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Everyone had remarked that it was a lovely night. Cool enough that you could remain out of doors without growing overheated and yet warm enough that you could do so without needing a shawl. Kate knew that Violet Bridgerton must be pleased. This was the perfect weather for a ball.
Perfect weather had not been Kate's experience since arriving in London. Everything here was dreary, wet, cold. Except for tonight. Tonight defied the odds. For once when she disagreed with remarks about the weather it was not because she found it too chilly. No. To Kate, the night had been overly heated. Heated looks and heated words. Even the air that she had shared with Lord Bridgerton, as they practically breathed into each other's mouths, had been warm.
She hated him. She hated him. She did not have another choice. Not when the alternative would make her the worst sort of person, the worst sort of sister.
The water that descended from her eyes were nothing new. Some days it felt like this island floated upon a sea of her tears. Kate was half convinced that the shores would dry upon her departure. And she would depart. For she was sure now more than ever that she could not stay here. It did not matter how much Edwina begged and pleaded. Kate would be gone the moment she wed.
At that the tears grew heavier. Kate felt like an even greater traitor. Here she was crying over a man that everyone thought she despised. A man that Edwina seemed to care for deeply. Anthony Bridgerton. Her sister pinned every hope and dream on him as though he were the only key to her truest happiness. And was that not Kate’s duty? To secure her sister's happiness. How cruel of her to want him in the face of that. How cruel of her to be in this position where she could think of little other than him. How cruel of her to—well, not that. Never that.
Kate swiped at her eyes, angry at the thought that she couldn't even complete. She sniffled. Turning around rapidly, she spotted Edwina sleeping blissfully through her distress. She breathed a sigh of relief. She did not want anyone to see her like this. Least of all her sister who had loved her well her entire life. She had always treated Kate as a sister. She would be horrified to know who Kate was shedding these tears over.
A light tread of footsteps caused her to swipe at her eyes again. To be caught like this by anyone would raise questions. Questions she did not wish to answer. If it were Mary, Kate would have no choice but to lie. Mary had not seen her cry in years and she would grow alarmed at the sight of her like this . If it were Lady Danbury, then she would be forced to stand here and listen to one of the old lady's many lectures. If it were Lord Bridgerton…well she sent a prayer to the sky that it wasn't him.
As the sound of footsteps neared Kate spun around and oh—she had never been the lucky sort.
A strange sort of anger began to rise within her. One that had begun to overtake her of late. Her palms grew clammy and her heart beat such a quick pace that she was almost lightheaded. How dare he! How dare he sneak into her room in the middle of the night! What was he thinking? Did he realise how this looked?
“Lord Bridgerton,” she hissed, as he stepped out onto the balcony. “What is the meaning of this?”
“We need to speak,” he said, just as quietly.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Oh no. “Your sister.”
Lord Bridgerton looked at her, brows furrowed. He was so beautiful in the moonlight. The night cast shadows on his pale face, the wrinkle of his brow, the shadow under his nose. A chiaroscuro that even the best painter would struggle to replicate.
“My sister?” he asked.
“Will she speak?” Kate pressed, nervous of the answer.
“Daphne?” his face cleared. “She won't say a word.”
A feeling of relief settled upon her as well as another feeling she struggled to name. One that felt a lot like disappointment. Kate blinked, a little embarrassed that tears had begun to fall from her eyes again.
“You should not be here,” she said, her voice thankfully steady. If she managed to get him to leave then maybe he would not see the state he had left her in.
“We did not finish our conversation.”
Kate turned and looked out into the starry sky. “Do you ever think, my lord? Or are you ruled solely by foolish impulse with no regard for the consequences.”
“Pardon me?” he asked, seemingly offended by her question.
He drew closer to her and she almost trembled. The anger—and it could not be anything else—seemed to overtake her body once more.
“My sister lies in the bed behind us.” She felt rather than saw Lord Bridgerton whip around swiftly. It was all Kate could do not to laugh. Did he forget that she and Edwina shared a room? “Your presence here could force your hand. Unless that is your plan.”
“What could you possibly mean by that?” he asked, stiffly.
“If you are caught here then Edwina will have no choice but to marry you. She will be effectively trapped. Was that your intention?”
“Miss Sharma—”
“No?” she asked. “I imagined not. My sister does not need to be trapped by you. You have wooed her skillfully. She still has hopes that you two will find yourselves settled in a love match—”
“She does not—”
Kate cut him off. “So if you are not here to hasten the matter along then it is as I said. You are incapable of thinking of how your actions affect others. All you do is think about yourself.”
“And you,” he whispered. “I think of little other than you.”
