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The golden afternoon light streamed through the grand windows of the Viscountess’s study. Kate sighed as her fingers brushed softly over the roughness of the ledger placed before her.
She carefully examined the numbers, calculating sums and balancing the accounts one by one. As she read through the endless rows of sums and balances she noted that Francesca needed some more money in her accounts for her piano lessons in Bath, Gregory's Latin tutor needed to be paid, and Hyacinth's governess. She also made a note that Colin had taken a rather large sum out of the Bridgerton family accounts. Which was understandable as he was away on his grand tour, traveling all about Europe and some parts of Asia. Kate knew; however, that Anthony would likely scold the third eldest Bridgerton for being so ‘careless’ (by his terms) with money.
So Kate did what she did best–keeping Anthony in line–and got to the accounts before her dear husband had a chance to review them. Which, this time around, wasn’t hard.
Anthony had been rather quickly whisked away at dawn on matters of business. The Howard Fields, a plot of Bridgerton land right outside their village, had a fire incident. By law, as the owner of the lands, Anthony had to take his leave and head straight to Howard Fields before Kate awoke.
Leaving Kate rather wistful.
Kate’s train of thought was interrupted by Clara, who came into the study, dropping into a bow.
“Lady Bridgerton, your afternoon tea,”
The maid gently sat the silver tray onto Kate’s desk, taking the pot of freshly brewed chai and pouring it into a teacup, setting it in front of Kate. She then placed the plate of ginger biscuits down.
Kate smiled up at her, “Thank you Clara,”
Clara tilted her head in a nod.
“My pleasure, my lady. Shall I get your riding habit ready?”
The Viscountess shook her head giving her lady’s maid a warm smile, “That won’t be necessary. I will not be riding this afternoon,”
Clara looked at Kate skeptically, “Apologies if this is impolite, but is everything alright Viscountess?”
“Oh Clara, everything is fine, do not fret. I simply wish for some time inside today. These ledgers will not finish themselves,” Kate stated playfully.
“Of course, my apologies,” Clara bowed and took her leave, her eyes lingering on the lady of the house as she exited the room. Lady Bridgerton never denied a chance to ride, Clara would know as her role was to follow her basically everywhere, every ride she took, every step she took, for the most part of her entire day, Clara was following right behind Lady Bridgerton.
Except, of course, for when Lord Bridgerton was around. Clara didn’t need to follow her then, the Viscount would take care of her, not that the Viscountess needed to be taken care of, she was quite the capable woman. Clara admired her for that. However, Lord Bridgerton wasn’t around, and wouldn’t be for the next couple of days, which made Lady Bridgerton Clara’s responsibility to look after.
Whatever led Lady Bridgerton to decline a ride wasn’t what she told Clara, there was something else that drew her to that decision.
As she made her way down to the kitchen, Clara’s mind wandered to what could’ve possibly made the Viscountess so reluctant to her daily rides.
The weather was exceptional today, a typical autumn day in the English Countryside, not too warm, yet not too cold either. So surely it wasn’t that. Not that weather really affected Lady Bridgertons decision to ride as Clara would often find herself having to take the Viscountess’s muddy riding habit to the laundry maids for washing.
She wasn’t ill, Clara would know if she was.
Oh god. If the Viscount found out that the Viscountess fell ill under her care, she was sure she’d be forced to resign, or worse, be killed. She shuddered at the thought as she reached the stairs.
Clara’s mind remained clouded as she delved deeper into suspicion, how, what, and why.
When she finally made it to the kitchen, several minutes had passed. Clara’s apprehension was plastered on her face as she placed the tea tray down on one of the counters.
“Well whatevers the matter with you lassie?” Chef Archie interrogated.
Clara shook her head, “It’s Lady Bridgerton, I worry she’s unwell,”
“Aye, I see. But why’d she not be, then?”
“Has Lady Kate fallen ill, then?” Elaine asked, balancing a basket of laundry at her hip.
Mrs. Wilson shot her a sharp look. “The Viscountess , Elaine. We mustn’t address Lady Bridgerton by her given name.”
Elaine blushed, quickly dipping her head. “Of course, Mrs. Wilson. Only… it’s just that she didn’t take her ride, and she never misses a day. Thought it strange, is all.”
