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It’s happening again, he thought as he gazed into her eyes, trapped by some unseen force. Tethered to her very soul, he was, in that moment, standing before her in the library while the storm raged beyond the walls of his home. He was drowning yet in that specific moment he was not afraid. It was as if he were being beckoned closer and closer until all sense of self became tangled and indecipherable from…her.
It had happened before, of course. Multiple times to be sure. The first time they’d met, in the park that singular, spectacular morning when that spark, that life force that had been extinguished for so long flickered to life. In the rose garden when she’d been stung, and he’d been forced to endure the possibility that she would meet the same fate as his father. The hunt earlier on this very day when he’d been in such close proximity to her person and lost sight of all else. And many more besides that he’d refused to acknowledge. Trapped to her every whim, every desire, the very essence of her being supplied his will to live.
How could it be otherwise?
The air between them crackled as he drowned in the depths of her irises, swaying ever so slowly toward her body. How would it feel to finally kiss her, to touch her lips with his own? Almost imperceptibly, he leaned down and he thought just for a moment that she’d done the same.
The flash of lightening lit the window and jerked them from the reverie. Kate started, quickly apologizing. “I should not be here,” she said breathlessly. “I should go.”
No! he wished to shout at her. Stay, here, where the two of us can exist in this haven of understanding without speaking a word! “It’s alright,” he said in attempt to reassure her. It was no use, though. She bustled out of the room as quicky as possible.
His chest heaved with a desperation he could not understand. Surely, it was luck. He was lucky the bolt of lightning had struck when it did before he’d done something foolish and irresponsible. Yes, that was surely it. He was lucky she left the room, running back to the safety of her sister. It was mere coincidence that his hands grasped a table’s edge as the sound of her footsteps fell quieter and quieter. Yes, mere coincidence indeed and absolutely nothing to do with restraining himself. Of course, he would not storm after her, sweep her into his arms and shout from the top of his lungs that he’d not truly been alive until the day he’d met her.
A truly preposterous notion.
With a sigh, he made his way back up the stairs to the Viscount’s chambers. Once inside, he stripped down to his skin and crawled between the sheets. The storm carried on its fury, and his thoughts stayed with Kate.
How was she faring alone? Would she rest at all, or would she spend her night lost in the pages of her novel as she sought refuge from the weather? Was her family at all aware of her strife?
It was not his business, he told himself as he punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape. He was not her caretaker, nor was she his. She’d battled her troubles independently for some time; she had no need of him.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
“Anthony! I thought you would never arrive!”
Ice ran down his spine at the vision before him. “Father,” he whispered. “I don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand, my son? You needed me and I am here. That is enough.” Edmund Bridgerton lounged in the chair behind the desk in the study, the same chair Anthony had vacated just hours ago. His feet were propped on the desk and a glass of whisky rested in his hands.
“What? How did you—” Anthony moved closer to the desk as he did not trust his own eyes.
“Anthony, you are not a disappointment to me. Not yet, at any rate.”
What was left of his heart shattered into dust. “Not yet?”
“Anthony, the one thing I have tried to instill into each and every one of my children is respect for the sanctity of marriage.”
Anthony’s heart hammered in his chest. His father, dead for more than a decade, wished to speak to him of marriage? “I have tremendous respect for marriage!”
“Oh, not the sanctity the church would speak of, or even the crown. I speak of the love one person should have for another. That a son of mine would take to wife a woman for whom he held no love, no friendship, no respect, is quite sad indeed. Moreover, that he would allow this woman to believe it to be a love match when he himself is already in love with another. That, Anthony is truly devastating. That is how you are failing, my son.”
How could he possibly? Anthony shook his head with vigor. “I cannot marry her, father.”
Edmund was incredulous. “Whyever not?”
“You were not here!” he screamed at his father. “You did not see how mother fell apart when you died! You did not see her devastation at having to decide on the life of a daughter you never lived to meet! I cannot do it, father. I cannot condemn a woman to such pain. There will be no love in my marriage, father.”
“Bollocks.”
“I beg your pardon?” It had been years since anyone deigned to speak to him in such a manner. Even though this was his father, his father was dead, and this apparition was merely a spectacle of his own mind.