“You forget yourself!” she snapped, ignoring the way her heart soared at his verbalisation of her earlier thoughts.
“I forget everything when I am with you,” he continued. “I'm sure you have noticed. That is what I am here to discuss, Miss Sharma.”
Kate discreetly wiped her eyes as she managed to gather her composure once more. Placing her hands on the railing she bolstered herself. “There is nothing to discuss.”
“There is everything to discuss if you would stop being so afraid of this!”
“Afraid?” she huffed. “We are back to this?”
“Was I wrong then?” he asked. “You are beautiful,” Kate inhaled sharply but he continued on, oblivious to how affected she was by just one word. “Kinder than I thought you to be. Clever. Whenever anyone compliments Miss Edwina on one of her many accomplishments she makes certain we all know she learned it from you. You may be the most obstinate, quarrelsome, headstrong woman I know but you are also the most capable. The most self assured. You had no reason not to tie a dance card on your wrist. Enter the marriage mart alongside your sister. Permit m—any man who wished to court you the honour of allowing them a dance.”
Kate looked over at him. His eyes were arrogantly confident that he had her had. This man who behaved as though he knew everything. As if he could see right through her. He painted a pretty picture. And a false one.
She could marry a widow, perhaps. One with children or one who needed children. It was the suitable thing to do for a woman of her advanced age. And yet there was no guarantee that any of those men would love her. Perhaps he was right about her. Perhaps she was afraid. For Kate, there was no marriage without love and if she knew anything, it was that she was not an easy person to love. She had had to work so hard to maintain the love she already had. To be good enough and useful enough that it would not wither and fade.
Kate stared at his hand on the edge of the balcony as it twitched closer to hers. They could almost touch if she inched her fingers closer to him. She was tempted to. And this was the problem. It was a temptation that would take everything from her. Lose her the love that her sister and stepmother had given her so kindly and graciously. By being selfish and wanting something for herself—a man who did not even want her beyond his rakish desires—Kate could lose everything.
That was the fear marriage inspired in her. The balance she kept was a delicate one. A single misstep on this tightrope could have her hurtling to her doom. To make such effort again? It was tireless and thankless. And, for Kate, there was no guarantee of a happy ending. Not when she had so very little to offer.
“And where shall I get a dowry to entice these men you have fabricated in your imagination? The men who wished to court some beastly spinster of no consequence?” she asked, relishing in the way his smug smile fell from his face. “Ah. You have not considered that have you?”
“Is this another trick?” he asked. “Another ruse you have concocted to keep me away from your sister?”
“Ruse? I have no ruse, you—Edwina has a dowry,” she hissed. Then again that was a ruse. Edwina's dowry was contingent on her marrying a man such as Lord Bridgerton. “Her grandparents have…graciously decided to bestow one on her.”
“Then where is yours?” he asked, so impudent that she was of half a mind to toss him over the balcony. It would not be a long fall. She leaned over to see but all she could see was dark space beneath them. Hmm. Perhaps it would be a long fall.
Better not then. She didn't need another thing to regret in the morning.
Just as she was about to straighten herself she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, steadying her. Her skin heated under her nightgown and this time she could not pretend that her body reacted solely out of anger. No. There was something more there. Something that she still did not wish to name. That she still did not wish to accept.
“Unhand me!” He stepped away from her promptly but her body refused to cooperate. She was still breathless and his eyes fell to where her chest heaved. “You are shameless.”
“I am not—” his nose flared as he looked up at her. “It was an act of concern. That is all.”
“You ogle me due to your…concern?” she asked. “How fortunate I am to have such a gallant rescuer.”
“Stop pretending that I am alone in my ogling! I am not alone in any of this! I—” like a balloon that had been stuck with a pin, all the energy seemed to have sapped out of him. He cast a sad figure. Defeated. And it was she who did that to him. Kate looked away. “I do not know why I came here.”
Tonight was not only fraught for her, she remembered. Their folly affected him too. He had spoken to his sister. The Duchess. She had seen them together. The Duchess was lovely but she was also his little sister. She must have thoughts about this and Kate highly doubted that she would have been shy about letting those thoughts be heard.
“Nor do I,” she said quietly.
The silence that fell upon them was unsettling. There was no anger left, no pain, no desire. Only a deep misery that cloaked them like a fog. Kate did not know what to say to make that cloud of regret disperse. Except. “You should go, my lord. Before my sister wakes.”
Anthony stepped towards the balcony again, sliding next to her. “Not until you answer.”
“Answer what?” she asked. “Do you want to be caught?”
“Everyone is asleep,” he said dismissively. “Why did your grandparents give Miss Edwina a dowry and not you?”
