties separate; at dinner parties such as this, keeping the two distant was almost impossible. He did not have the luxury to appear just as Anthony to the crowd of people seated down the table. He needed to be Viscount Bridgerton, in all his cold and rarely forgiving glory, to keep his family’s reputation stain-free. 

Anthony did not get to gaze on his family with his usual level of affection at their antics. He could not appear lighthearted and soft. He could not even escourt Kate Sheffield into dinner as he had so desired to. Rather, he was stuck with some dowager marquess, who thankfully was seated far enough down the table that he at least did not have to talk to her.

Seating arrangements at these kinds of things were always so dreadful. Ordinarily, Anthony did not mind it. Though his mother could be described as obsessed when it came to the love and marriage lives of her children, she was still bound by the rules of polite society when it came to dinners of this kind. Guests were seated mostly by rank, although the Bridgertons, except Anthony and Violet themselves, who sat at either end of the extensive table, often bunched together to sit by their family. At his sides, Anthony had Benedict and Colin. Daphne and Eloise, whom Violet was allowing to attend various functions despite her not yet being out, sat at the opposite side by their mother. Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth, as per the arrangements of polite society, were taking dinner in the nursery, although Anthony desperately wished they could be here for him to speak to.

As long as he had his brothers surrounding him, instead of the ever-searching season’s debutantes (as his mother would like to arrange the seating), Anthony was normally content to sit and observe the antics of the ton at these dinners. Now, though, he was a bit peeved. Kate sat midway down the table, far enough that Anthony could barely spot her amongst the heads of all the other people. On one side, Edwina sat happily, chatting with Kate each time she turned her head. At Kate’s other side, though, sat one cleverly placed Thomas Dorset.

Damn, Anthony was really going to have to do something about that pest sooner rather than later.

Not, to say, that Anthony was necessarily worried about Dorset posing any sort of issue. He knew that he was secure in Kate’s affections. Hell, she had practically admitted to wanting to be his wife earlier that very day! They had kissed! Anthony was not worried that the doctor would find some way to persuade Kate to marry him instead. Even past all the emotional reasons, Anthony knew that Kate had considered all the logical reasons why he was a great catch, too. Kate was nothing if not logical.

Anthony was a bit jealous, though.

He was not too proud to admit that. Kate Sheffield was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he could not blame others for finally seeming to notice it. Anthony just wished that she were sat a bit closer to him, so that she could turn her brilliant smile onto him instead of Thomas Dorset. She was smiling too much at Dorset.

Perhaps Anthony should just go ahead and propose, right this instant. He could imagine it now, pushing his chair back with a force big enough to knock it backwards. He would charge down the length of the table and pull Kate to her feet. Despite the gasps of the ton around him, Anthony would drop to his knee and pull out the ring that had taken up residence in the pocket of his jacket. Removing her glove would be bit risque, but he might even do that anyway just to feel the heat of her hand against his. Anthony was never one for poetic words, much rather preferring to make good with his actions, but perhaps he could spare some for Kate. He would make grand promises about providing for her, keeping her happy. Kate would want for nothing as his wife. Anthony would not promise love, despite the way his stomach flipped when he thought about denying her that. That was another conversation they needed to have, but it was the one that Anthony was justifiably (in his mind) putting off. 

All this he was picturing, but he remained firmly in his seat. 

If Anthony’s brothers noticed his slightly stormy mood, they did not mention it. Rather, they spoke quietly together, trying to look constantly busy so as not to attract the attention of the society mothers around them. Anthony’s eyes rarely left Kate throughout the extensive meal, watching how she interacted with her family and those around her. Mostly, Kate gave a polite smile to those who were not her family. Speaking to her sister, though, she glowed. 

Not for the first time, Anthony thought she would make the most wonderful viscountess. 

Kate would be an even better wife, to be sure. She was kind, loving, and attentive. Her spirit was fiery, and Anthony knew that a life with her would not be boring. She would keep him on his toes constantly, and he knew their life would be a happy one. For the first time, Anthony could almost see a future outside his duties to his work and family. He could see a home filled with a happy wife, happy children, and perhaps even a bit of love.

Anthony had promised himself that he would not fall in love with his wife. That part was a bit pesky, that. 

-

After dinner, after the ladies departed to the sitting room and the men to the smoking room, and after Lady Bridgerton insisted everyone retire early in order to rest fully for the ball the next day, Kate lay in her bed, unable to sleep.

It was raining. Kate hated the rain. More significantly, she hated storms, which she was sure this rain would turn into, considering how dark the skies had looked before dinner. It was just her luck that it would storm while she was away in the country, unable to escape the constant eyes of the ton . Thankfully, they held off until after dinner. 

Now, though, Kate was not sure what to do. She had been lying in her bed for hours, listening to the soft rain and attempting to sleep. She tried counting sheep, she tried conjugating Latin verbs, she even imagined that Nigel Berbrooke was next to her, muttering about something or another. Nigel was dreadfully boring, and Kate was sure that he could put her to sleep anytime. 

Nothing had worked.

Kate pushed herself up in the bed and huffed. This was not working. The rain was only getting louder, and she wanted to be asleep before the storm started. Storms rarely woke her, it seemed; she just needed to be asleep when it fully began. 

She remembered Anthony’s brief tour of the house the day before. They had passed an extensive library not too far from the family wing; Kate was sure she could find it again. Perhaps in there, she could find something that would put her to sleep. Surely in such a large library there had to be at least one boring book.

Having made her decision, Kate pushed herself off the bed and pulled on her night robe, tying it loosely around her. She grabbed the candle off her nighstand, cold from hours of disuse and closed her bedroom door quietly behind her. Kate tried to move through the hallways quickly, once she had lit her candle. Because she was in the family wing, she did not worry so much about finding a member of the ton wandering from their own bed into someone else’s, but that did not mean she wanted to be the one caught.

Kate found the library quickly. It was not an overly large room, but it was a room clearly owned by someone who loved books. The shelves covered three walls from floor to ceiling, and every inch of every surface was packed with books. This was the kind of library she thought the Bridgertons would have. With so many members, she figured the shelves were packed with many different interests, something for each child. She smiled softly as she pulled the door nearly closed, leaving a crack to prevent any noise that would alert wanderers of her presence.

Kate set her candle down on a table in front of the windows, looking out at the rain. It was coming down harder now, and the wind was beginning to pick up. She figured she did not have much longer until the rain became a full on storm, but distantly Kate hoped that it would hold out for her. She had had good luck here at Aubrey Hall. Surely fate could keep the storm at bay for her, just for a little while.

Leaving the windows, Kate moved toward the shelves on the opposite side of the room. They seemed to be arranged according to topic, if the entire row Kate found dedicated to philosophy was anything to go by. She grimaced at the idea of philosophy. Edwina loved it, but if Kate read that, she would be up all night with a splintering headache.

Decidedly not that, then.

Botany, Kate decided, would be the best option. Violet Bridgerton was a keen gardener, and Eloise seemed to be an avid learner, so she figured there must be a section on botany somewhere. She loved flowers, but the science behind them seemed to be incredibly dry. That would put her to sleep in no time, Kate was sure. 

She moved along the shelves, trying to search for any titles that sounded botany related. The rain picked up again, and the wind was howling and beating against the windows. Kate was tense as she searched, trying to speed up her eyes as they looked along the shelves. She knew she was running out of time. It would probably be better for her to return to her room now, to suffer the inevitable storm in a decidedly less private setting, but Kate had committed to this idea. At this point, she was more afraid to leave.

Her hand landed on a title, and she nearly yanked it off the shelf in her desperation to absorb herself in it. Kate moved back to the table, grabbing up her candle and readying herself to flee from the room. 

Lightning flashed, and Kate scrambled to set the candle back down without turning it over. She pulled open the book, ready to lose herself in whatever section her eyes landed on first.

Then the thunder crashed, and Kate knew she was done for.

-

Anthony, unlike most of his family, tended to take advantage of the nights when their guests decided to turn in early. As far as he knew, the other Bridgertons had turned in early as well, taking their mother’s advice to sleep well in preparation for the ball the next night. Anthony, though, stayed awake in his study, sifting through ledgers and crop reports like the dutiful land manager he was. His eyes ached from the dim light and he could feel the beginnings of a headache, but Anthony’s mind was wide awake, and he knew it would be another sleepless night, no matter what he did. 

The storm raged on against the windows behind him, and Anthony sighed happily. He loved electrical storms. Something about the huge crashes of thunder and bright flashes of lightning made him feel rather small, and he liked being reminded that he did not need to, and in fact could not , control everything. They were pleasant moments indeed.

Anthony sighed again in his seat and finally stood and stretched. He had been staring at his ledgers for hours, and though he knew sleep was not in his future, stretching his legs may help with the impending headache. He would do a quick lap, he decided, just down the hallway and back. Something to distract him a bit from the numbers swimming through his head.

Quietly, Anthony pushed the door to study open and crept out into the hallway. He desperately hoped that he would not come across any members of the ton room-swapping in his brisk walk. Though he truly did not care for gossip, impropriety was not something he could in good conscience ignore in his own household. Anthony was not sure exactly what he would do if he found someone, but he knew it could not be politely ignored.

Anthony paced down the hallway as quickly as he possibly could, forgetting the idea of a leisurely walk to take his mind off things. Suddenly, all he wanted was to return to his study.

In his haste, Anthony almost did not notice the small flicker of light from the cracked library door. He paused directly in front of it, frowning. Who had left a candle burning in the library? Though it was raining, a flame in the library would only take a moment to catch and pose a problem to the entire estate.

Angrily, he pushed open the door to the library. The offending flame was sitting across the room on a table by the window in the form of a half-burned candle. Anthony glanced around the room as he crossed it, trying to figure out if a person was manning the flame or was simply forgetful. After he saw no one, Anthony blew out the candle with a rather menacing huff and began to leave the room, satisfied that his work was done.

A flicker of lightning burst through the room, and before he could leave, Anthony heard a small moan. He whipped back around, searching for the person. Whoever had made the noise sounded in pain, and Anthony could not leave them there if they were in pain. 

“Is there someone in here?” he asked in a loud voice, determined to be heard over the storm.

Thunder boomed, and he heard a loud whimper. Anthony glanced around the room a bit frantically, determined to find whoever was so distressed. Finally, he located the source of the noise.

It was Kate, hiding under the table that he found the candle on. She sat on the floor with her arms encircling her knees, trying to make herself as small as possible. She pressed her eye sockets deeply into her knees; Anthony realized she was trying to block out the light from the storm. Desperately, he wished that they had curtains in the library. His mother had always insisted that there was no need for them here, and he despised that thought suddenly.

Before Anthony really had any idea what he was doing, he ducked under the table and glued himself to Kate’s side. He wrapped both of his arms around her, nearly pulling Kate into his lap with the force of his tug. “Oh, Kate,” he whispered. “Why are you alone?”

She was afraid of the storm, he realized. As the wind raged behind them and the thunder boomed, Kate flinched and curled into herself even more. In front of the windows, everything seemed louder, more pronounced. This was the worst place in the house to weather a storm, Anthony knew, and it was the place Kate managed to get herself stuck.

“Shhh,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ve got you, Kate. Nothing will happen as long as I am here. I’ll protect you.” He tried to keep his voice soft, remembering the words his mother would tell her children softly when they were distressed. For some reason, they did not feel like enough. The words felt hollow. Anthony wanted to run outside and scream at the sky until the storm finally ceased, if only to make Kate feel better.

Well, that was silly.

Slowly, as the storm began to move further away, Kate’s whimpers and moans became less frequent. For that, Anthony was thankful. Each noise that came from her mouth was like a knife in his heart, since he was powerless to stop it. 

“Open your eyes for me, Kate,” he whispered, taking her hands off her knees and into his own hands. They were freezing, and Anthony brought them to his lips in an attempt to warm them up. “If you open your eyes, you will know you are safe. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He placed delicate kisses over the backs of her hands, hoping eventually that she would recognize his presence and open her eyes. 

“Open your eyes, darling,” Anthony urged her quietly once more. Steadily, as the electrical storm moved further away, Kate seemed to come back to herself.

For the first time that night, her hand flexed in his. Her head turned toward Anthony, but her eyes stayed closed as she let out another sigh. Anthony whispered her name another time, and blissfully, finally, her eyes began to blink open. 

“Anthony?” Kate whispered softly as she finally seemed to come back to herself. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Kate,” he replied in a thankful tone. “I saw a light in the library. I thought someone had forgotten a candle.”

“The storm,” she said with a grimace. Then, squeezing his hand and looking into his eyes, “I really don’t like storms.”

Despite himself, Anthony let out a small laugh. “I figured,” he answered her. “Why are you alone if you’re so afraid? Surely Mary or Edwina would be more than willing to comfort you.”

Kate shook her head. “They do not know. I’ve always been afraid of storms, and I let Mary comfort me when I was younger. I let her believe I grew out of it, though.”

“Why?” he asked with shock in his voice.

She shrugged. “I didn’t want them to worry. Surely you can understand that.” 

As sad as it was, Anthony could understand. He hid his own fears from his family well enough, not wanting them to worry about the mess that he was. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Kate said suddenly, shifting nervously. “I hope that doesn’t scare you off, my lord.” She tried to joke, but the light in her eyes was anxious, as if she really believed that he could be swayed from marrying her.

“I’m not sorry,” Anthony answered in a strong tone. “I’m thankful that I got to be here for you, like this. You shouldn’t be alone in your fears, Kate. I’ll always be here for you.”

Anthony tried not to think too deeply into his words. For one, he was a hypocrite; how could he tell Kate that she should not be alone in her fears when he refused to be anything but alone in his? And he was a liar: Anthony knew he would not always be there for her. He could not be.

Suddenly, he felt his own mortality more acutely than ever. It was almost enough to bring him to tears.

“We should probably move, now that the storm has passed,” Kate suggested, shifting a bit in her place under the table. Instead of agreeing, though, Anthony moved to reposition them. He shifted them to where they were leaning against the windows, their legs splayed out in front of them. Kate was still firmly in Anthony’s arms, her hands cradled in his and her head resting on his shoulder.

“Not right now,” he whispered into the quiet air. “Just let me hold you for a moment. Then we can go back to real life.”

“Alright,” Kate answered just as softly. “A moment of peace.”

As the rain pattered quietly behind them, Anthony and Kate breathed together into the night air of Aubrey Hall. Quietly, their hearts tied themselves together, bit by bit, and it was enough.

Chapter Text

The morning after the storm was a clear spring day. The air was cool and crisp, and dew covered every surface of Lady Bridgerton’s garden. The ton had split into two groups early that morning, those who thought the weather was pleasant enough to go outside, and those who shunned the wet ground and cool air. Kate, wary of the attentions of the gossips of the house, stayed firmly planted in the first group. Though many decided to venture into town to see what troubles they could get into there, Kate wandered into the vast gardens of Aubrey Hall, looking to take her mind off the night before and hopefully find some peace.

For the first time, Kate did not feel utterly shaken by the storm the night before. Normally, she woke up the morning after a electric storm feeling jittery and out of place; her skin often felt like it was too small around her, and her hair stood on end almost constantly. It was dreadful. 

This morning, though, Kate felt… normal. She certainly felt exhausted; after her time with Anthony in the library, she had forced herself back to her room but had not been able to sleep. Rather, she laid awake thinking about exactly how his arms felt wrapped around her and how safe she felt in his presence. It was jarring and unexpected but not entirely unwelcome.

Aside from her initial panic and the first few minutes she spent alone, Kate felt safe during the storm. She felt protected. She did not feel like her life was going to end with each crack of thunder, like she normally did, which was certainly an improvement.

While the storm moved farther and farther from Aubrey Hall, Kate and Anthony had sat under the table in the library, wrapped in each other’s arms. Neither bothered to speak, instead feeling content to just bask in each other’s presence and wait until they were forced to move. Kate had no idea when they finally decided to get up; it could have been days after Anthony initially found her for all she knew. She walked back to her room in a daze, missing the warmth of Anthony’s arms. It was dizzying, how much she enjoyed it.

Distantly, Kate understood why society tried so hard to keep debutantes from experiencing any sort of physical intimacy before marriage. It was addicting, and she really could not imagine going without it ever again. 

Finally, Kate found a bench that was only slightly damp, across from Lady Bridgerton’s famous Dutch tulips, and sat down. Her posture was likely a little lackluster, but it was all she could do to not lay down. Kate was exhausted, and she really just wanted a moment (or ten) to herself before she was forced to return to the house and face the scrunity of the ton , wondering if (when) the viscount planned to propose.

It was annoying, that.

So Kate allowed herself a moment to sit on the bench, staring out at flowers and attempting to turn her mind off. Of course, that was the very moment she heard footsteps approaching behind her.

“Kate,” a voice said from behind her before she had the chance to turn. Anthony was setting a brisk pace toward her, with a bright smile on his face. He looked a bit out of breath as he walked, which made Kate smile. She noticed that his gloves were missing.

“Did you run here, my lord?” she asked him, undoubtedly looking pleased herself. Anthony looked a bit sheepish.

“Not run, persay,” he admitted. “I saw you from my study. I just wanted to inquire after you, after the storm. I know that it was passing as we left the library last night, but I needed to know that you were alright.” After a moment, Anthony took the spot next to her and, after a glance arond the garden, he grasped her hand in his.

“I’m touched,” Kate told him with a bright smile. “I don’t believe anyone has ever been so concerned with my well being. I’m alright, my lord, if not a bit exhausted. I didn’t sleep much after I returned.”

“I didn’t either,” Anthony replied quietly. He did not offer any more information, only grasping her hand a bit tighter than he had before. 

“What are the plans for today, Anthony?” she asked softly in an attempt to bring Anthony’s attention back to her. He had gotten a distracted, far off look in his eye, and his solemness bothered her. While she valued and respected every part of him, Kate did not much like the solemn and quiet viscount. She much preferred Anthony, with the charming smile and twinkle in his eye. The Anthony who laughed with his siblings and poked fun at her as often as possible. 

“I have a tenant or two I need to visit before the ball tonight,” he murmured, still looking distracted. “I believe my mother may have an activity or two planned for the ladies, but I suspect you could hide in the drawing room with Eloise if you so felt like it. I could speak to my mother.”

“There’s no need,” she promised him. “Although I would like to spend more time with Hyacinth and-”

“Kate,” Anthony whispered suddenly. His eyes, formerly distant and unattentive, were urgent and hard. “Don’t move.”

“What?” Kate asked, moving immediately. She tried to take her hand out of his as she moved, but Anthony grasped it tighter and placed his other hand on her shoulder, attempting to hold her still.

“Don’t move!” he nearly yelled, clutching her tightly. “Listen to me. We are going to sit here very quietly for a moment, and then we are going to get up and move slowly out of the garden. You need to follow my instructions, Kate, please.” Anger and desperation made its way into Anthony’s tone and wild eyes, and Kate suddenly had the idea that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

“Anthony, I’m not sure I understand,” she told him gently. With the way his hands held her, she could not move, but she could turn her head. Slowly, her eyes followed to where Anthony was looking, and she found a small bee hovering only an inch above her shoulder. Most likely, it smelled her perfume. Bees always seemed to like her lily perfume. “Oh, Anthony,” she said thankfully. “It’s just a bee. You startled me.”

“It isn’t just a bee!” Anthony insisted. His hands clutched her even tighter and his eyes became those of a mad man. Kate was a little more than scared. “Don’t move. We’ll just get up and walk slowly over there to get away from it.”

But, of course, Kate did move. She yanked herself away, determined to get out of his arms. She was not truly afraid of Anthony, but he had become a man possessed, and she did not like the look in his eyes. As she jerked out of his grasp, though, her hand must have flown back and hit the small bee, because it buzzed angrily in her ear and flew directly to her chest, stinging her.

