Chapter Text
The marriage mart has mostly always been a more sophisticated affair of superficiality and trade. A tradition that upholds a man's choice and while it seems the same for a woman, in its actual sense, it seldom is. Ladies are raised with skills that make them eligible, they are groomed and they are taught a pretence they have to play to perfection for acquiring a decent match because a decent match meant a relatively better life. Not to say there aren't any exceptions and not to say true love hasn't graced this mundanely frivolous yet sophisticated venture in the form of some really well-matched couples who define what it means to be soulmates. Yet, in a general sense, it is what it is - a superficiality. In the same vein, a thought lingers in her mind, said in her mother's words and while she believes everything of what she has said is mostly wrong and the opposite should automatically be deemed correct, she cannot help but ponder over what she has always found offensive is ironically the truth she sees reflected all around.
A woman's charm lies in her art of seduction. Subtle enough to not come across as desperate or scandalous but strong enough to draw a man's gaze and keep it.
Her mother had been right even if the notion in its entirety is so very wrong, because she sees it around her. The fan, the deliberate attention drawn to the bosom and the gentleman's eyes drawn to it, it is almost painful how the debutantes with much work left to do on their intellect are actually so adept at using their body to draw in suitors because they are taught nothing better. Because a good match means a good life and it does not matter if the wedding night quenches the lust the men were drawn with, does not matter if every interaction further is just duty to sire a heir and a few more children because at the end of it, the man shall retire to the beds of courtesans and prostitutes or wherever they wish and the woman is left with her duties to raise the kids and look pretty. If she thinks about it, it is a lane that will take her to different depths than she needs in the current moment, which shall lead her to lose her focus which she cannot do so now. So she turns her eyes away from the other debutantes only for it to land on the dance floor where her eldest is now in the arms of the Viscount who is supposed to be courting her youngest. It makes her halt and makes her watch. And it is a good thing because it opens her eyes that have seemingly been shut until now!
_
When she lost her husband, all her grief had submerged her in silence and darkness with only his memories anchoring her even amidst it all. She had been a wreck, sobbing, mourning him, praying and pleading for him to come back, to not leave her so soon after having promised her seven lifetimes and cursing him for returning just silence as response to her plea. She had forgotten the two lives that depended on her. She had forgotten herself. And by the time she found a little of herself back to function and look beyond her grief, her Kate had already grown, holding their house with all its cracks on her broad shoulders, looking every bit her Aniket's daughter. She had almost sobbed again at the sight, regret clouding her heart. She had done the only thing she could, had apologized and apologized even if her child refused to fault her and forgave her, holding her close even when she had been so undeserving of it. She had vowed then that she would be her very best when it came to Kate.
And now here she is, at the verge of almost breaking her vow, having been blind yet again because Kate made sure everything was alright yet Kate's opposition against the Viscount did not even make her halt and consider it. She had brushed it aside, let herself be blind despite being better at understanding the workings of the marriage mart and being of sound mind and keener sense of observation enough. Now, as she watches her girl on the dance floor, watches the way her eyes blaze and soften at the same time as she looks at him, watches the way she sways towards him, the way her breath hitches a little when he pulls her a little closer than what is deemed proper. She watches the way desire swirls in her eyes, the way longing follows. She watches the way she lets him hold her, the way her sharp edges and high walls falter when she is in his arms. She watches her and she sees the glimpse of the softness that her Kate was when she had first lain eyes on her and instantly accepted and loved her as her daughter. Even in the sadness in her eyes, even in the longing and even in the manner in which the words are exchanged between them, she is more free in his arms than she has been after Aniket passed away.
There are more words exchanged between them now, a spark between them that has just seemed to burn further in the way a silent pain rises in her eyes while a panicked storm rises in his. She bows to him while he continues to look at her with the same panic in his eyes even as his chest heaves like he is finding it difficult to breathe. He walks away and she goes behind him, her shoulders a little slumped.
She knows not what they have spoken. She knows not what they have left unsaid. She knows just one thing though - The Viscount does not love her youngest and just maybe he was never meant for her either. Because what she just saw between him and Kate, it is a story she has lived. Because she sees what she and Aniket had when they first met in the way Kate and the Viscount look at each other.
Her eyes turn to Edwina who is looking on with a confused frown. She will have to speak to her youngest, has to rid her of what knows is infatuation. She let it be all along because she felt it shall blossom into love after their marriage. But now she knows, she cannot allow things to go down that lane. Because infatuation can be rid not true love.
Her eyes then inadvertently fall on Lady Bridgerton who looks deeply concerned as she converses with Lady Danbury and it is enough for her to know, they suspect what she has just gleaned. But they will not outright say it. They shall take subtle courses and drop cues. They shall nudge but gently. Ultimately, they may or may not be successful. But she is not them! She cannot stand here and be subtle. She cannot when she still does not see when Kate and the Viscount have something so primal between them, why would he want to court Edwina. She cannot stand here, hoping fate shall intervene and guide them.
The Viscount has been charming, he is not obnoxious and he is decent. But in one dance, she sees the real him. The way there was longing but also a will. There had been a constant battle in his eyes and stance, his body pulling and holding Kate close while his eyes tried their damnest to look away. Now that she sees it, she also realises how she has never seen him look like that at her youngest. With Edwina, his face is a polite mask, his voice soft and gentle. It is genuine not saccharine but it is not romantic. It is not love and he does not see the real her. Not like he sees Kate.
Lady Bridgerton is wise and a wonderful lady but she is naive if she thinks a gentle breeze is enough to sway the path of a gushing waterfall. Because the Viscount is not unaware of what he feels for Kate yet something is keeping him, forcing him to take a path exactly opposite. She will not stand here while he goes ahead with what she now sees as something that shall destroy both her daughters! She will not stand for it.
She needs to speak with the Viscount. She owes it to her daughters, both of them. Yes, Mary needs to finally step up.