“Edwina's grandparents,” Kate corrected him. “Not mine. They owe me nothing. Do not fret, my lord. My sister does not share my unfortunate circumstance. You are safe. Nothing I have done to try to get her to understand what you are truly offering her has worked. You have won, my lord. You will marry her and ruin any possibility of her happiness as you both want.”
“I'm not going to marry your bloody sister!”
Kate gasped. “Then why did you invite her here? Why did you raise her hopes and give her such expectations?”
Lord Bridgerton gawked at her. He shook his head before chuckling bitterly. “What do you want from me? I am nothing but a rake, and nothing but a fool. My character is muddier than dirt on the ground to you. And now I am giving you your wish and you still complain. Does nothing ever please you?”
“It is not about me!” came her hushed exclamation. “I want you both to accept that you do not suit! That you want different things. It is not about pleasing me. It's about my sister getting the life she wants. The life she deserves. And...I cannot say that you deserve the misery you have claimed for yourself but...you should have the life you want too,” That admission made her shoulders slump and she repeated. “It is not about me.”
“Everything is about you!” he blurted out. "Since meeting you I have not made a single decision that wasn't somehow about you. Even this! I cannot marry your sister. Not when marrying her means…”
Kate did not want to ask. She asked anyway. “Means what?”
“Means that I will never escape you.”
“That is what you want?” she asked, her heart shattering in her chest. Kate ignored it. The organ was fragile and barely tended to. She could not pay attention to every pang and break. “To escape me?”
“What I want is of no import,” he replied.
“Yes it is!” she argued, hotly. “How could it not be? You want so desperately to be rid of me that you would insult my sister by discarding her. If that is—I will go.”
“What?” he said, flatly.
Tears welled in her eyes once more and good heavens, would they never dry?
“If it is me who—my sister longs for a love match. You long for a marriage with no feeling. For reasons beyond my understanding you both think it possible that you can persuade each other into getting your way. Perhaps she is right and she will charm you into loving her. If you think there is even a chance then I will not stand in your way. I will not wait for the wedding. I'll purchase my return ticket to India when we return to Mayfair. I will give the both of you a fair chance.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“Don't ask me what I want!” she cried. “What I want has never mattered. Not to you or anyone else. Don't pretend that it does now.”
“Kate, please stop,” he said, his eyes tormented. “I cannot bear it.”
Before she could ask him what he meant he took her face in his hands. She wanted to push him off. Upbraid him for adding on to his already numerous improprieties of the night. For making her succumb to his gentle touch.
She had spent half the night longing to touch his hand but this was much better. She hated that it was better. She did not deserve this care but for once, she decided to be weak and allow it. Let Anthony brushed her tears from her eyes. She could barely see him through the blur of them. How awful. The image of him could be so comforting at times.
“I cannot bear the sight of you weeping,” he murmured.
“I'm not crying,” she said.
“Of course,” he hummed, his fingers nuzzling her cheekbone.
“The air is dry,” she insisted. “It caused my eyes to water.”
His hands were so gentle with her as he wiped her tears and brushed her hair from her face. He behaved as though she were precious silk to be handled with care. Priceless. No one ever treated her like that which just made her cry even more.
When her tears finally subsided and his hands fell from her face Kate was horrified with herself. She could not stand the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her. There was no place for tenderness between them. “Lord Bridgerton I—”
“Are we not beyond that, Kate?”
“Anthony,” she sighed and he sighed with her, relieved. “Forgive me for this display. It was inappropriate and unlike me.”
“To cry?” he smiled ruefully. “Doesn't everyone?”
“Not in company,” she admitted.
“Ah.”
It felt like too much of an admittance but she had already said it. Cut herself open for him to stare at. She felt suddenly bereft of his touch and embarrassed for the neediness of it. “I meant what I said. About leaving if it would help.”
“And I meant what I said, about not marrying your sister,” he replied. “I cannot love her. That will never be written in the stars for Miss Edwina and I. If that is truly what she wants then I must set her free.”
“You cannot know that,” said Kate. She did not know why she was fighting so hard for this other than that he was what her sister wanted. He was what they both wanted. But Anthony had already made his choice as Edwina did. They chose each other. Edwina was what he wanted too. She was being selfish standing in their way.
How could she claim that she was protecting Edwina when her sister did not want her protection. When she was so sure of the possibility of love. Kate barely chaperoned the pair. Perhaps he had said or done something to convince Edwina of his affections. Kate tried not to feel ill as she thought of it but perhaps his rakish looks were not reserved for Kate. Perhaps...