“Ow! Damn,” Kate said, letting out a rather unladylike curse. “Oh great. Now I need to go inside to get a poultice, and it’s going to ruin this dress.” She poked a bit at the spot, unsurprised to see it had already turned into a small welt. Kate sighe and looked back up at Anthony, who had gone white as a sheet.

“My God,” he whispered. “No, no, no, Kate.”

“Anthony,” Kate said softly, grasping at his shoulder. “I’m alright. It’s just a bee sting. I’m unharmed.”

But Anthony’s mind was evidently somewhere else, for he seemed not to hear her. Instead, his hand flew to the neck of her gown and grasped at the bodice, pulling it down until he could get a good look at the sting.

“Anthony!” she nearly yelled, trying to pull his hand from her dress. He was unyielding in his panic, though, and his hand did not budge. “What are you doing?”

“I need to massage the venom out,” he explained. Without much pretense, one of his hands cupped underneath her breast and the other began to massage at the sting.

Kate let out a very unladylike yelp as he began his minstrations. “There is no venom!” she hissed. Her hand found its way into her hair, trying to massage his head and calm him down. Anthony’s panic was not just a simple fear; his attitude was something different completely, a true fear that Kate had never really seen before. Anthony looked like he was not even on the same planet, and he was determined that something bad was happening to Kate. “It was just a bee sting, Anthony. Please, I’m unharmed. Come back to me.” 

“There has to be venom,” he insisted, not even looking up as he continued to poke and prod at the sting on her chest. “Something is killing you.”

“Killing me?” Kate gasped. “Darling, nothing is-”

But she was cut off as Anthony sat up and decided to change the course of action. “I don’t think I got it all,” he said with a determined look on his face. “I’m going to have to suck it out.”

“ Suck it out ?” Her voice was so much closer to a yell than she really preferred in such a public place, but Anthony did not seem to hear her protests as he pulled her bodice down to a truly indecent place, latched his lips onto the sting, and began to suck.

Kate’s head thucked solidly against the bench behind her. Anthony obviously was unwell. Something about this whole experience had triggered a memory far within his brain, and he was helpless to do anything other than act out whatever he needed to do. Her hand stayed in his hair, massaging his head and hoping that he could come to his senses sooner rather than later. 

Just as Kate’s eyes closed and she decided that she would just wait Anthony out, she heard a gasp from directly in front of her. Standing at the entrance to the garden was the absolute worst collection of people Kate could ever open to see: Mary, Lady Bridgerton, and Mrs. Featherington stood together, arms clasped around each other with various looks of shock covering their faces.

Kate, figuring this moment could not get that much worse, let out a very unladylike curse. “Anthony,” she urged, pulling at his hair. “ Anthony !”

“It’s not out,” he protested, raising his head. Anthony’s eyes were on fire as he finally met Kate’s, and she was shocked at the fierceness in them.

“Anthony, our mothers!” she whispered urgently. Using the hand that was in his hair, she pushed his head in the opposite direction, toward the three women who were staring at them.

Finally, Violet’s words seemed to come back to her. “Anthony Bridgerton!” she admonished in a shrill but quiet voice. “What are you doing!”

“It was a bee!” Kate protested before Anthony could say anything. She pushed him off of her, mindful of whatever kind of shock he must be feeling, and yanked her bodice back up to an acceptable place. “I was stung by a bee!”

“A bee?” Mrs. Featherington questioned suspiciously. “My God, girl, his mouth was on your breast! How green do you think we are?”

“His mouth was not on my breast!” she shouted, pointing toward her chest. “See, the sting is here, nowhere near my breast!” Kate was a bit embarrassed of how loudly she was speaking about one of her most intimate places, but the way Mrs. Featherington was looking at her made her feel so small.

“Anthony?” Lady Bridgerton asked, deferring to her son with a grim expression.

“It’s true,” Anthony’s voice was as grim as his mother’s, and his face had grown hard. Kate suddenly felt very, very small.

“Well,” his mother started but said nothing more.

“Kate,” Mary spoke quietly. “Come here.”

Kate got up and dutifully reached her mother’s side. Mary grasped her hand, as if she knew all her daughter’s emotions in this moment, and maybe she did.

“Well, what are we going to do?” Mrs. Featherington asked, looking at the group assembled in front of her.

“ We are going to do nothing,” Anthony insisted, looking at the woman in front of him. “You, Mrs. Featherington, are going to keep your mouth shut. There is no reason for this to get out. No one needs to know.”

“No one needs to know?” Mrs. Featherington questioned with a mocking laugh. “Boy, you are in full view of the guest wing. I’m sure everyone knows. I won’t need to tell them. You have to marry her, and soon, too.”

“No!” Kate shouted from her place at her mother’s side. She was not sure exactly why. She wanted to marry Anthony, more than anything, but she could not stand the closed off look on his face. She did not want him to marry her if he felt like he had to. That would not be a marriage; it would be a trap.

“By God, girl, his mouth was on your bubbies! You don’t have a choice,” she pointed out. Kate knew she was right, but it still made her sick to her stomach. Anthony’s face was expressionless where he stood, and she hated it to her core. 

Lady Bridgerton was looking sympathetically toward her son, and Kate ached. She wanted to wrap her arms around Anthony and not let go until he smiled at her. She wanted to run away screaming and never return.

“We will marry next week,” the viscount finally said firmly. He was not longer Anthony; Viscount Bridgerton was firmly in place, ready to do his duty to keep his family safe.

Kate felt ill. She did not want to be a duty. 

“Fantastic!” Lady Bridgerton exclaimed, clutching Mrs. Featherington’s arm tightly in hers. “Oh, we can announce it at the ball tonight! It can be your engagement ball. Kate, dear, what are your favorite flowers? We must add some to the arrangements immediately.”

She felt overwhelmed. At the moment, Kate could barely remember her own last name, much less her favorite flowers. She was about to open her mouth, likely to say something stupid, when Anthony interjected.

“We can discuss that later, Mother,” he told her with a polite glance in her direction. The fierceness of his gaze, though, was turned on Kate. She was pleased to see that his eyes were not as flat as the rest of his face, but that feeling fell far behind everything else. “Right now, I would like a moment to speak to my intended.”

“Are you sure that is appropriate?” Mrs. Featherington asked with a skeptical glance.

“Mother, please remove her from my presence before I strangle her.” Anthony’s voice was calm and measured, but his posture screamed murder.

“Why, I never-”

“No, you always,” Anthony insisted. “Now go.” Then, softer toward Mary, “I will return her to your room in just a few minutes. I just need a moment with her alone.”

“Of course.” Mary gave Kate a quick kiss on her cheek and joined Lady Bridgerton in pratically yanking Mrs. Featherington out of the garden and toward the house.

After a long moment, Anthony released a huge breath of air and sagged against the gazebo behind him. “Kate,” he started, reaching toward her. “I’m so sorry.”

She joined him by the gazebo, taking his hand in hers. Kate gazed steadfastly at their joined hands, not wanting to look into his eyes. “We don’t truly have to marry, you know,” she pointed out. “Most of the guests are out or in the drawing room. It isn’t likely that someone truly saw us.”

“No,” Anthony said, shaking his head. “We shall marry. I want to do the right thing by you, and,” his hand reached up and lightly touched her chin, bringing her eyes to his, “I want to marry you, Kate. You must know that.”

“I do,” she whispered. Her voice was more pained than she really wanted it to be, but Kate did not have the strength to fight against it. “I want to marry you, Anthony, but I cannot let you marry me out of obligation. I don’t want to be a duty. I want to be your wife.”

“You won’t be,” he insisted, squeezing her hand. “You will be my wife, Kate. I was already planning on asking you. I’ve been carrying around a ring for days, in fact, waiting for the right moment. I just wanted it to be perfect for you.” Anthony looked as grieved as she felt, mourning their chance at a private, quiet engagement. “You deserve that much.”

“Anthony,” she just sighed, letting her head fall against his chest.

“Marry me, Kate,” he whispered, placing a small kiss on the top of her head. Kate felt wrecked. How could she ever say no?

“Yes, Anthony,” she murmured. “I want to be your wife.”

“I want to be your husband.” His tone was merely a whisper in the wind. “I want to be your everything, if you give me the chance.”

Seriously, how was Kate meant not to fall in love with this man?

Chapter Text

Kate Sheffield, as it turns out, was not meant for wedding planning.

How was she meant to be a viscountess?

Lady Bridgerton, Violet as she insisted on being called, was ecstatic to plan another wedding. She wanted something grand for at least one of her children, she told Kate. Daphne’s wedding had been in the midst of a scandal; now, Anthony’s was as well. Violet was apparently holding out hopes that Benedict would allow her a magical wedding; he was a romantic, she insisted. Surely he would.

Kate thought she knew about how wedding planning would go. Surely there was not any more to be thrown together than flowers, a dress, and food for the wedding breakfast?

That was the basis of the plans, sure, but Kate found that it was a lot more involved than she initially thought.

The wedding was set the Saturday after the entire ton returned home from the Bridgerton’s party at Aubrey Hall. They had a week to make the preparations, which would be plenty of time, if Violet and Mary were to be believed. But Kate felt that she had not once stepped into their rented house since she returned back to down.

Violet and Daphne, who was happy to assist her mother in absolutely anything that involved planning, dragged her from appointment to appointment to fill her trousseau. Mary attended meetings with the florist and most of her wedding gown fittings, but more often than Kate liked, she stayed home with Edwina. Her sister wanted to attend many of the appointments, but Mary would not allow her, stating that she was too young and that her opinions may influence Kate too much, who only ever wanted to please her sister.

So Kate attended her fittings and smelled many, many flowers with, mostly, Violet and Daphne at her side, and she learned to love her new family. Mary and Edwina would always be her family, and Mary had already confessed to Kate that they would be staying in London until Edwina’s debut the next year, but Kate found comfort in her new family. Edwina would marry and move away, and Mary would move back to Somerset, and Kate would have no one but the Bridgertons. 

And she found she did not mind it too much, although she would miss Edwina desperately. 

So, she was feeling a lot of pressure leading up to the wedding. Kate’s head spun with all the meetings and fittings she had to attend. And, even worse, she had not seen Anthony since she returned back to Mayfair. They had a soft goodbye at Aubrey Hall, wrapped in each other’s arms and quiet murmurings. Anthony even placed a small kiss to her lips, as a small promise of things to come. It was exciting.

But all the excitement of Kate’s future still did not balance out the sheer exhaustion she felt from all the wedding preparations. She felt like a human push pin because of her wedding gown fittings, and if one more person asked her what color napkins she thought would be appropriate for her wedding breakfast, she might scream.

The wedding was set for Saturday morning at Bridgerton House. It was to be a small affair, with just the Bridgertons and Sheffields in attendance. Though she had never been shy of crowds, Kate thought that she much preferred a small wedding, where she could laugh with her family and not worry about the opinions of the rabid ton . She thought Anthony rather agreed with her.

She would know for sure if he perhaps visited her. 

Kate understood that he was likely really very busy. Anthony was already a busy man; being a viscount did not allow for nearly as much time as Kate thought it did. He always attended Parliament sessions or attended to his various tenants across the countryside. When Anthony was not busy with his work, he was often at his club, doing whatever men did there. Kate knew he was a busy man, and she could imagine that settling things for his own wedding on top of his normal duties did not leave much time for social calls.

Still, she would adore seeing her fiance. Anthony felt so far away. Kate was beginning to think that Anthony Bridgerton was just a figment of her imagination, and she had dreamed up the last month of her life. She wanted to see him once more just to believe that he was real.

After her time with the Bridgertons at Aubrey Hall, there was no more denying it. Kate Sheffield was irrevocably in love with Anthony Bridgerton, which was not such a bad thing, considering they were to be married in a week.

The annoying part, though, was that she had no idea how Anthony himself felt.

Kate, for her part, had thrown nearly all her goals for the season out the window. So much for just a simple amiable match with a man who could provide for her family. She no longer desired a simple companionship, a distant marriage that fulfilled her goals and not much else. Anthony, while obviously being capable of providing for her family, gave her the more that she desperately tried not to desire. He made her feel wanted, desired. He made her feel loved, even if she had no idea if that was intentional.

Anthony was decidedly quiet about any feelings he had toward Kate. His actions were one thing; he held her close and tenderly, he kissed her softly, and he even had that whole moment at Aubrey Hall over her bee sting, which she still did not completely understand. Anthony’s words were kind, and he was attentive. Kate could not imagine that his actions were born out of anything but clear affection, maybe even perhaps love.

But he had not said anything that would confirm such a feeling. In fact, Anthony rarely said anything about his own feelings. He mentioned Kate’s feelings, and he confirmed his desire to attend to her feelings, but he left Kate to speculate on what he truly felt.

Kate thought, perhaps, that as long as Anthony felt some sort of affection for her, she could live with it not being love. If he felt some affection, and he desired her, then she could live a happy life. Many women did not even have the affection of their husbands; he could live with a husband who did not love her, who only felt some affection.

Kate thought she could, anyway.

The Thursday before her wedding, Kate begged off her appointments for the day. The last of her wedding gown fittings took place the day before, so all that was left was the flowers and food preparation. She had begged Mary to go in her place to these, along with Violet and Daphne. Mary knew her preferences and surely would be able to manage. Thankfully, Mary took Edwina with her, so Kate truly got an afternoon to herself for the first time in a week.

Kate thought she could cry with happiness from being alone. She had no idea what to do with her free afternoon. Mary had left a half hour earlier with Edwina in tow, and Kate was just wondering if she should call for tea on the terrace when their butler appeared at the door to the drawing room.

“Miss Sheffield, a caller,” he announced, drawing her attention. Kate perked up immediately. Could it be?

“Who?” she asked anxiously.

“Lord Bridgerton,” the butler answered primly. “Shall I inform him that you are at home?”

“Please,” she insisted. “Also, will you ring for a tea service? I was just about to before you came in.”

The butler nodded once and exited the way that he came. Not a minute later Anthony came striding through the door with a large bouquet in one hand. In his other, he held his hat. For a moment, Kate was enchanted by his hair, curling over his forehead in a way that was unfashionable and messy for most men of the ton . All the Bridgerton men wore their hair similarly, with just enough rougishness to drive the debutantes insane. She noticed, for the first time, that Anthony’s ears stuck out just a bit. Adorable.

“Anthony,” she greeted, standing quickly. “I wasn’t expecting you today. I just set for tea, if you’re staying for a while.”

“Kate,” Anthony said with a bright smile. He set down his hat on a chaise and strided over to her, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I apologize for not sending word ahead of time. I was heading home from Parliament and decided I would stop by and check on you.” He then seemed to look around the room and notice who was missing. “Is Mary out?”

“Her and Edwina,” she confirmed. “I begged off the last of the appointments today. Wedding planning is significantly more exhausting than I originally thought it would be.”

“Ah. And how is that going, the wedding planning?” Anthony looked vaguely uncomfortable with the topic, but Kate figured that was probably typical of men among the ton . They rarely seemed to associate themselves with womanly pursuits. 

“Alright, I guess,” Kate answered, shrugging. “Your mother seems to think so, in any case. She has been extremely enthusiastic about the planning.”

Anthony laughed and agreed. “She loves planning. Weddings, especially. She had quite the time planning Daphne’s last season, even though it was a bit expedited. My mother desperately wants to be able to plan a grand wedding for at least one of us.”

“So she told me. I think she was rather hoping it would be you. Now she holds out hope for Benedict.”

“I would have thought she would know better about me. I’ve never been the grand wedding type.” 

“Neither have I,” Kate murmured, finally taking the flowers into her own hands and taking her seat back on the settee. “These are beautiful, my lord. I hope you aren’t buying up all the tulips in the city, though.”
“And if I am?” he asked with that sly smirk. “It is no matter. You deserve only the best. And if that is all the tulips in the city of London, you shall have it.”

Kate felt her cheeks tinge pink at his admission. She did not feel much long she deserved all the tulips in London, but she did not want to argue the point. Kate opened her mouth to change topics, to ask exactly what had kept him too busy to visit, when the butler walked in carrying their tea service. They both thanked him softly and remained quiet until he left again.

She lifted the pot to begin pouring their tea, then paused. “How do you take your tea?” She asked Anthony. “I feel like that’s something a wife should know, and I don’t.”

“Milk, no sugar,” he told her with a kind smile. “Now you know. Feel like a wife yet?”

“Not quite,” Kate admitted as she poured their tea. She splashed a bit of milk into his cup before handing it over to him. “It’s a bit surreal, isn’t it? I knew my responsibility was to get married this season,” she began to confess, “but in truth, I wasn’t sure it would actually happen.”

“Why not?” Anthony asked, puzzled. Kate caught his eye almost the second he saw her. He really could not imagine that she would not have caught someone else’s as well.

Kate shrugged a bit, sipping at her tea. “My first ball was a bit of a disaster. I didn’t really seem to be catching anyone’s eye. If I hadn’t met you,” she blushed shyly, “well, I’m not entirely sure where I would be.”

She did not expect Anthony to look quite as indignant as he did. “If the men of the ton do not find you desirable, then they’re idiots, all of them,” he proclaimed, looking every bit the viscount that he was. “I must count myself lucky then, that I found you before they all came to their senses.”

This was another of those moments that happened frequently with Anthony. He proclaimed things like this, that he thought he was the lucky one to be marrying Kate, but he still made no grand proclamations of his feelings. Granted, Kate had not officially told Anthony of her own, but she felt that this was a place that he needed to go first. The last thing she wanted to do was pressure him.

But these moments in which he made her feel as if he loved her were getting very inconvinent. She did not want to get her hopes up. She did not want to feel love if it was not. 

For a few minutes, they sat in companionable silence. Kate could tell that Anthony was a bit stuck in his head today. He had not simply come by just because he wanted to see her, though she was sure that it played some role. He had something he wanted to say, so Kate was determined to wait him out. She munched on several of her biscuits and sipped her tea, watching Anthony’s face for when he felt ready to speak to her.

“Kate,” Anthony finally said after minutes of silence. He had a peculiar look on his face. She thought that he looked a bit distraught, but he was trying to hide it. Suddenly, Kate dreaded whatever he was going to say. “I wanted to speak about our marriage.”

“Of course,” she murmured, bringing her tea to her lips once again. Anthony was wringing his hands and fiddling with his pink ring in his seat across from her, two things she had never seen him do. Whatever he wanted to speak about was bringing him massive anxieties, and Kate decided that she sort of wished Anthony had not come by at all. 

Suddenly, Anthony froze. He sat up straighter in his seat and his face went blank. The viscount was back. Kate felt weary. 

“I think the last month has shown that we are great companions,” Anthony started, looking more at her shoulder than her eyes. “We understand each other, and we fit together quite well. I find that this is the most important basis in marriage.”

She just nodded when he paused. Kate could not find the energy to even attempt to interject.

“We hold great affection for each other, I believe,” he continued. Anthony looked every bit the viscount that he was, and Kate could see why he was so feared among the men of the ton . Anthony Bridgerton could be quite imposing when he desired. “I think this, too, is a good basis in marriage.”

Anthony paused and took a deep breath. Somewhere in her soul, Kate knew exactly what was going to come next. “I cannot offer you love in our marriage, Kate. I can offer you respect, companionship, and affection. I can give you everything you deserve: the most magnificent flowers, the grandest balls. I can give you wonderful children. But I cannot offer you love, Katherine. I will not.”

Kate just nodded her agreement. Anthony’s words had drained the fight from her; she felt tired to her bones, and suddenly Kate wanted to be alone even more than she had before.

She knew Anthony likely would never love her; he could desire her, and admire her, but she thought that he would never love her. Still, it stung worse than any bee sting to hear the words fall from his mouth.

