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The rain had tormented her from the moment she woke that morning. First, prohibiting her from going on her morning ride, then from taking a walk in the gardens or even going on a promenade. She was not the only one disquieted by the poor weather. Newton too was restless. However, though Kate remained uneasy, the weather had relented by the middle of the afternoon just in time for the roads to dry and everyone in Mayfair to leave their homes for the event of the evening.
The Summer Musicale held by the Smythe-Smiths was meant to be glorious. The theme of the event was the end of summer. At least this was what Edwina claimed as she relayed the words of their sponsor.
“Lady Danbury said that the Smythe-Smiths once held the final ball of the season for years before the Duchess of Hastings reclaimed her spot. They have since changed their event to a musicale to showcase their daughters’ talents. It is quite marvellous isn't it?”
It had been some time since Edwina was so excited to go to a society event.
Ever since telling her sister of her engagement Edwina had been subdued. Even after encouraging her to follow her heart Edwina did not expect a proposal so soon. Nor did Kate. In fact Kate did not expect one at all.
In the spirit of honesty Kate had pulled her sister aside on the night of the Featherington Ball after they arrived back at Danbury House and told her. She thought that her sister deserved the truth before she shared her news with her mama and Lady Danbury the following morning.
All Edwina had asked was: “Does he love you?”
Kate nodded shyly.
“And you love him?”
For the first time Kate admitted to her sister, “I do, Bon. I love him madly.”
Edwina's smile was more of a grimace than a grin. “Good. Everyone deserves to feel the power of true love.”
“Edwina.” Kate's heart broke just a little. It was difficult to forget that her gain was Edwina's loss. But her sister waved her hand before Kate could say anything.
“I mean it, Didi. I am truly happy for you.”
Her sister said nothing more to her that night before hugging Kate and retiring to her bedchamber. Whatever way Edwina chose to grapple with the news that night Kate would never know. It was a fresh wound that she was no longer the person her little sister ran to with every hurt and every bruise. They were both adjusting to that.
The next morning Edwina was straight-backed and steady-faced as Kate shared her news.
Her sister had since coped with the knowledge of the upcoming nuptials with a grace that was admirable. Edwina's reticence in private was bearable when Kate thought of her stoicism in public amidst the whispers and insinuations. These were things Kate could not protect her from and it filled her with pride to witness her sister face this trial with her head held high. That she joined arms with Kate whenever she could, at balls and promenades and the like. That she smiled, and laughed as though nothing was amiss.
It was a service and it was one that Kate did not take for granted for she knew it was an act of great dolour for her sister to undertake. To clear the pathway before Kate and Anthony. To make everyone believe that everything that passed between them all, passed amicably and was the choice of not just the queen but all involved.
With that in mind Kate beamed despite the unease caused by the darkening skies. It was rather lovely to see her sister so truly enthused about something once more.
“It sounds wonderful, Bon. But you have not told me what makes it so special.”
“Oh!” Edwina giggled. “Lady Danbury said that the Smythe-Smith sisters are quite gifted at capturing the attention of an audience. An edifying spectacle she called it. Does that not sound marvellous?”
Nothing that Edwina relayed sounded like a compliment but nor did it sound like an insult. As was standard with the dowager countess, Kate imagined they would find out on their own.
“It certainly sounds like it shall be an illuminating experience.”
“I should think so. I could do with some spectacle that has naught to do with you or I. Not that I am not thrilled for you, of course,” she rushed out. “But I am still growing used to this new sort of staring.”
Edwina had always been looked upon. For her beauty, her accomplishments, after the wedding it was with pity and smug disdain. Now it was as though people were looking at the three of them trying to find a hole in their story. Something that could be poked at and inspected. It was all well and good that the queen supported them but there was nothing the Ton enjoyed like a circus.
“The focus tonight will be on the music.”
“One can only hope,” her sister replied. “How do I look?”
Her sister wore a lovely pink gown with beaded embellishments on the front and her hair was wound into a severe but elaborate coiffure. She looked like a dream as she always did but there was something harder in her bearing that had settled over her recently.
Kate had often said that her sister was wiser beyond her years but it now felt truer than it ever had before. However Kate, being the overbearing older sister that she was, fretted that this pluckiness had taken the shape of a shield rather than a cloak. Something that Edwina used to protect and defend herself rather than another impressive trait of hers that could be displayed to decorate some nobleman's estate and burnish his family's name.