Clara, standing nearby with a faint frown, added quietly, “I thought the same, Mrs. Wilson. She always says her rides clear her mind. I can’t imagine what would make her stay indoors today.”
Mrs. Wilson shot them both a firm look. “The lady of the house does as she pleases, and she owes no one an explanation—certainly not her own maids.” Her gaze softened just a touch as she turned to Clara. “If Lady Bridgerton decides to forgo her ride, it’s for her own reasons, Clara, and it’s not our place to wonder on them.”
Clara nodded, though her concern lingered. “Of course, Mrs. Wilson. I only wish for her well-being.”
Mrs. Wilson’s expression softened further as she glanced down the hall. “As do we all, Clara. Now, back to your duties, both of you.”
As they made their way through the halls of Aubrey Hall, Elaine and Clara's footsteps fell into a rhythm, and soon enough, Elaine leaned in conspiratorially, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
“You think she’s hiding something, don’t you?” Elaine murmured, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Clara gave her a look, her brows arching playfully. “Perhaps, though it’s hardly our business, as Mrs. Wilson would remind us,” she replied, trying to sound prim but failing to suppress her own smile. “Still, it is strange, her staying in on such a fine day.”
Elaine chuckled softly. “Aye, especially as she’s never one to sit still. I thought she’d fly right out the window if she could, the way she’s always so keen on her rides.”
Clara stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “Imagine the Viscount’s face if he caught her doing such a thing,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I swear, he’d be up there in a heartbeat, chasing after her.”
“Aye, if he didn’t faint first!” Elaine teased, and the two of them dissolved into a quiet fit of giggles, mindful of the grand silence of the halls around them. “But truly, Clara,” Elaine continued once they’d composed themselves, “perhaps she’s feeling unwell. She hasn’t been quite herself, has she?”
Clara’s smile faded, her expression turning thoughtful as they approached the upper floor where her station was. “No, I suppose she hasn’t. And she’s been looking… I don’t know, softer, somehow,” she said, her gaze distant. “As if there’s something weighing on her mind… or her heart.”
Elaine shot her a knowing look. “Or something weighing on her stomach,” she said with a wink.
Clara flushed, glancing around as if worried someone might overhear. “Elaine! You can’t just say such things,” she whispered, though her tone was more amused than scandalized.
“Why not? Perhaps that’s why she stayed in. A lady in her condition might think twice about taking to the saddle,” Elaine said, her voice low and speculative. “What do you think, Clara? Do you suppose—?”
But before Elaine could finish, they reached the Viscount and Viscountess’s Chambers. Clara got to fixing the sheet as Elaine dusted.
“What’s this, then?” Elaine murmured, lifting the lid and revealing a neatly arranged assortment of herbs, powders, and a small vial. She raised an eyebrow, inspecting a small handwritten note placed atop the contents.
Clara looked over her shoulder, her brow furrowing. “Don’t go snooping, Elaine. Mrs. Wilson’ll have our heads if we’re caught meddling in the Viscountess’s things.”
Elaine smirked, nudging the box toward Clara. “Oh, come on. It’s just a peek. Besides, look at this.” She held up the note, squinting at the writing. “‘For morning ailments and nausea. To be taken sparingly.’”
Clara’s eyes widened, a spark of understanding dawning on her face. “Morning ailments… Elaine, do you think…?”
Elaine grinned, barely able to contain her excitement. “I’d bet my best bonnet on it! Lady Bridgerton’s been feeling poorly, hasn’t she? And missing her rides. I’m telling you, there’s something here.”
They quickly replaced the box just as it was and stepped back, their faces flushed with the thrill of discovery.
“Imagine a little Bridgerton running about Aubrey Hall,” Clara whispered, her tone filled with awe.
Elaine’s grin only widened. “It was bound to happen sooner or later, the way those two are always looking at each other. And have you noticed her bust lately? Filling out just a touch more, I’d say.”
Clara stifled a giggle, her cheeks pink. “Elaine! You can’t just say such things about the Viscountess.”
“Oh, hush,” Elaine replied, undeterred. “Everyone sees it. It’s only a matter of time before they make an announcement, I’m sure of it.”