“Kate?” Anthony asked, his voice soft. He looked like he wanted to reach out to her but thought better of it. “I hope we are in agreement. It will be easier for us both this way. We can have an easy marriage, without any of the complications love would bring.” He looked so earnest that Kate could tell he truly believed it. He thought that this would be the easiest, most beneficial thing for the both of them. She felt so close to tears.

“Right,” she just agreed softly. She had no more words.

Anthony’s face broke out into a smile that did not meet his eyes. It was not as big as his true smiles, and it hurt Kate’s heart. “Brilliant,” he said, wringing his hands once again. “I knew that you would agree. You are most sensible that way. It will be most beneficial, I assure you. And just because it isn’t love does not mean I don’t absolutely adore you, Kate. You are the most wonderful woman in London, and I want to make sure you know it. I’ll do everything I can for you.” 

Kate could not take it anymore. “Of course,” she agreed once more. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord. I suddenly have the most horrible headache, and I think I need to lie down.”

“Are you alright?” Anthony asked, standing and making his way to her side. He placed an ungloved hand against her forehead. “You do feel a bit warm. Have you felt well this morning?”

She saw her exit and shook her head. “I think it is the exhaustion from all the planning. I haven’t been sleeping well,” she explained. 

“I’ll take my leave, then,” he told her, “so that you can lie down. I suppose I won’t see you again until Saturday.”

“Saturday?” Kate could not resist quirking her eyebrow. She nearly cursed herself for it. She did not want to joke at this moment.

“My mother believes firmly that the bride and groom shouldn’t see each other before the wedding,” Anthony explained. “My day is fairly clear tomorrow for the rest of the preparations, but I don’t think she would allow me to come call.”

Kate nodded her assent. Anthony lingered for another moment, then pulled her a step closer to him. “I suppose I will see you Saturday morning, Lady Bridgerton,” he murmured. Before Kate even had a moment to consider his words, Anthony placed a light kiss on her lips.

“Not Lady Bridgerton yet,” she croaked as he pulled away. Anthony’s hands on her waist were nearly enough to make her forget the conversation they had before.

“You are in my heart, darling,” Anthony answered solemnly. He placed another kiss on her forehead and left the room like a gust of wind.

Kate stood there for another moment, basking in the last whispers of Anthony’s cologne. Then, with a murmur to the butler that she was going to her room and not present for any more callers, she went back to her bedroom and locked the door.

Only after lying in her bed did Kate let herself cry, and she stayed that way until her family returned hours later.

Chapter Text

To be completely honest, Anthony could not say that he remembered much of the wedding.

He remembered arriving into their small formal drawing room in Bridgerton House and admiring all the flowers his mother and Mary had practically conjured in the last week. Their tulips were present in small numbers, as well as several lilies (at Anthony’s own insistence). The colors of the room were typical Bridgerton blues and lilacs, with several of the Sheffields’ reds thrown in Anthony thought they looked quite good together.

He remembered Benedict’s comforting presence by his side, poking cheekily at his brother every time Anthony seemed too deep in his head. Benedict was the most obvious and the most perfect choice for his best man; he always knew how to keep Anthony out of his head, even when Anthony himself was not entirely sure. 

He remembered Hyacinth playing flower girl and whacking Gregory in the nose when she ran out of flowers. This gave Anthony a good laugh that he knew he needed in the moment.

And Anthony remembered Kate walking down the aisle on the arm of her mother, dressed in a light green gown. Her gloves ended high over her elbows, and he noted her betrothal ring glittering on her left hand. They had left some of her hair down where it curled and swept over her shoulders. Kate had a soft, shy smile on her face that nearly ruined it.

It was that smile that distracted him from the rest of the wedding.

Anthony was sure that he had the presence of mind to do all the necessary bits; he was sure that he smiled when necessary and took her hands in his and repeated all the mandatory words. He knew he placed a light kiss on her lips when the time came and smiled softly at the polite applause (and less polite boos, from Gregory and Hyacinth).

Despite all his own nerves and his worries that he was even doing the right thing, Anthony knew that he was meant to be with Kate specifically because of that smile. If she was happy in this moment, then he could be happy.

Kate made him want to be happy in a way he really had not in many years.

(That was a bit of a problem, and one Anthony refused to consider at this very moment.)

The wedding breakfast, thankfully, was an equally small affair. Since they chose to have just family at both events, the breakfast was held in the informal drawing room upstairs in Bridgerton House. As the rest of their family left them to make their ways to the drawing room, Anthony finally caught a quiet moment with his wife ( his wife! ) for the first time in several days.

“And how are you feeling, Lady Bridgerton?” he asked her, taking her left hand and rubbing his fingers over the new ring on her finger. Anthony had yet to tell her that he had this one specially made for Kate herself, wanting her to have something that was just her own.

“Weird,” Kate admitted with a small laugh. “Edwina told me I would feel like a different person today. I just didn’t believe her. Lady Bridgerton…” She trailed off as if she did not truly believe it. “Your mother will always be Lady Bridgerton to me.”

“I can’t say I disagree, but you’re also Lady Bridgerton now. Perhaps I’ll just call you that until you truly believe it.” Anthony gave her a crooked, cheeky grin in an attempt to cheer her spirits. Kate seemed far too distracted and in her head for his tastes. “We’re married, you know,” he told her, a bit giddily.

“I know.” Kate’s voice was a bit flat as she gave him her signature are you an idiot? look. “I was there, if you didn’t notice.”

“You were all I noticed,” Anthony admitted quietly. “You look beautiful today.”

“Do I not every day?” Now Kate was beginning to smile in the way Anthony truly wanted to see. She could not resist a moment to poke at him. 

“You always do,” he insisted, “but today especially. I’ll admit, I missed most of the ceremony because I was caught up in you.”

Kate blushed a bit and smiled softly. Her smile disappeared just as quickly, though, leaving Anthony with a frown. She looked thoughtful, and a bit irritated, and just as he was going to ask her what was wrong, Kate suddenly said, “We ought to go. They’ll be waiting on us for the breakfast.”

“Right,” he said slowly. But Kate clearly wanted to go, so Anthony took her hand and let her upstairs.

Once they entered the drawing room, the couple was quickly swept away from each other. Edwina practically snatched her sister away with her typical squeal of “Kate!”, and Anthony dodged his mother for the sake of speaking to Benedict and Colin, who had made their own space by the window.

“How does the new shackle feel, brother?” Colin asked with his typical grin. 

“Don’t call Kate a shackle,” he scolded a bit absently. “But it feels good. I think we work well together. We may be happy.”

Benedict nudged Anthony’s shoulder with his own, and they both looked across the room to where Kate was smiling with Edwina. “You look happy, brother, and for what it’s worth, so does she.”

Anthony hummed at that and kept his eyes on his new wife, who was now speaking happily with Violet and Hyacinth. Colin had wandered off toward the food, but Benedict stayed where he was, arms crossed and leaning against the wall next to his brother.

“I think I could love her,” Anthony whispered. He did not know if he meant for his brother to hear him. He did not really know if he was speaking to anyone other than himself. 

“Is that a bad thing?” Benedict whispered back. Anthony kept his eyes trained on Kate, but Benedict was looking at him. His eyes were concerned, Anthony was sure. 

“I don’t know anymore,” he answered him. Kate laughed, and the boys fell silent.

-

The wedding and the following breakfast was, unsurprisingly, overwhelming. Kate paid rapt attention during the wedding itself, considering the fact that Anthony across from her looked a bit dazed. She supposed one of them needed to remember the wedding.

The breakfast followed a similar path. Kate was not sure if it was typical for newly married couples to spend their first hour or two completely separated from each other, but that was exactly what the Viscount and newly-minted Viscountess Bridgerton did. Anthony took up post near the wall, letting his brothers bring him food and joke, all the while keeping his eyes trained on his new wife. Kate was on the opposite side of the room entirely, surrounded by her sister and whichever of Anthony’s siblings wanted to come and offer their congratulations. Mostly it was young Hyacinth, who bounced at Kate’s side and loudly proclaimed that Kate was her best friend and new favorite sister. The only person who looked a bit put out was Gregory.

She tried her best to engage in any conversation that was brought to her, but Kate was exhausted. The excitement of the week seemed to finally have caught up with her; all she really wanted to do in this moment was slump into her new husband’s arms and sleep for the rest of the way.

The idea of a wedding night was tucked deeply into the recesses of Kate’s mind, waiting to come to the forefront. 

“Do you know where you’re going for your honeymoon, Kate?” Daphne asked politely at her side, bouncing her daughter Amelia on her hip. Amelia had a gummy smile on her face from her mother’s antics, and it made Kate’s heart clench a bit. Babies were really rather adorable.

“I don’t believe your brother has mentioned,” she answered, a bit puzzled. As Anthony was away for most of the week, they had not had any conversations about a potential honeymoon. Kate rather assumed they would not be going one but instead just spend a week or so away from any duties within Anthony’s (former) bachelor lodgings.

“Oh, I do hope you go on one,” Daphne sighed. “Simon and I just went to Clyvedon, but it was so nice to get away from London for a while and just acclimate to each other, you know?” 

Kate nodded, even though she did not really know. 

“Kate,” Daphne started in a more serious tone, causing her to look at her new sister-in-law. “I know it can be a bit frightening, your first day of marriage. I assume your mother has told you all about the, er, intimacies of marriage?” Daphne looked a bit nervous, which made Kate nearly sputter her own nervous laughter. “I just want you to know that you can come to me, if you have any questions, or if you just want the opinion of another newly married woman. I know how overwhelming it all can be, going from your own individual person to the wife of some nobleman. You are strong and capable, but please, write to me if you want help?”

“Oh,” Kate whispered. Daphne’s sincerity very nearly brought tears to Kate’s eyes. In all her imaginings of marriage, Kate had only ever thought of gaining a husband and all the various identity crises that came with it. She had not considered that she would be gaining four new sisters, and that perhaps they would want to help her as much as she wanted to help them. “Thank you, Daphne. I’ll probably take you up on that. Your brother can be quite a handful, after all.”

“Don’t I know it,” Daphne nearly groaned. Then she laughed. “I’ll leave you to my brother,” she told her, gesturing toward Anthony who was making his way across the room. “I believe Miss Amelia needs a change. Please, do take me up on my offer, Kate. I’ll call on you when you return to town.”

Before Kate knew exactly what she was doing, she reached over and pulled her sister-in-law into a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispered in her ear. “I’ll write you after our honeymoon.”

Daphne gave her a soft, knowing smile and stepped away with Amelia, toward her own husband.

“Lady Bridgerton,” Anthony greeted when he made his way over to her. “Have you had your fill? I thought we might head out, if you’re ready.”

Kate’s nerves suddenly came back in full force. She remembered just how much she had to worry about the rest of the day. After Anthony’s profession that he would not give her love in their marriage, Kate worried about how she was meant to act with her husband; how did she keep her heart from her eyes around him? How did she not show her love for him?

The wedding night itself was also something Kate panicked about, but she told herself that it was not quite a concern yet.

“I believe I’m ready,” Kate agreed after a moment. “As long as your family won’t miss us, of course. I have no idea how long is appropriate to stay at your own wedding feast.”

“I think we’ve made it significantly longer than Daphne and Simon did,” her husband told her with a cheeky grin. “Simon whisked her out fairly quickly. Of course, they had a trip to Clyvedon. We’re merely going back to our lodgings a few blocks away.”

“Are we going on a honeymoon?” Kate asked suddenly, unable to forget that Daphne had asked. She could not decide if she truly wanted to spend that time with Anthony. Would time away from their families and the city make things better or worse?

Anthony gave her a surprised look. “Do you want to? I haven’t thought much about it, honestly, but we could spend some time at Aubrey Hall or one of our other estates, depending on where you want to go.”

“I think Aubrey Hall would be nice,” she suggested, looking at the small smile on Anthony’s face. He looked so eager to please her that it made her a little ill.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll write to the housekeeper to let her know of our arrival tomorrow. We can spend the night at our lodgings and leave in the morning.”

“Good,” she agreed, putting on her best smile. “Should we get going then?”

“Of course, Lady Bridgerton,” Anthony murmured, taking her hand in his. Rather than placing it into his arm, he simply held her left hand and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. The gesture was almost enough to bring Kate to tears as they said goodbye to their families.

Edwina was the last to hug her sister, squeezing her as tightly as she knew how. “I’ll see you soon, right?” she whispered, her tone small and perhaps a little scared. It hit Kate suddenly that she had not thought enough of her sister in the last month. Sure, Kate’s entire life had changed, but Edwina’s had too. This would be the first time they had ever been apart, since Edwina’s own birth. 

“Of course, Edwina,” Kate answered her softly. “I’ll write to you as soon as we reach Aubrey Hall, and we can have tea once I arrive back in town, alright?”

“Alright,” Edwina sniffed. “I’ll miss you, sister.”

“I’ll miss you, too, sister,” Kate responded, squeezing her tightly. She pushed back her own tears in favor of holding her sister, just for a moment.

After a few more moments of tearful goodbyes, Kate and Anthony sat in the carriage alone, rolling their way toward Anthony’s (their) lodgings. She had no idea what she was meant to do in this moment. Her husband sat at her side, still holding her hand tightly. His thumb ran across her knuckles almost absentmindedly as he gazed out the window. 

Kate’s nerves felt almost paralyzing. She was not ready for any of this. She did not know how to be a wife, to be a viscountess. 

She had no idea how to please Anthony, Capital R rake, on their wedding night. He had been with tens, if not hundreds, of women, and Kate knew she would never compare to any of them.

Suddenly, she had a vision of their marriage, a year down the line. Kate, pregnant with their first child, and Anthony, laying at the side of his mistress at the end of each night instead of her.

She could throw up.

“My lord,” Kate said suddenly, the words slipping out before she could really even register them. She had no plan for what to say next.

“Anthony,” he answered absently before turning to face her. “What is it?”

“I think we should wait,” she blurted.

“Wait?” Anthony’s eyes twinkled as he looked at her. His face was confused, but the quirk of his lips betrayed the mirth he was feeling. “What for what?”

“The wedding.” Had she gone insane?

“The wedding? I think it’s a bit late for that, darling,” he pointed out.

“The wedding night,” Kate whispered, her cheeks flaming. This was miserable, she decided. Could she throw herself from the carriage?

“The wedding night,” Anthony repeated, his face going a bit blank. “And why, pray tell, would we postpone the wedding night?”

“Not indefinitely,” she insisted, wondering why she was even still talking. “Just a week or so. Perhaps we could wait until we are at Aubrey Hall.” Kate let out a nervous laugh at the increasingly blank look on her husband’s face. This was not going well.

“Prepare,” he repeated, seemingly feeling out the way the syllables felt on his lips. “And can you tell me what you would do to prepare?”

“What?” Kate gaped.

“You said you would like a week to prepare. How, exactly, do you plan to do that?” Kate realized in this moment that Anthony was not entirely as mad as she pictured him being. Rather, he was making fun of her, just the littlest bit.

“You don’t have to be rude,” she pointed out, pouting a bit like a child. She knew that Anthony had the right to demand his wedding night; she would not entirely blame him if he did demand it. But Kate, for all her fears about her future with this man, still knew him. He would not harm her, would not do anything if he thought that she was not truly ready.

“I’m not trying to be, Kate,” he tried to reason. “I just want to know what’s going on in your mind. I can imagine that you must be frightened. Like you said this morning, your life has been upended in the last twenty four hours. But my life has, too,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, but I know that I want to learn with you.”

A fire lit in Kate’s belly, but she could not truly determine what it was or why.Was it anger? Was it desire? Was it hatred? It could be all three, she reasoned with herself. She was angry with Anthony. Angry that he had the ability to say all these beautiful words and still remove himself from the concept of love. He had decided that Kate deserved everything but love, but he was going to do his damndest to make her feel love for him. It hurt.

The tears came back to her eyes.

“My God, you’re terrified,” Anthony whispered, awe in his voice. “Kate, I promise-”

He was interrupted by the footman pulling the door open. They stopped several minutes before, Kate realized, in front of their new lodgings. Before the footman could utter a word, Anthony yanked the door back closed and took both Kate’s hands in his.

“Kate,” he said again, gently, “I need you to trust me, okay? I know this is frightening, but I will take care of you. I will make sure it’s enjoyable, for the both of us.” 

She just nodded once, looking down at their hands. Kate was not sure she could speak again without further embarrassing herself. 

Introductions to the staff of Anthony’s former bachelor lodgings were quick and brisk. He would be soon giving up his lease, he explained as they walked up the stairs. His mother was already nearly begging him to move into Bridgerton House, saying they would need the room once they began expanding their family. Kate’s face turned beet red at that, seemingly how it was meant to stay for the rest of the day.

“We can speak more to her about it when we return from Aubrey Hall,” Anthony told her as he pointed out each of the rooms on the second level of his home. “She seems rather enthusiastic to move out, though. She’s already looking at new leases and talking about hosting one last ball before moving out.”

“Maybe we can slow her down just a bit,” Kate said quietly, wringing her hands. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be Lady Bridgerton just yet.”

“You will be,” her husband told her in a soft, serious tone. “You can take all the time you need, but I know that you will be the most fantastic Lady Bridgerton that our family has ever seen.”

Kate wanted to curse at him. How could he say things like that? How could he lead her on?

Her thoughts stopped quickly as Anthony pushed open the door to his bedroom. It was very clearly designed for a bachelor; everything in the room was deep reds and burgundy and velvet fabric. The decorations were dark and seductive, and Kate thought it rather suited a man like Anthony. His large four poster bed stood in the middle of the far wall, and all she really wanted to do was lie down and sleep for the rest of the day.

“Kate,” Anthony said as he firmly closed the door behind them. His arms wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. His warmth enveloped Kate, and she was so incredibly weak.

She just hummed her attention, turning a bit in his arms until they were face to face. Anthony looked into her eyes, searching for something, and once he found it, he captured her lips in a soft kiss. 

Their kiss remained soft for all of a second, until Kate moved her hands up from her sides to Anthony’s biceps, gripping softly. He let out a soft groan against her lips and began kissing her with a renewed fervour. Anthony’s lips felt like they were consuming her, and his hands moved up, up from her waist until they were on her face, her neck, one moving to the buttons of her dress and the other on the front, cupping her breast.

Kate broke off their kiss with a soft squeak, pulling away enough to look at Anthony’s dark eyes. His pupils were large with desire and his cheeks were flushed. He had a positively devilish look on his face, which made Kate’s knees even weaker.

“Just let me take care of you, my wife,” Anthony whispered in her ear, his voice full of the desire he was feeling. 

“Always,” Kate whispered, unable to deny the man in front of her anything. Anthony Bridgerton was surrounding her in the best way, and she knew that the person she was before this day was utterly lost. After these moments, she would be his in every way she knew how. 

“Always,” she whispered again. Anthony captured her lips once more, and she was gone.

-

Kate was asleep on his chest when Anthony felt something change. It began as a small, twinkling thing in his chest as he watched his wife sleep. Her hair was loose, long pulled from its uncomfortable pins by his roaming fingers, and her slightly swollen lips let out little puffs of air as she slept. She was so beautiful, he thought. Anthony was almost glad that society’s other bachelors had not seen it, because it brought him here, to this moment.

The thing in his chest grew warmer and warmer as he watched his wife breathe. It was a fiery sort of thing, almost like the urge he felt to protect his siblings. It was warm, in the way he wanted to see her happy. Anthony almost had the desire to wake Kate right at that moment, just so he could see her sleepy smile.

Anthony was truthful in everything he told Kate: she was wonderful, deserved the world, and he could try to give it to her. She deserved to be protected, desired, and liked. She deserved a companion, and Anthony desperately wanted to be her partner, her first thought in the morning and last in the night.