In a way Kate was quite proud of her. That this evolution was something that was for herself and not for society's pleasure or to exhibit her potential as a future bride. And though she was saddened at the way in which this wisdom was gained; it was not her place to remark on it. Only for her to worry in private.
“Beautiful.” Kate replied. “No one will hold a candle to you tonight.”
Edwina beamed. “Nor you. But we must make haste. Lady Danbury does not wish us to be late.”
Kate took one last look at herself in the mirror. Her yellow gown was as elaborately designed as Edwina's. Despite her misgivings about such fripperies both Lady Danbury and her stepmother agreed that after the events of the season she must be beyond reproach as a future viscountess and that included her manner of dress. Even her hair was styled more elaborately than she was accustomed. Braided into a tight chignon with flowers braided into her coiffure—lilies to be exact—and more curls framing her face than she was accustomed to.
She looked both like herself and someone new.
A decade ago her gown would have been a saree, it would have been marigolds and not lilies in her hair, and her braid would have swung to her waist. Yet it was the look on her face that seemed most foreign. It startled her a little. This newfound openness that she wore like a new glove, fitted to perfection and yet still in need of being worn in.
In the foyer Lady Danbury stood with a look of satisfaction that would seem almost sadistic if Kate did not know any better. Mary stood next to her with the placid patience that Kate was used to.
“Excellent,” said Lady Danbury as she and Edwina made her way down the stairs. “You both look splendid. Now, shall we?”
The evening chill made her shiver as they stepped out of doors. She looked to the cloudy sky and disquiet settled over her.
“Come now ladies. We are in for an adventure.”
“Adventure? I thought it was a musicale?”
“Is life not an adventure, Miss Edwina?”
Kate barely heard Edwina's response. She found that she could not pay attention to their repartee.
With her eyes still on the grey skies Kate held in a sigh. It would rain again tonight. She sent a plea to Indra to spare the skies his strength, to send light rains instead of a storm.
Kate had always hated managing storms in public. She would always hold herself too stiff, clasp her hands too tight, the faintest noise would make her jump. It was with great effort that she'd been able to keep her fears hidden from her family all these years.
In many ways it was easier in England.
They did not have true storms, only a poor facsimile. On this miniscule island trees lost branches and leaves but they did not uproot from the earth, roofs may become damaged but they did not fly away with violent winds, the floods damaged crops and may even take lives but water did not rise and rise until houses were lost. In this place she would never have those blinding attacks of phobia which left her numb and shaking. The ones she had in India caused her to hide away in her father's study after her family went to bed with her hands over her ears and her eyes squeezed shut. The kind that gave her such dreadful night terrors that she vowed never to sleep when the skies screamed in flashes and roars.
These attacks humiliated her. Her family needed her to be stalwart and staid and yet a simple change in weather turned her into a frightened little girl who just needed her father.
A touch on her shoulder nearly caused her to jump out of her skin.
“Dearest?”
Kate looked into her mother's worried eyes as her heart pounded. It was definitely going to be a storm. She was never this jumpy over brief summer rains.
“Are you well?”
She looked around and saw that Lady Danbury and her sister were already in the carriage. They looked out at her, curiosity in the dowager’s eyes and confusion in Edwina's. Kate plastered on her brightest smile.
“Of course I am, mama.”
Mary nodded, looking a bit dubious before entering the carriage with a footman’s help.
Taking one last look at the treacherous skies she entered the carriage. There would be no sleep for her tonight.
The evening started with a solo from a lovely, young opera singer introduced as Bianca Gonzaga. Her light soprano rang through the room as she sang an aria. Edwina was fixated. She loved the opera as much as Kate did and neither had an opportunity to attend in their time in England. A pity that the first time she was able to hear such lovely melodies all season was one where she could scarcely pay attention.
The rain had escalated from a light drizzle to a steady pour and her nerves were growing unsteadier as the time passed. Kate pretended as well as she could but she would soon need a break. The piercing melody combined with the discordant sound of lightning and thunder could not be borne for too long.
Glancing at Lady Danbury to gauge her reaction the dowager seemed quite bored but her sister was enraptured, and her mama swayed in tandem with the music. Their visible pleasure was enough to make Kate grit her teeth and bear it.
After the concerto Lady Smythe-Smith proudly announced her daughters,
“That was a lovely start to the evening. A lovely start. However my daughters Rose, Marigold and Lavender will now grace us with a most marvellous trio. My girls.”
