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Gleaming high in the sky through the oak trees the sun glows a soft yellow hue across the streets of Mayfair, as busy commuters spend their mid-afternoon browsing the various markets to see the latest trends in fashion and perhaps buy some flowers for their loved ones.
The streets were crowded with people busily trying to get the latest bargains on the newest corsets and fancy hats, but one stall in particular was busier then all the rest - one that caught the eyes of all the Ton as they admire the the flowers that were a dancing rainbow, as if light and music had found a new way to blossom together. The flowers swayed in the wind to the cacophony of on-going people that swooned at their feet, the way that they would carefully haul the roses into their hands and depart with a smile on their faces as they pass this beautiful bouquet to those whom they love. But then the roses wilt and the earlier rays of happiness that burst out of them was gone - a mere distant memory.
The atmosphere was positively buzzing; the birds chirping, the bees humming to their own sing-a-song and the dogs barking passionately to the wind that whirls along. But one couple in particular was stirring something up, more then the wind howling, most members of the Ton cast their oddly judgemental glares at them as they promenade around hand-in-hand attached by the hip. Whispers were passed along in their direction many of their questions were, “Is that Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton?” And “I thought the honeymoon was over, why are they still standing so close to one another?” But the couple only had eyes for each other as they walked hands entwined through the streets of the market, murmuring sweet words into each other’s ear as they admire the stalls around them. Their smiles were bigger then the whole sky - even the sun itself could not come to their level of happiness, these two were genuinely besotted with each other and anyone could see that as they walked past them. Perhaps that’s why they give them those stares, they are merely jealous that this is a true love match, a one of a kind match that is rarely found in the ton.
After walking for goodness knows how long, they eventually find themselves at a flower stall filled with chrysanthemums, roses, tulips and hydrangeas. They depart for just a second, their hands leaving each other’s embrace as they go in their separate ways to appreciate all these flowers and the sheer beauty of them. Viscount Bridgerton, formerly known as Capital R “Rake” pays no attention to the magnificent pink roses in front of him, but keeps his eyes solely on the magnificent beautiful woman in front of him whose eyes light up at the sight of the lavender-coloured tulips, the Viscountess, Lady Kate Bridgerton, formerly known as Kate Sharma captured the heart of this rake last season and it’s been the talk of the ton ever since. She feels his stare burn into the back of her head, she always does, but it never fails to amaze her after all these months he’s still as besotted with her since the very first day they raced each other in that park.
“I can feel you staring,” she says as she picks up one of the magenta tulips and inspects it with her keen eyes. She can also feel the warmth around her as she feels him envelop her from behind, his hands sneaking up behind her resting on her slightly protrudent stomach. He hums to her statement, his nose drifting ever so slightly to her neck to smell his wife’s intoxicating scent, Lilies.
“Anthony,” she whispers as the eyes of the ton become more and more noticeable as he sniffs her neck. Sighing, she places the tulips back in their rightful place and finds another one, in the hopes to pass the time as he’s entranced in her very being. This one fills her with a wave of nostalgia - orange tulips. The very tulips he brought her after the dreaded accident, a way of saying ‘I’m sorry’ but not getting the words across. Kate knows he scolds himself everyday for the mistakes he made last year, but they have made new memories now especially at Aubrey Hall. She hopes that one day, he will forgive himself the way that she forgave him.
“Anthony.” She repeats again in the hopes that this time he’ll listen. Unfortunately, he just places light kisses to her collarbone and neck, which Kate was not opposed to but with the judgemental stares of the ton, she’d rather not have Lady Whistledown write about this in her column, she can already envision the title, ‘VISCOUNT BRIDGERTON CANNOT KEEP HIS HANDS OFF HIS WIFE.’ She’d rather not run the Bridgerton name in the ground because her husband doesn’t have any sense of decorum. Swiftly, she extracts herself from his embrace so she’s standing in front of him, orange tulips in hand as she stares up at him, a stare that will more then likely drive him mad. “I rather like these tulips, don’t you?” She asks as she cocks an eyebrow at him, watching the way his features light up as he’s reminded of the sentimental feeling that these specific tulips have.