He hoped desperately that he was hers, too.

Anthony Bridgerton tried his best not to think about what that meant. He could not love her, he would not. He would not leave her in pieces as his father had left his mother. He would not destroy her life with his impending death.

Kate and Anthony could be friends. They could be partners, who held friendship, respect, and honor toward each other. They could desire each other in the way husbands and wives were meant to, but they could not love each other.

Anthony was sure this was possible.

It had to be.

Chapter Text

Anthony was only alone with Kate for an hour when he knew something was wrong. 

Not wrong with Kate, or anything wrong with them together. Rather, Anthony realized that perhaps he was in over his head when it came to Kate Bridgerton.

(Kate Bridgerton. Lady Kate Bridgerton. Viscountess Kate Bridgerton. It was wonderful.)

Marriage with Kate, even the first day of it, was everything little Anthony Bridgerton, before he became Lord Bridgerton, dreamed it would be. Kate was not the demure wife that many men of London preferred; she vexed Anthony from the moment he woke to the moment he went to sleep. She was willing to fight about everything: breakfast, the paper, what cravat Anthony wore that day. She gave her opinions loudly and frequently, refusing to defer to any of the ideas of her husband. She even, when he needed to attend to his accounts, stood over his shoulder and watched, making small remarks about the condition of his estate.

Anthony rather liked it, he thought.

(Well, he could probably think of a better word than like , but Anthony Bridgerton chose to ignore that thought.)

Even in just the first few days, Anthony could not understand how he had gone so long without Kate in his life. She was the perfect companion to his life; she understood duty, and she wanted to share the burden in a way that he was sure many other ladies of the ton were unwilling to share with their husbands. 

And their nights together were true magic. Anthony Bridgerton was not a man that was unfamiliar with sex. Before Kate, he thought that he had had life-changing nights. Now, they all seemed like a joke. Kate’s body fit his in every possible way, and her body under his made his heart sing.

Marriage, in summary, seemed to fit Anthony rather well.

But that, he grimaced as he sat in his study at Aubrey Hall pretending to work, was the problem. 

Marriage with Kate suited him a bit too well. Kate Bridgerton was easy to like and far too easy to love, and Anthony, for all the ways his plan had changed and altered to fit this woman, was still determined that love would be the one thing he would not give her. Love was dangerous: love was Daphne sobbing in the entrance hall, was Colin’s cracking grin, was Benedict’s cloudy eyes, was Eloise’s quiet guilt, was Francesca’s confusion and Gregory’s soft babbles for his father. Love was Hyacinth who would never know her father. 

Love was Violet Bridgerton’s screams as she sobbed over her husband.

No, Anthony would not be responsible for that. He would not leave behind a broken family in his death. He would not leave behind a wife, unable to move on, and children still grieving their father so many years later.

He would not be cold and unforgiving Lord Bridgerton, but he could not allow himself to be truly Anthony with Kate, either. He was not even sure that he knew who Anthony was anymore.

These determinations led Anthony to hiding in his study in Aubrey Hall, pretending to work like the coward he was. He wanted to be with Kate, even if he was not entirely sure where she was or what she was doing. Instead of staring at his ledgers, he would rather be sitting quietly at her side, perhaps holding her hand or laughing quietly at her ranting opinions about something. 

He was attempting to limit his time at Kate’s side. Too much exposure to one’s wife was unfashionable among the men of the ton , but to Anthony, it was downright dangerous. His wife had a way of drawing him in until he could no longer breathe outside her presence. 

As Anthony sat in his chair, swirling a glass of brandy and attempting to look busy, a knock sounded on his office door. “Enter,” he intoned, hoping that it was just his valet with some message from a miscellaneous tenant.

Of course, his hopes were dashed and alighted at the same time when Kate pushed open the door. Her hair was loose from its usual coiffure, and her green dress was much lighter and more casual than anything she could wear in London. Anthony’s breath caught in his throat for a moment as he took her in.

“My lord,” Kate greeted with a sly smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting any important business.”

Anthony felt like his plans had been quickly caught out. “Of course not,” he insisted, pushing his ledgers to the side and sliding out from behind his desk. “What can I do for you, love?”

“I was rather hoping you would be willing to set aside your work for the afternoon and accompany me on a walk around the grounds,” she suggested, gliding across the room until she was directly in front of Anthony. “Unless your work is too urgent.”

He groaned. “How do you always know?” he asked, knowing that she had caught onto his schemes. Damn, now he was going to have to find some other way to fill his afternoons outside her presence.

“A wife never tells,” Kate answered with a bright grin. “So, I assume you’re free to lead me around the grounds then? I would rather like to see the expanse of our home.”

Anthony slid her arm into his own without further question and began to lead them from the room. “Our home? Not just the country estate?”

“Well,” she started, drawing out her words as she took in the look on her husband’s face, “I love the country. You love the country. You grew up here. I thought that perhaps it might be nice to spend a bit more time here outside the season, once we begin having children. I would rather like to see them sprinting through Aubrey Hall.”

Anthony was surprised that she had even considered it. He had not thought much about where they would reside in the future, only that it should be close to his siblings.

“Perhaps not full time,” Kate continued when her husband made no move to answer. “I’m not sure I would care to be that far from our family, honestly. I assume Violet intends to remain in London, as she has for the last several years. But maybe a few extra months out of the year. It is good for children to have room to run, and nature to run through, I hear.” She had a cheeky grin on her face as she considered their future. Anthony could almost see it himself. “Anthony?” she asked at nearly a whisper.

“That would be lovely, I think,” Anthony croaked, his voice coming out much more hoarse than he thought it would. “I hadn’t given it much thought, honestly. Just that I do not wish to be too far from my siblings.”

“Of course,” Kate agreed. “We do not have to speak of this at this moment, if you wish.”

And that, Anthony thought with both reverence and derision, was what made Kate so great. She never pushed and never expected more of Anthony than he was willing to give. It was enough to make him scream, or kiss her senseless. 

The couple was silent as they exited the house, walking slowly arm in arm. Kate’s body was warm next to his, and Anthony was nearly drunk on her usual lilies scent. He was not sure how he was supposed to remain in her presence for so long. He could drown in her.

“I think I would like to see your favorite part of the grounds,” Kate decided, drawing Anthony from his thoughts. “If you don’t mind showing me, that is.”

“Of course,” he murmured, still a bit distracted. What was his favorite part of the grounds? He could take her somewhere bland, like the maze of hedges his mother had created for her children. Or he could take her down to the lake, and perhaps they could swim for the afternoon. It was rather warm, after all.

Or he could take her to the treehouse.

Anthony had never taken anyone to the treehouse. It was something meant just for him and his siblings, a space their father had created just for family. He had not seen it in years; it was likely that the space was falling into disrepair. The treehouse was just another one of the spaces of Aubrey Hall that Anthony desperately avoided, too caught up in the memories of his father’s smile and laugh.

Quietly, he allowed himself to imagine a small boy, the perfect mix of himself and Kate, running through the fields of Aubrey Hall. He imagined himself leading his son to the treehouse, climbing up the small rope ladder, and sitting up there for hours, father and son. He imagined Kate peeking her head up into their space and climbing in herself.

Anthony allowed himself just a moment of dreaming about his future, then stored the thought neatly away.

“The treehouse, then,” he told her, and Kate gave him a great smile. They set off in the right direction, and his wife was quiet only a moment before she spoke again.

“Tell me about this treehouse, then,” she prompted him. “Why is it your favorite part of the grounds?”

“My father built it for us himself,” Anthony admitted quietly. “Benedict and I spent a lot of time in it when we were younger. Sometimes my father would join us and tell us stories of dragons that used to roam the grounds.” He laughed softly, remembering Benedict’s insistence that he had seen a dragon once, sitting not two trees away from their spot. “It became a bit of a boys cave after Daphne was born, but eventually we were forced to relent and allow the girls up there when Eloise was born. I haven’t seen it in years, though.”

Kate, thankfully, did not have to ask why. “I always wanted a treehouse,” she told him, moving her hand from his arm so that it clutched his own hand. “Our home in Somerset was rather flat, though. Not a lot of trees. There was really only one, but it was dead from being struck in a storm.”

“This could be our treehouse,” Anthony suggested. “It may need a bit of work, but I’m sure we could patch it up during our honeymoon.”

“We?” Kate said, surprised. “You would allow me to help you fix your beloved treehouse?”

“I didn’t think you would relent until I did.”

She let out a twinkling laugh. “And right you are. My husband won’t do that kind of work on our honeymoon without my help. We’re both meant to be relaxing, after all.”

“Is that why you continue to distract me from my accounts?” Anthony asked slyly, looking over at the mischevious smile on her face.

“Of course not,” Kate answered him innocently. “Who would ever do such a thing? Lord Bridgerton is notoriously difficult to draw away from his accounts, you know.” 

Anthony hummed in response. “Yes, I have heard that. Although, his wife does seem very adept at driving him to distraction.”

“Is she?” Kate affected a mock shock. “I hadn’t heard that. I’ll have to inform the rest of London. They seem to think Lord Bridgerton is far too much of a stoic to be driven to distraction by his wife, of all people.”

“You shall not,” he told her, pretending to be outraged. “Lord Bridgerton has quite the reputation, and it would do no good to ruin it.”

Kate tried to keep a straight face at their joke, but it quickly turned into laughter. “Oh, I cannot do it,” she said through her giggles. “You just look so serious.”

“I’m very serious, my lady,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I had a reputation, and while I am completely driven to distraction by my wife, I would enjoy keeping that a secret for as long as possible. It’s no good for your enemies to know your weaknesses immediately.”

“Your secret will not stay as such for very long,” she pointed out. “Whistledown will report on anything before long.”

“Then let her,” Anthony answered simply. They stood in front of the treehouse now, but his eyes were only on Kate. “My affection for you will be no secret. I just don’t particularly enjoy other lords needling me in Parliment.”

Kate’s cheeks blazed, and she suddenly looked away from her husband and up to the treehouse. “This is it?” she asked after clearing her throat.

“The very one,” Anthony answered softly. “It’s… smaller than I remember.”

She let out another soft laugh. “I can imagine so, if the last time you entered it was over ten years ago. I imagine it looked a lot larger when you were younger.”

Considering the status of the Bridgertons, the treehouse was very much on the modest side. It was large enough to fit maybe half of their clan comfortably, and the wood used to build it came from Aubrey Hall itself. Edmund Bridgerton had pieced the small structure together himself, giving his sons a space that was only for them (until their sisters came along, that is).

Anthony desperately wanted to see his own children make residence within the old treehouse. He decided in that moment to speak to his valet when he returned and see about procuring the necessary materials to return it to its former glory.

That being said, the treehouse was not in as horrible shape as he imagined it being. A few boards were out of place and some looked a little rotted, but Edmund’s handiwork withstood the years, as Anthony always knew it would.

“Do you think it’s safe to climb?” Kate asked, pondering the rope ladder. “I should like to see your boys club.”

“I think it should be,” he answered, looking up at the structure. The boards on the bottom looked in good condition, and Anthony thought as long as they did not decide to have a jumping competition, it should hold the both of them. “After you, then.”

Carefully, Kate climbed up the ladder to the treehouse. It appeared difficult at first as she navigated climbing with her skirts, but she was lightly dressed and able to manuver her way up the precarious rope ladder. Anthony climbed up once his wife had disappeared into the structure.

The inside was much, much smaller than he remembered. More than likely, Anthony had not entered the treehouse since Francesca was born and the girls thoroughly took over the structure, and so his memories had exaggerated the greatness of it. But the inside still looked almost exactly as he remembered, just in miniature: small wooden cars and soldiers littered the corners, dolls and loose fabric capes were strone over the floor, and each of his siblings’ names were carefully penned with chalk in various parts of the structure. Anthony was proud to see that his own still stood the tallest, for Benedict had hit his growth spurt long after they stopped hiding out there. 

Kate looked around with a small smile on her face, taking in the well-loved feel. Carefully, she sat amongst the scattered toys and tucked her skirts underneath her. “When was the last time anyone was up here?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Anthony admitted. “Probably sometime after Gregory was born. I haven’t visited in a long time. The girls took over the space once Francesca was born. Daphne and Eloise thought they needed their own space, away from the baby, and we boys finally gave up.”

“It looks so well loved,” she told him. “This is a wonderful space.”

“It was my favorite,” Anthony admitted softly. “Sometimes I could convince my father to come sit up here with me, and he would tell me stories about knights and dragons. Benedict and I were convinced that a dragon lived in the woods surrounding Aubrey Hall. He even swears he saw it once.”

“Dragons are very serious,” Kate nodded solemnly. “Perhaps we should be vigilant.”

Anthony moved from his spot across from her to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. “This place means a lot to me,” he whispered in her ear, too afraid to speak any louder for fear of ruining the moment. “No one but my siblings has ever been up here.”

“I’m honored to be the first,” Kate answered in the same soft tone, placing a kiss on his cheek. “What’s your favorite memory?”

Anthony thought for a moment. He had so many wonderful memories of this place: stick fighting with Benedict, teaching Colin how to best climb trees, playing dolls with Daphne. He knew, always, what his favorite memory would be.

“One morning,” he started quietly, “when I was about ten, my father and I came here after our morning hike. After Benedict and Colin were born, it was rare that he would take just one of us out for a walk; usually he would take all of us, or some mixture of us that could walk or be carried easily. But that morning he chose to take just me, and afterward we came here and just laid on the floor together. He told me stories of how he grew up at Aubrey Hall and all the mischief he created here. He told me about the things he did at my age, and he told me about how he met my mother. I wanted to be like him so badly, Kate.” His voice cracked, badly, but Kate did not seem to notice. She was looking at him with sad eyes, as if she knew exactly how he felt. And maybe she did. “I still do. I don’t think I’ll ever live up to my father.”

“He would be so proud of you, Anthony,” she told him softly, grasping his hand in hers. “I know that I don’t know him, and please pardon me if I’m being too presumptuous, but I don’t think he would want you to be just like him. He would want you to be you , Anthony. Who you are is so important, so wonderful. I just wish you saw it.”

Kate looked at him so softly Anthony thought he could cry. Her eyes were full of sympathy and something else, something stronger. Anthony thought he knew exactly what it was, thought it was likely reflected in his own eyes, but he pushed it away. Now, caught up in memories of his happy childhood and even happier times with his father, it was not the time to ponder his feelings for his wife.

Instead, he pulled her closer by her neck and then her face, and he allowed his mind to go blissfully blank with her kisses.

Chapter Text

A storm was brewing at Aubrey Hall. Kate knew it in her bones as she woke that morning, as sure as she knew that the sun was warm and that the sky was blue and that Anthony was beginning to feel like home. A storm was coming, sooner rather than later, and Kate was terrified.

When Kate woke, the sky was cloudy and overcast in a way that could only be foreboding. Anthony often preferred to sleep with the great curtains of the viscount’s chamber cracked so that he could wake with the sun, and she could see the grey sky clearly from where she laid. Anthony himself was sprawled out beside her, laying on his stomach and snoring softly through his open mouth. For all his charm and good looks, Anthony was not an attractive sleeper; his hair was in the kind of disarray that was decidedly not attractive, he snored quite loudly when he truly slept, and he drooled. Eveywhere.

(Kate, in truth, was quite charmed by all of it, but that would never stop her from gently needling her husband about his sleeping habits. She was just happy that he slept next to her, instead of wandering the halls looking for work as he admitted he often did.)

Her husband had one arm thrown across her body in a way that could not be comfortable for how he laid, so Kate shifted in an attempt to dislodge herself and take her mind off the impending rain. Anthony snuffled and groaned as she moved, blinking his eyes to attention. Now that he was awake, she sat up in bed and pulled the blankets over her bare chest; they had fallen asleep promptly after their lovemaking the previous night, and neither redressed in their exhaustion. Kate found that she rather enjoyed the closeness of them.

She smiled down at her husband as he blinked confusedly up at her. Anthony, for all his lack of sleep, was not really a morning person. When he slept, he slept like the dead and often had a difficult time waking up properly.

“Good morning,” she said quietly, running a hand through her husband’s sleep-fluffed hair.

“Morning,” Anthony answered gruffly, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He stretched himself up toward her for a kiss. “What’s wrong?” he muttered against her lips.

Kate pulled back abruptly. “What makes you think something is wrong?” she countered.

“You seem off,” Anthony told her, reaching up to smooth her forehead where crinkles had obviously begun to form. “Let’s lie back down for a while,” he suggested. “We don’t have anything to do today, do we?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered, turning her eyes back toward the window. Part of her wanted to get up and shut the curtains, so that she would not have to think about the coming weather. Another part wanted to open them wide and stand defiantly in front of the window; this time, the storm would not bother her. She had Anthony as her rock and more importantly, herself. It was time to face her silly fear and face down the thunder. She could do it.

Instead of doing anything, Kate shifted back down until she was lying beside her husband. Anthony had rolled over onto his back and pulled her close with his arm, running one of his hands across her stomach and chest and tangling the other into her hair, massaging her head.

“How do you always know what I need?” Kate whispered into his chest, feeling almost hypnotized at his touches. Everything about Anthony was so soothing, from his smell to the way his fingers brushed langually across her stomach. Nothing about the moment felt charged, just intimate and emotional in the best possible way. Anthony soothed her fraying edges, calming her down before she really had the potential to work herself up.

Anthony made her feel cared for and loved in every way, and Kate, in that moment, could not bring herself to fight against it. Even if he did not mean to show her this kind of love, Kate felt it, and she would not allow herself to take it for granted.

“I know you,” he answered simply. Kate realized that he was right. 

-

By lunch, Kate was merely putting up a brave face. She no longer felt the calm of the morning, the peace of Anthony’s embrace. The sky had turned even darker and the sun all but disappeared. Now, she could only wait.

Anthony disappeared, citing ledgers that needed balancing and correspondence that needed a response, and Kate let him go. She thought that he probably did have things to do  (for viscounts could not very well take long vacations without some notice or preparation), but she did not think he had nearly as much as he would like her to believe. Kate knew that Anthony was finding things to keep him busy, trying to keep his space, and truthfully, she would not fault him for that.

So Kate was alone, sitting by the window in the small viscountess’ drawing room. Anthony told her that his mother had never spent much time in this space; she preferred the smaller family rooms within the family wing and rarely enjoyed spending time in the prescribed viscountess’ chambers. Kate found that she liked having her own private set of rooms, however. Though it was a bit excessive, she never had her own space in her home in Somerset. Here at Aubrey Hall, she had several chambers that were meant just for her, though she was not often without Anthony.

Kate was settled in the most comfortable chair in the room by the window when the thunder began. It was a distant kind of summer storm, she could tell. Though the sky was dark, it was still a way off. Kate could still hope that it passed over her. 

Distractedly, she opened the book that sat in her lap and attempted to read. It was some new novel by that Austen woman, one that Edwina had raved over and the Aubrey Hall library just so happened to have. Kate was usually neutral on romance books, much preferring a mystery, but she hoped that the light-heartedness of the novel may take her mind off the storm roaring outside the window.

Unsurprisingly, it did not.

As she sat there, rereading the same page over and over, Kate was torn. She listened to the wind against the window and the soft patter of rain that started, and she wanted Anthony. She wanted her husband beside her because his mere presence gave her strength. She wanted him to speak softly and laugh in that delicate way that he does, and Kate was almost desperate for him to appear. 

But Kate also, inexplicably, wanted to do this herself. She wanted to stand against the rain on her own, to laugh in the face of the storm, to be brave when facing the one thing that had always bothered her. She did not know exactly why she was so afraid of storms, other than her mother had died during one, but she was so tired of being afraid of them.

Anthony, somehow, made her want to do this. He made her want to face her fears. She wanted to be stronger with him.