Three young girls who were as lovely as they were little—in height, though perhaps in age as well.
The eldest looked to be at the very start of twenty but the younger two could not be any older than Edwina. All three were as diminutive as her sister as well. The young ladies had dark skin and each of their coily hair was braided into elaborate chingones and decorated with beads and hair pins. Their gowns were immaculate, light green and pristine.
Lady Danbury sat up, for the first time interested in the evening.
They opened their mouths to start their song and what followed was nothing short of a disaster.
Kate was alarmed. She glanced around only to witness polite wincing as well as nodding and smiling. Mary's smile was frozen on her face and Edwina's visage grew horrified before turning placid. Everyone, it seemed, except for the Sharma ladies, was prepared. Kate turned to Lady Danbury sharply only to see her ears stuffed with something. Paper? Wax? She could not tell. Only that the dowager looked inordinately pleased.
The singing—if it could be called as such, sounded akin to cats being tortured. How could three beautiful girls make such ghastly sounds, Kate could not say. She could only watch on in polite horror waiting for it to end.
Unfortunately for her mother and sister, after the singing came the harp. Fortunately for Kate, she could hide the way she winced at the clamouring skies as polite forbearance of the night's entertainment.
At the call for intermission Edwina scurried from her seat. Not a single head turned to watch her flee. It seemed that her sister got her wish. The focus of the night was firmly on the Smythe-Smith girls.
Mary and Kate followed her out of the music room at a slower pace. Kate, Edwina and Mary stood in silence for a long moment; none of them quite sure what to say.
“That was certainly—”
“Inspired, no?” Lady Danbury came behind them.
“You said they were gifted!” Edwina accused in a shouting whisper.
“At capturing the attention of an audience. Was I wrong?”
“I—you—” Edwina's shoulders slumped. “I suppose not.”
“This is a lesson for your next season, dear girl. Anything can sound appealing if you wish to be appealed to.”
Edwina nodded with a pout.
Lady Danbury had been doing that of late. Giving her sister lessons on how to see past charm and sophistry so that she could listen to what her suitor's truly meant with their overtures.
Kate observed these lessons in a state of discomfiture.
She did not know which bothered her more, the idea that her sister held any fault in her own heartache this season or the implication that Kate herself did not prepare Edwina well enough for the duplicity and manipulations of the Ton. When Kate first brought it up Edwina was cross with her. Her sister would not hear a word against Lady Danbury's method, insisting that she could not be coddled for the rest of her life.
And so Kate stepped back, allowing her sister to learn in the way she deemed fit.
On any other day another one of these lessons would be an annoyance but in her increasing dread all she could do was fidget in her slippers wishing that she was back at Danbury House.
That was until a pleasant distraction came in the face of the handsomest man she'd ever met entering the townhouse. She did not think of the storm, or the other people trickling in behind him—clearly it was well known that this was an event to which you arrived fashionably late—or Lady Danbury taking Kate's role as guide and protector. Instead all she focused on was the way his face brightened as she caught his gaze. The dimples on his cheeks as he flashed her a smile.
Kate's heart stuttered in her chest as he approached her. He bowed deeper than was necessary given her station and Kate curtseyed in response. She held out her gloved hand for him to kiss, as was his wont recently whenever he greeted her in public.
“Lord Bridgerton, you look very well.”
“And you, Miss Sharma, are sunlight on a cloudy day.”
Kate flushed. He insisted upon embarrassing her with an array of compliments.
Kate held no secret insecurities about her looks. It was difficult to not know what an striking image men saw when they looked at her. Not when they kept saying it and staring besides when they could not use their words. But as she aged beyond marriageability compliments about her beauty grew infrequent from decent men and all too frequent from the unsavoury sort who wished to tumble her and her family into ruin. As a result, her fiancé's campaign to let everyone know how well he regarded her, both embarrassed and gratified her.
He kissed her hand once more, keeping his eyes on hers.
It was only the sound of thunder rolling that could spoil this moment for her. She stiffened before smiling at him, a brittle smile but a smile nonetheless.
His hand tightened around hers as he looked at her closely.
Kate shook her head and allowed her hand to fall from his.
She glanced around trying to gather her bearings from both the thunder and his affections. In her mama's eyes she could see mild surprise and delight. Mary always seemed stunned around her and Anthony. As though she could not quite believe what she was witnessing. Edwina kept her smile placid but there was an undercurrent of something in her eyes that Kate did not wish to dissect. Lady Danbury, at least, appeared impassive to the entire thing.