“Fine, but let us finish cleaning without snooping.” Clara whisper-yelled, “I would very much like to keep my position.”
Elaine smiled and rolled her eyes as they continued to tidy up. Once they were finished at the chambers they moved onto the connecting study.
Clara busied herself with folding Lady Bridgerton’s discarded silk shawl as Elaine dusted the bookshelves. As Elaine turned and faced the desk she noticed something.
“Look here, Clara,” she whispered, nodding toward the desk that was filled with various pieces of paper and Lady Bridgerton’s chai that Clara delivered earlier.
Clara squinted and spotted a letter laid open on the Viscountess’s desk, the elegant handwriting immediately recognizable as Lord Bridgerton’s. She shot Elaine a warning look. “No, absolutely not. We’re not reading the Viscount’s private letter.”
Elaine, undeterred, raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh, come now, Clara. It might tell us something important. Think of it as… confirming our suspicions,” she said with a mischievous glint.
Clara hesitated, glancing nervously towards the open door into the hallway. “If Mrs. Wilson or—heaven forbid—the Viscountess finds out…”
“No one will know. Just a quick peek!” Elaine urged, practically bouncing on her toes. After a moment’s pause, Clara sighed, allowing herself to be swayed by her friend’s enthusiasm. Elaine picked up the letter and lowly began reading it aloud.
My dearest, most captivating Kate,
It’s been mere days since I last held you, yet I am completely undone by your absence. Each night without you feels like an eternity, and I find myself driven to distraction at the very thought of your smile, your laughter… your touch.
If only you could see what you do to me, even in memory. It is nothing short of torture, thinking of you in our bed, looking as you did that morning before I left, with your hair mussed and your lips—oh, Kate, you cannot know what you do to me. I scarcely managed to leave, as you well know, and if I could, I’d return this instant to remind you just how deeply I am yours.
And the way you looked at me, in that particular gown of yours, as though you knew precisely the effect you were having… you are utterly maddening, and I mean to show you just how thoroughly, the moment I return.
If you were not already carrying my child, rest assured I would waste no time ensuring that particular matter was addressed immediately.
(Elaine nearly choked at this part, her eyes wide as she continued.)
Knowing that you bear my child, that you are quite literally growing with the very essence of our love, has completely undone me, Kate. I want nothing more than to spend every hour with you, to see you become even more radiant, to make you laugh, to kiss you until you forget the world entirely. Every part of me longs to be with you, to celebrate what we’ve created—what you are giving me. Soon, my love, I will be there to cherish every moment with you.
You have given me more than I ever dared hope, and I shall return soon to remind you, in every way possible, just how profoundly, irrevocably, I am yours.
Always and entirely, Anthony
Elaine clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp, her cheeks flaming as she tried to process the words.
“Oh… oh my!” she whispered, barely containing her glee. “He’s absolutely—what’s the word? Ravished by her!”
Clara, equally flustered, put a hand over her heart as though it might keep it from racing out of her chest. “Elaine, we really shouldn’t be reading this… but did you hear the way he wrote to her?” She gave a breathless laugh, half scandalized, half in awe. “He’s more than just besotted. The man is… is positively wild for her!”
Elaine’s grin widened, her eyes practically gleaming. “Did you catch that line about her gown? And the… the bit about her being with child?” she whispered with a wink. “I’m surprised he hasn’t caused a scandal with how madly he adores her. He’s practically threatening to swoop in and have his way with her the moment he’s back!”
Clara covered her mouth to hide her smile, her cheeks still a vivid shade of pink. “No wonder she’s been looking so pleased with herself lately! He sounds positively feral.”
Elaine let out a little giggle, barely containing her amusement. “Feral, indeed! If he wasn’t so busy with his estate business, he’d probably be chasing her around Aubrey Hall right now. ‘If you were not already carrying my child,’” she repeated with a mock-serious whisper, her eyes wide. “Good heavens, it’s a wonder they don’t have an entire brood already.”
Clara tried to shush her, though her own laughter slipped out. “And he’s so dreadfully open about it! You’d think he’d be a bit more subtle, but no, he has to remind her he’s quite ready to… well, to continue their family anytime he pleases.”