“There will already be love in your marriage, Anthony. It simply won’t be for your bride. Do you think it simply goes away? That emotion so deep and true simply evaporates into thin air after saying your vows to another woman? It does not. It will be there every single day for the rest of your life. When you stand before the cleric and recite your vows. When you take your new wife to your bed. When she births your children. The love you have for another woman will be there with you, through each and every moment of it.”
“It will pass! Over time it shall become nothing.”
“No, Anthony. Love lives on. It will be there always. Not only in the milestones of your life and the life of your bride. But also, in the life of the woman who holds your heart. What will you do, Anthony, if she decides to move on?” Anthony felt his gut clench in anticipation of his father’s next words. “If she marries another, is taken to her husband’s bed, births his children, this man she will not love because you already hold her heart? Do you wish for her to live half a life as well?”
Half a life? Of course, he did not. “No! Don’t you understand? I want her to live the fullest life imaginable! I cannot marry her and trap her into the despair that mother endured. I cannot be the cause of it. I’ve decided, and that is that.” He nodded in emphasis.
His father quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so? Then why am I here?”
“What?” How was he to know why his father chose this night to present himself when he’d wished desperately for the man on so many other occasions?
“Tis your dream, Anthony. You tell me. Why am I here?”
“To drive me further out of my mind, obviously.”
“No, Anthony. To tell you what you already know. You disappoint me, son. Not with your duties as Viscount. No, those you perform quite well. But as a man, Anthony, you disappoint me. To find such a rarity and discard it over misguided notions of duty and not a little fear. You are not behaving as the man I raised, Anthony. The man I raised would know that he’d been given a gift beyond price. To find love with a woman of tremendous strength and poise, one already such a perfect fit for the life you have. The man I raised would offer all that he is for the sheer honor of calling the woman his own, for however brief a time it was allowed!” he hollered.
Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I am not strong as you were, father. I—”
“Oh, what nonsense this is,” his father said quietly. He tossed back his whisky and set the glass on the desk before gaining his feet. “Do as you will then, you stubborn goat. But do not blame my death for your fallacy. It is your ill decision that shall guide you from here on out, into the misery that will be the remainder of your life. I wash my hands of you.”
He watched in panic as his father strode to the door and wrenched it open. “Where are you going?”
Edmund turned and looked so much like an older version of Gregory that Anthony gasped. “Again, it is your dream, Anthony. I have no idea.” He vanished as he passed through the doorway.
Anthony woke drenched in sweat, miraculously feeling more energized than he had in years. Light had not yet begun to filter through the drawn curtains. It couldn’t be much past six, he reasoned. Everyone would likely still be abed and the staff just beginning to prepare breakfast.
Perfect, he thought.
“Thomas!” he shouted for his valet. “I require a bath with utmost haste,” he said less than two minutes later when his valet entered through the connecting door. “Has anyone else awakened? It does not matter,” he said before Thomas could respond. “As soon as we’ve finished, awaken my mother and tell her to meet here as soon as she can manage. Wait until my mother arrives, then tell Miss Edwina I require a meeting with her as soon as possible, in my study.” Anthony was bathed and shaved more quickly than he’d ever been. He finished dressing himself, shooing Thomas out the door to do his bidding.
Anthony was excited. For the first time in years, he looked forward to the day, to the next day, to his future. His father, or rather his own mind, had been quite correct. He oversaw his own future. No one else had the authority to make his decisions or live his life. No, indeed. Anthony Bridgerton, Viscount Bridgerton, would determine his own future.
And his future, as he decided it, would begin today.
“Miss Edwina!” he called cheerfully as she entered the study in her uniform of pale pink, a giddy, expectant smile on her face. “Lady Mary, good morning. Oh, I see Lady Danbury has joined us.” She smirked as he ushered them into the room. He peeked out the doorway to see if Miss Sharma was hiding about somewhere. She wasn’t and he thought it just as well. He very much doubted that she would appreciate being present for this.
“My lord,” Edwina called his attention. She was smiling, almost breathless with anticipation. “Tis a wonderful morning. It seems the rain last night has left the sky a wonderful color. I believe the gardens are most appreciative of having their thirst quenched.”