It took Lady Bridgerton's laughter to lighten the moment. Kate blinked. She did not even notice that the Bridgerton family arrived alongside their patriarch.
“Forgive our tardiness,” tittered Lady Bridgerton with her usual charm. “Poor Eloise had an accident of wardrobe and is quite distraught over it.”
Edwina nodded sympathetically but Kate noticed the way Lord Bridgerton rolled his eyes and his younger brother sniggered into his chest. Kate could see why. In the short time she'd come to know Miss Eloise she could tell that the young lady had no such nerves over her state of dress.
“Benedict stayed at home to comfort her,” Lady Bridgerton continued. “She does so hate to miss such a fine evening.”
“The evening has yet to start,” said Lady Danbury, gleefully. “The Smythe-Smiths have seemed to flip the thruppence on its head, allowing the hired musicians to play first before their charming girls regale us with their talents. I believe the rest of the evening will be dedicated to marvelling at their gifts.”
“Ah,” responded Lady Bridgerton with dismay. Mister Bridgerton lost his mirth as well but Lord seemed not to have been listening at all, his eyes remained on her. “How fortunate.”
“Fortunate indeed,” Lady Danbury took Lady Bridgerton's arm as they both entered the music room.
As she turned to face Anthony she could see the worry in his gaze.
“Shall I escort you inside?” he asked, softly.
“Ah—I—Perhaps I can meet you inside. I need a moment.”
“Kate?” he said.
“I will be inside shortly. Do not worry.”
Mary walked up behind him. “Perhaps you can escort Edwina inside, Lord Bridgerton. I need a word with my daughter.”
Both Anthony and Edwina looked pinched in the face at the suggestion.
Kate almost laughed.
It was not a few months ago when she was the one who was forced to be in Lord Bridgerton's presence despite the discomfort caused by her urge to flee the premises and thereby her own feelings whenever he so much as looked at her.
Edwina smiled graciously as Anthony offered his arm with a gallant bow leaving Kate alone with Mary.
“Are you well dearest? If the storm is troubling you then—”
“The storm?” Kate's eyes widened. Had Mary noticed her black mood? Had her stepmother known all along that this fear of hers had never left her?
“I don't know if you remember but they used to give you such a fright as a child. You grew past it, of course. I just worry that after your accident you might feel ill with the weather being as it is.”
“Oh!” Kate gasped. She could not tell if she was disappointed or relieved. Disappointed that her mama had not realised or relieved that she had done so well in hiding her fears. And then there was her accident. She had not thought of that. It was a perfectly serviceable excuse for her behaviour. “Oh yes! It is—well I did not wish to trouble anyone. And it is a lovely night.”
Despite her words Mary seemed decidedly troubled.
“Kate you ought not have come tonight if you felt out of sorts. It is not too far away from your fall. You had a perfectly reasonable excuse to stay at home.
“Mama it is not so great a trial to accompany you and Edwina to this night of—” Kate tried to find the proper word. “entertainment. You are enjoying yourself aren't you?”
“Of course.” Mary was doing an admirable job of suppressing her laugh. “I see why Lady Danbury was so eager for us to accompany her. One does not enjoy such amusements and not wish to share their delight.”
Misery does love company, she thought. Kate was fonder still of enduring her misery in solitude.
“Indeed. Still, I believe I shall search out the library for a small reprieve from the festivities.”
“Or I can call for the carriage if your head aches. It can always return for us when—”
“No no.” Kate insisted. “I wish to return home with you all tonight. I only need a moment.”
Mary nodded. “Take as long as you need, dear. I do not imagine anyone will notice your absence with the evening's diversions.”
And for once Kate was grateful for how easy it was for her to blend into the background.
The Smythe-Smiths had a lovely library with an extensive selection of pamphlets and books on musicology. Kate chose not to dwell on the irony.
The quietude soothed her.
Kate had never been good at being quiet, being patient. It did not come to her naturally. Like many of her other skills it was taught by necessity. After Appa died she could no longer be the restless girl who roamed palace gardens unattended, who rode and hunted whenever she pleased. She honed the control she had learned from her dance guru and she forced her coltish limbs into stillness. Focused her busy mind on the unending tasks ahead of her.
It was why she took to horseback every morning. To calm the restless creature that still lived within. Ever since her fall, however, her family had been cautious. They could not forbid her from riding entirely. She would not allow it. She could, however, concede to abstaining when the weather was poor as an allowance to her mother's nerves and sister's fear.