Elaine sighed dreamily, closing the letter and placing it gently back on the desk as they’d found it. “To be loved like that… imagine it, Clara. She’s carrying his child, and he’s still so smitten he can’t help but write her like this.”
Clara, regaining her composure, nodded as they slipped out of the study. “Well, if she’s not aware of his feelings now, she certainly will be by the time he returns.”
Unable to shake the thrill of reading the Viscount’s passionate words, Elaine’s gaze fell upon another sheet on the desk. Barely visible beneath the shawl Clara had folded, lay a second letter, and she gasped.
“Look here, Clara,” she whispered, eyes sparkling. “Lady Bridgerton’s reply! It’s right there, not even sealed.”
Clara’s eyes widened in horror and excitement. “Elaine, we really shouldn’t… we’ve meddled enough already!”
“Oh, just a little peek,” Elaine pleaded, practically vibrating with curiosity. “If Lord Bridgerton’s letter was anything to go by, imagine what she might have said in return.”
Unable to resist, Clara finally nodded, and Elaine gingerly lifted the page, her eyes quickly scanning the words.
My dearest Anthony,
I think you rather enjoy driving me to distraction from afar, knowing full well I can do nothing about it… yet. If I did not already carry your child, your words alone would be enough to inspire the thought. And yes, my love, when you return, I fully expect you to make good on these “improper ideas” of yours—as thoroughly as possible.
You should know that every time I wear that particular gown you adore, it’s with the intention of making it as difficult as possible for you to leave. If it’s driving you to distraction, rest assured it’s entirely intentional.
Clara clapped a hand over her mouth.
I rather hope it lingers in your mind until you’re back at my side.
And, darling, since you insist on reminding me of every way you mean to cherish me, let me assure you I have no intention of being subtle when I see you again. I shall be waiting for you in that riding habit you so loathe, and this time, I’ll make a game of it. Do you think you’re capable of unbuttoning every single piece without entirely losing your composure? I’m quite curious to find out.
The thought of you returning makes me lose all sense of decorum, and with each day that passes, I feel the anticipation building. And as for the nursery, my love, I have no doubt that by the time you’re done “reminding” me of your affections, it may well need a second crib.
So hurry home, my dearest, because if you think I am maddening now, you may find I’ve grown positively unbearable in your absence.
Yours, eagerly awaiting, Kate
Elaine let out a squeal, barely able to contain herself. “Did you hear that? ‘Another crib,’ she says! And all those… details ,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “She’s as mad for him as he is for her!”
Clara’s mouth was agape, her cheeks burning crimson. “I… I never knew Lady Bridgerton could be so… so bold ,” she managed, half-shocked and half-envious. “She sounds like… well, not like the proper Viscountess we see at breakfast!”
Elaine giggled, eyes dancing with amusement. “Proper or not, she knows exactly what she’s doing, doesn’t she? And that ‘riding habit’ bit—good heavens! Imagine teasing him like that. No wonder he’s practically losing his mind.”
Clara shook her head in disbelief, a small smile breaking through. “And here I thought their marriage was all poise and decorum. But she… she has him wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?”
“Oh, like a lovestruck puppy,” Elaine agreed, practically swooning. “It’s clear they’re absolutely wild for each other. You’d think they’d been married only a week!”
Clara could only shake her head, still trying to recover from the Viscountess’s unexpectedly wanton words. “Well, I suppose we know how she’s kept him so smitten. If she’s this flirtatious in a letter… goodness, imagine what she’s like when he’s actually here!”
They carefully tucked the letter back as they found it, both of them a bit breathless from their discovery. As they tiptoed out of the study, Clara clutched her apron, still half-dazed with shock.
“I can hardly believe it,” Clara murmured, shaking her head as they stepped into the hallway. “She’s always so proper with us. I never imagined she’d be so… wanton !”
Elaine only grinned, thoroughly delighted. “Well, if you think on it, that’s probably how she keeps the Viscount so mad for her. She’s got him right where she wants him, with her teasing and that clever mouth of hers.”
Clara let out a soft laugh, marveling at this new side of Lady Bridgerton. “Well, one thing is certain: there’s going to be no shortage of love in that nursery.”
Elaine sighed, "For what I think is two little Bridgertons? There most definitely won't be."