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Chapter Text

“I see you continue with your morning rides.”

In the quiet of the early morning, Lord Bridgerton’s voice felt far too intimate for what Kate suspected he had joined her in the park to do. After the disastrous dinner with the Sheffields the evening prior, Kate was certain he had awoken early to find her and deliver a plan that could save them. The uncertainty of what would be her role in that plan, however, filled her with dread.

“As do you, it seems,” Kate said, her voice catching after hours of unuse. Her eyes scanned Lord Bridgerton’s face and her heart clenched at the weary expression she found there. She felt compelled to infuse some levity or apology, anything that might lessen the weight she felt pressing down on this overdue conversation. Kate attempted a smile, in truth, it was nothing more than a twitch of her lips. However, as Lord Bridgerton’s eyes grew stormier, Kate knew there was no levity, no apologies, no rescue to be found there.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said gently, his hand fisting around his riding crop as he took a step towards Kate and stopped. While she had not expected him to stand beside her, she found herself unnervingly disappointed that he stood so far, so distant from her.

“Nor could I,” she replied softly. Kate swallowed around the lump in her throat, having lodged itself there the evening prior the moment she saw understanding hit Lord Bridgerton’s eyes.

Kate realized something with a discomforting quickness as Lady Sheffield threw her barbs and accusations across the dinner table; in all their hostility towards one another throughout the season, no insult nor disparagement of her character had struck Kate so violently as to see Lord Bridgerton believe them. For him to see something false, callous and cruel in her actions, as Lady Sheffield suggested, and misinterpret her desperate attempt to protect her family as a nefarious misdeed.

“Have you decided what you will do?” she asked, her stomach tensing as she awaited his reply.

“Long have I wrestled with it, but I see no other option,” Lord Bridgerton said and inhaled deeply, his eyes boring into Kate’s as he spoke. “I will talk with Miss Edwina today... and see my way to ending things. It is the only way to ensure that the two of us can be rid of this impossible situation.”

“Impossible,” Kate found herself mouthing the word and felt tears sting at her eyes as she waited for the remainder of Lord Bridgerton’s speech. But as he opened his mouth to speak again, his gaze dropped down to her mouth and then back up to her eyes. Kate blinked furiously, hoping to erase the evidence of her heartbreak but it was too late.

“It is impossible is it not?” he asked, taking a step forward. “If you see an alternative path, Miss Sharma, please tell me now.”

Breath catching in her throat, Kate’s lips parted as her mind raced through their options. Ending the engagement with Edwina was the wisest choice, but Kate could not ignore the pain she felt as she imagined her sister's face streaked with tears, heartbroken that she had lost the man she loved.

“You cannot,” Kate croaked, her throat tightening around the words as if her body were trying to hold the words back. “You cannot break my sister’s heart.”

“Kate,” Lord Bridgerton said gently and Kate squeezed her eyes shut, denying how his voice caressed her name.

“I could not live with myself if I robbed her of her happiness and the future she deserves,” she continued, opening her eyes to stare at the twigs and fallen leaves on the ground. “Furthermore, I will not be the cause of you losing your honour any more than I can stand to see Edwina in pain.”

“And what of your pain?” he asked, his voice rough and grating.

Kate’s head whipped up and she frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“What of your pain?” Lord Bridgerton repeated, his chin tilting in defiance as he stepped closer to her. “If I end the engagement with your sister she will be hurt, but if I marry her, what of you?”

“I—, my feelings are immaterial, my lord,” Kate sputtered as he continued his path to her, his proximity making her mind swim. “I will endure what I must for Edwina’s sake.”

“Kate,” he whispered sadly, his eyes deep and imploring.

“Stop it,” Kate spat, her hands fisting at her sides as she felt anger spike through her veins.“You cannot do this now. I warned you, I warned you what would happen if you continued to toy with Edwina’s feelings in this way, and now you have made her love you.”

“What—,” Lord Bridgerton blanched, his eyes rounding as he listened, but finally he stopped moving.

“Yes, she confided in me last night. She loves you,” Kate hissed, tears springing anew and running down her cheeks in hot trails. “And now that you have secured her affections, you wish to abandon her and leave her to face derision from the ton due solely to your inability to uphold your word as a gentleman.”

When she concluded speaking, Lord Bridgerton tore his gaze from hers and began to pace away from her. Kate watched him, anger and heartbreak thrumming through her person in equal measure.

“Then I must face censure for breaking my vow as I certainly cannot continue with the engagement now,” he said loudly enough for Kate to hear, though he had not turned to face her again. Kate blew out a frustrated breath. If only she had told Edwina sooner how useless it was to try to reason with this man, perhaps her sister would have heeded her warnings that theirs was not a favourable match. Perhaps then this situation would not be quite so… impossible.

“You cannot be serious,” she scoffed and Lord Bridgerton stopped pacing to glare at her. “You were quite uncaring the many times I told you my sister desired a love match. But now that it has indeed occurred, you break your vow to her as if it were nothing.”

“I am doing this for her benefit,” he retorted with narrowed eyes.

Kate could not hold back the sardonic laugh that burst from her chest. “Her benefit? Is this how you have convinced yourself that your intentions are anything other than selfish? You are breaking the engagement because you cannot handle the consequences of your own actions.”

“I have said from the start of the season that I do not wish for a love match,” Lord Bridgerton said loudly, nearly shouting, turning to face Kate as his hands swung out from his sides.

“I am well aware of your declarations this season, my lord,” Kate scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Why must you always assume I am acting maliciously?” he stomped forward, stopping just before his boots touched the edge of Kate’s riding cloak. “I assure you, I am acting in your sister's best interest by ending things before any vows are exchanged.”

“Then please, explain to me how abandoning her weeks before her wedding is a benefit to her?” Kate spat, her fists clenching at her sides.

“A modicum of pain now is far preferential to the heartbreak she would endure later when I leave her as a young widow,” he said through clenched teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

Kate’s head jerked back in surprise and her lips parted as his words rang through her mind. “What—, why would you think she would be a young widow?” she asked, confusion slowly erasing the anger that gripped her.

When he did not answer, his jaw clenching so tightly Kate feared he may crack a tooth, she reached her hand out and lightly touched her fingers to his. “Will you tell me?” she whispered though he did not seem to hear her, his eyes holding a faraway look that unnerved her. “Anthony,” she called gently.

Blinking rapidly, Anthony’s expression shifted as his gaze grew familiar again, roaming her face with a hunger she could not understand.

“I do not—,” he said, his voice rough and grating, before pausing to clear his throat. “I do not wish for my wife to be the casualty of a love match when I die.”

Kate frowned, confused by this feeling Anthony presented as an explanation, but before she could question him further, he shrugged as if he were explaining simple arithmetic.

“If what your sister has shared with you is true,” he continued. “I must end the engagement.”

Dropping her head as all the air seemed to leave her lungs, Kate had no less questions about his motivations, but understood there were no words she could employ that would change his mind or make him see reason. She had lost, her sister would be heartbroken and it was all her fault.

“As you wish, my lord,” she lamented, lifting her head back up to give Anthony a tired smile. Angling her body away from him, Kate stepped back and moved to pull her hand away but Anthony gripped her palm before she could.

“Surely if you have used my given name once already, we should not need to revert to honorifics,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips, a smirk Kate was quite powerless against.

Turning to face him once more, Kate’s gaze dropped to his mouth. She knew she should not linger; she had her answer already, and ought to leave before she made their impossible situation even worse. Instead, she found herself lifting a hand to stroke her finger along the crease in his cheek. What was one moment longer, Kate thought. After all, she should be allowed a minute to commit his face to memory before she was removed from his life for good.

“If only the duchess had tarried a moment longer,” she whispered, watching the way the dimple in his cheek disappeared at her words. Looking up into his eyes, she saw something fierce brewing there, though she denied herself the luxury of trying to decipher its meaning.

“Pardon?” Anthony breathed, his brow creasing in confusion. Kate wondered if she could trace the line there too, but stopped herself. She had taken enough liberties as it stood.

“I am simply… ruminating,” she sighed, dropping her hand back to her side, distinctly ignoring the way his fingers tensed against her hand. “Over what could have occurred if your sister indeed had discovered us in a more compromising position at the ball.”

She could see his lips parting, his mouth agape at her impropriety she supposed, but Kate found herself lost among her daydreams.

“For days afterwards I imagined different scenarios where someone else entered your study and we had been compelled to marry,” she sighed, a strange lightness filling her chest as she spoke her most secret desires aloud, for once allowing herself the freedom to speak without fear of consequences.

What else could go wrong, she thought. She had already ruined the happiness of her most beloved sister, and broken her own heart in the process. Why shouldn’t she admit her desires aloud, at least once.

“You did?” Anthony croaked, his expression unreadable. Or rather, Kate could likely interpret how he felt hearing her secrets, but she did not feel so inclined as to rightfully view his rejection.

Kate allowed herself a smile as she recalled her fantasies, one where she saved her family from scandal but was also able to follow her heart's desire and love Anthony openly.

In the years since her appa’s death, Kate had all but banned herself from daydreaming, putting aside her childhood pastime to focus on the survival of her family. However, upon meeting Anthony, and without her permission, fantasies of a life filled with happiness, children and deep love had become a regular occurrence. As they had grown closer at Aubrey Hall, the dreams had shifted to focus singularly on a full life on that wondrous estate, her days filled with affection and laughter. She had thought it a harmless secret, something just for her that would not affect her duties to her family.

However, after attending Edwina’s first wedding dress fitting, she could no longer ignore the danger those dreams possessed. Seeing Edwina at the modiste, her happiness and exuberant anticipation at the life that awaited her with the viscount burst from her in beams of light that splintered and stuck Kate deeply. After that day, Kate did not allow herself to dream again.

“I suppose marriage between us was the outcome I desired but could not admit,” she said flatly, the reality of the situation she found herself weighing heavily on her shoulders as she recalled Anthony’s barbarous words in Lady Danbury’s drawing room. “I must leave.”

Pulling her hand out of his, Kate turned from Anthony without another look and walked back to her horse. She wondered how she would console Edwina after she learned the wedding would be called off. The task felt insurmountable, but Kate could not allow herself to despair, her sister needed her and any heartbreak she felt would simply have to wait.