“Indeed,” Lady Mary said in response as she and Lady Danbury shared a knowing smile.
Anthony realized in that moment that Miss Edwina really was quite lovely. There was an innocence about her that offered refreshment from the jaded women with whom he typically associated. She was fresh and bright and not a little green. “It absolutely is, a truly miraculous morning,” he said, agreeing with her sentiment of the day.
“Miss Edwina, I am withdrawing my courtship.” A trio of gasps rang out. It could not be helped, however. “You are a delightful girl, Miss Edwina, but I will not be making you an offer of marriage.”
Several beats of silence passed. “Whyever not?” Lady Danbury demanded while Edwina merely gaped at him. “You have been courting Miss Edwina for weeks. The Queen herself has sanctioned the match. You have been courting her for weeks. We traveled here with the expectation of a proposal—”
“My apologies, Lady Danbury, but as I said, I will not be proposing marriage to Miss Edwina. Her Majesty’s sanction notwithstanding, I do not find this to be a best match. While it is true that I engaged in a courtship with her, I have made no promises of an offer.”
“But why not?” Edwina’s voice was small like that of a child as she stared at him with wide, wet eyes.
A small amount of pity stirred in him. Anthony offered her the truth. “Because I am in love with your sister.”
Edwina’s eyes bugged as she sat down hard. It was sheer luck that the seat of a chair was underneath her. “Kate? How can you be in love with Kate? You despise her.”
Anthony chuckled. She was not to blame for her naivete. He hadn’t recognized his feelings either until last night. “I understand how it might have appeared as such, but I assure you that is not the case. In fact, I intend to propose marriage to her, this evening in fact. My mother’s ball will make a most splendid occasion for it. Assuming she’ll have me, of course.” Anthony nodded at the group and turned toward the door. As far as he was concerned, the meeting was concluded.
“But she despises you!” Edwina objected, still reeling over the knowledge that not only did Lord Bridgerton not wish for her to be his Viscountess, but that the preferred her elder sister for the task. “However will you persuade her to accept you?”
Anthony turned and grinned to the room. “I have absolutely no idea. But I do know that I shall put all of my energies to that endeavor. Good day, ladies.” He left the room in such high spirits, he practically skipped down the hall.
Kate wiped a tear from her cheek. It was better that she was not invited into the study, she thought. When the Viscount’s man had knocked on Mary’s door that morning, he’d mentioned only Edwina. Her sister had shrieked with excitement. “A proposal, didi!”
After rushing to dress, the two of them had knocked on Mary’s door as her accompaniment was surely expected. Mary had intimated that Kate’s lack of inclusion in the invitation meant the Viscount preferred privacy for his proposal.
She was grateful to be out here, she told herself. She would rather take a knife to the heart than watch Lord Bridgerton ask her sister for her hand in marriage.
“Well, it appears that I will not be the next Viscountess Bridgerton.” Kate’s head jerked up at her sister’s voice. Edwina’s face was stained with tears, her expression incredulous. Behind her, Mary appeared shocked and Lady Danbury quite irritated.
“What do you mean, bon?”
Edwina tossed her head back and swiped at her face. “It appears someone else has captured the Viscount’s affections,” she retorted with a glare for her sister. Kate was confused. Lord Bridgerton cared for another? Who could he possibly desire for his wife above Edwina?
“Bon, let us go upstairs—”
“No.” Edwina retreated out of range of Kate’s grasp. “Mama, I wish to retire.”
Mary nodded. “Of course. You’ll stay in my room tonight.” She flicked a glance in Kate’s direction. “Kate, please allow Edwina her liberty at present.”
Kate gawked as the two of them returned up the stairs. In desperation, she turned to Lady Danbury who’d watched the scene unfold in uncharacteristic silence. “Lady Danbury, please. I do not understand. Why is Edwina cross with me? Did the Viscount offer any explanation for his behavior?”
The older woman smirked, then offered a brief nod. “Oh, that he did, Miss Sharma. Twas quite the interesting speech Lord Bridgerton gave your sister.”
