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Kate touched her wrist and froze.
Her bangle was gone.
Her stomach plummeted.
No. No, no. This wasn't possible. She never took it off. It had been on her wrist earlier, steady and soothing. Had it not? She tried to remember the last time she'd felt the cool press of gold against her skin. During supper? During her last dance with Mr. Dorset?
Panic clawed, blurring the thoughts in her mind.
It wasn't just any bangle. It was her Amma's. The only thing Kate had left of her, the only piece of home she carried with her in the frigidity of London.
She inhaled through her nose, forcing herself to stay calm. She could not afford to make a scene, standing as she was in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by many who would pounce at the first sign of distress.
Think. She forced herself to slow down and think.
Where had she been?
She retraced her steps in her head. A dance with Mr. Dorset, an insipid conversation with one of Edwina’s suitors, avoiding Lord Bridgerton like the plague. Had it slipped off when she had escaped to the terrace for air? Or had she lost it while-
"Didi?"
She flinched at Edwina's voice.
Her sister stood beside her, brows furrowed in concern. "Is everything okay? You look a little worried."
"I am not worried," Kate replied automatically.
"Yes, you are," Edwina insisted. She could see the barely concealed panic in Kate's eyes. "Are you unwell?"
Beside her, Mary glanced over, clearly listening now. Wonderful. If she told them, Edwina would insist on searching every inch of the ballroom, and Mary would sigh in that disappointed way of hers that made Kate feel like a child again.
"I am fine," she said, quickly. A little quickly to be believable if her sister’s frown was anything to go by. "Just, it's a little warm in the ballroom."
Edwina's frown deepened even more. "Didi, it's not warm at all."
"It is tonight."
"You were just complaining about the draft."
Kate resisted the urge to groan. This was the trouble with sisters. They always noticed things, especially when they shouldn't.
"I just need some air," she said, already stepping back. "Excuse me."
She turned and walked briskly toward the exit before either Mary or Edwina could argue. The moment she stepped into the dim corridor outside the ballroom, she exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples.
I have to find it. I must.
There was no other option.
Anthony spotted it by chance.
A flash of gold against polished marble, it was half-hidden by the leg of a velvet chair. He would not have noticed it at all if he hadn't been standing at the edge of the ballroom, enduring yet another conversation with yet another debutante.
The bangle was delicate, gold engraved with green crystals. He bent and picked it up, turning it between his fingers.
It was Miss Sharma's.
He knew it instantly.
He had seen it on her wrist a hundred times, had watched her absently touch it whenever she was anxious or lost in thought.
Anthony glanced around, half expecting her to come storming through the crowd, demanding its return. But she was nowhere in sight.
He knew he should return it immediately. That would be the logical thing to do. He should walk straight to her, hand it over, and be done with it. Be done with Miss Sharma.
Instead, he rubbed his thumb over the engraving along its inner edges.
A strange feeling fluttered in his chest. He wasn't sure why. It was just a bangle, a trinket. But something about it felt important.
Important to Miss Sharma.
From their many interactions, each more charged than the previous one, he knew that Miss Sharma was not a woman prone to excess. Nor did she care for meaningless adornments. If she wore something every day, it must mean something to her.
He lifted the bangle, inspecting the engraving more closely. The script was faint, softened with time. He could barely read it.
His jaw tightened. He should not be holding this. He certainly should not be studying it like some lovesick fool.
And yet.
Anthony exhaled sharply and tucked the bangle into his coat’s pocket.
He would return it to her later. There’s no need to make a spectacle of it now. Besides, he was not so heartless as to hand it back to her in its current state. It was a little dulled from wear. It deserved to be polished, to be restored.
It was a matter of basic decency, he told himself. Nothing more.
Nothing more at all.
The first thing Kate did after leaving the ballroom was to retrace her steps.
She searched the corridor, scanning the floor for any sign of gold glinting against the candlelight. Nothing. She hurried to the terrace, heart pounding, eyes sweeping over every inch of stone. Still nothing.
By the time she returned inside, her chest was tight with frustration.
She forced herself to remain composed. The bangle had to be somewhere. Perhaps a footman had found it and given it to the host. Perhaps it had slipped beneath a table. Perhaps-
Perhaps she had lost it forever.
The thought was unbearable.
Kate barely slept that night, lying awake and replaying the evening over and over, trying to pinpoint the exact moment it had vanished. By morning, she had formed a plan.
She would not let this go.
Her bangle was all that was left of her Amma.
The next day, she returned to the Crawford estate under the guise of a polite visit. While Edwina made pleasant conversation with Lady Crawford and her daughter, Kate subtly searched every room they had occupied last night. She even feigned a need for fresh air just to examine the terrace in daylight.
No sign of her bangle.
She even made a few discreet inquiries with the staff. "Has anyone turned in a piece of jewelry? A bangle? A gold bracelet with an engraving on the inside?"
A footman frowned in thought. "No, miss. I can ask the others?"
She gave a tight nod. "Yes, please do that."
Another dead end.