“Wait,” Anthony called from behind her as she reached her horse. Looking over her shoulder, Kate saw Anthony stalking over to her quickly.

Cursing under her breath, she began to untie her horse from the tree she had positioned him at. She needed to leave quickly before he could retract his intention to break the engagement. Despite spending the prior evening wrestling with ideas for how to ensure Anthony kept his word, now faced with the prospect of being freed from the torture of watching the wedding proceed, Kate desperately wished it would remain broken.

“Kate, please, wait,” he said, reaching a hand to still her movements from where she was attempting, and failing, to untie a knot with shaking hands. “I did not know—, I thought—,” he stammered.

Stealing herself, Kate turned, her back pressed up against her steed as she took in the frantic expression on Anthony’s face.

“My lord, I must leave,” Kate implored, her eyes scanning across the park around them. “Before we are discovered.”

Anthony’s eyes snapped up to hers and a determined look settled on his face. “Then let us run,” he said, leaning forward and taking her hands in his.

“What,” she breathed, her heart pounding against her ribs painfully.

“We could simply leave here, together,” he said, squeezing her hands as he stepped closer. “It is maddening, how much you consume my very being. I have been determined to fulfill my duty to my family, always to the exclusion of my own desires, but since I have met you…” he blew out a breath and lifted one of his hands from hers to wrap his hand around her jaw and cheek. “All I find myself thinking about, all I find myself being able to breathe for... is you.”

Unable to form a coherent response, Kate felt her mouth drop open.

“For months I have struggled against it, contending with these thoughts of you to no avail,” Anthony said, his brow creasing as his gaze trailed across her face. “Run away with me,” he whispered.

“You—,” Kate breathed, her mind blanking as the implication of his proposition sank in. “What—, how could we—,” she said before he interrupted.

“We could leave now,” Anthony added quickly. “We could return our horses to the stables and I could come to you with a carriage and be on the road to Scotland before our families wake.”

Her heart leapt in her chest, the lump in her throat returning. She desperately wanted to say yes, to ignore the consequences and steal away to Scotland with this man, but as tears sprung in her eyes, Kate knew she could not.

“Anthony, do not say such things,” she whispered, trying to pull her face out of his grasp.

“Why not, Kate?” he asked, allowing his hand to drop to grip hers again.

“Because it is cruel,” she snapped, though she did not pull her hands away. Anthony’s mouth opened to speak but she continued. “We have a duty to our families and pretending that we could run away to appease this passion between us is a cruel jest.”

“No, Kate,” Anthony shook his head, pulling her hands up against his chest and she felt his heartbeat against the back of her hands. “This is not mere passion. It is—,” he stopped, his jaw snapping shut as he swallowed.

Shaking her head, Kate looked up to the warming morning sky as she felt a tear fall back into her hair. “You cannot even say it,” she said quietly, anger mixing with her despair in a nauseating swirl in her belly as she tilted her head down to look at him. “You would condemn our families to great scandal for something you cannot admit aloud.”

“I—, it is not—,” he sputtered, his gaze and expression taking on a desperate quality before huffing out a frustrated breath. “Can I not explain myself once we are already on the road to Gretna Green?”

Scoffing, Kate levelled him with a glare. “You cannot be serious,” she chided.

With an inelegant groan, Anthony pushed away from her, pulling off his tophat roughly to rake his hand through his hair. “We do not have time for this,” he grumbled as he paced, kicking at the dirt every few steps.

“Well, perhaps you should make time,” she called. He threw a glare at her though he did not cease his pacing. Sighing, Kate leaned back against her horse. “If you had only been honest with me sooner, we would not be battling your cowardice against the clock.”

“My coward—,” he stopped to frown at her before rolling his eyes petulantly. “It is not fear that holds my tongue, Kate.”

“Well then please, do illuminate me, we have endless time to discuss it,” she said, throwing her hands up at her sides.

“You may think it ridiculous,” he mumbled, kicking at some poor weed he’d discovered in his path.

“Most of what you do and say is ridiculous, but proceed,” she retorted.

“I am trying very hard to remember why I want to marry you so desperately,” he said up to the trees, fisting his hands on his hips. Kate tried to ignore the thrill that shot through her chest at his words but could not keep her lips from twisting into a small smile.

“I became the viscount quite young,” Anthony said quickly, turning to face her, his hands pulled behind his back. “I told you my father’s passing came as quite a shock to us all.”

“I recall,” Kate said gently. Anthony gave her a sharp nod before he continued.

“My mother was,” he paused, swallowing hard as he seemed to slow down and compose himself. “My mother was heartbroken at his passing, they were quite in love, even after so many years and so many children.”

Kate offered him a small smile and held out her hand, beckoning him to her. Without hesitation, he walked directly to her, twinning his fingers with hers before standing at her side.

“Our family suffered his passing in every sense,” he continued. “I did not wish to subject my wife to the same pain if I should die young as my father did.”

Leaning her head back against her steed’s flank, Kate turned to look at Anthony’s profile. To watch him when he was not returning her gaze always felt like a secret pleasure to Kate, however, seeing the tension in his expression made her heart stutter pitifully in her chest.

“I understand,” she said to his profile. “At least, as much as I can, considering there is likely much more to the story.”

With slow movements, Anthony turned to catch her gaze, his expression unreadable.

“So you were against a love match for your wife’s sake. You turned from whatever was growing between us,” Kate trailed off as the look in his eye turned sorrowful, “to save me the pain of your passing?”

With another sharp nod, Anthony turned back to face the park and Kate mirrored his action, blowing out a breath through her nose. They stood, hand in hand, in silence as they looked across the clearing. The sun had crested the horizon, dissipating what little midnight fog had lingered in the air.

“And you thought to do that with my sister?” Kate asked, breaking the comfortable silence, a smile pulling at her lips.

“I haven’t exactly been thinking straight in regards to you this season,” he muttered and Kate huffed out a short laugh.

“Well, my dear, you were right,” she said, turning when she felt Anthony’s gaze burning her cheek. “It is ridiculous.”

For one brief, blissful moment, Anthony graced her with a brilliant smile before his face grew serious.

“I owe you a great deal more of an explanation for this season but, does that assuage your curiosity enough to make a decision?” he asked.

“Anthony,” Kate groaned, rubbing at her temples.

“Why not, Kate?” he implored. “Why should we not finally do something for ourselves? Run away with me,” he whispered, drawing his face close to hers.

Wicked man, she could never think clearly when he was that close, though she suspected that had been his intention. She felt more questions floating around her mind, important queries that would seek to understand how his stance on love and his mortality could change so swiftly, but just as soon as the questions entered her mind, the warm presence of Anthony before her ushered them away.

“What would we tell our families?” she asked, feeling her resolve to continue refusing him slipping. “What could we say that would not cause them to despise us for our selfishness?”

“I am unsure,” Anthony admitted, pulling back to inhale deeply. “Perhaps they will surprise us.” At Kate’s raised brows he chuckled. “I suppose love has made me an optimist.”

Unable to hold back the gasp that escaped her, Kate felt her heart clench. Was the love this gentleman was offering worth more than the love she held for her mother and sister? In gaining a husband, would she lose the only family she had remaining?

Anthony lifted a hand to his breast and nodded. “I do love you, Kate,” he breathed. “I want you at my side, for the rest of my life, come what may.”

With a shuddered breath, Kate chose. Though her head felt light and her heart thudded roughly in her chest, she felt a strange sense of calm as she returned Anthony’s imploring gaze. She lifted her hand to grip Anthony’s against his chest and whispered, “I love you too.”

Mouth dropping open with a laboured breath, Anthony mouthed something before fisting his hand around her fingers. “Will you run away with me?” he asked, the question barely making a sound in the stillness of the woods around them.

“Yes,” Kate whispered, feeling her heart racing in time to match the pace of his beating against her fingers. “Let us run away together.”

Chapter Text

Raising her fist, Edwina paused before knocking on Kate’s bedchamber door. Perhaps it was childish of her, but after the secrets of Kate’s nefarious dealings with the Sheffields were revealed the evening prior, Edwina was not feeling particularly generous to her sister, at least not enough to be polite. Instead, with a smirk on her face, she gripped the door handle and pushed the door open widely. Her dramatic entrance was ruined, however, by a decided lack of Kate in her bedchambers.

Edwina let out a frustrated sigh while she took slow steps into the room and looked around. It was far too late in the day for Kate to be sneaking around the stables, perhaps she feared Edwina’s anger and had snuck downstairs to break her fast. The thought made Edwina’s stomach churn with nerves. She had never been too good at fighting with Kate, and it was rather hard to stay mad at someone who accepted fault for every issue Edwina had, even faults that did not belong to her.

Perhaps she had been too quick to anger over the whole clandestine dowry business. Edwina was a diamond, she thought, this behaviour and emotionality did not suit her. She would find her sister and speak to her of her plans for salvaging Edwina’s engagement. In the empty room, Edwina nodded to herself and held her chin up high; that was the mature way to handle such issues, she thought, Kate would be proud of her.

She had just turned to leave the room when she noticed a piece of paper on Kate’s pillow. With a furrowed brow, she walked towards the bed to find it was a letter, addressed to her. Edwina frowned and thought surely she had not been so odious with her sister after the dinner that Kate should need to pen her apology in a letter before they faced one another. Nevertheless, Edwina sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the letter.

It was decidedly thicker than she had realized, which filled Edwina with a foreboding sense of dread. Flipping the letter over, she carefully removed the seal, unfolded the multiple pages of paper and began to read.

“Dear bon,

By the time you have found this letter, I will be gone.”

Her hand shot up to her mouth as Edwina gasped. Gone? she thought, what could she mean? Edwina was ready to jump up and fetch her mama when her eyes snagged on a name lower on the page which halted her in her tracks.

“I am safe, in good health and am in no danger so I beg you not to raise the alarm with Mama or Lady Danbury. I have run away with Lord Bridgerton.”

Edwina felt lightheaded, her heart racing at an alarming pace in her chest as she read the words over and over, though they did not make any more sense with each pass. Kate had run away with Lord Bridgerton. Her intended. Her sister had run away with the man she was about to marry. She could not understand it, she felt as if she were in a bad dream.