“But—”
“Miss Sharma!” Kate jerked her gaze to the intruder and took a steadying breath when she encountered not only Violet Bridgerton but the Duchess as well. “I am rather happy to see you this morning. Daphne and I were about to tend to some last-minute details for the ball this evening. Would it be presumptuous of me to request your assistance?” Kate blinked at her. Surely, she could not wish for her input.
“You have a wonderful eye for color, Miss Sharma. Far better than the two of us, I dare say.” The Duchess spoke before she formulate a response. “And with your travels, I am certain you have acquired a divine understanding of space.” Daphne took her arm and began to lead her away. Kate cast a look over her shoulder to Lady Danbury in askance. A subtle nod was the woman’s only response.
Kate was more confused than ever when she finally returned to her room later that day to dress for the evening’s ball. She’d not seen Edwina or Mary since that morning outside of the Viscount’s study. The Duchess and Lady Bridgerton had kept her quite occupied for nearly every minute of the day. She’d tried knocking on Mary’s door after lunch, but she’d received no response. Her day had been consumed by the Bridgerton women, none of whom were privy to Edwina’s whereabouts. Even Lady Danbury had been occupied.
With a tremendous sigh, she pushed open her door, briefly hoping Edwina would be present. Her hopes were dashed when she found the chamber empty of all but Newton.
Flowers waited on the side table. A beautiful bouquet of blue hyacinths and pink tulips. Stunning and precious, the bouquet was quite simple for Edwina’s taste. She’d always preferred roses or other extravagances while Kate’s choice was for more simple, less traditional blooms. No doubt they were a gift from the Viscount. He always seemed to be giving Edwina more bouquets than she knew what to do with. She shook off the small thread of longing that tugged at her. She shrugged and moved to grab them to take them down the hall to Mary’s room when she noted the card. It was addressed to Miss Kathani Sharma.
Stunned, she pulled the card from its place with shaking hands. This had to be a mistake, she thought. No one had ever given her flowers. No one did give her flowers. Men did not see her in such a manner. Curiosity overruled caution as she eagerly opened the note. Upon reading it, she knew she’d never felt more confused.
A storm survived yields precious
beauty indeed. - Anthony
Anthony waited impatiently for Kate’s appearance at the ball. Wisteria and greenery hung from every space available. Music filled the room and dancers graced the wooden planks, but he would not be one of them unless, rather until, Miss Sharma agreed to his escort to the floor. He stood still as a statue with his eyes fixed on the landing where she would make her entrance.
Finally, she appeared. Kate, Miss Edwina, Lady Mary and Lady Danbury appeared as a quartet on the landing. The dowagers stood just a bit behind the younger ladies. Kate was wide-eyed and looked a bit spooked. For a moment, Anthony stood still and enjoyed the rarity of seeing the formidable Miss Sharma look unsure. So intent on his observations of the elder Sharma lady, he missed the younger raising her chin and giving her sister a sharp nod.
He took the stairs as quickly as he dared. He took a deep breath when she finally turned to him. “Miss Sharma,” he spoke quietly. “May I have your first dance.” Braced for her rejection, he held his breath, his eyes pleading. Her eyes flickered to Edwina as she made her way down the opposite side of the staircase, then back to him. “Miss Sharma?” A beat passed, then two. Finally, she put her hand in his.
“Lord Bridgerton, what are you about?” she asked as he twirled her around the floor. “Why are you dancing with me and not my sister? And why did you send me flowers?”
“Did you like them?” She nodded. “Of course, I did, they were most beautiful.”
“As are you.” He caught her as she stumbled. She cast a glance around, but no one paid attention to her misstep. “You cannot say such things, my lord. You are courting my sister; it is most improper.” He only smiled and pulled her closer.
“Were I still courting your sister you would be quite correct.” She nodded emphatically then stared at him. “What?”
“I have withdrawn my courtship of your sister.”
“Lord Bridgerton, I do not understand.”
He pulled her back to his chest as she reached her hand up to grasp his, as required by the dance. The smell of lilies permeated his senses. He blurted out, “how could I seek to make her my wife when it is you who occupies my every waking thought. Most of my sleeping thoughts, too, come to that.” He could feel her chest rising and falling with labored breathing. “I’ve loved you since the moment we raced each other in that park and I offer my deepest apologies for my delayed realization of it.”