It was an allowance she now regretted.
Had she ridden early in the morning before the storm set in she would not be so unsettled now.
Nevermind that she often rode in poor weather, that without the shame and confusion of what transpired between her and Anthony she would have never tried to make such a dangerous jump. There was simply no other reasonable explanation for why an experienced horsewoman such as herself would suffer such a grisly fall.
Kate accepted fault where it existed. No one knew of her fear of thunderstorms or of what passed between her and Lord Bridgerton the night before. Well Mary knew of the first bit Kate behaved as though it was a childhood fear she had aged out of and her mama followed suit. She also knew of the last bit but she did not know when the night spent together occurred. All that anyone truly knew was that she went riding in the rain and had a fall. It naturally followed that they blamed the rain for her fall rather than her nerves, her fear, and her guilt.
She could not help but wonder how much of her life and her relationship with her sister and mama would be easier if she were not so prone to secrecy. If keeping her human imperfections wasn't akin to protecting them in her eyes.
Kate searched the shelves for something familiar. Something that would calm her before she returned to the music room. She found a strange book of fairytales and settled on a plush leather armchair in the far corner of the room.
After reading a grisly tale of a devious cat and an overly trusting mouse Kate shut the book. She was about to return the book and find something less gruesome when the door opened.
A sigh of relief escaped her mouth when she saw him. Anthony. Truth be told there was no one else in the world she wished to see right now.
“My lord.”
“Kathani.” He closed the door before venturing in. “You did not return.”
“It has not been so long, my lord.”
“Anthony,” he corrected her. He was insistent on calling each other by their given names. “Call me Anthony.”
She ignored him, “I simply wished to read for a little before I returned.”
“Am I intruding?” he asked though he made no move to retreat.
“Yes,” she said bluntly. “But I will give you leave this once.”
“Just this once?” he asked as he neared her.
“Perhaps more than once,” she relented. “Perhaps very often.”
“Do not give me such allowances, Kathani, or I will become quite the nuisance.”
“You need not become what you already are,” Kate replied. “And I am already quite fond of what you are.”
The tips of his ears reddened and she could see the pinkness in his cheeks in the candlelight. It was a delight to fluster him so.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
He peered down at the book at the side table with a furrowed brow.
“You are reading fairy tales? Grim? What sort of fairy tales are grim?”
“These,” answered Kate. “They are not to my liking. I was about to choose something new when you entered.”
“Allow me.”
Kate's gaze was fixed on his retreating figure; his broad shoulders, the wide expanse of his back. She did not get to admire his marvellous form for too long before he spun around with a boyish glint in his eyes.
“This old favourite will do I think.”
As he returned to her Anthony lifted her from the chair, and in one swift move took her vacated seat before settling her on top of his lap. He swung her about as though she weighed nothing at all. It sent a sweet thrill through her body how easily he handled her. From his smirk she could tell that he noticed how he affected her. From the way his grip tightened on her waist she could tell that he liked it.
In the library of members of the Ton who were at best associates rather than friends it was best that their desire remain muted. His hands fell from her waist and went to the book he had picked from the shelf.
“What is this?” she pointed at the book in his hand.
“Benedict and I read this so many times. Our governess made us at first. We would much rather be outside playing, of course, but she assured us that well read young men became well liked gentlemen.”
Kate smiled. It sounded like the kind of nonsense you told children to get them to be quiet and do as they were told. She was sure she had said some such things to Edwina in the past.
“We ended up liking it so much that we even read it in our spare time. In retrospect passing the novel on to Colin was a dreadful idea.”
She looked at the title Gulliver's Travels.
“I have not read this one before,” said Kate.
“Oh? Then perhaps I should retrieve something you're more familiar with. Do you have a preference?”
“The one you chose is fine.” Kate said, both because she did not wish for him to get up and also because she wanted to read this book that he once read as a child.
She could almost picture him now with his overly tidy shirt and his overly tidy hair, his tongue between his lips and his ears sticking out as he read. This was a piece of him she did not know and for whom she found a sudden thirst for understanding.
Anthony brushed a bit of hair from her face.
“Do you want me to read to you? I remember you said your father—”
“You remember that?” she asked, absurdly touched.
“I remember everything you've ever said to me.”
“I'm sure there are a few things in there you could stand to forget.”
Anthony shook his head, “Not a single word.”