“I understand that this will come as a shock, I find I too am quite shocked by the turn of events but I can only imagine the confusion you feel in this moment. I do not know if I will ever be granted the opportunity to apologize to you in person for what I have done; you may wish to never see me again after this, and I would understand your position. Still, I will explain some of the circumstances that lead to this choice as best I can here.

After the dinner with the Sheffields, I spoke to Lord Bridgerton in the drawing room and he indicated his intentions to break the engagement. I made every effort to change his mind, to ensure he knew you were not at fault for the deal I made with the Sheffields regarding your dowry, but he was resolved in his decision. When I spoke to you later that evening and you told me how deeply you wished to become the Viscountess Bridgerton, I was resolved to convince Anthony to go through with the wedding at any cost.

I met him in a park at dawn this morning but unfortunately, we did not come to the resolution I had been hoping for. Instead, Anthony and I were forced to face a truth we both had been running from the moment we met—we are in love.

The day we arrived in England, I met Anthony in that same park on horseback. I did not know who he was, but a connection was made, one that proved hard to shake even after I overheard his views on marriage and he set his marital sights on you. During your courtship, I was steadfastly set against the match, not out of jealousy but because I knew he could not give you the love you deserve, the love you dreamed about. Speaking to him this morning only confirmed my beliefs, and when he learned of your feelings he was more determined than ever to end the betrothal.

We have both been running from our feelings, trying in vain to ignore them, but they have caught up to us. Elopement seemed the only option at our disposal despite the pain it would cause our families and most importantly, you. There are a great deal more details to the story, details you deserve, but they are too lengthy to explain here. I only hope that one day, when you are ready, you will grant me the chance to share those details with you. Regardless, the truth remains that I love him and we are to be married as soon as we arrive in Scotland.

I will not ask your forgiveness, as I am unsure how anyone could forgive this transgression (indeed if someone had run away with the man I love, I am unsure I would be virtuous enough to forgive them). Still, I do hope instead that you may feel the weight of my apology and my deep regret that I have caused you pain and broken your trust. I sincerely wish that my transgression has not marred your ability to trust those you love in the future.

I wonder if I had not thrown myself so fully into protecting you and Mama, upholding my vow to Appa that I would ensure you were taken care of before myself, then I would be better versed in making choices that served only me. Perhaps then I would not be making my first selfish decision in ten years and in the process betraying my most beloved sister. The idea that my happiness should come at the cost of yours causes me more pain than I can express. If only I’d been more courageous, then I could have had the love of my husband as well as the love of my sister. Unfortunately, I have backed myself into a corner where only one is available to me in either scenario.

For now, however, I have left you in an impossible situation. The scandal our families face from this elopement could be great indeed, but I believe in your ability to weather the storm. You are the most capable, intelligent, clever lady of my acquaintance, and I know I have trained you well. Last night you told me you were a grown woman, ready to be a wife and run your own household—here is your first task: your family is embroiled in scandal, find a way through it.

Though you may never have faith in me again, and for that I cannot blame you, I will never stop having faith in you. Though my actions may imply otherwise, I love you, Edwina. I have never wanted to hurt you, yet I have and for that, I am truly sorry.

Your sister,

Kathani”

With shaking hands, Edwina crumpled the letter, anger coursing through her body with an intensity she did not know she possessed. She wished a fire was lit in Kate’s bedchambers so she could toss the offending parchment into the flames and never have to see the evidence of Kate’s betrayal again. Instead, once the letter was crumpled into a ball, Edwina threw it on the ground with a huff and began pacing.

She could not believe it. She thought the dowry arrangement was the extent of Kate’s devious behaviour, and yet she had only glimpsed a fraction of her capacity for betrayal. Tears sprung to her eyes as she paced along the floor, her chest burning with indignation and a desire to scream until she was hoarse.

“How could she do this to me?” Edwina hissed, her words barely audible as she turned, feeling like a caged tiger.

This was supposed to be her season, an opportunity to find great love, just as her mama had, and live the life she and Kate had dreamed of. Yet her dreams were crumbling down around her, threatening to crush her in the process, and it was all her sister’s doing. How could their family avoid this scandal? Edwina thought. They had no money, no family name respectable enough to help shelter them from the brunt of this storm, and any connections they could have made through Edwina’s marriage were now squandered.

For a fleeting second, she wished Kate were there. She was always helpful in times of crisis, and Edwina had no experience handling anything of this magnitude, much less alone. Come to think of it, she could not recall a time when she had to manage any negative consequences alone. Kate was always there, standing in front of her, protecting her from the worst of whatever came her way. A tear fell from her eye, trailing down her cheek in a steak that only made Edwina feel all the more pitiful.

Yes, Edwina was alone in this scandal and Kate had made well sure of that fact. Edwina could not be certain which was worse, Kate’s abandonment or the betrayal of her trust. She had thought Kate her best friend, though that would imply a modicum of trust between them. Something Kate was apparently incapable of. Or perhaps, she thought, she never truly knew her sister. The person she had grown up beside, or rather the person who had raised her, was surely incapable of such deception and cruelty.

Kate felt very much a stranger to Edwina and that thought set a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks. Suddenly, feeling as if standing took all her energy, Edwina allowed herself to fall to the floor, burying her face in her hands as she wept. Her thoughts swirled, and all of her pain, anger, sadness and fear barraged her mind in equal measure.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, her tears ran out and she lifted her head. Wiping at her face with the backs of her hands, she felt something sharp scrape against her cheek. Pulling back to stare at her hand, she stared at her engagement ring with wide eyes. For a strange and fleeting moment, she considered ripping the ring off and throwing it on the ground with Kate’s letter. Then she remembered that the piece belonged to Lady Bridgerton and thought she should not return the piece damaged.

Immediately, another thought occurred to her, something Kate had said in her letter. Edwina’s eyes slid over to the crumpled ball of paper sitting a few feet away from her, hurt burning in her chest. Sitting up straight, she became suddenly aware of a lack of heartbreak from one person in particular, Lord Bridgerton.

Sniffling, Edwina frowned as she reached for the letter, searching through the creases in the paper for the correct line. “...indeed if someone had run away with the man I love, I am unsure I would be virtuous enough to forgive them…” Laying the pages down in her lap, Edwina cast her gaze out the window as she searched her heart for some measure of pain at the thought of Lord Bridgerton’s part in this betrayal. Indeed it stretched far beyond poor manners to elope when you had not yet broken off an engagement, with your intended’s sister no less, but she could find no great emotion tied to him.

“But,” she spoke aloud, shaking her head. Surely she was heartbroken, she was a jilted bride! She would be mocked endlessly by the ton, and she had been looked over in favour of her sister. Try as she might, though, Edwina could not find evidence of any great emotion when she thought of losing what would have been her future husband. In fact, at most, she felt… inconvenienced.

Bringing a hand to her mouth, Edwina realized perhaps she had been too hasty in labelling her “feelings” towards Lord Bridgerton as love. She felt some affection towards him, but she thought, if he had asked, she would not have been willing to endure the scandal of eloping with him herself.

In truth, she had not meant to lie to Kate, when she had spoken to her the night prior, nor did it excuse her sister's actions, but she had simply intended to impress upon her sister how great her desire was to continue with the wedding. She had been wracked with fear at the thought of losing her position in society should Lord Bridgerton call off the engagement, and along with it, the loss of the life she had been dreaming of. Kate had been responsible for causing the rift in her engagement, it only made sense that Edwina sent her off to fix it personally.

This thought made Edwina pause, her brow furrowing as she thought. She had told Kate she was ready to be a wife, but in her first act as a woman, she sent Kate to fight a battle for her. Surely, she would have to handle issues with Lord Bridgerton on her own, had they married. She imagined trying to resolve any difficulty with Lord Bridgerton, picturing the way he bickered with his family and even with Kate on occasion, and admittedly Edwina felt out of her depth.

Scrubbing her hands down her face, Edwina took a deep breath, trying to ease the headache she could feel was brewing. The scandal ahead of her and the feelings she needed to sort through from Kate’s betrayal felt insurmountable, but it would seem, for once, it was on her shoulders to navigate it.

Picking up the letter, Edwina dragged herself up to her feet with great effort. Her legs had gone numb from her position on the floor and she shook them out as she inhaled deeply. She carried the letter to a small table positioned beneath a window and smoothed her hands over it in an effort to iron out the crinkles in the pages. When she was satisfied the words were legible again, she straightened her posture and left the room.

Edwina entered the drawing room and found Lady Danbury and Mama on a settee. She eyed a few maids and waited until they had left the room before she spoke.

“Lady Danbury, would you be so kind as to send a footman to Bridgerton house today and request a visit with Lady Bridgerton?” Edwina was quite proud of how steady her voice sounded. Perhaps Kate had been right and she was well trained for this, though the thought made her want to collapse into tears again.

“Edwina, dearest,” Mama said softly. “Perhaps we should let Kate handle matters–”

“Unfortunately,” Edwina interrupted and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lady Danbury’s brows raise high on her forehead, likely at her uncharacteristic display of poor manners, but she continued. “Kate is unavailable to assist this morning.”

Mama’s brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to ask further questions, but Edwina turned to the dowager countess.

“Lady Danbury, it is quite urgent that we speak with Lady Bridgerton. Can you please arrange a meeting?”

“Why, child?” Lady Danbury asked, her eyes narrowing.

Pulling the letter from behind her back, Edwina held it up and announced, “Because Kate and Lord Bridgerton have eloped. If we are to get ahead of this news before the scandal grows beyond our families’ ability to recover, we must speak to Lady Bridgerton and devise a plan of action at once.”

For several long moments, no one made a sound or moved an inch and Edwina couldn’t help but feel proud at her dramatic delivery. Then Lady Danbury gripped her cane and stood from the settee to begin towards the drawing room door.

“Forget the footman, Miss Edwina, we will leave for Bridgerton house now,” she said, her voice brokering no arguments. Edwina nodded once and followed after her.

Chapter Text

Tapping his thumb impatiently against his leg, Anthony leaned forward to peer out the carriage window for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes. With a huffed breath of frustration, he leaned back against his seat and wondered what could possibly be taking Kate so long.

He had just begun to reach for his pocket watch to check the time when the carriage door swung open. The impatience that had been coursing through his body like a swarm of flies calmed instantly the moment Kate stepped into the carriage, her cloak’s hood covering the majority of her face. With just a tiny glimpse of her strong jaw and soft lips, Anthony felt his nerves calm and a rush of relief roll through his chest.