“But I—”
“Can you look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing for me?”
“You know I cannot.”
He bowed to her as the dance ended. “Then I have a chance,” he said with a grin before depositing her with his mother. Violet gave him a small nod as he took his leave.
Anthony bided his time for the rest of the first half of the ball but kept his eye on Miss Sharma. His mother, to her credit, was doing a marvelous job of keeping the wolves at bay. Her dance card that had been around her wrist mysteriously disappeared and Daphne had managed to redirect both Lady Mary and Miss Edwina each and every time the ladies tried to approach Kate. As he’d requested that morning, the second of three waltzes was about to being. He marched directly to Miss Sharma, incidentally giving the cut direct to multiple gentleman of the peerage.
Their second dance was quite different than the first for she argued with him throughout the entire set. She had no dowry, she said. I am quite a wealthy man, Miss Sharma. What need do I have of a dowry? She was not looking for this, she insisted. And yet we found each other. Edwina will be devastated, she insisted. Miss Edwina is currently being swarmed by every other eligible man present. I believe she will make out just fine. She must marry a titled English gentleman in order to secure her dowry from her grandparents, she confessed. But why? She will be my sister; I shall dower her as I do all of my sisters. But I am to return to India, she nearly cried. Of course. It might be best to make the trip when the children are older. It would be wise for them to be old enough to appreciate their mother’s homeland. Would you not agree?
As the set ended, he once again escorted her to his mother and her watchful eye. Knowing all attendants were watching them closely, he made a bit of a show of kissing her hand, then placing it in his mothers. With this action, even if Kate was unaware of its significance, he was presenting her to his mother for keeping. An acknowledgement of what was to come. He moved away as he had before and dealt with his other guests, leaving Miss Sharma to his family.
For the third time that evening, he stood before her with his hand outstretched in askance. “Miss Sharma, may I have your final dance?” On and on they twirled, through the other couples, around the centerpiece in the middle of the ballroom floor. He heard nothing, saw nothing that was not her. They did not speak for this set; there was no need for words as they moved in unison.
Midway through the dance, other couples began to disperse, then remove themselves from the floor entirely. Slowly, Anthony maneuvered them to the middle of the floor, just beyond the large display of flowers that had been assembled there. As the music faded away, he gripped her hand and removed a box from the pocket of his jacket. Gasps rang out in the ballroom even before he dropped to one knee in front of her.
“Miss Kathani Sharma, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
One year and one day later…
Anthony made his way down the path, dodging branches and kicking stray twigs out of the way. His footsteps were lighter than they’d been on this part of the grounds in many years. A mental note was made to have the staff clean up the path after the latest storm.
A breath escaped him as he approached his father’s tomb.
“Father,” he began, feeling perhaps a bit silly. A cautious look around guaranteed no one was present. Anthony swallowed his reservations to continue his tribute. “I would often come here to speak with you after you passed on, but it feels like it has been years since I’ve done so. I wanted to tell you, wanted you to know.” He chuckled a bit with elation mixed with sleep-deprived hysteria.
“My son, your grandson, was born just after midnight, um, this morning. We’ve named him Edmund. As soon as his mother is willing to let him out of her sight, I shall bring him here to introduce him to his namesake. It is a truly wonderous event, to witness the birth of one’s child, the sheer fucking wonder of witnessing the woman you love birth a child conceived in love from her very body.
“Father, I wish to thank you. I do not know if you truly came to me that night, or if you were merely a figment of my imagination but what you told me then was everything I needed to hear. My wife, Kate, she is… Well, she is most extraordinary. She drives me positively mad some days but I… I truly have no words for how happy I am to call her my wife. I am still ashamed of how close I came to turning her away, turning away from what was between us.
“I do not know how long I shall have with my wife and son, but I do know that every single day I am able to spend with them is worth whatever may come later. I am quite saddened by the fact that she shall never meet you, never know your laughter, never know how well you held this family together. I suppose all of this is to say that I miss you, today more than any other. But I quite hope that many, many years pass before we meet again.”
He laid the flowers he’d brought at the foot of the monument and felt one more crack in his heart mend. With a final nod, he retraced his steps to Aubrey Hall, to his wife and son.