Work Text:
Kate thought she might have trouble sleeping that night the moment he sent a dark glare her way as she laughed at his unfortunate tumble into the Serpentine.
She knew she would have trouble sleeping that night when he undressed in the water, making sure not to break eye contact with her.
And now precisely, that is what was happening. It was almost morning and she had barely gotten any rest. Her body simply wanted to toss and turn and wonder and wait and worry and want.
She tossed, pushing the blanket off of her.
Then she turned, pulling it back over her body.
What was he thinking, proposing to his sister after all they shared at Aubrey Hall?
She tossed again, tugging the blanket over her head.
He looked angry, in the water, and the expression was so bizarrely attractive that Kate had to fan herself discreetly after he left. Even if their gazes miraculously managed to break, she knew the Viscount had not spared a glance towards her sister (before his rather ungracious exit) by Edwina’s unbothered manner afterwards. Edwina was clearly appreciative of Lord Bridgerton’s form in the moment, and she was far too blatant with said appreciation. Kate told her sister not to stare for the sake of propriety only, of course. It was unbecoming of a lady, and Kate was nothing if not a dutiful sister.
Kate managed to stay under the blanket for a full minute before she turned again and shut her eyes tight, willing herself to sleep.
Her mind wandered to the ridged lines of muscle peeking underneath his wet shirt, and the dark hairs on the expanse of his chest. She cursed that stupid, tiny rowboat and pathetic excuse for a river, but mostly she cursed his pointless endeavor which was little more than an obvious excuse to hold her ungloved hand. Kate threw the blanket to the ground in frustration.
She couldn’t take it anymore. The sun was almost peeking out of the horizon anyway, she may as well get an early start to her morning ride.
In her annoyance, she didn’t bother to make her bed or braid her hair. She endeavored to get atop her horse as soon as possible. A clear head would fix all her troubles, and then she could worry about being tidy and properly dressed.
She quickly donned her riding habit and sprinted to the stables, mounting her favorite of Lady Danbury’s many horses. The outside air was cool and humid, the perfect weather for a ride. Kate grinned as she rode, feeling the wind in her face and the satisfaction of clearing a jump with ease.
But fate proved that nothing in this country could be simple for her, as she heard someone chasing after her. Again.
Kate could tell by the urgency of his pursuit that he had something to say. Her mind was practically screaming in protest of her bad idea, but she ignored it and slowed down. Mechanically, she dismounted and tied her steed to a nearby tree as he approached.
In his urgency, he dismounted quickly while the horse was still moving. Kate could only blink in silence. Must he be so attractive, even now when she was upset with him?
This train of thought made her angry, and she had to decide whether he deserved her indifference or her fury. Perhaps she could try for both.
“What were you thinking?” She doesn’t have to specify. He will understand her meaning.
“He is wholly unsuitable for you. You would do well never to speak to him again.”
There must be some slow, or perhaps delusional aspect of his mind that made him think he could order her around like this. Kate had no present intention of seeing or speaking to Mr. Dorset again, but the Viscount need not know that. “Matches have been made from far less. Do not trouble yourself by making character judgments of every man I speak to.”
Lord Bridgerton’s expression could only be described as thunderous, his voice rising as he asked, “You expected me to stand there and watch Dorset follow you around like your damned dog does? You said you were not considering a match of your own!”
“I never said anything about my marital plans. In fact, perhaps a husband is just what I need to move on from this mess of a situation.”
He practically spat out his reply. “So that’s your plan then, to marry and abandon everyone else?”
He looked even more panicked than he did the first time she told him she was returning to India. Kate would never admit it to anyone, but she liked how, at least around her, he always wore his true emotions on his face.
As if he read her thoughts he continued, “What about your return to India?”
He sounded desperate, and Kate wasn’t sure if he was desperate for her to stay or for her to leave. He probably did not know the answer to that either. She supposed she could try to pull the truth out of him.
“Is that what you desire? Would that be far enough for you to finally be free of me?”
She let her words hang in the air for a long moment. He looked at her with an inscrutable expression, and Kate took this as a sign to step closer.
“Frankly, there is no longer a place on this earth I could travel to anyway that would rid me of this utter torment… I am a lady. My father raised me to behave as one, but each moment I spend in your presence destroys all my senses of propriety.”
She kept walking forward, invading his space until she was but an inch away. She looked at his wide eyes and was reminded of his clear interest in her when they first met. She thought of his sweet attempt to ask her what she wanted before his damned proposal. She thought of his competitive spirit, and his laugher in the mud, and even his sadness afterwards.
Kate was loathe to admit it, but she liked too much about him.
“You are the bane of my existence. And all I dream of when I am alone in my room at night.”
Even she was surprised at how sultry her voice sounded. The Viscount’s jaw looked as if it could snap from the tension it held. She was resolved to push him until his emotional dam finally broke. Kate lifted her finger and firmly guided it from the top of Lord Bridgerton’s shoulder and down to his chest.
“Do you even know all of the ways I would allow you to touch me if our circumstances were different?” Kate sensed a movement and her eyes traveled downwards. He had clenched his fists. As if he was forcing himself not to touch her.
She smirked, knowing she was about to go too far and unable to care about it. She stepped as close as she could without touching their bodies and spoke softly, “I am an innocent you know…just imagine all the things you could teach me…” With this confession, she leveraged the hold she had on his chest and pushed him backwards, forcing him away from her. This was to deliver the intended meaning of her message of course, which was that he would not be teaching her anything, and it was all his own fault.
The Viscount protested her action by stepping forward once, then again, and Kate made sure to remain immobile. The look on his face was dark, and dangerous. His manner was threatening her to stop talking, but it only made her wish to press her legs together.
Victory would be hers soon. She could sense it, visceral and buzzing in the air.
“Does it kill you inside? Knowing all we could have shared together had you not stubbornly remained on this path to be eternally bound to me as my brother-in-law?”
Lord Bridgerton flinched at her emphasis, and took a step back in retreat. His face was pleading with her not to go down this road and remind him of this insupportable future. Kate tried not to relish in his suffering. It was almost masochistic, because his pain was also hers. But now that she had started, she couldn't stop. She had to make him realize the impossible situation he had put them both in, which meant it was time to go in for the kill.
“Know that if I do marry, I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you. Dreaming of you, when I am with him. And if I ever bother to return to this country, I would make sure to see you, hoping for the day your so-called honor finally snaps.”
There. Now at least he could never say she had not warned him.
“I hope you’ve thought long and hard as to whether that is the future you want for us. I must go.”
She spared him a glance as she rode away. His expression was nothing short of dejected, and Kate felt the swell of victory evaporate into the morning air. She finally remembered why she had held her tongue for so long.
There would never be any winners in a situation like theirs.