“Kate, you came,” he breathed as she sat down next to him and pulled back her hood.

With a quirked brow, Kate shot him a withering glare that, as per usual, only endeared her to him more. “Did I give you cause to believe I would not?” she asked. Anthony’s eyes widened as he realized his misstep and he opened his mouth to recant his statement but she continued. “Has your offer been rescinded in the hour we have been apart?”

“No,” he shouted, causing Kate to jump in alarm at the volume of his voice. Feeling heat rush up his neck, Anthony cleared his throat and tried to speak with the gentility he knew he was capable of. “My apologies, I did not mean to imply—, I grew impatient waiting for you and was worried you had changed your mind.”

Kate’s eyes softened and her expression relaxed, allowing Anthony a moment to steady his breathing. He offered her a small smile before whispering, “I am glad you are here.”

“As am I,” she replied gently. Shifting in her seat, she toyed with the edges of her gloves as her expression grew sombre. “I wrote my sister a letter explaining that we are eloping. That was the cause of my delay.”

Nodding in understanding, Anthony suddenly realized, not for the first time, that Kate was far superior than he at managing the people around her. He had not thought to leave Miss Edwina a letter before they departed, much less speak to her to end their engagement. He had left a brief note for his mother, but he had forgotten that there were quite a few more loose ends he had not tidied up with his rash decision to elope with Kate.

While, to Anthony, his engagement to Miss Edwina had felt like a slow march into purgatory, he considered the illuminating conversation he’d had with Kate earlier that morning and he could no longer ignore the knowledge that the lady did not feel the same as he. A marriage to Edwina would be dooming them both to a most acutely miserable fate, a truth he had not considered before this morning. His new bride was wise indeed to offer an explanation on his behalf.

“I should have left something for her as well,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his face roughly. He could feel Kate’s gaze on him, aptly waiting for him to correct his grave error, perhaps offer her his thanks for her quick thinking, or at the very least say more on the topic, but he found he was not brave enough to meet her eye directly. Anthony’s courage, he felt, had been entirely spent that morning in the park.

He would not look at her, into those expressive eyes of hers that held a thousand stories and see the confirmation that she was as disappointed in his behaviour towards Miss Edwina as he was with himself. Instead, he cleared his throat needlessly and rapped his fist against the ceiling to signal the driver to depart.

Lost in his thoughts of how poorly he had bungled the entire season, Anthony did not notice how much time had passed until he heard Kate's stomach rumble from beside him. Kate was a person like any other, he knew this, but something about a sound so utterly human and fallible coming from Kate sent a ripple of laughter up his throat—though he wisely kept it to himself.

Blinking rapidly, Anthony whipped his head to the side to stare at her, but she did not return his gaze, instead, she crossed her arms around her stomach and stared out the carriage window.

“Is there something you need, Miss Sharma?” he asked with a smirk.

Tilting her chin up, Kate continued to stare unrepentantly out of the window as she answered, a notable chill in her tone. “No, my lord, I am perfectly well, thank you.”

His brow furrowed slightly at her use of my lord; Anthony found quiet joy in referring to Kate as Miss Sharma, but her tone did not suggest the same playful intention.

“Well, I have a meal prepared if you wish to share it with me,” he offered, his smile waning as she still refused to spare him even the most cursory of glances. Nerves erupted in his gut as he waited for her more formal rejection, though he chided himself that he was a fool to have expected anything different.

He had treated Kate abhorrently for nearly the entirety of their acquaintance, and during his courtship with her sister, she had been so fixated on illuminating his most negative qualities to Miss Edwina that she likely noted nothing else of value about him. Clenching his jaw tightly, he watched her profile as his heart sank, his mind spinning viciously with possible reasons he had earned her ire so early into their newfound relationship. He could not help but wonder why she had even agreed to his ridiculous offer.

“You mean you ordered a meal prepared for you, yes?” she asked, her gaze still fixed away from him. Her refusal to look at him, for reasons he still had yet to confirm, stung like an irritant lodged in his skin. In fact, he felt himself growing desperate to have her full attention on him, a condition he was often plagued with since their meeting, though the urgency he felt then churned in his gut.

“Actually,” he said far too loudly and noted Kate jolted slightly at the sound of his voice. Devil it, he thought, he was making quite the mess of this elopement.

Surely most couples who absconded to Scotland filled their travel time with more pleasurable pastimes, indulging themselves in each other as they rode towards scandal. Instead, Anthony had created a situation where his bride found him so irksome that his voice made her jump in her seat.

Shoving his fingers under his collar, Anthony tugged at the material surrounding his throat, suddenly aware it was choking him. Stretching his neck to the side with jerky movements, he willed himself to calm and approach Kate with more tact.

“I prepared the food myself,” he said more gently, infusing his tone with as much gentility as he could. “I could not very well rouse a servant from their bed to prepare it without simultaneously revealing what the meal was for.”

At long last, Kate turned in her seat and slid her gaze over to him and he could feel himself burn with the intensity emanating from it. The moment their eyes connected, however, Anthony felt something settle in his mind as if it made room for the terrific force that was Kate Sharma within its confines. Though his heart began to pound so heavily he thought she might be able to hear it.

“You made it?” Kate asked, her warm eyes rounding with surprise. Anthony’s responding smile at her surprise could not be helped.

It had only been a year ago that he had stared at the stove in his kitchen with Daphne, unable to deduce how the blasted thing turned on for the simple task of warming milk—let alone understand the contraption enough to cook an edible meal. His pride had demanded that he learn the basic functions of every tool in his kitchen after that evening, and after a season of sleepless nights, he had found quiet pleasure in cooking a meal for himself in the quiet pre-dawn hours of the night when the rest of the house had grown still.

Idly, he wondered if he should share that story with Kate, but thought better of it. She likely knew how to operate a stove, and even if she didn’t, she likely could solve a problem as convoluted as that with no external help. If she didn’t laugh at his helplessness, she might wonder what kind of provider he would be.

Yes, he could nurture a wealthy estate, keep his family from the poorhouse and in good societal standing, but what else did he offer? Perhaps when they returned to Aubrey Hall, he could bring her to the village and show her the bridge he had assisted with repairing when it collapsed during a storm several years prior. Physical evidence of his capability to perform in a crisis without simply ordering a servant was sure to impress Kate.

“Well, where is this mystery food you have prepared?” she asked as her eyes scanned the opposing bench of the carriage and the space beneath it. Once she had determined their food was not amongst them she shifted in her seat to face him fully, which somehow felt like a victory, though Anthony was not certain why.

He became distracted, however, when her hood shifted from its position covering the base of her head to reveal her hair—free and loose from her usual tight and complicated braids and chignons. He froze in his seat as his eyes roamed over the soft waves that cascaded down her shoulders, hidden behind the rest of her cloak.

Only once had Anthony been treated with the gift of Kate Sharma’s unrestrained hair, and like it had in his father’s study many weeks ago, he felt overcome with the need to run his fingers through it, pull a lock to his face and inhale deeply. In his most private moments, he had allowed himself to ruminate over her hair at great lengths. Even going so far as to deduce that the scent she carried, which had been achingly tormenting him for months, must emanate from her hair.

Idly, Anthony wondered if, considering that they were betrothed and en route to their wedding, he may be granted the liberty of finding out once and for all. His fingers twitched against the fabric of the seat bench with the need to reach out and discover the texture of the dark hair that had plagued his dreaming and waking hours for weeks.

“You did remember to bring it with you, did you not?” she asked, her head ducking down to catch his eye, breaking him from his musings.

“Yes, I—, of course—,” Anthony stammered, jerking in his seat to sit up straight, embarrassment that he had been sat silently staring at her for several minutes burning in his chest. He lifted his arm and rapped on the ceiling of the carriage to signal the driver.

Kate shifted to look out the window before turning to frown at Anthony. “Why are we stopping?”

Before he could offer an answer, a footman knocked on the carriage door. “My lord?” he called through the closed door. Anthony jumped from his seat and shuffled out of the carriage quickly, instructing the footman in a hushed voice where to set up the provisions he had arranged before they had departed that morning. It was quick work to set up their repast, and once Anthony was satisfied with the picturesque quality of the setup, he opened the carriage door again with a small smile.

He looked into the carriage to see Kate had moved as far from the door as possible, her arms crossed tightly across her chest and her eyes firmly fixed out the window. Anthony felt his smile drop, but still called out, “Kate?”

“Why have we stopped,” she asked to the window. “We have barely made it out of London, we should not need to stop so soon.” Anthony narrowed his eyes at the back of her head. For the second time in their short journey, she had apparently found him so irritating she could not look at him and Anthony could feel himself growing more impatient with her petulant behaviour by the minute.

“Kate,” he called again, grinding his teeth together. It would not help to argue with her, though the urge to reply with something biting simmered in his chest. “If you would—,” he tried to continue but was interrupted.

“Why is it so difficult for you to simply tell me what is happening?” she snapped, whipping her head over to look at him, her eyes blazing. “I thought in accepting your offer you would perhaps begin to at least share some of your thoughts with me, but here we are, two hours into our journey and you will not speak to me.”

Anthony felt his mouth agape but was so confounded by Kate’s outburst he could not regain enough sense to close it. He shook his head and climbed back up into the carriage, hoping to have a quiet, private conversation with her, but she would not allow it.

“I have just abandoned my family and embroiled them in scandal with only a paltry letter full of excuses for my abhorrent behaviour to serve as an apology,” Kate continued, her voice rising as she shifted in her seat to face him, her hands fisted by her sides. “And you will not speak to me of your plans, or to explain your reasons for your behaviour this season, as you promised. You have not even attempted to make idle conversation like mentioning the weather, because you will not speak to me!”

Kate’s voice hit him squarely in the chest as firmly as if she had shoved him. Anthony tried to see through her anger and the irritation it built in him, but Kate’s ability to find malicious intention behind each of his actions had grated on him long enough. Frustration clouded his mind—he tried to formulate an appropriate response and when found he could not, he turned back to the carriage door and stepped out.

“Wonderful,” Kate spat at his back. “Now you are running away.”

“You always do this,” he hissed, whipping around once he reached the ground to face her, the poorly concealed fury in her expression stoking his anger further. “Why must you attribute malevolence to everything I do?”