So instead of hiding away as she usually did, finding a bed or a closet and pulling the shutters tight, Kate continued to sit in her chaise and watch the clouds roll toward her, waiting. 

She may not do much, but this was enough for the moment.

-

In his study, two halls away from where his wife was sitting, Anthony sat at his desk, watching the storm through the windows across the room.

He wanted to go to Kate. He wanted to run to Kate and draw her up into his arms and block out the storm with his body, making himself a physical barrier. But he could not allow himself to do that quite yet. Anthony was taking a self-imposed solitude, trying to keep himself away from his wife’s side. It was less, so much less, than she deserved, but Anthony needed the moments of silence. He was in much too far over his head.

Kate was too easy to love. From the way her hair flowed over his shoulders to her life to the way that she spoke, soft and knowing and full of amusement. She liked Anthony, soothed his rough edges and made him feel comfortable in himself. He liked the way he was with her, something he had only ever felt in the presence of his family. Kate was aggravating and argumentative, sure, but so was he. They were the same and different, and that was precisely why he could not allow himself to run to her side, even in the wake of her own fears. 

Anthony could live his life away from his wife. Most of the men of the ton did it. He just needed to learn how to balance his time, mornings and nights with Kate and the rest of the day out of the house, away from her allure.

It was more difficult here, but surely it could be done in London. It would have to be. Anthony would not allow himself anything else.

But now, he knew that Kate was struggling. The storm was growing closer, and he merely sat and watched it move in. The sky had grown so dark over the course of the day that it was nearly black. The wind was howling in earnest, and the rain pounded against the windows of Aubrey Hall. Finally, the thunder he was expecting boomed over the top of their home, and Anthony knew he could no longer leave Kate to face this alone.

He found her exactly where he left her, in the small drawing room of the viscountess’ chambers. It was a cosy room, full of typical Bridgerton blues and lavenders, and the room was well-maintained despite the little use it had received in the last thirty years. 

“Kate?” he asked softly as he pushed the door to the room open. Anthony desperately hoped that she was not fairing too badly. The storm had not reached its apex quite yet, and he hoped that he could comfort Kate before she reached the state she had the last time. Perhaps they could learn to weather these together and prevent her from reaching the near catatonic state she had been in.

Instead of finding her crouched under another table, Anthony met Kate standing at the window of her drawing room, watching the rain pound outside. Her spine was straight and her shoulders were firmly squared, as if she were preparing to go off to war, not just watching lightning strike.

“Kate?” he prompted again as he approached her. Softly, Anthony placed one hand on her waist, simply touching in an effort not to startle her. She did not jump, as he expected her to do, but she did not do anything, which was almost more frightening. 

Anthony positioned himself with his back against the window so that he could watch his wife’s face. Her eyes were fixed on the window, barely blinking. Kate’s face was a bit pale, and she watched the lightning with an almost horrified look, her mouth a bit open and face slack. 

Anthony felt ill.

His hand slid from her waist to her hand to feel how cold she was. Her hand was shaking slightly in his, and Anthony began to feel a bit panicked.

“Kate, darling,” he whispered urgently, pulling on her hand a bit to get her attention. Kate made no indication that she heard him; instead, she just blinked slowly and continued watching the scene playing out in front of her. Anthony pulled at her arm gently, trying to move her away from the window and to the settee where they could sit together. 

After a few moments of pulling, Kate’s limbs seemed to finally unlock, and she let herself be pulled toward the settee across the room, far from the window. Anthony wanted to pull the curtains shut with as much violent force as the rods could stand, but Kate’s eyes were still locked on the view outside, and with the haunted state she was in, he was a bit afraid to disrupt the view. His wife looked almost like she was in a trance, and Anthony did not want to do too much to disturb her.

So instead, he perched them both on the settee, her with her ramrod straight posture and him curled around her the most he could manage, hands tight in hers to warm them. He tried to create a barrier between them and the outside world, but the way Kate’s breath was steadily increasing told him that he was not succeeding nearly as much as he liked.

Anthony’s mouth was positioned perfectly at her ear, so he began trying to whisper comforting words. He recalled words his mother had spoken to him and his siblings, the words he used last time, anything to bring his Kate back to him. Her state was beginning to deteriorate, and she flinched violently with each burst of thunder and flash of lightning. Anthony thought his heart could not break anymore, but evidently, he was wrong. 

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered, trying to rid himself of this awful guilt. If he had left his office, if he had gotten out of his head before now, maybe Kate would not be in this state. Maybe she could at least be alert, softly snorting at whatever story he could think of to tell her. 

There were so many things he wanted to tell her.

So Anthony began to speak, hoping his voice would bring her back from whatever trance she was in. He told her about all the pranks he once played on his siblings, from the glue in Benedict’s shoes to the (small) frogs in Eloise’s bed. He told her about learning the pianoforte along with Francesca and teaching Gregory how to climb a tree. He described holding baby Hyacinth for the first time and how frightened he was every time she cried. Anthony found himself telling her secrets he had never told anyone else, waiting for Kate to come back to herself in this storm and perhaps hoping that she had not heard him in her daze.

(He would never actually hope that. Anthony wanted Kate to know the deepest parts of him, even if he was afraid of what that meant.)

It felt like a millenia before Kate began to come back to him. It started slowly, as it had before, with her hands twitching and her eyes blinking. She seemed to return in stages, and before long, she was looking up at him with her big eyes and whispering “Anthony?”

“Kate,” he answered her, pulling her even closer until he was crushing her in his arms. “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” she asked in a tone that sounded almost sleepy. Kate still sounded far away, as if she was not quite back in her body. “It isn’t like you can control the weather.” A joke was a good sign.

“No,” Anthony told her gently, “but perhaps it wouldn’t have been as bad if I were here. I stayed away too long, Kate, and I’m sorry for that.”

Kate gently disentangled herself from him and looked at her husband, taking in how stricken he looked. “Anthony,” she said to him in the same tone he used with her, “I have always been afraid of storms. You being here wouldn’t have made much of a difference. In fact, I think I was a bit better this time. I didn’t even cry!”

Despite the cloudiness in her eyes, Kate looked so proud Anthony felt his heart ache a bit for her. “What were you doing? You were just frozen in front of the window. I had to pull you over here.”

“Oh, I had forgotten,” she responded quietly. “I was watching the storm. I wanted to try to face my fears this time. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I wanted to watch the lightning and rain and hear the thunder and hope that it didn’t scare me.”

“Did it?” Anthony’s heart was pounding in his chest.

“It did,” she affirmed. “But not as much as usual, I think. I kept thinking of you.” Kate’s eyes were now bright and fierce and shined with something else, too, as they looked deep into Anthony’s. It was enough to make him feel sick. “I thought of the strength you bring me. Even when you aren’t with me, you make me feel like I can do anything, Anthony. I wanted to face my fears because you give me the power to. I want to be stronger for you and with you.”

“Oh.” Anthony’s voice was hollow, and some unnamed feeling washed over him. It burned him, making him hot and cold and Anthony knew that he needed to get out of this room, needed to get somewhere where he could just sit in his thoughts and dissect whatever this new thing that entered him was. 

But Anthony was powerless when Kate looked at him with her big, tired eyes and asked, “Can we go to bed? I think I need a nap before dinner.”

So he just whispered a quiet, “Of course, darling,” and carried his wife down the hall to their chambers, listening to her musical laugh and his pounding heart the entire way.

-

Later that night, Anthony lay awake in their quiet room. The storm had long passed, and Kate snored softly beside him. By all accounts, he should be exhausted from the events of the day, but Anthony felt like he could run from Kent to London without breaking a sweat.

He was jealous, he had decided. He was so jealous of Kate and the way she even desired to face her fears. It was something Anthony could not (would not) bring himself to do, and the fact that she wanted to do it because of the strength he brought her was far too much. She wanted to face down the storms that had always battered her, and Anthony wanted to curl up and hide at the idea of allowing himself to love and be loved.

Anthony knew when he married Kate that she deserved so much more than him. Now, he was having to face the reality of the situation.

And it stung.

Chapter Text

Back in London, the gap between Kate and Anthony only widened. 

Their mornings were spent in quietness together. They broke their fast together early in the morning, speaking lightly of their plans for the day and anything they desired until Anthony deemed it time to saddle his horse and ride off to whatever he needed to accomplish for the day. Kate wasted away her late mornings and afternoons in the company of their families, either calling on Mary and Edwina herself or taking the brisk walk to Bridgerton House to have tea with Violet and the children. When she wasn’t with her family, ladies of the ton filled her own drawing room in order to gaze upon the new Lady Bridgerton and decide just what about her had attracted Lord Bridgerton’s eye.

Kate’s evenings were the most varied part of the day. More often than not, they were spent at some ball, musicale, or soirée, playing the part of a dutiful society lady and sister. She stood at the sides of her mother, sister, and Violet, and often watched the first hour of the event pass by in a blur of polite tones and tulle. Then, Anthony would often arrive and whisk her away to the dance floor; he loved to dance, Kate learned quickly, though he would never admit it. Many men never danced with their wives at these things, but Anthony always made an appearance, always danced with her one more time than considered proper, and always took her back to their home once their families were taken care of.

Their nights were for them alone. Kate and Anthony spent their nights wrapped in one another, revelling in the intimacy of their marriage. Anthony always asked about her day, and how she was doing, and he always told her about his in as much detail as she desired. They talked and kissed and made love until one of them became too tired, and Kate enjoyed her life so much.

It was probably a dull experience for most, but Kate loved her life. She had everything she ever wanted: her mother was safe and provided for, Edwina had a dowry and could marry as she saw fit, and she had gained seven new siblings she could dote on and annoy. It may have been dull, but it was hers.

There was just that pesky problem of her husband’s feelings.

Like many quiet afternoons, that was what Kate was thinking about. As she sat having tea at Bridgerton House one Tuesday afternoon, Kate’s mind was stuck on Anthony and whatever he could be doing this afternoon. He told her his day was full of meetings and the like, but she was hesitant to believe him fully. Kate trusted her husband, but she also knew that he was avoiding spending his days with her. She knew exactly what he was doing.

The question, though, was why? Why did he insist on spending so much time away from the house, without any real explanation of why? Anthony was a busy man, she knew, but Gregory also had let it slip that Colin said that Anthony spent most of his afternoons at White’s, reading the newspaper or playing cards with his brothers. Gregory was notably jealous that he could not go to White’s and spend time with his elder brothers, but Kate was jealous that her husband sneaked out the company of his brothers every afternoon instead of her own. It stung, just the littlest bit. 

She knew Anthony was hiding something, she just did not know what . He was being faithful, she was sure of that, but she had no other idea what he may be filling his afternoons with or why he refused to spend more time in her presence than was absolutely necessary.

He held her so tenderly at nights, and he spoke to her with so much reverence and care in his voice. Kate was the focus of Anthony’s mornings and nights; he was the focus of her every moment. Why could she not be the same for him?

Kate sipped on her tea and listened as Eloise prattled on about some book she had just recently finished. She was barely listening, but Edwina beside her was enraptured by her description and hung on Eloise’s every word.

The drawing room of Bridgerton House was filled to the brim that afternoon. All the ladies of Bridgerton House were present, right down to Hyacinth who sat with her marbles on the floor. Gregory sat beside her, needling her when it came her turn to distract his sister. Colin sat slumped on the couch, grabbing snacks from the tea tray at regular intervals and sneaking glances at Penelope Featherington, who sat at Eloise’s left side, when he thought no one was looking. Edwina had come along with Kate in order to spend more time with Eloise and speak, evidentally, about some book she desired to read.

It was a bit taxing, but Kate was grateful for the company of her family, instead of that of the women of the ton .

Kate had taken over a chaise near the window, just out of the center of conversation but close enough that she could still hear. Violet sat next to her and sipped her own tea with a smile on her face, watching her children just exist. It was a nice moment, which is why Kate figured it probably would not last long.

“And how are you, Kate? Are you adjusting to your new role in society? I must confess, it took me a very long time to figure out the intracies of the viscountcy.” Violet turned her gaze on Kate and looked with inquisitive eyes. 

“It’s been a bit difficult,” Kate admitted quietly. She was a bit unwilling to share so many of her insecurities with her new mother-in-law, but if anyone would understand how it felt to go from a simple miss to Viscountess Bridgerton, it would be Violet. “I’m not used to spending so much time with other people. Anytime I am at our lodgings, some lady wants to call on me to get her glimpse into the lives of the Bridgertons.” Kate made a face that was probably very unsophisticated, but Violet just laughed. 

“Yes, I do remember that being a bit irritating,” Violet told her with a soft smile. “But rest assured, it does get easier. Eventually people stop calling when they find out that they won’t get any good gossip from their visits.”

“Good,” Kate murmured, glancing out the window. She watched as the citizens of Mayfair milled about outside, most looking up to see if they could spot anything occurring in Bridgerton House. It was almost laughable, really. 

“And how are you settling into marriage?” Violet asked politely after clearing her throat. “I hope my son is helping you acclimate.”

“It has been pleasant,” she agreed as she avoidded Violet’s eyes. There were certainly times of her life she could describe as more than pleasant, and she thought that the older woman might be able to see it in her eyes just how much she enjoyed her private time with Anthony. “I do wish we could spend a bit more time together, though,” she said softly, hoping that Violet would understand her feelings.

“What do you mean?” Violet prompted with motherly concern.

“He’s just always so busy.” Finally, Kate let the thoughts that had been eating her up loose. She hated that it was to Violet, Anthony’s mother , but no one had really asked how she was doing or feeling, and Kate found herself unable to stop the words from flowing once she began. “Anthony spends nearly all of his time either at Parliament or White’s, but I don’t really know why. Colin said that he just spends most of his afternoons reading the paper or playing cards at White’s, and I sort of just wish he would come home.”

Kate felt sheepish and embarrassed that she had shared these thoughts with anyone, but Violet just smiled at her in the way a mother would. She set down her tea cup, turned more to face Kate, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know,” she started softly, looking at Kate with such a motherly expression it almost brought her to tears, “Edmund did the same when we first married.”

“Really?” she asked astonishedly. Kate had heard about the marriage of Violet and Edmund many times, both from the Bridgertons themselves and from society whispers. It was the most pure of love matches, both Edmund and Violet being enraptured by each other from their very first meeting. After a short courtship and an even shorter engagement, the two were married and so in love that Anthony was born a mere seven months later amidst the love and laughter of his parents. 

It made Kate ache for the state of her own marriage, for the distance between her and her husband.

“Indeed,” Violet confirmed. “Mostly, we spent our mornings and evenings together, and Edmund was away every other moment he could. I despaired of it. I know that many women of our station rarely even see their husbands then, but I loved Edmund, and I couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to want to spend every waking moment with me like I did him.”

“What did you do?” Kate’s voice came out no more than a whisper, barely heard over the increasing volume of the Bridgertons chattering around them.

Violet took one of Kate’s hands into both of her own and smiled gently at her. “I spoke to him, dear. I told him how him spending so much time out of the house made me feel, and I asked him if there was any way we could change things. Marriage is about communication, Kate, and about compromise.”

Kate nodded distractedly, trying to absorb what Violet was telling her. Of course communication and compromise were necessary, but Anthony often seemed like he needed to be away from Kate, and she was not sure that he would listen. “And did anything change?”

“Slowly,” Violet confirmed, still holding her hand. “We had to learn to work around it. Often he would bring his work home, and I would sit in his study while he worked, just reading and being near him. You have to learn what works for you.”

“Thank you,” Kate told her seriously. “Everything has changed so suddenly, and when Anthony is around, I don’t really want to talk about it with him. I didn’t quite realize how nice it would be to have a shoulder to lean on.”

“Of course, dear.” Violet reached across the gap and pulled Kate into a tight hug. “You’re my daughter now, Kate. You have your own mother, of course, but you can always come to me when you need advice or just someone to listen. It’s nice to have another woman around.”

Kate laughed. “Yes, I suppose it is nice with this bunch.” She turned her eyes back to the group in front of them in time to watch as Hyacinth tackled Gregory to the ground over something to do with marbles. She had to hold back a snort as Violet jumped from the seat beside her, admonishing her children. 

She looked happily across the room at the family assembled before her. Kate loved Mary and Edwina, she really did; Edwina was the light of her life and Mary accepted her as her daughter and embraced her in a way many women never do. But the Bridgertons were warm and welcoming and fun in a way that her family was not. Here, in the drawing room of Bridgerton House, Kate felt like she fit.

And even if her conversation with Anthony about her feelings went sideways, she had the rest of his family, and that would be enough for now.

-

When Kate returned home, the house was as quiet as it was when she left. It was nearing dinner time when she left Bridgerton House, and after dropping off Edwina at Mary’s rented house, Kate arrived back ravenously hungry. Their evening was free, since Anthony declined their invitation to whatever ball was meant to occur that night, and she was so looking forward to eating her dinner and going to bed.

Kate was rather hoping her husband would be home to dine with, though.

It was not unusual for Anthony to arrive back late from whatever task he was meant to be accomplishing that day, but normally he returned at least for dinner. 

“Has Lord Bridgerton returned home yet?” she asked as soon as she came across their butler. 

“Not yet,” was the answer she received.

Kate very nearly pouted as she moved from the entrance hall up to their bedroom. She figured if Anthony had not arrived home yet, she may as well lie down until dinner and hope that he arrived soon. It would be a bit pathetic to already be dining alone not a month into her marriage, but Kate would probably get over it.

She must have fallen asleep shortly after loosening her dress to make her more comfortable because a short while later she was startling awake to a short knock and her husband’s call of “Kate?”

All she could do was groan and push onto her elbows, looking at Anthony who stood in the doorway. He had a breathtaking smile on his face as he looked over her and crossed the room. “Long day?” he asked and sat down on the bed next to her. Anthony’s hand made its way up to her face, first caressing her cheek and then moving to tangle in her hair.

“Your family is exhausting,” she grumbled. Kate thought for a moment about playing cool and not giving into her desires, but eventually her desires won out, and she scooched across the bed until her head was positioned in Anthony’s lap and her arm was around his waist. He just laughed and sat back on the bed with her, running his hand across the length of her body.

“Of that, I assure you, I am well aware. Did you do anything else today?”

“Just tea,” she answered into his lap. “It was nice. Just exhausting. So many people. So loud.”

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Anthony apologized. “I got stuck at White’s with Fife. He wouldn’t stop chatting about some investment he’s just made in America. He thinks it will be very lucrative.”

“Do you?” Kate asked as she shifted until she could look into Anthony’s eyes.

He snorted in response. “I really have no care if it is or isn’t. I think he was trying to convince me to invest as well, but I have no interest in America. Everything I need is right here.” Anthony had the brightest smile on his face as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips. 

Kate knew that this was probably a prime moment to bring up her thoughts, to ask Anthony exactly why he seemed so set on spending the majority of his time outside her presence. But he kissed her so sweetly, and he gave her that look with so much warmth in his eyes that she could almost convince herself that he loved her, and Kate was lost. She knew what she needed to do, but she let herself fall to the embrace of her husband, pretending that she was loved as she lay in his arms.

“Shall we take dinner in our room tonight?” Anthony asked as they separated, keeping that wicked grin on his face. 

Kate could not help but grin back just as wickedly. “Of course, my lord,” she replied. “But I think perhaps we should get a bit more comfortable if we’re going to do that.”

Anthony gave her a curious look as she wiggled around in his lap and attempted to loosen her dress a bit more behind her. He took pity on her after a moment, pushing Kate into a sitting position so that he could loosen the laces behind her himself.

“Are you more comfortable now?” he asked with a smirk. Anthony ran his fingers lightly along her spin, eliciting a shiver, before removing himself entirely from the bed. “I’ll ring for something to be brought up if you want to put on a dressing gown.”