Kate was about to respond when a flash of lightning made her jump. She clutched onto his jacket as her heart raced.
“Kate,” Anthony tutted. “if you did not wish to come tonight you could have feigned an illness of some sort or—”
She shook her head, “I wouldn't do that. Not when Edwina was so thrilled about tonight. I could not disappoint her. Besides, I am perfectly well. I swear it.”
“Kate,” sighed Anthony. “Please do not lie to me. We have always been honest with one another. Even when it was painful. Even when it was cruel. I would not like for that to change.”
“I am not—” Kate flushed. She was not lying to him but perhaps she was lying to herself. It then followed, to a point, that she was indeed lying to him.
“You know how I feel about storms,” she said quietly. “I can manage them in public but the combination of the music and thunder…”
Anthony gently took her hand from the lapels of his jacket and one by one he pulled her glove from her fingertips. She gazed at the minor furrow of his brow as he eased the fabric off her hand and placed it gently on the round side table. He then took her hand in his.
His touch was a balm to her restless soul.
“I do not like thunderstorms either.” Anthony announced.
Kate blinked. “You never said.”
“It is a rather recent thing, darling.”
Kate flushed at the endearment. He used them so easily these days. As though he was always meant to call her sweet things. That would take some time for her to grow accustomed to.
“Recent?” Kate asked. She could not think of anything that could have passed in the recent months that could have—oh. “I did not know you were still troubled by my fall.”
For some reason he looked wounded.
It was a foolish thing to say, perhaps. She did not remember her fall and she was asleep in the days that everyone spent worrying over her but she noticed the difference in the way everyone treated her in the aftermath. Mary woke at dawn every morning before she left for her rides and sat on the stairs waiting for her return. Edwina still fretted over her headaches even as they grew more infrequent. In some ways it startled her that they cared that much. It shouldn't and yet it did.
Kate knew that they loved her. Of course they were worried. It did not make it any less strange to be the one who was worried over instead of the one to do the worrying—
“Of course I am, Kate. Sometimes I think of what could have happened had I not found you when I did and I—it does not bear thinking of.”
—Somehow she found Anthony's fretfulness easier to bear.
With Mary and Edwina in the role of caretaker she felt out of place and she could see that they felt the same. It was as though they were all trying to fit into a dress tailored too small for their bodies. Awkward and uncomfortable.
As much as Edwina and her mama wished to care for her they did not know how to anymore than Kate knew how to let herself be cared for by them.
It was different with Anthony.
He was much more overt with it than her family. He required frequent stops to sit on benches whenever they promenaded, making certain that he walked with a parasol in case the heat was a bother. She always blinked, reminding him that she was from India and that even English summers were rather chilly to her. Not that it ever registered to him. Instead he would hold the parasol over her head as though she were a delicate bairn prone to overheating.
The entire ritual would end with Kate grabbing the thing from his hand and snapping it shut while he looked affronted.
It showed up in other ways too.
The way he always took her arm at balls. How diligently he trailed after her offering lemonade, grapes and whatever sandwiches were available at the event. His frequent inquiries after her health. How gently he cradled her head in his hands whenever they snuck away to kiss.
Kate had witnessed him with his siblings. He was as much father to them as he was brother. It might be that this sort of cosseting came naturally to him.
Yet it did not feel the same.
There was a paternalistic air to his concern for his brothers and sisters. She even witnessed this in the care he displayed towards her sister during their courtship. At the time she had simply assumed that it was just his way. Now she was less sure. The difference, she surmised, was the intensity of his actions. With his siblings, his mother, Edwina he treated their care as a duty to be fulfilled, a line to be crossed off on a list after completion. With Kate he behaved as though his entire day would be ruined if she was not well, if she was not happy and safe.
Instead of feeling like a child being coddled she simply felt loved.
“You love me,” said Kate.
It was not a question but he answered anyway. “Madly.”
Kate lifted their joined hands to her lips before kissing his hand. Gazing up at him with gentle eyes she hoped he could feel her longing. Anthony inhaled. She could see his jaw clench. Would that they were married already and she would not have to hide to accept his comfort.
“In two weeks neither of us will have to brave these storms alone.”
Anthony let out a breath. “You do not know how eagerly I am counting the days.”
“Of course I do.” Kate responded. “For I am counting them just the same. Perhaps even more fervently than you, my lord.”
“I would not make that wager, my lady.”
“I am not yet your lady.”