“Malevolence?” Kate laughed humourlessly, folding her arms across her chest again as she sat back against the carriage wall. “Such dramatic language is unnecessary, Anthony. Speak plainly.”

Throwing his arms up at his sides Anthony gaped at her. “Even my word choice is unacceptable in your eyes,” he shot back, shaking his head. “I truly wonder why you agreed to elope when it is clear you hold such disdain for me.”

“And I wonder why you would offer marriage when it is clear you will treat me as you would any other debutante,” Kate shot back, her colour rising high in her cheeks.

Anthony gaped at her, taken aback that she would resort to such lows. “Kate, you cannot be serious. I have done nothing to give you that impression.”

“Yes, you have,” she blustered, though it was plain to see she wholeheartedly believed the lunacy she was spouting, with her chin tilted high and a hard glint in her eye. “It is clear I will not be a partner to you in marriage.”

“That is not true, you cannot believe that,” he frowned, feeling his fingernails digging into his palm for how hard he was fisting his hands. He felt as if he would scream or curse at any moment, the woman had driven him to utter madness. His fear of an early grave was clearly a misuse of his time and concern, he should have been more preoccupied with staying sane in the company of Kate Sharma for extended periods of time.

“You won’t even share our reasons for stopping so early into our journey. What else am I to think?” she countered. Her expression may have shifted, but Anthony could barely register it, his frustration clouded his view of any new information.

“Because I wanted to surprise you, you ridiculous woman!” he shouted, uncaring that the driver and the footman could likely hear every word of their argument.

Frowning, Kate’s mouth shut with an audible click and she watched him through narrowed eyes. “Surprise me with what?”

Fearing that if he were to open his mouth again he may continue arguing, Anthony simply stepped to the side and with a sarcastic smile swung his arm out to indicate the setup in the grass behind him.

Sitting up in her seat, Kate leaned forward and looked around her body. Anthony could see the moment understanding hit her, as her brow unfurled and her eyes grew round and soft. Slowly she stood from her seat and moved to the door of the carriage. Her anger must have leached from her body in record time as she accepted Anthony’s hand to assist her down the carriage steps when he offered it.

“You—,” she said quietly, her eyes still focused on the blanket in the tall grass. “You prepared this for us?”

Anthony waited until her gaze fell back on him and when it did, he felt the last of his frustration dissipate. Blowing out a deep breath, he nodded and reached for her hands, the weight of them in his grounding him, unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

“I know I have not shared as much as you deserve,” he said softly, suddenly aware of the quiet around them. “At every possible opportunity, I have damaged your ability to trust in my motives or actions, but—,” he trailed off as Kate stepped closer, her intoxicating eyes pulling him from his thoughts and forcing him to speak with much more feeling than he had planned. “We have spent weeks hiding, only spending time together in stolen moments. I wanted to share a meal with you where we could take our time out in the open. Together.”

Swallowing around a sudden tightness in his throat, Anthony wondered if perhaps he had made another misstep, as Kate did not seem to move even to breathe. He opened his mouth to try to assure her that he would do better in the future, but before he could, she wrapped her arms around his ribs and hugged him tightly.

For all the inappropriate contact Anthony had shared with Kate, he realized, as his arms lifted to circle around her shoulders, that they had not shared something as intimate as an embrace. Leaning his head down, Anthony allowed himself the freedom to finally bury his nose in Kate’s hair, close his eyes and inhale.

—-------

Washing down the last of his midday meal with the wine he had packed, Anthony leaned back onto his elbow and turned his face up to Kate.

“I fear I may have been too harsh in how I closed the letter,” Kate said, brushing her hands against the blanket beneath them. “I’ve never left Edwina to her own devices, much less to navigate an issue of this scale alone. I fear she will struggle and it will only give her more cause to despise me.”

“Do you really believe she could hate you?” Anthony asked.

Shrugging, she tugged back on her gloves and began smoothing her skirts out, something Anthony noticed she did often when she seemed uncomfortable. “Perhaps. Everything has changed since we arrived in England. She has not heeded my counsel in months,” Kate looked at him with a fragile smile. “I fear this choice will cement—, it would seem she no longer needs me.”

Humming thoughtfully, Anthony chewed on the side of his cheek as he thought of how similar he felt about his family. His initial response was to ruminate on it alone, perhaps devise a plan on his own for how to handle their siblings when they returned home, but then he recalled their conversation, or rather, argument, at the carriage.

“You would think that we would relish our siblings feeling confident enough to do things without us,” he said, fixing his gaze on a ripped thread in the blanket next to him as he steadied his nerves. “After all, our goal is to help usher them to a position in life where they can manage their affairs on their own. But I still find myself meddling in my siblings' lives just so they may depend on me.”

A soft chuckle above him made his head snap up. Kate smiled and nodded, seemingly encouraging him to continue. Anthony cleared his throat and held her gaze as he shifted to sit up straight.

“When I learned that Benedict was beginning to take his art more seriously and applied to the Royal Academy, I—,” he shifted in his seat, wondering if perhaps he should take this information to his grave, however soon that may be. Still, Kate raised her brows and he found himself powerless to deny her silent request. “I made a rather large donation to the school in the hopes that they would consider his application more earnestly.”

Nodding softly, Kate said, “And I take it that he is unaware of the donation?”

“I did not wish him to misinterpret my intentions,” Anthony added quickly. “I spoke to several students and instructors at the academy and—,” he blew out a breath, deflating along with it. “I fear candidates with more established careers would have been more enticing to the admissions committee.”

“That is the burden of knowledge, is it not?” Kate replied with a huffed laugh. “Ignorance often saves those we love from a great deal of pain.”

“Well,” Anthony added, ducking his chin with embarrassment. “Sometimes I keep them purposefully ignorant so I may feel useful to them.”

“In what regard?” Kate laughed.

“I may have neglected to instruct Colin in the ways of our family accounts and his allowance so he is dependent on me to access his funds,” he said, rolling his lips together to keep from smiling as Kate’s mouth dropped open. “I fear Colin would have nothing to say to me if it were not for our conversations about his need for funds.”

“Arguments, you mean,” Kate corrected with a smile and Anthony could not help but return it.

Lapsing into a comfortable silence, Anthony knew they only had a few more minutes to spare before they would need to return to the carriage, but as Kate tipped her head up to the sun sighing as she let it bathe her in warmth, he found himself incapable of pulling himself away.

With her eyes closed and her face still tilted away, Kate asked quietly, “May I tell you a secret?”

“Of course,” Anthony whispered immediately, pushing himself closer to her.

“When I told you of my plans to return to India after Edwina was married,” she said with a sigh, the reminder of her previous plans tightening Anthony’s gut with worry, despite their current circumstances. “Your reaction confused and alarmed me because neither my mama nor my sister responded nearly so—,” she paused and turned to look at him briefly before finishing, “violently.”

Ordinarily, he might have found her description of his behaviour entertaining. Perhaps in a month's time, he might even laugh about it. But beyond her flair for adding dramatic descriptors to his actions, she seemed bothered by the disparity in response.

“They did not make attempts to convince you to stay?” he wondered, shifting to sit next to Kate directly, his hip nearly brushing hers.

“They did,” she said easily, lifting her head to stare out across the field in front of them, ignoring the way his gaze traced along her profile. “It is only that—, never mind.”

“You promised a secret,” Anthony whispered, moving his hand until it nudged hers on the blanket and before he thought better of it, he looped his thumb over the top of hers. “You have not yet told me anything that should warrant the title.”

He watched her jaw clench as she swallowed, seemingly steadying herself before she spoke again.

“I was hurt,” Kate admitted softly, “that a gentleman I had only known a few weeks was more distraught at the thought of never seeing me again than my own family. If anything, it furthered my resolve to leave—I had fulfilled my duty and now I am no longer needed.”

Anthony’s head hung forward as his mind raced, searching for some comfort to offer her. He could offer her platitudes, but he knew Kate would see through them instantly. Ultimately, he felt similarly in regard to his position in his family and there was little either of them could do to convince themselves otherwise. Perhaps they did not need the admiration and love of their families, perhaps it was enough to love their siblings and mothers through their duty and leave affection for each other.

“I cannot speak for Lady Mary and Miss Edwina but,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. “I do not think that can be true. As you’ve said, I have known you only a short while and yet I know my life would be irreparably damaged if you were to leave. It would be… immeasurable.”

Kate huffed out a short laugh. “You only think that way because you are a fool.”

“Or perhaps because I love you,” Anthony said easily before snapping his jaw shut. He had not meant to say it. It was as true then as it had been earlier that morning in the park, but to admit it aloud still felt as if he were tempting fate.

Turning to look at him with a gaze that felt far too inquisitive, Kate hummed. “You do, don’t you?” she asked, resting her chin on her shoulder as her eyes shined with some great emotion he did not feel prepared to understand.

Clearing his throat, Anthony nodded sharply, before jumping to his feet. Kate pushed back, almost falling to her back with the rush of movement, but caught herself on her elbows. No, it was not wise to speak of his affection for her again. Once in the park to entice her to elope with him was enough, any more was reckless. He could love Kate in his mind, but to act and speak in love would only lead to greater heartbreak for the both of them. It was in their best interest that he kept his most tender feelings to himself.

“We should get back on the road if we wish to arrive at the inn by nightfall,” he said brusquely, holding out a hand to Kate. She narrowed her eyes at him but slipped her hand in his nonetheless. The moment he pulled her to her feet, he turned to begin instructing the footmen to pack up their belongings and he did not look back at Kate until they shut the carriage door behind them.

Chapter Text

Dropping her hand from her mouth to rest against her stomach, Violet sat down as she felt herself becoming faint. Once seated, she stared at the walls of her sitting room unseeingly, suddenly grateful that Edmund had designated this room for her particular use when they had first moved into Bridgerton house.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled steadily. It was fortuitous that she had a private space to read Anthony’s note away from her staff and the children, as she feared she would not have been able to temper her reaction to his news even if she had been in the presence of the queen. In any other circumstance, she might even feel proud for having stayed upright as long as she had at the news of his elopement.

When she opened her eyes again, Violet looked down at Anthony’s note in her lap warily. The stress of bringing her children out in society would make her an old woman before she was fifty years old if the first two seasons were any measure of how the rest would go. How was she meant to navigate this alone, so many times over, she thought. Sitting back in her chair in a decidedly unladylike posture, she frowned at her misfortune.