Kate hummed in agreement and let her dress slip from her shoulders. She found her dressing gown laying across the chair at her vanity, pulled it on, and settled back on her spot in the bed to wait for Anthony to return. 

A short time later, Kate was giggling as Anthony attempted to feed her their meal. It likely would have been more successful if he had not insisted on holding her hand while he attempted to feed her, using his non-dominant hand and thus spreading food everywhere but her mouth.

“We’re going to have to change the sheets,” Kate laughed as the forkful of fish Anthony was carrying plopped onto the bed between them. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“I’m having fun,” Anthony told her with a grin as he scooped the fish from the bed. “I’ve never had dinner in bed before.”

“Never?” Kate asked in astonishment.

“Well, maybe when I was sick as a child,” Anthony conceded, “but not in a very long time. It feels kind of childish, doesn’t it?”

“In the best way,” Kate admitted. “I like that we get to share these things. I’m happy to act like a child with you.” She reached up and pinched his cheek softly, watching and loving the grin that spread across his face. 

“Now you feed me,” he commanded. “I’m feeling a bit peaky.”

Kate rolled her eyes but picked up the fork he was using and began to feed him. She was far more successful because she used her dominant hand, but Kate still allowed herself the joy of missing Anthony’s mouth for the sake of hearing his soft laugh.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she whispered before she truly thought about the words. It was true, of course; the moment was intoxicating, just the two of them enveloped in the privacy of their own room, full of laughter and smiles and quiet love.

But the soft smile that Anthony was wearing slipped from his face. “Forever?” he murmured, sliding his hand up to catch hers again. His eyes were clouded with some emotion Kate could not read.

She nodded at him and squeezed his hand. Kate decided then that it was time to just admit how she was feeling. The moment was too perfect, too sweet not to, and the words were welling up inside of her and ready to spill over. “Anthony,” she whispered, “I know that you said that ours was not to be a love match,” he made some noise at the back of his throat, but Kate pushed on before the words could overwhelm her, “but I love you. You don’t have to say anything, but I need you to know.”

Anthony was frozen beside her, looking but not seeing with wide, stunned eyes. “No,” he said softly. “No, you can’t. We agreed.”

This was not the way she imagined this conversation going. What had Kate expected? Anthony told her that he would not love her, and here she was, expecting it. She thought that it felt it, but now it was becoming clear that Anthony’s affections were anything but love.

“I know we agreed,” she said softly, feeling smaller than she ever had, “but that doesn’t mean I still don’t feel it. I love you. You don’t have to feel it, but you need to know.”

“No,” Anthony shook his head and shoved himself up roughly from the bed. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“I have to go,” he repeated. Anthony began looking frantically for where he dropped his jacket and cravat.

“Anthony, please don’t leave.” Kate was embarrassed to hear her voice very nearly sounded like a beg. “You don’t have to go. It’s late, just stay.”

Anthony shook his head as he shrugged on his coat. “I can’t be here right now, Kate.”

“Because I said I love you?” Kate was beginning to feel angry now, and it was a challenge to restrain her tongue. The moment was fragile, though, and Anthony was obviously going through something that may or may not have anything to do with her, so she tried. For him, and for the fragile state of their marriage, she tried. 

Anthony froze again with his hands on his half-tied cravat, looking at his wife with haunted eyes. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he said with an air of finality. His Viscount Bridgerton mask was secured on his face, and Kate wanted to scream.

She wanted to scream at him, to curse him and throw things and rail at the unfairness of the situation. Communication, Violet had hailed. All they needed was to communicate, but instead Anthony was redressing his body and arming his emotions. He shut himself off to any of Kate’s attempts at communication, so instead she just put on her coldest expression, to let Anthony know exactly how she was feeling, and said, “Go, then.”

He crossed the room and placed his hand on the door handle when he heard the coldness in Kate’s tone. “Darling…” he trailed off, looking into Kate’s eyes with a stricken expression.

“No, Anthony.” Kate stood too, knocking the tray of food off kilter and watching as it spilled all over the bed. “You said you needed to go, so go. Don’t call me darling. You can’t do that right now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Anthony looked like he wanted to cross the room again and take her into his arms, but he held himself back.

“That’s too bad. Go. We can speak tomorrow.” Kate stood tall as Anthony sagged.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he replied, and then he turned and left the room without looking back.

Kate walked calmly out the door of their room to the bell pull, alerting whichever servant arrived first that she needed the sheets changed in the viscount’s chambers. Then she made her way over to the window of their room and watched Anthony’s form retreat from their own lodgings in the direction of Bridgerton house.

This time, Kate did not allow herself to cry. Anthony left, but he would be back once he dealt with his own demons, and Kate knew this time that she could stand on her own.

She still loved Anthony, and she knew that they would figure this out. Eventually.

Chapter Text

Anthony was nearly thirty years old, and he found himself sitting in his study in what was still his mother’s house, drinking his worries away as if he was eighteen. In fact, Anthony was sure he had not drunk like this in his study since he was at least twenty and was feeling so vastly overwhelmed at the state of the Bridgerton fortune. 

But here he was again, in the dark save a lone candle, staring into the dark brandy in his cup in front of him. Distantly, he wished that Benedict or Colin one was sat across from him just so the entire situation seemed less sad.

But Anthony was alone because he chose to be alone. He had all but run from his wife and their lodgings and instead crept into Bridgerton House like some common thief because he knew if he made too much noise someone was bound to see him. Anthony did not want any of his family members to see him in this state, even though their company would be welcome. 

He just needed the night to get himself together. Anthony would take the night and sort out his feelings, then he would return to Kate in the morning and talk about it. Or maybe not talk about it. He still was not sure what to do on that front.

Kate loved him.

Who knew a man could panic so much because his wife loved him?

Kate loved him. Despite his best efforts to not allow her to get too attached to him, she loved him. 

And Anthony knew, somewhere deep in his heart, he loved her too. And that was a problem he did not know how to solve.

He tried filling his days with ledgers and cards and laws to keep his brain as far from Kate as possible, but all he could wonder was what Kate would think of the new propositions in Parliament and how she would deal with this problem. He was haunted by memories of her over his shoulder and in his lap, examining their accounts at Aubrey Hall. 

And he missed her. Whenever Anthony was away from her side, it felt as if some limb was missing and he would not be complete until he was fitted back against her side.

And perhaps the worst of all, Anthony burned for her. He positively ached when he was not at her side; Anthony wanted to be at her side constantly so that he could never miss one of her laughs or smiles. He wanted to be the cause of those laughs and smiles, always.

When they laid together, Anthony found more and more that he wished he could tuck Kate inside his chest and keep her there, protected and close and his .

It was rather pathetic that the Capital R rake was turned into a pathetic green boy the second he was married, but after weeks of learning and understanding Kate, Anthony was not sure how he was meant to be anything else but hers.

Kate, who was fiercely protective of Edwina in a way that he had not seen outside himself.

Kate, who quietly admitted to him that she came into her season with no hopes for her own life outside ensuring the security of her own family.

Kate, who took the chaos of the Bridgertons in stride and found her own place within them.

Kate, who loved with her whole being and was so confident and secure in herself that it made Anthony weak in the knees.

Truly, how was he supposed to do Anthony but love her?

But that still did not change the reality of the situation, he thought as he knocked back his glass of brandy. Anthony Bridgerton was going to die sometime in the next ten years, likely sooner rather than later. How could he live a life of love and mischief and color , knowing that he would one day leave his family behind to pick up the pieces? He refused to do that to Kate. Kate, who deserved the world and moon and stars. He could not let Kate have a taste of the true joy of being known and loved only to rip it from her fingers. It had happened to him, and it was far too devastating to ever let another experience, if Anthony himself had anything to do with it.

He supposed it was resolved then, and Anthony poured another drink.

They loved each other, but they could not. Anthony could not give Kate love and rip it from her. It was too cruel, and Anthony, despite what many of the ton may say, was not a cruel man. 

He loved her too much to do that.

Anthony’s loud sigh filled the quiet office. He had thought through his feelings and acknowledged them, but now it was too late to go back to his lodgings now that he had made up his mind. He had a fairly comfortable settee in his study, and that would have to make due for the night. He would return to Kate in the morning, and perhaps they could talk about the situation. Anthony doubted he could tell her the truth without sounding like a complete loon, but maybe he would try.

Kate likely would not forgive and forget without some explanation, so Anthony would have to give her one. And he wanted to tell her the truth, desperately, but he was not sure how to form the words.

He had just settled on the settee with his last (he swore) glass of brandy when a sof knock sounded against his study door. “Anthony?” the quiet voice of his mother said.

“Mother!” he exclaimed as he stood. “What are you doing? It is late.”

“I know,” she said bemusedly. “It is. Why are you here?”

Anthony tried to put on his best lying face, the one that had gotten him out of so much trouble when he was younger. “I just had some urgent work to attend to,” he answered with a blasé wave of his hand. “It is no matter. You should go back to bed.” He took note that his mother was significantly less put together than she usually allowed anyone to see; one of the servants must have alerted her that he was here. Drat.

“Where is Kate?” Violet asked, changing the subject quickly. Anthony was a bit shocked, considering he was sure he was about to get another admonishment for creeping into Bridgerton House and working so late at night.

“At home, I suppose,” he answered rather dumbly.

“I just thought that she may have come with you.” Violet entered the room casually, making her way over to the settee where Anthony stood. “You two are rarely seen without each other.”

“I am still my own man, Mother.” His voice came out tighter than he intended.

“Of course,” Violet conceded. “You have your duties, and Kate has hers. But you always seem so attentive when you’re together, so I thought that if you did not have any other responsibilities, Kate would not be far behind you.”

“She is at home,” Anthony said firmly. “And I have work. You should go back to bed, Mother. I assure you that I have myself well in hand.”

Violet was silent for a moment as she looked her son over, searching his face. “Sit down, Anthony,” she said in the gentle tone that he rather thought only mothers could replicate. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“What makes you think something happened?” he asked after he sat down. Anthony was not sure why he even asked; he was sure that his confusion and distress was written all over his face. 

“I know you, Anthony. Perhaps not as well as I once did, but your distress is on your face. What happened? Does it have something to do with Kate?” Violet laid a gentle hand on her son’s arm and watched as he very nearly crumbled.

“Why must you assume that I am having problems with my marriage?” he asked petulantly. 

“Nothing else would drive you here in the middle of the night,” his mother pointed out. “If it were that urgent, you could have dealt with it at your home. And,” Violet looked a bit embarrassed to be admitting this, “I had a bit of a peculiar conversation with Kate earlier today.”

“Peculiar how?” Anthony asked with a raised eyebrow. Suddenly he was ravenously curious to find out what his wife had spoken with his mother about and if it had anything to do with her confession. Did his mother know what a dreadful position he was put into?

“Just rather unusual for Kate is all, dear,” Violet answered apathetically. “She was looking for a bit of advice, which is something I don’t believe she does very often.”

“No,” Anthony murmured. “She doesn’t often go to others with her problems.” He ached to know what Kate was looking for advice about, if only to make himself feel better, but his mother would never betray Kate’s confidence.

“I advised her that communication is a key aspect of marriage.” His mother turned her shrewd gaze onto him, and Anthony suddenly felt that his mother knew all of his secrets in a way that she had not in years. “I suppose I should probably advise you the same, considering you are here in the middle of the night. So I’ll ask you one more time, Anthony: what happened?”

“We had a bit of a tiff,” Anthony admitted quietly, feeling rather like he was Hyacinth’s age and not his own. “Perhaps a bit more communication would have been beneficial.”

His mother’s eyes said that she clearly did not believe him, but she would not push. “Anthony,” she said gently, “you need not close yourself off so much to your wife. Kate is a strong woman; whatever scares you so much, I assure you that she can handle it.”

He was a bit offended that his mother was quite so on the nose at exactly what was bothering him. Instead of answering, Anthony just kept his mouth firmly closed and shook his head in a way that was meant to end the conversation. 

Violet, though, was unperturbed by his actions. “You must speak to her,” she insisted. “You cannot expect to have a healthy marriage without communication.”

“We will speak, Mother,” Anthony told her shortly. “I very well can’t speak to her right now, can I? I will go back in the morning, and we’ll talk it out and be good as new by lunch time.” He actually rather doubted that, considering he was not sure how willing he was to talk it out, but his mother did not need to know that.

Violet still looked like she knew far too much about her child, but she finally stood from the settee and straightened her dressing gown. “Very well, then,” she said softly. “Please be honest about what is bothering you, Anthony. Kate can handle it. Maybe she can even help.” 

Anthony nodded once again, and Violet exited the room and closed the door quietly behind her. 

Once again, he was left alone, sitting on the settee and staring at the table in front of him. Anthony once thought he preferred it this way, quiet and alone. Now, however, he felt rather lonely. He missed Kate’s warmth beside him, her soft snores and her long hair that was nearly always in his face. 

Anthony kicked off his shoes and settled into the settee. It was going to be a long, restless night, but it would be no less than he deserved.

-

Morning came, and Kate was still alone.

She slept fitfully, unused to being the only one in the bed after several weeks of Anthony’s presence. It was a bit depressing, really, that her habits could change so much after so little time being married and she could no longer stand to sleep alone. 

Kate decided as she laid in bed staring at the ceiling that she was angry at Anthony. She was angry that she gave away some part of her heart and he ran away, but more importantly, she was angry that he would not speak to her. He would not give her back the trust she had shared with him, and for that reason she was seething.

Kate thought that she was a fairly forgiving and understanding person. In the few weeks they had been married, she knew that Anthony was holding something back and withholding himself from her, but they were newly married and both their lives had been altered majorly; she figured he deserved her understanding in that regard.

But running off after Kate had bared part of her heart? She felt that she deserved at least some measure of understanding, or at the very least a conversation.

So, as Kate dressed, she put on her anger as well, like an armor. She knew that Anthony would be back today, and if he was not, she would drag him from wherever he had hidden and would pester him until he listened to her conversation.

She was his wife, and she deserved that much. 

Kate found the breakfast room empty when she entered, save for the table filled with breakfast itself and the butler there to serve it. She waved the butler off nearly immediately, insisting she could fill her own plate just for the possibility of being alone. She hoped that Anthony would appear quickly during breakfast so that they could speak.

And arrive he did, though he was hiding behind the biggest bouquet of tulips Kate had seen yet.

“Tulips, my lord?” Kate asked with a wry grin when her husband entered, instead of a true greeting. Anthony placed the flowers down, neglecting the vase, and looked awkwardly toward his wife.

“Kate,” he said with a hint of tiredness. “An apology, for you. Our tulips. They are a small token, but I wanted a physical representation of how sorry I am.”

She looked at the large bouquet. It was certainly much grander than anything else Anthony had gotten her, and she thought some of the courting flowers had been far too grand. “It is too much,” she said finally. “But appreciated nonetheless. Shall we break our fast?” Kate made sure to give him a pointed look to ensure that he knew he was not off the hook quite yet.

They filled their plates quietly and ate even more quietly. Kate almost desperately wanted to break the silence, to convince Anthony to say something , but she stayed strong in her anger. She would not let him crawl into her good graces so easily; she needed some explanation.

When their plates were clear, Anthony finally looked up at her sheepishly. “Now, then?” he asked hesitantly. Kate nodded stiffly, and together they moved from the breakfast room to the sitting room, closing the door firmly to avoid being overheard.

Kate tried to maintain her stiff posture in the face of her husband, trying to maintain her strong countenance. Anthony sat across from her, slumped in his chair in the way he most often was, wringing his hands nervously.

“I’m sorry, Kate,” he said suddenly, turning his eyes from his hands onto her face. Kate was momentarily shocked by the emotion held in his brown eyes; he looked sorry, and broken, and something else entirely. His eyes shone. “I shouldn’t have run away last night. It was a mistake.”

Kate nodded her agreement, unsure of what she was meant to say now. All the words she had considered flew out the window with one glance of Anthony’s emotive eyes. “I was… shocked,” she said softly. That was not the first word she had thought to use, but it was what came out.

“I would have been, too,” Anthony agreed. “I spoke with my mother last night. I didn’t tell her what happened, but she seemed to have some inkling. She recommended that communication would do us a world of good.”

She just nodded again, as if this was something she did not already know.

“And I agree,” Anthony continued, finally seeming to be on a roll. “I want to be a good husband to you, Kate, and I was the exact opposite last night. I shouldn’t have run off; I should have stopped, and we could talk about it. I was caught a bit off guard, perhaps, but that is no justification.”

“And will we?” Kate asked quietly. “Talk about it, that is.”

Anthony swallowed very visibly. “If you would like,” he said, as if it physically ailed him.

Nevertheless, Kate pressed on. “Why did you run away, Anthony? Why did you run after I told you I love you?”

He remained quiet in his seat for a moment. His gaze had fallen back to his hands. “Mostly?” he said with a self-depricating smile. “I was shocked, and perhaps a bit afraid. I hold a great deal of affection for you, but I was not expecting you to say you loved me.”

“But surely you must have known,” Kate persisted. “I’m not exactly subtle, dear.”

“I know. I probably should have.” Anthony kept his eyes on his hands instead of her, and it hurt just the littlest bit. 

“Why were you afraid?” She needed to know. She needed to understand if it was something to do with her, if somehow she had portrayed herself falsely, if she gave him some cause for fear.

“It’s complicated,” Anthony answered in the tone a teenager may give to an adult whom they think could not possibly understand.

“Then uncomplicate it,” she snapped. Kate pushed herself up from her chair suddenly, unable to sit still and watch things fall apart in front of her. “I am your wife, Anthony Bridgerton. We are married . You cannot hide yourself from me and refuse to tell me anything.”

“I can’t explain this to you, Kate!” Anthony nearly yelled, pushing himself up too. “It has nothing to do with you, I assure you.”

“It doesn’t matter!” she yelled. “I can’t keep going on like this, Anthony! I cannot keep living my days not knowing why you avoid my presence. I cannot accept the fact that you have fears you won’t share with me. I am your wife, your partner. I thought you respected me more than this. I thought we wouldn’t have a typical ton marriage.”

“We don’t, we won’t,” Anthony said in a tone that was nearly a beg. “Kate, you are wonderful. You are the best thing I have, besides my own family, and I hold you in the highest regard. But I can’t share this with you, Kate. You should not have to deal with my silly fears.”

“Why are you not understanding? I want to deal with your fears, Anthony. I want to enjoy your happy and unhappy times. I want to be with you through everything. I don’t want a cold marriage. What happened to the joy of our courtship?”

“Kate,” Anthony called her name in a broken tone. He took one step toward her, reaching out his hand, but Kate stepped back.

“I love you,” she said softly. “I will stand by your side, and I will continue to love you for as long as I live. But I will not do this until you can find it in you to be honest with me.”

“Do this?” he croaked.

“Be my husband,” she clarified. “Be my partner, my love. I cannot be the only one fighting for our marriage, Anthony. I will not be.”

“Kate…”

“I will decline all invitations on our behalf for the near future,” Kate answered stiffly. She fixed her posture, moving to stand as straight as she could possibly manage. She placed back on her anger, piece by piece, until she felt like a different, stronger person. “Perhaps you should go back to Bridgerton House until you are ready to truly speak to me.”

Kate turned and began to walk from the room. She was cracking, she could tell; the last thing she wanted was to withhold herself from Anthony, but Kate Bridgerton knew it was exactly what she needed to do. She deserved the truth, and she knew that, eventually, Anthony would see sense and open himself to her. 

He had to.

“Kate, please,” he said one more time. Kate turned to see the tears shining in her husband’s dark brown eyes. She cracked a bit more.

“The truth, Anthony. All I want is the truth.” Her voice was soft and full of the love that poured from her heart, but Kate left the room anyway.