“I do know,” said Anthony. “If I thought such a thing were possible between Miss Edwina and myself I would never have allowed the courtship to continue.”
That was so unkind that Kate could scarcely stand to look at him.
“You think I am cruel?” he asked, as though reading her mind. “My sister says that love is a feeling you can't escape. That it comes to the surface whether you want it to or not. I have never wanted that. Your sister did not seem to either. But if she does, if she thinks she can convince me otherwise, then I will speak with her tomorrow and see to ending our courtship. It is the right thing to do.”
Kate did not know what to think. Edwina would be heartbroken. Her sister had fantasies about Anthony. About his house, and lands, and title. This was meant to be her fairytale. And yet it wasn't. Edwina did not yet see it—so caught up was she in her fantasies of Anthony as a gallant prince—but Kate did.
And she saw something else too.
Anthony allowing her sister the freedom to find what she truly sought might be the first truly gallant thing he had done since knowing him. Not in that pompous way of saving a seemingly distressed damsel who was lost in the park at dawn or extravagantly gifting a horse to a young debutante who said she loved animals in a ploy for her attention. Those instances were all show and no substance. But this, it was something noble.
A sacrifice.
Whatever fixation he had on marrying the season's diamond, he was willing to let it go for the sake of her sister's happiness.
“Thank you,” said Kate, quietly. “I know you did not love Edwina as she hoped but I'm glad you respect her enough to show her this kindness.”
“Kate,” he sighed. She looked up at him and that unbearable tenderness was still there in his eyes. And there was something else too. Exasperation. “You are too clever for this.”
“For wh—”
Anthony wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. This time she didn't wiggle out of his hold or scold him in furious whispers. She simply waited.
Anthony leaned in, his breath hot against her lips. Unlike earlier in his study, she did not feel like her skin was on fire. Instead she felt a warmth that covered her from head to toe, seeping into her skin until she felt like light itself. Kate closed the distance between them, brushing her lips against his. Her tongue darted out just to taste her lips before she pulled away, shocked at herself. For daring. For choosing.
Anthony's eyes were so dark as he stared at her that they were almost black. He pulled her closer and Kate pressed her lips to his again. This time she did not hold back and neither did he. He coaxed her mouth open and licked into it. Kate moaned. Before she could pull away Anthony swallowed her cries with his mouth. It was muffled enough that they would alert no one but Kate found that she did not care either way. Lady Danbury could march in here with the Queen herself and Kate would not tear herself away from him.
Her hands travelled to his hair and Kate tugged at it, pulling him closer. This time it was Anthony who groaned into her mouth. His hands trailed up her back, clutching her body to his.
Kate pulled away to gasp for air and Anthony's mouth fell to her neck. He kissed her neck softly before taking a deep breath. He inhaled the side of her neck like one smelling a flower for the first time.
“You smell glorious. I have dreamed of you every day and every night since that night at the Conservatory Ball. And when I dream, I dream of the way you smell. I can't think of anything else but this. Your mesmerising, intoxicating scent.” He took another deep breath and Kate whimpered before pulling him back to her lips again. He obliged and kissed the breath from her lungs.
She had not expected this tonight. Or ever. Of course, she had fantasised as any woman might but she never thought that she would ever have this. His hands, and his mouth, and his sweet breath on hers. Kate felt incandescent.
When they separated neither of them could speak. This stolen moment was as strange and wondrous as the sky above them. Kate felt giddy and scared and guilty and ravenous all at once. It was too much to contain in one body.
“We shouldn't have done that,” Kate said, finally, even thought she couldn't feel it, couldn't believe it. In fact it felt like they should have done this a long time ago. Like this was something she should be doing for the rest of her life.
“Why?” he asked. “Why when we both wanted to to?”
“My sister. My mama. Lady Danbury. Your family. The Queen. Lady Whistledown. The Ton.” Kate listed them on her fingers.
“Hang them all,” he said. “Do not say that we should not have done that. Not unless…did you not—”
“It was perfect,” she admitted. “I never thought a kiss could feel like that. It was like—”
“Belonging,” he said.
“Yes,” she breathed. It was as if he had taken a brief sojourn within her soul. How else could he know the contents of her heart like this? “That does not change our situation.”
“Kate,” he said, softly, his arms still banded around her waist. “I will fix this.”
“What?” she asked, confused. “I do not—what do you mean?”
“Do not worry. It will all be sorted in the morning,” he whispered, pressing one more kiss against her lips.
Anthony bowed—a confusing act of civility after what they just shared—before silently making his way out of her borrowed rooms. Kate stood on the balcony with her fingers pressed to her lips for a long time after.