She hoped Miss Edwina’s meek and gentle nature would influence at least her girls to behave with more decorum in their debuts, as Violet doubted Miss Edwina would participate as the strong hand to lead them through it. However, it would seem she had misjudged the young miss. Instead of assisting her in corralling her children who seemed determined to thrust their family into scandal at every opportunity, Miss Edwina had been the one to lure her eldest into scandal with their elopement.

She was well and truly alone again, it would seem.

A knock at the sitting room door drew her from her forlorn contemplation. “My lady, Lady Danbury and the Sharmas have arrived to see you,” Mrs. Wilson said quietly through the door.

Good woman, Violet thought, at least there was someone near her that still believed in polite behaviour. Pulling her shoulders back, Violet raised from her chair and opened the door, giving Mrs. Wilson a polite smile.

“Please escort them to the drawing room, Mrs. Wilson,” Violet said gently.

“Would you be wanting tea service, my lady?” Mrs. Wilson said with a nod.

Pursing her lips, Violet held back an impolite smile. “Perhaps we should. After all, in the face of poor manners, ours should be impeachable.”

“Right away, my lady,” Mrs. Wilson confirmed before disappearing around a corner.

Making her way to the drawing room, Violet wondered if they had come to apologize for the events of the evening prior. Or perhaps they knew something about the elopement, more than the sparse words Anthony had scribbled in his note. Violet hoped Miss Edwina had left more information with her family as to why they had chosen to elope when their marriage had been ordained by the queen herself.

Yes, the distasteful way Miss Sharma had arranged for her sister to receive a dowry was… uncomfortable, but surely even if the ton were to hear of it, it would not create a bigger scandal than absconding to Scotland.

As Mrs. Wilson lead the servants in with the tea service, Violet fiddled with her fingers as she tried to understand what could have motivated her son’s behaviour. She had been certain Anthony held no affection for Miss Edwina, he had all but confirmed it prior to their dinner with the Sheffields. Yet, for her, it would seem he had been willing to tarnish their family’s reputation with an elopement.

As her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her, Violet heard the familiar sound of Agatha’s cane tapping along her floors, breaking her from her musings. A moment later, she appeared in the drawing room, Lady Mary behind her.

“Lady Danbury, I thought I might hear from you this—,” Violet’s speech fell short when, to her great surprise, Miss Edwina rounded the corner with Mrs. Wilson. “Miss Edwina,” she exclaimed, her hand shooting out to brace her on the back of a settee beside her.

Agatha frowned, looking between Violet and Miss Edwina before understanding seemed to dawn on her, clearing her expression. “Ah, I suppose this means Lord Bridgerton was not overly forthcoming in his explanation before he departed this morning then?” she asked, her brow raised high on her forehead.

At a loss for words, Violet swung her arm out to indicate that her guests should sit and lowered herself into her seat with as much grace as she could muster. Once their party was seated, Violet cleared her throat quietly and sat up.

“Forgive me,” she said with what she hoped was a serene smile, though she thought it might look rather deranged. “Anthony’s note only said he had set off for Gretna Green and would not return for at least a week. I thought he had left with his intend—,” she trailed off, her eyes cutting over to where Miss Edwina sat across the room, her expression more placid than she had expected.

With a sudden dizziness at the speed of her racing thoughts, Violet braced herself with a hand to her stomach. Anthony had eloped with Miss Sharma—Miss Kate Sharma. Violet had known he had a contentious but charged relationship with the lady but she would never have guessed that looks shared between them would lead to a hurried trip to Scotland.

Staring at Miss Edwina, Violet scanned her face for something that would help her make sense of this debacle, but the young lady sat primly as if nothing was amiss. It was decidedly curious and Violet could not help the frown that creased her brow as she watched Miss Edwina.

“Yes, well,” Lady Mary offered measuredly. “We were all in for a bit of a shock this morning. While I admit quite a few questions remain, Kate left a letter for Edwina that provided a few answers.”

“Though I dare say not enough,” Violet said under her breath, unable to hold back her ungracious thoughts of Miss Sharma. She had thought eloping with his intended was grave enough, but to abandon her for her elder sister, a spinster with negligible connections at best? It was more than Violet could bear.

“Lady Bridgerton,” Agatha warned and Violet turned her eye towards her old friend. “If we wish to determine a sensible plan for escaping this scandal with all our reputations intact, we should try to refrain from becoming too emotional.”

Violet scoffed, as she looked around the room, her desire to remain polite dwindling by the second. “Sensible,” she mocked.

“Yes, sensible.” Agatha frowned as she continued. “The potential scandal is great, but I do believe there is a way forward that benefits us all.”

“Oh, I am sure it will be beneficial to some,” she replied, turning her gaze away from the ladies across from her. It was not in Violet’s nature to be so outwardly rude to guests, but she thought it was a rather excusable sin considering the circumstances.

“I beg your pardon,” Miss Edwina said, her tone dry, quite unlike the soft speech Violet had grown accustomed to from her that season. “Are you implying we are pleased with Lord Bridgerton’s behaviour?”

Violet’s head turned sharply to look down at Miss Edwina. “Are we so certain it was my son who initiated this event?” she accused, ignoring the small gasp she heard from Lady Mary. “Anthony’s primary focus, at all times, is his duty to his family. He would never do something that may jeopardize our standing or the well-being of his siblings. Can you say the same of your sister?”

“My sister,” Miss Edwina said, folding her hands neatly in her lap, her posture not betraying the blazing emotion Violet saw in her eyes. “Would do anything to protect our family, even go so far as to sacrifice herself and her happiness to see that we are well taken care of.”

“Miss Edwina,” Agatha interrupted, though Violet could not stop, her anger and frustration had found a target and she found she was unwilling to let it go.

“Yes, the survival and well-being of your family is all but certain now, is it not, Miss Edwina,” Violet huffed disbelievingly.

Looking around the room at the wary expressions of Lady Danbury and Lady Mary, Violet felt as if she were in a waking nightmare. She could not comprehend how she alone seemed to grasp the gravity of the potential damage this elopement could cause her family.

“But what of my family?” she implored. “Your sister would secure your family's future at the cost of mine. How can I launch my daughters into society under such a cloud of shame?”

Shaking her head and staring at her hands fisted together on her lap, Violet felt a wave of fear wrack her body. If only Anthony had been wise enough to heed her advice and end the engagement, then perhaps, with time, he could have found a way to court Miss Sharma. Admittedly, their match would still stir a great reaction within the ton, but surely not nearly as damaging as eloping while he was still publicly betrothed to her sister.

She had misjudged her son as well as Miss Sharma, Violet thought as she exhaled slowly, her stomach in knots. She had thought them both more discerning and cautious when it came to the care and reputations of their families. It would seem, in imploring Anthony to follow his heart, he took her instruction too literally and had led himself and Miss Sharma over a cliff.

“We are here, Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Mary interjected, her voice louder and more forceful than Violet had ever heard from the lady. “To ensure that we reduce the impact of this potential scandal. If we come together to craft a plan, I am certain we can find a way through that benefits all our children.”

Huffing out a breath, Violet shot up from her seat to fix herself a cup of tea, her movements harsh and abrupt, creating a great noise as dishware clinked off each other. The current conversation was more trying than Violet’s attempts to explain to Hyacinth why it was unladylike to climb trees. Perhaps if she would have a moment of quiet, she could think of a solution on her own, as it would seem the Sharmas were only interested in saving themselves, no matter what impacts it had on the Bridgerton name.

When she sat back down, she pointedly ignored Agatha’s gaze, though she could feel it boring into her profile. Perhaps her guests thought her outburst rude, but Violet would not be inclined to agree. Her only ill-mannered act was failing to offer them tea.

“Kate will return from Scotland as the new Lady Bridgerton,” Miss Edwina said evenly.

Violet cut her gaze over to the young miss over the rim of her teacup. The pleasant smile Violet found alongside the anger in Miss Edwina’s eyes unnerved her and she lowered her cup.

“She will be responsible for launching your daughters into society in the upcoming seasons,” the young debutante explained. “And I assure you, that is a task my sister does not take lightly.”

With a slight shake of her head, Violet placed her teacup and saucer on the table before her and opened her mouth to respond but Miss Edwina continued.

“Prior to our arrival in England, my sister had been preparing me for my debut for eight years, with no tutors, no funds or tools at her disposal. She managed this task on the heels of my mother’s... sudden departure during her own season,” Miss Edwina said, her voice firm, but Violet was suddenly struck by how young she looked.

The poor girl, Violet thought, forced to navigate such a mess her first season in England.

“She was a young girl, without the means to protect her family and yet she moulded me into a diamond,” Miss Edwina continued, her posture straightening, her features becoming sharper as she spoke.

It was curious to watch and Violet found she could not look away. Miss Edwina raised her chin as she paused. When she spoke again, Violet found her speech changed, her words clipping in places she had not noted before, in fact, it reminded Violet of Miss Sharma.

“I was named the diamond in my first season,” Miss Edwina continued, holding Violet’s gaze with a proud expression that seemed beyond her years. “Even amongst young ladies who had been raised in this country, with your customs and your values. That is what she accomplished with nothing. Can you imagine what she will achieve with your daughters when she has more resources at her disposal? I would not be surprised if, with Kate as Viscountess Bridgerton, each of your daughters were named the diamonds of their respective seasons.”

Blinking, Violet felt her mouth gape as she tried to formulate a rebuttal to Miss Edwina’s claims, but she found she could not. Though she was not feeling overly charitable to Miss Sharma in the face of her actions, Violet had to admit, the young lady had accomplished something extraordinary.

“Now that we have established that Miss Sharma is as exceptional as we know her to be, shall we turn our minds to what we will do to mitigate this scandal?” Lady Dabury asked.

Violet glanced over at her friend but did not let her gaze linger on the smug expression she wore. She much preferred when she and Agatha were on the same team and Violet earned a proud look after a particularly scathing remark hidden in pleasantries. Violet found it unreasonably uncomfortable to be on the opposite side of such an exchange. Perhaps she had judged Miss Sharma too harshly, but who could blame her in the face of the choice she and Anthony had made?