Chapter Text

This time, instead of sitting alone in his study at Bridgerton House, Anthony perched himself at his favorite table at his club, White’s, and drank to his heart’s desire. 

One could consider his actions far more sad this time around than the last, since he was drinking away his troubles both alone and in public, but Anthony could not bring himself to truly care. Instead, he continued to drink his favorite brandy at an alarming speed, and he glared at anyone who dared to even look in his direction.

Anthony Bridgerton, most definitely, had a problem.

He had, several brandys ago when he was more sober, accepted his haunting realization from the morning before. Despite his best efforts (but had he really tried), he loved Kate. He was so deeply in love with Kate that he could barely remember what his life had been before he loved her, even though it was only a few short weeks ago. He wanted to spend the rest of his days, however long they may be, proving that he loved her in every way he knew how.

The problem was that his days were rather numbered.

How did he explain that to Kate? How was he meant to tell her that he loved her but it hardly mattered anyway because they likely only had a few short years to spend together?

He could not bring himself to. Every time he opened his mouth, trying to rehearse the words aloud so perhaps they would sound less insane, Anthony’s throat closed and his eyes welled and he realized he was so bloody afraid of dying he did not know what to do with himself.

Anthony, remarkably, had never been afraid of dying until this very moment.

He had accepted it, embraced it even. As the eldest Bridgerton son, it was his duty to carry on the title and job of Viscount Bridgerton. It was his joy to provide for his family, to ensure that they could live the lives that they deserved. And it was his destiny to die before he reached the age of forty, just as his father had done before him.

Anthony was good at these things. He was a phenomenal viscount, carrying for his tenants and managing his accounts to the utmost of his powers. Everything he did was even and fair, and he was only ever firm when the moment called for nothing else. He was successful at carrying for his family, and in his last ten years as the head had nearly doubled their coffers, ensuring that they could continue to live the lives they wanted. 

But he knew that despite these great things his father was still far greater. Anthony was no cold man, but Edmund was full of a warmth and light that he could never compare to. He loved, and he loved hard, and any of Anthony’s attempts would be futile. He could provide for his family in a monetary sense and be the backbone they occasionally needed, but he could never be the shining sun to which everyone else gravitated. Anthony could not be the love of someone’s life; he was not even sure he knew how.

Yet Kate loved him. She loved him fiercely. And Anthony wanted so desperately to be worthy of that love.

But as he sat in White’s, downing drink after drink as the sun sank in the sky, he was not sure he knew how to be.

The first step would be to get out of his chair. Go home. Fall to his knees and tell Kate every thought he had ever had and beg her to understand. Beg her to take him back and love him and make him feel, for just a second, like he was not a broken man.

Anthony felt whole with Kate. It was nice.

But he was not sure how to do that. Every time Anthony attempted to get up, it was like his fear glued him to his seat. He did not know how to push himself up around the fear.

Kate could push him away once he confessed his thoughts. She could not want to love a man who would leave her in a few short years, and Anthony would not blame her for it. He would respect her, even, for being able to set aside her feelings in a way that he would never be able to.

Anthony suppressed a groan, and he tried to push himself up from his chair once again, but his limbs would not work.

“Brother!” two voices shouted from across the club. Anthony barely raised his head from his glass, already knowing the chaos that those voices had in store. 

“Benedict, Colin,” he grumbled, slouching in his chair. He finally looked up as chairs scrapped against the ground, watching as Colin sat down rather inelegantly and Benedict feigned decency for only a moment before beginning to lean his chair back onto two legs. “What brings the two of you here?”

Benedict’s eyes dropped to the empty glass in Anthony’s hand and then rose back to his brother’s. “Not quite the same thing as you, I imagine,” he snorted.

“And what do you mean by that?” Anthony asked defensively.

Colin picked up a handful of walnuts from the table with one hand and the cracker with his other. “You’re moping, Anthony. Mother told us we could probably find you here.”

“I’m not moping,” the eldest brother grumbled like a child. “And how did Mother know that I would be here?”

“I believe Kate had tea with her and the girls earlier,” Benedict told him. “Mother inferred from Kate’s mood that the two of you had had a tiff.”

Anthony felt a little upset that Kate had immediately run to his mother in the aftermath of their argument, but he really could not blame her. Mary and Edwina knew her far too well; they would suspect that something had happened and would push her until she admitted it. Violet Bridgerton, though she already loved Kate as if she were her daughter, would not push Kate to talk about anything. Rather, she would do exactly what Anthony suspected she did: send her sons to prod until Anthony admitted something.

“So did you?” Colin asked rather obnoxiously through a mouthful of walnut. The action was designed to be annoying, Anthony was sure. Violet permitted a lot of nonsense from her children, but bad manners in public was not one of them. Colin swallowed, then clarified, “Have a tiff, I mean. Did Anthony and Kate have their first fight?”

“It wasn’t a fight, per say, but we did get into it, yes.” Anthony crossed his arms across his chest. He hated having to talk about any sort of weakness with his brothers. He was meant to be the strong one of the family, the one to which everyone else could look to as an example. Now, Anthony only felt like an example for what his siblings should not do. 

“What happened, Anthony?” Benedict asked softly. And as much as Anthony loved his brother for knowing when to push and prod and needle and knowing when it was time to just ask , Anthony desperately did not want to share what was on his mind. 

“I…” he trailed off, wringing his hands. “I don’t really know, Benedict.”

“Explain it to us, then,” Colin said decisively. “Maybe it will make more sense then.”

Anthony was still hesitant, but he let it spill out of him. He neglected to mention what would be the circumstances of his death, but he explained his reticence to let Kate in, to allow his wife to love him and him to love her. He tried his best to describe the first weeks of their marriage, how he tried so hard to stay out of Kate’s orbit but how she drew him in anyway.

Anthony finally let the words of his feelings fall from his lips, feeling them physically in the air. He felt his love for Kate, her strength and independence and her quiet moments for him and him alone, fill the air of White’s until he felt like bursting. It was past time, he realized, for these words to meet the air.

Kate was the kind of person who deserved to be loved wholly and openly. She gave so much for everyone else around her, pulling bits and pieces of herself off in order to make sure that everyone else was content. She lived and sacrificed for her family in a way that Anthony had not known outside himself. Kate bared her soul and shared herself in a way that took his breath away, and Anthony realized he could not love a person more if he tried.

Kate made him want to be better, he realized. She made him want to be the kind of person she deserved, because Lord knew that she deserved someone so much better than whatever he could give her. But he wanted to try. Anthony wanted to be the everything to her that she had quickly become to him.

“I love her,” Anthony whispered, letting the words expand until they filled his chest.

“Then why are you still here?” Colin asked with a sly smile on his face. “Go, tell her.”

“I cannot.” He shook his head. “It’s too complicated. There are things you don’t know or understand.”

“Then simplify it, Anthony,” Benedict urged him, eerily mimicking the words said to him not too long ago. “Kate is a big girl. She can make her own decisions. Who knows why, but she seems to like you quite a bit, brother. You should let her decide if this is all worth it or not.” 

For a second, Anthony had the idea that perhaps Benedict did in fact know what the root of all his fears was. Though his relationships with his siblings varied greatly, Anthony would always be closest with Benedict. They had been each other’s only playmates for nearly five years. No one knew him quite like Benedict.

“Maybe you’re right,” Anthony pondered for a moment, staring into the bottom of his glass. He sat that for a moment, wondering if there was anything else he needed to do that day, before pushing himself up suddenly. “I have to go,” he said, although those were not the words he planned to allow out of his mouth.

“We figured as much,” Colin answered with a smirk.

Benedict, for the first time since he sat down, set his chair back on all four legs. “Go, Anthony,” he said in a gentle tone. “Go to your wife. We’ll see you in what, a week or so?”

“Make it two,” Anthony answered with a cheeky grin. He turned his back on his brothers, listening to them snicker to each other as he left the club.

-

“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Anthony’s voice came out as a frightful shout. Contrary to his usual stoic disposition, his butler’s mouth dropped open.

“Lady Bridgerton left some time ago,” he finally stammered out. “Her sister required an escort.”

“Do you have any idea where she went?” Anthony demanded. He wanted to place his hands on his hips, but that felt far too childish. “I need to speak with her immediately.”

“I believe Lady Bridgerton went to Hyde Park. She did not shar more than that.” 

“Right,” Anthony muttered, “Right. Well, I need to find her then.”

“Shall I prepare a carriage, my lord?” The butler asked, having finally regaiend his composure. 

“Yes, do,” Anthony urged. Then, watching his butler slowly meandering his way toward the door, he changed his mind. “No,” he said sternly. “I will prepare a horse myself.”

The viscount, in what was surely his most sophisticated manner, charged from the house toward the stables and his horse, all so that he may reach his wife that much faster.

He mounted his horse at the stables and tried to keep a moderate pace as he trotted through the streets of Mayfair, but it was difficult. He was sure to appear in Whistledown the next day for his actions, but Anthony could not bring himself to care. His careful pace quickly turned into a trot which turned into a run, until Anthony and his horse were practically sprinting through Mayfair.

But Anthony reached Hyde Park and realized very quickly that he had no way to find Kate. He did not know where she would walk; if she were alone, or with Newton, Kate was much more likely to take a more secluded path in order to stay away from the busy bodies of the ton . If she was supervising Edwina, things became a bit more tricky. Propriety would call for their staying on the well-trod paths, but with an escort, Edwina and her suitor could go nearly wherever they wanted. If they were taking a curricle, it would be easier to narrow the location down.

Anthony slowed his horse from its run, trotting into the more populated area of the park and hoping to spot his wife’s gleaming hair. He knew, no matter how far away he was, he would be able to spot Kate. It was like a sixth sense that he had developed in the recent weeks; he felt Kate’s absence like a missing limb, and he knew once he was near her he would feel whole again.

“Lord Bridgerton!” he heard a familiar voice yell. Anthony just barely stopped himself from riding away with a groan, but instead he turned his horse and looked down at the woman who yelled at him.

“Lady Danbury,” he greeted with a grimace. “And how are you on this fine afternoon?”

“Tired. Why are you not with your wife?” Lady Danbury demanded, swiping her cane along the ground. Anthony was sure if he had not been on his horse that she would have taken out his ankles.

“She’s acting as an escort for her sister, I’ve been told,” Anthony informed her. Then, a little desperately, “You haven’t happened to have seen her, have you?”

“Of course I saw her!” Lady Danbury exclaimed with another swipe of her cane. “That’s why I was wondering why you were not with her. She looked awfully lonely, escorting her sister and whatever his name is.”

Anthony had no idea whom Edwina might be on a promenade with, but he did not admit that. “Might I inquire where you saw them last, Lady Danbury? I’m afraid I need an audience with Lady Bridgerton rather immediately.”

“Hmmph,” Lady Danbury hugged, looking Anthony over for any sign of deceit. He could tell that she knew something was amiss, but Lady Danbury (for once, Anthony thought thankfully) did not poke and prod. Instead, she simply told him. “I believe Miss Edwina’s Mr. Bagwell was readying his curricle when I saw them. I imagine they’re riding along Rotten Row, with the rest.”

“Thank you, Lady Danbury,” Anthony said truthfully. “I beg your pardon, but I really must find my wife. Bagwell, you say?”

Lady Danbury nodded, though the suspicion in her eyes rose. “Go find your wife, Lord Bridgerton. Though I hope you know that I will be requesting an explanation for your strange behavior next time we see each other.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Anthony responded solemnly. He turned his horse away from Lady Danbury, toward the curricles making their way across Rotten Row, when he saw something peculiar. 

One curricle was quickly outstripping the rest, riding along Rotten Row at a pace that was decidedly unsafe. Anthony watched as it scraped against another curricle and pushed itself onto two wheels for just a moment, and he nearly scoffed at the irresponsibility of its driver. Why bother with a curricle if you ould not drive it properly?

He nearly scoffed, because as the curricle rose up onto two of its wheels, Anthony heard a very distinctive and unforgettable yip come from inside.

“No,” Anthony whispered, if only to himself. The yip was very distinctively Newton, which meant that Kate was inside the curricle that was currently charging down Rotten Row at a speed that could only predict disaster.

Anthony nudged his horse into movement, trying to think of some way that he would be able to stop the curricle before disaster struck. He could not simply run his horse in front and force it to stop, but perhaps if he called out, or if he ran fast enough to catch Bagwell’s attention - 

But Anthony’s plan was shortlived. He could do nothing but watch in horror as the curricle took a curve far too quickly, tipped onto two legs, and then crashed down to the ground, splittering. 

He nudged his horse from a run to a sprint. Anthony had to make it to the curricle, but he was afraid of what he might see when it approached. Would Kate be alright? Would the damage be too much?

Anthony pulled his horse to a stop just as Edwina was crawling from the curricle with Newton in tow. She looked a little worse for wear but mostly unharmed.

“Edwina!” Anthony exclaimed breathlessly. He jumped down from his horse and pulled Edwina close by the shoulders, checking her over first for any visible injuries. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright, just a little stunned,” Edwina assured. “Mr. Bagwell is alright, too. He got thrown, but he seems to be okay.”

“And Kate?” Anthony nearly demanded, looking for any sign that his wife was crawling from the wreckage like her sister had.

“I don’t know,” Edwina whispered, wringing her hands. “She wasn’t moving, and she looked like she was stuck under something.”

Anthony’s stomach dropped, but he straightened his shoulders. “Right,” he said. Despite his panic, he tried to put himself back together to deal with the situation. He would be no help if he were a whimpering mess. “Right, Edwina, can you untie the horses?” They needed to be dealt with first, so that they did not begin dragging the curricle and cause even more damage. 

“I can,” Edwina confirmed. “It may take me a little longer than it would someone else, but I can get them off.”

“See if your Mr. Bagwell is able to help you,” Anthony said almost absentmindedly. He quickly shrugged off his coat and rolled his sleeves up. “I’ll get Kate out.”

Edwina nodded and set to her task, while Anthony stood over the curricle for just a moment to get his bearings. One side was completely crushed against the ground, but the top of the curricle was destroyed enough that he could pull a few scraps of wood away and have a proper opening. 

Desperately, Anthony began yanking at the wood. Thankfully, curricles were made of light wood, meant for settings exactly like this, quiet park rides. It was easy enough to create an opening big enough to fit his shoulders through, and Anthony shoved himself through to get a better look.

Kate laid on her side against the ground. Her chest was rising and falling softly, at a rate that made Anthony breathe a giant sigh of relief. She was alive, at the very least. That was something. Her hair was a little loose from the impact, and Anthony could see a small cut on her forehead but no other visible damage.

He grimaced. Anthony did not know much about medicine or injuries, but he knew that she could still have any number of other injuries that rendered her unconscious.

“Oh, Kate,” he whispered, trying to tamp down his panic. It was rising within him as it did when he saw the bee sting her, nearly impossible to ignore and even more difficult to work through. “You can’t leave me, Kate. It isn’t your time. It isn’t supposed to be you.”

Pieces of wood covered Kate and obscured most of the bottom half of her body, so Anthony shoved himself through the hole in the curricle and began moving the debris off of her. All the while, he knew he was muttering complete nonsense, but speaking to Kate, even though she could not hear him, seemed to be the only thing that could keep his panic at bay.

“Why did you get in this stupid thing, Kate?” he nearly cursed. “I knew you were angry at me, but this is a whole new level of ignoring me. Did you know I was coming to tell you that I love you? Were you that desperate to get a leg up on me?” Anthony very nearly chuckled because it seemed exactly like Kate to get into an accident just so she could ignore her husband that much more. Punish him for his idiocy just that much more.

Anthony pushed the last piece of wood off Kate and was thankful to see that there was no more physical damage. Kate was still unconscious, but she wasn’t that heavy, and Anthony figured he could likely pull her out of the curricle without needing her to be alert.

“I love you, Kate,” Anthony said desperately, brushing the hair out of his face. “You can’t leave me, not when I’ve just found you. It isn’t your time. It was always supposed to be me first, love. Please, just wake up. I love you.” For the first time, he let his tears fall, just for a moment. He would let himself cry for just a minute, then pull Kate from the wreckage and assess what needed to be done next.

Then, Kate, who up until this moment had been silent and still as death, moved. Her eyes shot open and her hand grasped onto Anthony’s wrist. “What the devil are you on about?” she demanded in a voice that was definitely a croak but still sounded so strong.

“Kate!” Anthony gasped, nearly pulling her into a hug but stopping himself. “Are you alright? What hurts?”

“My leg,” she grimaced, “and my head, a bit. But other than that, absolutely chipper. Now what were you muttering about?”

Anthony very nearly rolled his eyes. Trust Kate to be more concerned with what he was saying than the fact that she was currently trapped inside a crushed curricle. “How about I tell you once we get you out, darling. I’m going to have to pull you.”

“Do it, then,” she said determindedly. “But we will be talking later.”

“Love, I assure you,” Anthony started, “I will never be leaving your side again. Arms up, please.”

With that, he tightened his arms under Kate’s armpits and began to pull. It was a slow process. Anthony stopped nearly every time Kate shouted in pain, worrying over her but knowing there was nothing he could do other than keep pulling. Finally, after what felt like hours, he pulled Kate completely free from the wreckage and held her in his arms, facing Edwina, the man who must be Mr. Bagwell, and Lady Danbury, who had made her way over to the disaster.

“Put me down, Anthony,” Kate said, swatting at his chest. “I’m alright, just a bit sore.”

Anthony acquiesed, but he kept his arm tightly around her waist. The promenading ton may think him scandalous, but he was nowhere near ready to let Kate move from the safety of his arms.

“Oh,” Kate said in a peculiar tone as she was set down. “Maybe I’m not quite as good as I thought.”

“Kate?” Edwina and Anthony asked, simultaneously and in equally anxious tones. 

“Edwina, are you alright?” Kate asked instead, turning to her sister.

“Yes, a little battered and bruised, but I’m alright,” Edwina answered, slowly reaching for Kate.

“Good,” Kate muttered, nodding to herself. “Anthony? Catch me, please.”

Anthony only had a moment of confusion before Kate fell into a dead faint in his arms. 

Chapter Text

After the three doctors Anthony had called all proclaimed Kate’s leg broken, and after her leg was set by one of the three doctors (though Anthony insisted that the other two supervise), and after their home was emptied of all familial relations, Kate and Anthony were finally alone. 

She knew that they likely needed to talk abotu everything that happened in the last few days, but Kate was so tired. The day was long and full of excruciating emotions, and her leg ached in a way she had never felt before. All Kate really wanted was to eat just a bit (because she missed lunch during her unconsciousness) and for Anthony to hold her while she slept. 

Anthony, for his own part, would come nowhere near her. He hovered like a mother hen, fluffing her pillows and holding her tea for her. At first, his reaction was sweet, but now Kate was annoyed by his hovering.

“Would you stop?” Kate demanded after Anthony began adjusting the pillows behind her head for what felt like the millionth time. After seeing the shocked look on his face, she added a quick, “Please?”

Anthony froze in his place by her bed, his back stiffening. “Right,” he muttered to himself. His eyes would not meet hers. “I’ll go, then. You probably want your rest.”

He leaned down toward her, presumably to place a quick kiss on her forehead before he left, but Kate caught his hand. “I didn’t say that,” she told him softly. “I asked you to stop hovering like a nervous mother hen. I am okay, Anthony. I’m here, with you. Just sit for a moment, please.”

Anthony nodded and took a seat on the bed next to her. Her hand stayed held tightly in hers, running his thumb over the back of her hand softly. “We should probably talk, shouldn’t we?” he asked hesitantly.

“Probably,” Kate agreed. She let herself sink down into her pillows just a bit more, then turned her head toward him. “But I don’t want to right now. Do you?”

Anthony shook his head. “I just want to stay here with you right now.”