Two days later, she was irritable, distracted, and beginning to lose hope.
The bangle was gone.
Her Amma's bangle, it was gone.
Kate pressed a hand to her temple, breathing deeply to will away the sadness. She would not cry over a piece of jewelry, no matter how much it meant to her.
But it felt like losing a piece of herself.
She had never been sentimental about things. She could not afford to be. But this bangle, it had been different. This will bring you happiness.
Kate had believed it.
And now, it was lost. Forever.
She swallowed hard, pushing away the ache in her chest. It was just an object. It did not change who she was.
She would survive without it.
Even if she did not quite know how.
Kate was trying to forget.
She had forced herself to stop searching, to stop reaching for the familiar weight at her wrist, to stop thinking about the way her Amma’s voice had echoed in her mind every time she touched it.
She was trying to forget.
And then Lord Bridgerton appeared in front of her, holding out the very thing she had lost.
Kate froze, her breath catching in her throat.
The bangle gleamed, brighter than she had ever seen it. It had been polished, the gold catching the afternoon sunlight, the engraving clear and unmarred.
Her vision blurred.
She barely registered what Lord Bridgerton was saying. Something about finding it in the ballroom, about wanting to return it properly. His voice was steady, practical, as if this were some ordinary exchange and not the return of the only thing in the world that had ever truly felt like hers.
Kate made a sound. It was small and choked, utterly unlike her. Before she could think, before she could stop herself, she moved.
One second, she was standing frozen. The next, she had thrown herself against him.
Anthony inhaled sharply as she collided with his chest. His arms came up instinctively, catching her as she buried her face against the fabric of his waistcoat.
Relief crashed through her like a tidal wave.
"I thought I lost it," she whispered, barely able to speak. "I thought-" She broke off, shaking her head.
Anthony did not speak. Did not move. But she felt him. Felt the tension coiled in his body, the careful stillness in his frame. As if one wrong move might startle her away.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
He was warm. Steady. His heart was beating fast, but his hands were gentle.
The moment stretched. It was too long, too intimate. And with it realization crept in, slow and unbearable.
Oh, god.
She had thrown herself into Anthony Bridgerton's arms.
Heat flooded her face.
Kate wrenched herself back so fast she nearly stumbled. She didn’t even know what she meant to say. I am mortified? I am never going to recover from this?
Anthony caught her wrist before she could flee.
"Kate," he said, low and urgent. "Stop hiding from me. Stop running away from me. Just, please. Stay."
Kate's heart pounded.
Just, please. Stay.
She should pull away. She should say something sharp to regain the upper hand. But she could not. Because his hand was still wrapped around her wrist, his fingers warm over her pulse, and she was still breathless from throwing herself into his arms like a complete and utter fool.
She swallowed hard. "I wasn't-" Her voice wavered, so she tried again. "I wasn't running away."
Anthony's brow lifted. "No?"
"No," she admitted. "I was just overwhelmed."
His grip loosened slightly, as if preparing to let her go. But Kate did not step back. She did not flee. Instead, she exhaled shakily and looked down at the bangle in her palm. The one he had kept and polished and returned to her as if it had always belonged in his care.
Her throat tightened.
"I thought I lost it forever," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Anthony hesitated. Then, with a surprising gentleness, he reached out and turned her wrist, pressing the bangle back into place, sliding it up until it rested snugly where it had always belonged.
Kate sucked in a breath.
"But you didn't," he said quietly.
Her fingers curled into a fist, as if holding onto more than just gold. She forced herself to meet his gaze.
"You had it all this time."
"Yes."
Her heart thudded painfully. "Why?"
Anthony exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if he wasn't sure of the answer himself. "Because I couldn't stand the thought of you missing it."
Something in her chest cracked open.
She did not think, did not plan. She only felt.
And then she was moving again. Stepping forward, lifting onto her toes, her hands reaching for him just as his arms came around her once more.
This time, he wasn't caught off guard.
This time, he held her without hesitation.
She breathed him in. Warmth, gentleness and something distinctly him. He was solid beneath her hands, his grip firm at her waist, as if anchoring her to the moment. To him.
Kate squeezed her eyes shut.
How had she spent so much time denying this? How had she convinced herself she did not want this?
The thought was unbearable.
Slowly, she pulled back, but not far. Their faces were inches apart, his breath warm against her skin.
His dark eyes searched hers. "Don't leave," he murmured.
A wobbly laugh escaped her. "Okay."
Something shifted between them.
Anthony lifted a hand, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek, his touch achingly gentle. "Good."
And then, he smiled.
A shy, bashful one.
A hopeful one.
Kate's lips parted in surprise. His gaze dropped to her mouth, his fingers flexing against her waist. Her breath hitched.
She should step back. She should. But instead, she whispered, "Thank you."
And though she had meant it for the bangle, for everything, she knew Anthony heard something more.
Because when he spoke again, his voice was hoarse.
"Anytime."
Kate did not know what came next. All she knew was that she would not be running or hiding from it. Not anymore.