“I thought perhaps Edwina and Miss Bridgerton could attend some smaller functions together,” Lady Mary added with a smile that Violet tried her best to return, though she wondered if it appeared to be more of a grimace than grin if the tension in her brow was any indication. “Edwina, dearest, I know you and Miss Bridgerton became good friends at Aubrey Hall, perhaps attending the event at the Royal Gallery next week would work well to disseminate the idea that you ended of the engagement cordially?”

“I would be delighted to, Mama,” Miss Edwina replied softly, just as Violet spotted Colin and Benedict entering the drawing room.

“Oh, I was unaware we had guests today,” Benedict said affably, he and Colin offering the ladies overly gracious bows.

“Benedict, Colin, unfortunately, we have a difficult situation and I need to speak to Lady Danbury and the Sharmas privately,” Violet said, rising from her seat to start ushering them out of the room.

“Actually,” Agatha started, rising from her seat to walk over to Violet. “They may be of use to us. Perhaps if your sons are busy courting, the ton may be too distracted by their activities to take note of… certain absences?” she said with a knowing look.

Violet had to admit, the plan held merit and she pursed her lips as she nodded slowly, looking back at her sons. They had both declared loudly that they had no plans to marry that season, so perhaps the smaller scandal of her sons courting eligible ladies with no intentions of marriage would draw eyes away from the broken engagement.

“Speaking of absences, where is your betrothed, Miss Edwina?” Colin asked, looking around Agatha to smile at the young lady. “You would think he would make an exception in his busy schedule to at least emerge from his study while his bride is visiting.”

“Colin,” Violet whispered, though her mind raced with possibilities. She looked back at Agatha who seemed to be coming to the same conclusions. “We could say he had urgent business back at Aubrey Hall, that should give us at least a week before he returns.”

“I believe that could work,” Agatha replied with a nod. “Come sit, gentlemen, and we will give you your marching orders.”

Violet moved to follow her sons to the seating area, but as she stepped forward, Miss Edwina rose and spoke quietly. “Lady Bridgerton, I wonder if we might speak in private?”

Her expression was unreadable, though Violet wondered if it had ever been readable at all, considering the young lady she had been dealing with today was a stark contrast to the mild-tempered miss she had known earlier that season. With a nod, she quietly gestured for Miss Edwina to follow her, leading her back to Violet’s private sitting room.

Closing the door behind her, Violet let out a steadying breath and chided herself for her outbursts that morning. It was unlike her to allow her emotions to direct her actions and it did not suit her. Shame swirled in her stomach as she realized Miss Edwina was faring much better than she at maintaining her manners despite the emotional circumstances.

Violet decided she must rise above the day's frustrations and behave with more decorum, as befitting a lady of her station. Turning to Miss Edwina, she offered her a polite smile and gestured towards the chairs.

“Miss Edwina I must apologize for the mess my son has made of your season,” Violet started but stopped when Miss Edwina held her hand out, her betrothal ring balancing on her outstretched palm.

“I wanted to return this to you,” Miss Edwina said quietly. “Mr. Brooks mentioned it was the ring your late husband had made for your engagement.”

Blinking back a sudden prick of tears in her eyes, Violet reached out and gently took the ring from her hand, running her fingers over the cool metal.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I always regarded it as a reflection of the great love and affection we held for each other, from the moment we met but,” she trailed off, peeking up to see a curious expression on Miss Edwina’s face. “Thank you for returning it.”

Nodding, Miss Edwina turned to sit, not waiting for an invitation. Violet felt her eyes round with surprise, she had guessed Miss Edwina only wished to return the ring in private, but followed suit and sat across from her.

“I do not know your son very well,” Miss Edwina started, smoothing out her skirt before folding her hands neatly on her lap. “Indeed I am discovering I did not know him at all, but I know my sister.”

Trying desperately not to let the rising frustration she felt show in her expression, Violet nodded. That morning had been trying enough, she did not need another lecture from a lady, many decades her junior, but she held her tongue.

“Perhaps in the short time our families have been getting to know one another, you have not had the opportunity to discover what kind of person my sister is, but Kate is the greatest sister anyone could ever wish for,” she said earnestly, her posture rigid and, dare she admit, commanding. Her demeanour was much unlike the mild-manner way Violet would have described her only the day prior. It would appear Violet did not know either Sharma sister as well as she thought she had.

“She will be a good addition to your family,” Miss Edwina continued, “A good wife to your son, a good sister to your children, and a good mother to hers. Please forgive me for being frank, but considering the circumstances and how swiftly we must move to minimize the damage their elopement will cause, I fear I must speak plainly. You have implied that you find my sister's behaviour with the Sheffields and her attempts to secure me a dowry distasteful, is this true?”

For the first time since the Sharmas had arrived that morning, Violet did not feel the desire to follow her impolite thoughts and stayed silent. As Miss Edwina spoke, the breadth of how little she understood their family sunk in, and further, she felt unnerved by how little control she held over the situation.

Anthony had ceased listening to her years ago, as evidenced by his actions that season, and where she thought Miss Edwina would transition from a demure debutante to a polished prospective daughter-in-law, Violet knew she was out of her depth. Perhaps if she did not speak, and did not add fuel to the fire, she may escape this conversation unscathed.

“While I initially found her actions with the Sheffields inexcusable,” Miss Edwina admitted measuredly, her gaze growing thoughtful. “When I read her letter, I wept for myself but also for my sister. I confess I was torn between my grief for her and hoping she was gone forever.”

For a moment, Violet saw a glimpse of Miss Edwina’s innocence, as she exhaled deeply and cast her gaze down at her hands. But as quickly as she saw Miss Edwina’s pain and youth, it was gone again, hidden behind a mask of polite gentility.

“It was only after I could see past my own pain that I could begin to understand hers. She has made choices that have hurt me, but she has also made countless others to protect me. I have come to recognize that she was operating as if she had both hands tied behind her back. Despite this impediment, still she found a way to guarantee our mama and I would be looked after, at great personal cost to her.”

This news made Violet frown. Access to the Sheffield fortune would open the doors to a life of lavish luxury for all the Sharmas if Miss Sharma’s dowry scheme had continued as planned. What cost could Miss Sharma be expected to pay in such a scenario, Violet thought.

“Let me ask you, Lady Bridgerton,” Edwina said, tilting her head to the side, making her look so much more like her sister than Violet had ever noticed. “If God forbid, Kate were to become a young widow, would you not be grateful to have someone as formidable as she operating on your daughter's behalf? What more could you ask for than a daughter-in-law that would go to great lengths to ensure they want for nothing?”

“Miss Edwina,” Violet interrupted, knowing her voice sounded patronizing, but such a thing could not be helped when a young lady of eight and ten was attempting to persuade her that the elopement scandal was, in fact, a benefit to her family. “I appreciate your candour, but please forgive me if I find it rather confusing.”

“In what regard,” Edwina asked, her expression calm and expectant.

“I—, well,” Violet stammered before clearing her throat and leaning forward. “Your sister has run away with your intended. After her secret dealings were revealed last night and considering your response to them then, I expected more anger on your behalf.”

Blinking slowly, what could only be described as a sardonic smile crept across Miss Edwina’s face, though her eyes hardened. Violet leaned back in her seat. Yes, she had greatly misjudged the young lady before her.

“My anger is between my sister and me,” Miss Edwina professed, her tone tight and measured. “As we can assume my sister and Lord Bridgerton have not yet made it to Gretna Green and been married over the anvil, I will thank you for agreeing that my feelings as such are a private family matter.”

Violet felt her mouth drop open and her hand fisted around her old betrothal ring, the edges of the floral design pressing sharply against her palm. The gall of this young lady, she thought. Before she could snap back a biting retort, Miss Edwina rose to her feet and stepped towards her.

“Kate may not tell me everything, as is any person’s right to privacy, but I am aware of more than she thinks,” Miss Edwina bit out.

The blank expression she had donned earlier disappeared from her face in an instant, replaced by something so harsh, Violet did not feel altogether comfortable in the face of it, though she could not tear her eyes away.

“Do not mistake me for a silly girl with no further depth than pretty smiles and pleasant manners,” she said cooly. “I have a mind of my own, and despite how I let the excitement of being courted cloud my judgement, I, like my sister, will do anything to protect those I love.”

“Miss Edwina,” Violet interjected, her breath rushing out of her as her heart beat furiously against her chest.

“Despite a tumultuous beginning, I believe Kate will be very happy with Lord Bridgerton,” Miss Edwina continued, undeterred. “In fact, she will have a far greater life than either of us had dreamed for her because she has done the remarkable—she has found love. A love so consuming that she would risk everything to secure it. So if I discover that she is unhappy in her new place in life, and it is not her ridiculous husband who is the cause of said unhappiness, I will have to assume it is born from a different direction.”

Violet felt her face grow cold as she blanched. She had never been spoken to in her life in the manner of Miss Edwina’s speech. She was affronted, but she could not help feeling like she had earned her chastisement by some measure. She groped around her mind for a reply, something to counter such accusations, but Miss Edwina pressed on.

“Your children are lovely,” Miss Edwina looked down at her coldly but still smiled. “Despite how poorly matched Lord Bridgerton and I were, they welcomed me with open arms, happy to include me as best they could. I believe we understand each other when I say if I were to note Kate was feeling unhappy in her new home, it is quite unlikely they would be the source of her discomfort.”

Despite the threatening tone, Violet had to admit, she was impressed by Miss Edwina’s tenacity. If these were the lengths the mild-mannered diamond would go to to protect the sister who had betrayed her, perhaps she had been right in attempting to convince Violet that her family would be safe under Miss Sharma’s eye.

Rising to her feet, Violet met Miss Edwina’s eye and despite the change in position, she still felt as if the young miss was still scolding her like a weathered, old governess. Wrapping both her hands around her ring, Violet gave Miss Edwina a small smirk.

“I think it is time we return to your mama, Miss Edwina,” Violet said, the order in her tone diffused by the begrudging respect she felt for her.

Blinking rapidly, perhaps surprised she had not been cast out entirely for such a speech, Miss Edwina nodded stiltedly.

“I think that is for the best,” Miss Edwina replied with the polite, diamond-worthy smile Violet had grown accustomed to. “We have much to do if we wish for both our families to escape this scandal unscathed.”