“Then let’s stay for today,” she decided. “I want something to eat, and then I want you to hold me for the rest of the night.”

“Darling, your leg-”

“I’m not going to break, Anthony,” Kate said firmly. “Ring for some food. Then you’re going to sit back down with me.”

He still looked hesitant, but Anthony quietly agreed and moved to the bell pull to alert a servant about their food then settled back down next to his wife. This time, rather than perch on the edge of the bed, he sat down directly beside her, though his arms remained firmly at his sides.

Irritated, Kate yanked one of his arms from his side and around her. “Once again, I’m not going to break, dear. You need to trust me.”

“I do, I promise,” Anthony told her softly. He allowed his arm to tighten around her, just for a moment. “I just can’t help it.”

“Maybe we should talk about it.” She looked up at him and saw the emotion welling in his eyes. “Tell me what you’re feeling, Anthony.”

Her husband shook his head again, then stopped. Releasing his arm from around her, Anthony turned his whole body until he was facing her and took both her hands in his. Kate tried her best to turn toward him as well, but the elevation of her leg and the worried look in his eyes stopped her.

“I love you,” Anthony whispered. Kate’s mouth dropped open at the devotion in his voice. His eyes shone with unshed tears, and not for the first time, Kate wondered how she had gotten so lucky with this man. “I promise you that I will explain everything to you tomorrow or whenever you’re ready, but I need you to know that I love you so much, Kate. I don’t know when you became my whole world, but you are, and I promise I’ll never leave your side again.”

“That’s a little dramatic, love,” she croaked. Kate knew that she had tears streaming down her face too, but she was too overcome to think much about it. “I love you, too.”

“You know what I mean,” Anthony said with a roll of eyes. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness for everything I’ve done, Kate, but I swear I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. I don’t know how I fooled myself for so long. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

Kate shook her head. “I’ve already forgiven you, darling. You forget that I know you. I may not always know exactly what is going on in that head of yours,” she raised her hand to run it through his hair, “but I know your intentions. And I know your feelings, no matter how hard you try to hide them.”

Anthony looked at her, shocked, for a moment. Then he leaned in carefully, so as not to jostle her, and placed his lips on hers. It was a soft kiss, and perhaps a little wet from the tears that were running down both of their faces, but it was enough to warm Kate’s heart. “I don’t deserve you,” Anthony whispered against her lips. “I love you so much.”

“You do.” She pulled back enough to see his face and spoke fiercely. “I don’t know why you think you aren’t deserving of love, but you should have it and so much more. I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

A few more tears fell from Anthony’s eyes as he kissed her again. This time, it was anything but soft. His lips moved passionately against hers, and his hand tightly grasped the back of her head, entangling itself in her hair. Anthony pressed himself as close as he could get without irritating Kate’s leg, and she reveled in how complete she felt with Anthony close to her.

When they finally had to break for breath, Kate laughed against her husband’s lips. “I think that’s enough of that,” she whispered cheekily. “The doctors said no vigorous activity for at least a month, I believe.”

Anthony let out a small whine. “I can be gentle,” he insisted, moving his hand from her hair to her waist. “I can be very gentle.”

She could not help but laugh again. “Later, perhaps,” she whispered, placing one more soft kiss on his lips. “For now, let’s just sit, shall we? I’m too hungry and tired for much more.”

“Of course, darling,” Anthony agreed immediately. Somehow, his touch turned from sensual to gentle, and Kate’s heart sang.

Eventually, a servant brought up a dinner tray, and Kate was momentarily thrown back to several nights before, when they had sat in this very spot, laughing and feeding each other until she had nearly ruined it with her words. But that was then, and this was now, and she was helpless under Anthony’s bright grin and loving eyes.

The night ended as the previous one had not: with Anthony’s soft smile, gentle hands, and whispered confessions of love. His lips were soft against hers as he promised a life of love and laughter, and his touch was light as he wiped the sweat from her skin. Changing for the night was out of the question, but neither of them minded. 

Careful of Kate’s leg, Anthony wrapped himself around her and kissed promises down her shoulder. He would be kind, he would be honest, he would never leave again.

Loving her would be the first and most important thing he did each day.

Kate knew that tomorrow they would talk. Tomorrow would bring another upheaval of emotions, but tonight, she had Anthony, and she would never be without him again.

-

The morning dawned with Kate alone in bed. For a moment, she panicked. Had Anthony, after all his promises the night before, left? Her eyes shot open and her hand flailed to the opposite side of the bed as she tried not to move her stiff leg. It still held some of the warmth from Anthony’s body, but Kate was a bit dismayed to find him gone.

Distinctly, Kate wondered how she was even meant to get up. She could not call for her ladies’ maid from her position in the bed; all she could do was pull herself into a sitting position and hope that eventually her maid got the cue to come rescue her. 

Shifting, she pushed herself up into a seated position. Her leg, if even possible, ached even worse this morning. She felt dirty and gross and desperately wanted a bath, but that was yet another thing that Kate would not be able to do without help.

Kate knew that she was pouting. With her arms crossed over her chest and her anger brewing, she knew she likely looked like a small child. But Kate hated depending on people for basic necessities more than anything. She was a grown woman; she should be able to bathe and dress herself! With a broken leg, though, she was stuck.

Almost imperceptibly, the bedchamber door drifted open. Kate saw first bright orange blooms, then a tuft of chestnut hair that belonged undeniably to her husband. Anthony continued to push the door open slowly, quietly, as if trying not to wake her.

“Anthony,” she greeted him softly when his face finally came into view. “Good morning. I was wondering where you went.”

He looked a bit sheepish. “Good morning, love. I sent my valet out to the florist while I looked over some accounts. I got these for you.”

Kate took the tulips gingerly into her hands. “Our flowers,” she said, smiling up at him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen any tulips, my lord.”

“Mayfair’s florists have been suspiciously low on stock,” Anthony answered with a blush, “but they finally received enough for a bouquet for the finest woman in the city. I think I’ll try to keep some blooms in here to brighten up the room during your confinement.”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears at his thoughtfulness. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.” She looked down at the blooms in her hands, toying with the stems. “These are so lovely.”

“I considered getting one bloom for each day we’ve known each other, but that was too big an ask for the florist,” Anthony admitted as he sat on the edge of the bed at her side. “I don’t know how many there are, but there aren’t quite enough.”

“Well, they’re beautiful regardless,” she answered firmly. Kate turned her eyes from the flowers over to her husband, who was looking at her with such open admiration. “I was hoping you could call my maid for me. I should like a bath and a new dress, I believe.”

“Are you sure you should be bathing?” Anthony asked hesitantly. “I don’t see how that could be good for your leg. That’s a lot of movement.”

Kate waved him off. “We will figure it out, I’m sure. Will you call for her, and perhaps ask Cook to have breakfast ready in an hour or so? I will meet you in the breakfast room.”

Her husband shook his head at that. “The doctor said no strenuous movements,” he reminded her. “Walking qualifies. I will call your maid, but we will take breakfast here. Perhaps I can get a small table and chairs brought in. Maybe a larger desk so that I can work here with you.”

Anthony went to stand, but she caught his hand. “That is really not necessary, Anthony. I’m sure I can make it to the breakfast room. And there is no need to put a desk here, though we do have the room.”

“Nonsense,” he disagreed. “We can make a decision later. But this morning, the tray is being brought up to you. I will call your maid and go to my study until you’re ready.” Anthony placed a light kiss on her cheek, unable to stop smiling. “I’m sure she will only be a few minutes. I’ll see you soon.”

Despite it being only a small period of separation, Kate still felt his absence. After her ladies’ maid arrived, Kate realized that a bath in their current copper tub was out of the question. She could not manuver her leg without an intense amount of pain. She sufficed with another quick scrub down, and then she and her maid set upon the laborious task of getting her dressed.

It was extremely difficult to stand long enough to properly don the dress. Kate had to take periodic breaks in the comfortable chair in her dressing room, inclining her leg and allowing herself a moment to breathe. For the first time, she was grateful for the confinement her leg allowed her; no one but family would dare to come visit, and while she hated for anyone to see her in a state of disarray, that meant she did not need to look exactly like the presentable viscountess she was. Rather, Kate could wear loose dresses and forgo a corset and rigid hairstyles. She could just be Kate , someone she had missed in her first few weeks of marriage.

True to her word, it was nearly an hour before she limped her way back into their bedchamber, allowing her maid to carry most of her weight. Anthony sat in a chair by the window reading a copy of the London Times and trying (and failing) to keep the worry from his eyes as he watched his wife limp toward the bed.

“How was your-” he started kindly before Kate groaned and interrupted him.

“No bath,” she answered with a grimace, settling back against the pillows. She thanked her maid quickly before turning back to Anthony. “Our current tub doesn’t allow for much manuvering on my part, I’m afraid.”

“Then I shall find a new one,” Anthony answered casually. “What do you think would work better?”

She paused. “I don’t think you need to purchase an entirely new tub, Anthony. I’ll figure it out.”

Anthony set his newspaper down in his lap and looked at Kate directly. “Kate, just let me solve this problem for you. I want to do it.” He got up from his chair and took back his place by her side. “We don’t need to argue about everything. Let me help.”

“But I like arguing,” Kate said weakly. A kitchen maid knocked quietly on their bedchamber door, weighed down by a rather hefty breakfast tray. She placed it down gently on the bed between them and closed the door behind her.

Once the maid was gone, Anthony spoke again. “I do too,” he said softly, “but not when it comes to your well-being. The doctors said your leg may not be fully healed until the end of the year. We can purchase a new tub and anything else that will make your life easier. It will be okay.”

Kate knew that he was right, but she still sighed rather dramatically and turned her attention to the breakfast tray, rather than acquiesing. When she finally turned back to Anthony, after observing her breakfast choices, he had a smug smile on his face.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. The pair spoke only when necessary, both happy but hesitant about what conversations might come next. Kate’s appetite was voracious, and before she was aware, the large breakfast tray was clean, and Anthony was looking at her with hesitant eyes. 

She set her utensils down softly on the plate, and Anthony moved the tray from the bed to the hallway so that a servant could retrieve it. “I suppose we should talk about what happened,” Kate prompted, though she did not really want to. She was happy to continue living in the oblivious bubble she had been in the last night, but putting it off any longer, she knew, would just cause more problems.

“Right,” Anthony said, settling himself back on the bed next to her. He sat next to her, legs crossed over one another, and took a deep breath. “Right, okay. I know you’re going to have a lot of opinions about what I tell you,” he gave her a boyish smile, “but I need you not to interrupt, okay? I’ll lose my nerve if you begin to poke fun at me.”

“I would never,” Kate answered with a smile, only half joking.

“Sure.” Anthony let his eyes roam over his wife’s face for just a moment, taking her in for just a moment. He let himself take in the sound of their breaths; Kate was here, she was okay. “Alright. The night my father died, I think something changed in me.”

“Well, of course it did-” Kate immediately interrupted. She caught herself, though, and clamped a hand down over her mouth with sheepish eyes.

He could not help but laugh. “I love you,” he told her, and he let the words fill the room. They were true, and they were what was holding him together at the moment. Anthony placed a small kiss on her forehead. “Something changed in me, because I knew when he died that I would die, too. My father and my uncle both died before they reached forty, and I knew that I would, too.

“My father was the greatest person I knew. He knew exactly who he was and what he was born to do. He knew how to balance his duties and was the perfect father and perfect viscount. I understood then and now that there is no way I’ll ever match my father in anything, much less surpass him, not even in years.”

Anthony paused to take a breath, but in true Kate fashion she interrupted again. “Anthony, you must know that isn’t true.”

He gave her an exasperated look. “ Anyway ,” he started, “when my father died, it absolutely destroyed my mother. Hyacinth hadn’t even been born yet, and suddenly she was left with seven children to care for completely without her husband. My parents were so in love; I don’t think either of them had ever, ever considered that something like that would ever happen. So he died, and she didn’t know what to do or how to move on.

“My mother was consumed by her grief for years . My siblings had just lost their father, and they quickly lost their mother, too. I did my best, but it nearly tore our family apart, Kate. And I saw, first hand, just how horrible my mother’s grief was. She cried on my shoulder for months, she was barely able to look any of us in the face. It was horrible.

“So I told myself that love would have no place in my marriage. I needed a wife, and heirs, but I did not need someone to love. I can’t be the reason for someone’s grief, Kate. I’m going to die, probably soon, and I can’t destroy someone’s life like my father destroyed my mother’s.”

Across from him, tears were falling down Kate’s face. Anthony took her hand with a soft smile.

“But then I met you. And you came into my life and knocked down every defense I’ve ever had, and I think maybe I’ve loved you since I first saw you. I’m sorry for constantly dismissing my affection for you, because you deserve all the love in the world, Kate.”

“Anthony,” she whispered. He shook his head.

“I’m not done,” he told her with a watery smile. “I still cannot be the cause of your grief, but I know now that that is your choice to make, not mine. You chose to love me, despite whatever may happen, and I have to respect the fact that it’s your decision how you may respond to my death. I know that you aren’t my mother.

“I’m still so afraid,” his voice came out as a whisper, “but all I can do now is live with it. I want to be with you always, Kate. I want to be your husband and your lover and the father of your children. I want to show you every day how amazing you are and how much you deserve to be loved. And if you let me, I will. Okay, now I’m finished.”

Kate laughed at him again and grasped his hand in hers. “Okay,” she smiled gently, “I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“I don’t think something like our parents’ deaths determines our own. By that logic, I would be dead alright, wouldn’t I? My mother died when she was nineteen,” Kate pointed out kindly. 

Anthony shooken his head vehemently. “You’re never allowed to die, Kate,” he said with a hint of desperation.

“But I will,” she answered gently, squeezing his hand. “I could have died yesterday, in fact. I could die tomorrow. And you will be okay when it happens, Anthony. You can grieve and cry to your heart’s content, but you’re a strong man, and you will survive. And I know that if I leave behind our family, you will be able to care for them. You have to trust me with that, too.”

“I do,” he told her fiercely. “I do trust you to do that.”

“It’s okay to be afraid. I’m afraid, too, of a lot of things. But we need to deal with it together. I don’t believe you’ll die before you’re forty just because your father did, but I don’t see any way for you to know that until your fortieth birthday. So we’ll just live with that fear together, shall we?”

“I love you,” Anthony told her, leaning forward to kiss her. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Kate hummed against his lips. “I don’t know either, honestly,” she replied once he pulled away. “I love you, too.”

Ahead of them, there would be many more arguments, tears, and cold shoulders. But there would also be many, many kisses and nights spent making up and so much love that both of them thought they might burst with it. They knew what they had, now, and neither Kate nor Anthony ever planned to let go. 

Chapter Text

By all accounts, Kate Bridgerton loved her husband. He was the light of her life, the center of her world, all those cheesy things.

But oh , was she going to kill him.

Everything hurt. Her body felt like it was ripping itself apart trying to give birth to his monstrous spawn, and Anthony was the one who decided to faint? She would laugh, if she was not a bit worried and very much in labor.

Throughout her entire pregnancy, Anthony was a mother hen; he was kind and attentive and very much overprotective. In the last month, he had hardly let her move from bed without good reason. Kate adored all his affection, even the overbearing misplaced bits, but really, he had gone too far.

And since her labor had begun that morning, he had grown even worse. She considered banning him from their chamber, but Violet reminded her kindly that she would likely miss his presence (Violet was right, but Kate refused to admit it). 

Anthony paced, and he groaned, and he muttered under his breath while wringing his hands until Kate was ready to jump from the bed and wring his neck. She was only stopped by her love for him (and Violet Bridgerton).

Normally, her husband’s anxieties over her well-being were pleasant and endearing. But today, as her body prepared itself to birth a child that felt far larger than what could be natural, Anthony’s own nervousness grinded against her own.

So it was not the most unwelcome thing when, once she began pushing, her husband took one glance below the blankets and hit the floor in a dead faint.

Kate’s reaction was probably not the best. She groaned, loudly, and shouted “Anthony Bridgerton!” in her most irritated tone. It was not the kindest she had ever been to her husband, but she felt like he deserved it a bit then, because it was not as if she could stop what she was doing and check on him.

Violet, instead, rushed to his side. Mary kept hold of Kate’s other hand but glanced over her to Anthony on the floor. “Is he alright?” Mary asked quickly.

“He’ll be fine,” Violet brushed off. “He didn’t hit his head on anything it appears. Edmund did this as well when Anthony was born. It’s awfully inconvenient.”

“Can someone wake him up?” Kate panted. “I would hate for him to miss the birth of his monstrous child.” She groaned again as another wave came over her.

“I have smelling salts in my bag,” the doctor proclaimed, leaving the foot of the bed for the bag. Kate let her eyes follow the doctor for a moment. She then leaned over the bed to look at Anthony on the floor.

“His father did this too?” she asked Violet dryly. Her mother-in-law had a sly smile on her face.

“Only the first time,” she confirmed. “He learned quickly to stay by my head. I was rather annoyed, too.”

Kate nodded her head and let it fall back against the pillows. She was exhausted. It felt like she had been pushing for hours, though it had only been minutes, and as much as she wanted to kill Anthony for deciding to have a moment during her labor, she really wanted her husband to hold her hand and brush her hair from her face and promise that it would be okay.

Even if it was annoying.

Once the smelling salts were procured, it only took a moment to revive Anthony. His eyes blinked wide as Kate pushed her way through another contraction, and soon enough he was back at her side, brushing back her hair as she let tears fall from her eyes.

“You’re an ass, did you know?” Kate asked him, disregarding their mothers who surely would take issue with her language.

“I’m sorry, love,” Anthony told her as he placed a small kiss on her forehead. “You can call me whatever you want. I’m sure I deserve it.”

“Just please don’t do it again,” Kate said through gritted teeth. “Is this ever going to end?”

“I can see the head, Lady Bridgerton,” the doctor confirmed in his monotone voice. “A few more big pushes and you shall have your child.”

“You’re doing so great, darling,” Anthony encouraged, squeezing her hand.

Kate let her head fall back against the pillow and took a deep breath, preparing herself. “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered, only half to herself.

“You’ve come this far,” her husband whispered back fiercely. “I fainted. Don’t you want to tell people how you best your husband in everything, including while birthing your child?”

Kate could not help but laugh, even as it turned into a near-scream as she pushed again. “I suppose I have to keep going, if only to tell your brothers how undignified you were.”

“That’s the spirit,” Anthony encouraged.

After what felt like hours, a soft cry filled the room. Anthony’s eyes went wide, and Kate let herself sag back against the pillows, thoroughly spent.

“A boy,” the doctor proclaimed in the quietness of the room. Kate’s eyes met Anthony’s, and she saw that the tears that had whelled in her eyes were reflected in his.

“A boy,” Anthony whispered to her. A moment later, the doctor passed him his son, whom he passed to Kate. He knew why the doctor passed him the child first, but Kate deserved to have the first moments with him.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered once their child was in her arms. He had a small tuft of dark hair and the blue eyes that so many babies did. Kate hoped that they would turn dark like his father’s. “Edmund.” Kate looked around at her family surrounding her. “Edmund Anthony Bridgerton.”

“Oh, Kate,” Violet gasped.

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked softly. 

Kate nodded at her husband, looking into his eyes. “It’s the only name I can imagine for him. Little Neddy.”

Anthony, who had been crying steadily at her side the entire time, let more tears fall as he took his place on the bed beside her. “I love you so much,” he whispered as he placed a fierce kiss on her lips. “I love both of you. Edmund.” He placed a soft hand on the top of his son’s head, cradling.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back. “We did good, huh?”

Neddy was too little to smile, but both his parents thought they may have seen it in his eyes. “We did.”

Anthony was silent for a moment. “How many more of these can we have?”

“Anthony Bridgerton!”