Kate’s original thought was that he was going to remind her of that day, tell her that he chose them out especially for her, reminded of what his mother said a year ago - he felt inspired to make it up to her, even if at the time it failed miserably, it was the thought that counted.
But instead, her husband had other ideas in mind as he grasps the orange tulips from her hand and dramatically gets on one knee in front of her, a mischievous smile on his face as her face is full of adoration for him. She fell for his stupid man.
“Kathani,” he starts as if he’s proclaiming his love for her again, but this time he got it right. “Jaan, if I could go back in time and will myself to say the right words that day I would, but I will make sure every single day that my heart beats, I will remind you that I am in love with you and my heart beats.. only for you. Only ever for you, Jaan. It’s always been you.” He proclaims as he rather poetically admits his love for her again, he also rather dramatically places his hand over his heart, the tulips still in his hand, getting rather crushed by the weight of his confession.
Softly, she hits him on the arm playfully - a smile blooming across her face and if Anthony could remember this day forever and conjure it up and keep it safely in his breast-pocket, he would. Her smile, her soft laugh at his stupid actions as he humbles himself before her. It’s not the first time Kate’s put him on his knees as if she is a goddess and he is praying at her alter and it certainly will not be the last, the Viscountess always manages to put the Viscount on his knees no matter the occasion.
“I guess this means I’ve won.” She smugly says as she yanks her husband up, the bouquet of tulips getting crushed by the weight of his fists.
“I think that’s where you’re wrong, my love. I think I won.. you were smiling!” He quips back rather shocked at the accusation that he lost once again, when deep down he knew it was true.
Earlier on as they were walking through the market, Kate rather smugly admitted that she didn’t think that her husband would be able to spend a whole day without romantically admitting that he’s utterly obsessed with her and in love with her. Anthony became all defensive about it, saying that she deserved to know but perhaps today he could’ve showed a little restraint. He lost yet again - to no one’s surprise.
She huffs, “I was smiling because you lost the bet! Admit it Anthony, you cannot spend an entire day without proclaiming to the heavens that you’re utterly in love with me.”
“Fine! I cannot. You win, yet again, Lady Bridgerton.” She cheers then, a big beaming smile lights up her features and he has this sudden urge to kiss her. Not even thinking twice about it or even the repercussions of the action, he hastily leans forward to capture her lips with his, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. But one thing was slightly amiss.
His hat. His stupid hat, that annoyingly keeps bumping into Kate’s forehead as they kiss and it just won’t do it.
One thing about Kate is that she is utterly obsessed with her husband’s hair and loves to run her hands through it day and night, particularly after they are sated after their many hours and many rounds of love-making, she enjoys roaming her hands through his curls pulling them ever so slightly. It’s always been one of her favourite things about her husband and she remembers the day when they had their first kiss vividly - the day itself was awful but that kiss certainly was not. It plagiarised her thoughts and feelings ever since, she could not stop thinking about his hair. The way any slight pressure of her pulling would evoke the most beautiful and mesmerising sounds from her now-husband. She would never openly admit this to her husband like how she does in fact find his smile pleasing, but she enjoys teasing him, though she does suppose that he does have an inkling of an idea about her obsession with his hair by now.
Which is why she gets this rather reckless and impulsive idea to pluck his hat off his head and freely roam her hands through his hair. And she does so quickly and freely pulls him closer to her through his hair. Anthony is more then happy to oblige - the hat was rather old anyway, he thought as he focuses on the task-at-hand as his wife kisses him with so much reckless passion that he eagerly returns. This day was taking a rather nice turn.
The hat soon becomes an item left on the floor.
A careless item.
But Kate couldn’t care any less about that hat, she was solely focused on him.
Her darling husband and soon-to-be father of their children.
As they part, she places his hand on her stomach, watching his eyes light up once again. He really was the nicest man in London. And the sweetest.