“You have always been my lady,” he growled. Kate shivered. The air darkened along with his gaze. “And soon all will know it.”
“Anthony,” Kate whispered.
Anthony reached out to cup her cheek. His hand was so large it felt like it covered her entire face. His thumb brushed against her cheek and Kate gasped.
It was madness how quickly this passion overwhelmed her. It burned through her like fire, hot and blistering. Surely this would fade at some point. If it did not they would soon turn to ash.
She couldn't wait anymore. Kate leaned forward to kiss him. He sighed into her mouth. It was surprisingly chaste the way he pressed his lips against hers. One of his hands tightened around hers as he used the other to gently cup the back of her head. They breathed into each other's mouths as though it were thence from which they received the very air they breathed.
How was it possible to feel this way? As though she had not truly lived until she met him. She whimpered at the thought. Anthony groaned in response, finally kissing her in truth. He licked his way into her mouth as she shuddered, running her hands through his hair before resting them on his shoulders. He overwhelmed every last one of her senses until she could think of nothing but Anthony: his touch, his scent, the sound of his pleasure. She clutched onto his shoulders desperate to deepen the kiss somehow when—
Bang!
Kate jumped. This time at a discordant clash of… were those cymbals?
Anthony's eyes were wide as he stared at her. He did this every time they kissed. Behaved as though she had given him some sort of favour he could not repay. Kate struggled to control her breathing and gather her thoughts. It seemed that every time she was in close proximity with this man her thoughts became a scattered morass of nonsense.
“Do the ladies play the drums?” asked Kate, finally. It was a strange instrument for a young lady but perhaps their parents were the bohemian sort.
Anthony winced. “Ah. No. I believe that is Miss Marigold on the pianoforte.”
“Oh,” said Kate, mildly horrified.
“Worry not. The musical portion of the evening is almost over,” said Anthony. “There is only Miss Rose's violin performance left.”
“Goodness,” she muttered. If their singing sounded like howling cats, the harp sounded like shattered glass and the pianoforte sounded like drums Kate shuddered to think of what a violin would sound like.
When she turned to face Anthony again the tenderness in his eyes almost brought her to tears. She did not know what she did to make him look at her thus but she wanted to keep doing it and doing it in perpetuity.
“We ought to return,” she said, reluctantly.
“We ought to remain where we are.” Anthony countered. “Your headache caused you to seek refuge in the library did it not?”
“Just so.”
“Well if we are caught it will verily be that I found you seeking refuge amongst the books.”
“Is that so?” she asked. “And how did you stumble upon the library? Were you in the mood for some light reading?”
“Is it not evident that I searched high and low for you, which of course accounts for the time I've spent missing, before I remembered that my fiancée is well read, and as I sought to bid her goodbye before my departure. The library was my last stop.”
“Your departure?”
"Indeed. I told everyone that I meant to have an early night. It is only natural that I could not leave without wishing my intended pleasant dreams.”
“How devoted you are.”
Anthony nodded. “A fact known by all, I assure you.”
Laughter bubbled up in her throat. He was a dreadful liar. Just terrible. There were so many tales in his story that a single poke at one would cause the entire stack of blocks to collapse. Why Kate had come up with better falsehoods at half his age. It followed that a man titled and answerable to no one but king and country would not have the talent for skillful lies.
Truthfully, they need not lie at all. They were already affianced which made an interlude such as this expected if not wholly accepted. A mere suggestion that she sought refuge from her headache and he happened upon her and offered to escort her back would do.
(Here was how it would truly go:
Kate would fall asleep on Anthony's chest as he read to her. She would not see him gaze at her and play with the strands of her curls as she slept. She would not witness him put his finger to his lips as Mary barged in in search of her. She would only hear him rumble: you must wake, my love. It is time for you to take your leave. She would only have fuzzy memories of clutching onto his shirt before she shifted in his lap, opening her eyes to his warm smile, jumping a little at the presence of her endlessly patient stepmother before babbling out her practised excuse.
But that would all happen later.
For now, she would merely roll her eyes, for there was one explanation that neither of them would be able to give a proper answer to if asked—)
“Is there a reason then to explain why I am in your embrace?”
Anthony grinned. His entire demeanour made her feel so light and airy she was sure she could float to the ceiling. She held onto him tighter, this remarkable man who had managed to keep her safe on the ground, the storm long gone from her mind, as she awaited his response.
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before whispering:
“Because I love you. Why else?”