With that, Miss Edwina turned to the door and walked out, leaving a bemused and emotionally spent Violet in her wake. The silence of the room rang in her ears, Miss Edwina’s disrespectful, but noble threats sitting heavily on her chest. Heaving out a breath, Violet threw herself back into her seat and cast her gaze up to the ceiling.

She wanted to hold onto her anger, she had barely had an hour to sit with the knowledge that Anthony was in a carriage with an unmarried lady racing towards scandal. But, she had to admit, Miss Edwina’s impassioned speech on her sister’s behalf had implored her to pause and reflect before her fear for the future got the better of her.

Perhaps all might not be lost and with Miss Sharma at the helm, they may be able to weather the storm of the impending scandal. But until she returned with Violet’s wayward son, the task of mitigating the disaster would lie firmly on her, Agatha, Lady Mary and the newly formidable Miss Edwina’s shoulders.

Chapter Text

Smoothing her hands down her skirts, Kate took a deep breath and willed herself to calm as best she could. Her morning and afternoon had been emotionally taxing, to say the least, and the longer she sat alone, the more her nerves seemed to claw at her throat.

Exhaling sharply, Kate looked around her lodgings for the evening and took stock of the room—a small bed with rougher linens than she was accustomed to, a worn fireplace with a small, empty hearth above it and a narrow window that overlooked the inn’s stables. She was grateful Anthony had insisted they not share bedchambers, especially not whilst they were still so near to London, and she used her time alone to centre herself.

While she had not, even in her wildest fantasies, dreamt of eloping with Anthony, their journey to Gretna Green had been more emotionally fraught than she had anticipated. Earlier that day, Anthony had stared resolutely out the carriage window, avoiding her eye for what felt like hours without break. He seemed immersed in thought, though his expression shifted rapidly as if he were having a private, internal conversation and Kate’s pride had not allowed her to attempt to draw him out of his musings.

Their first two hours on the road had enraged Kate. In the quiet of her rented bedchambers, she could admit that sin to herself. The silence that rang through the small carriage, oppressive in its enormity, despite the sounds of the wheels bouncing along the dirt road and the quiet huffs of the horse's labour.

Before she could take stock of her feelings on the matter, the quiet had grated on her nerves until she sat next to Anthony with a simmering rage. By the time they stopped for a midday meal, Kate had convinced herself that the lack of conversation was a slight against her—an insult. A trait Edwina often harangued her for all her life, one that she still defaulted to, despite her efforts against such an inelegant habit.

In her own defence, she could never have anticipated that should they find a way to be together, Anthony and Kate would ever want for conversation. The sole instances in which they remained silent in each other's company during his doomed courtship with Edwina was due to indeed having too much to say to each other.

On several occasions, Kate found herself physically biting her tongue to keep from speaking her mind too freely with Anthony. There were far too many things she wanted to say but knew she should not. She presumed he felt the same if his clenched jaw and the pinched expression he often wore in her presence were any indication.

However, after their spontaneous picnic on the side of the road, the remainder of their carriage ride had been plagued with a particularly discomforting silence. The few times they exchanged words, which had only been a handful at best, their conversations were stilted and featured only the most inconsequential of topics. Anthony had barely looked in her direction, his gaze darting over only momentarily each time she spoke, then returning to scowl out the window. After the fourth such exchange, Kate abandoned her efforts at drawing Anthony into conversation at all.

Though, Kate thought to herself, she needn't be surprised by Anthony’s behaviour. After all, it was frustratingly common for him—to lure her into his orbit with whispered romantic declarations only to chill her with a quick change in his demeanour only moments later. She had hoped that after they had spoken their feelings aloud, and he had proposed to her, they would be past such childish games. However, that hope, it would seem, was just another fantasy.

A knock on her door interrupted her morose ruminations and Kate jolted up from her place on the bed. She crossed the floor quickly but stopped before reaching for the door handle. She assumed Anthony was at the door, perhaps he had thought enough for the day and was prepared to engage with her, at last. She warned herself to remain at ease, to not inject meaning into any prolonged silences between them. While she often found it strangely pleasurable to bicker with Anthony on any number of inane subjects, she needn't root out discord between them to fill lapses in conversation.

After all, she barely knew the gentlemen. Shaking her head, Kate quickly discarded the thought. She did know Anthony and she felt that he truly knew her on a level she had not known was possible. However, they had not spent much time in each other's presence, and as such, there were sure to be some rough seas as they charted their path together towards their future. The discomfort she felt at the start of their journey did not signify.

Resolved that she would do her best to remain positive and unencumbered by her ego, she pulled her shoulders back and opened the door.

“Anthony?” she called to his back as he faced away from her. Pulling the door open wider she stopped short when he turned around she noticed that he had changed his attire. Her eyes tracked over his frame as she drank him in.

It truly was not fair that he should be so handsome, it had the most disarming effect on her and rarely allowed her to think reasonably in his presence. As she admired the cut of his jacket and his waistcoat—that evening offering a lighter shade of blue than she’d ever seen him wear—her eyes caught on the damp curled hair at the nape of his neck and she smiled.

“Miss Sharma, would you care to join me for a meal?” he asked, his head dipping down in a slight bow. When he straightened again, she recalled why she had wanted to spend some time alone.

In all the time of their acquaintance, Kate regularly found herself driven to distraction by how expressive Anthony’s face was. His words, often harsh and formal, did not always match the expressions he wore. Whenever she found him behaving particularly confusingly, Kate could rely on watching his face to try to decipher what his true intentions were. That evening, however, it would seem his innermost thoughts were off limits, as his face revealed nothing for Kate to interpret.

She began to wonder if he was still plagued by the strange mood that had descended on him after their picnic, but his expression halted her thought in an instant. His eyes tracked across her face and hair, down her neck and to her dress, his gazing heating so drastically that Kate was certain her temperature rose in each spot his eyes landed.

Pursing her lips in an attempt to keep from smiling, Kate nodded and stepped forward, closing the door behind her. As she turned back to face Anthony, Kate slipped her hand around his outstretched arm and idly wondered if they would be a rather affectionate couple once married. She had often daydreamed about running her fingers through his hair, rubbing her thumb against his signet ring as they sat together in a drawing room, or even laying together in the tall grass at Aubrey Hall.

Sneaking a glance at Anthony’s profile, his aristocratic chin tilted high as they made their way down the creaky staircase of the inn, Kate could not feel certain that their marriage would be an affectionate one.

Dinner soured her mood. The distant air that had enveloped Anthony after their picnic was confirmed to have not abated in the slightest. In fact, it seemed to harden, as if it were a rusted suit of armour that surrounded him, creaking loudly and painfully each time Kate prodded at its seams. Conversation between them felt laboured. Despite the discomfort that permeated throughout the dinner, Kate was not dissuaded from attempting to revive their typically easy companionship.

“What do you imagine our daily life will entail when we return to town?” she asked after a particularly long stretch of silence between them.

It was clear to Kate that Anthony’s thoughts were far from their dining table as her question jolted him and he cleared his throat as he straightened in his seat.

“I—, I assume it will be like any other marriage,” he stammered, the crease between his brows growing more pronounced as he held her gaze. Kate tilted her head to the side, questioning his words and he outright frowned. “What is the true nature of your question?”

“Perhaps you recall the lengthy list of requirements you had for your bride at the beginning of the season,” Kate said lightly, leaning back against the tall wooden bench behind her. “Acceptable wit, good breeding, genteel manners,” she listed with a wave of her hand.

Anthony’s colour raised in his cheeks and Kate found herself fighting a smug smile that, at the very least, she could at least cause some reaction in him, even if it was what some would deem unfavourable.

“Kate, that list was—,” Anthony groaned, his shoulders slumping with frustration.

“I simply wish to know how you expect those qualities to be exemplified upon our return,” Kate interrupted with a wry smile. “Will I be banned from morning rides in the park or on the estate in Kent? Or will riding side saddle suffice for a demonstration of my gentility?”

“Kate,” Anthony rolled his eyes before levelling her with what she assumed was a look that intended to intimidate her into agreeability. But no one had ever dared to describe Kate as such in her life, and as she returned Anthony’s glare with a toothy smile, she thought why should she begin striving for a docile nature now?

“I do not expect you to change your every habit,” he continued, leaning forward to thread his fingers together against the table. “But, as Viscountess, there will be a level of… shall we say, public decorum, that we are both expected to adhere to.”

“Naturally,” Kate agreed with a nod and waited for Anthony to outline his expectations. When he did not, she raised her brows expectantly.

“Well, I suppose,” Anthony stammered, frowning as he struggled to answer her initial question. He scoffed, his eyes darting around the room as he seemed to grow flustered under her attention. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why are you having such trouble explaining what our lives will entail?” Kate asked incredulously. “I recognize that our engagement was rather rushed, but surely you had plans when you set out for a wife this season? Or at least spoke to your mother about the transferring of duties once Edwina was to join the family?”

Anthony’s mouth, which had hung slightly open while Kate spoke, shut with an audible click and his gaze grew unfocused.

“Where are we to live?” Kate asked, her brow drawing together with a scowl. “Will we stay at Bridgerton House for the remainder of the season or will your mother be moving to a dowager house? Where will the youngest of your siblings live? With us, or with her? You must have at least had a plan for Edwina as Viscountess considering your nuptials were only a month away.”

“I—,” Anthony choked out, his eyes rounding as he suddenly looked up at Kate. “I must confess, I did not.”

“I beg your pardon,” Kate whispered, leaning forward to frown at him. “Whatever did you say to my sister when she asked of your future together?”

“Well, I told her,” he said, fidgeting in his seat as his eyes strayed away from hers, fixing themselves on something of utter importance on the tabletop. “I explained to Miss Edwina that it was likely that my duties would keep me from home and we would not see each other often.”

Leaning back so abruptly her spine knocked against the bench behind her, Kate gaped as she listened. Surely this was an elaborate jest on Anthony’s part. Edwina had balked when Lady Danbury had described the tepid, business-like nature of most marriages of the ton. Her sister would never have agreed to such a cold depiction of her future, or if she had, she must have only known the truth after she had already accepted his offer.

“And your children?” Kate hissed as she crossed her arms around her stomach, feeling anger on her sister's behalf quickly building inside her.

“Your sister was made aware of this before our betrothal,” he retorted, his eyes hard as his gaze snapped up to hers. “You believe that I crafted a grand deception to lure your sister into an unhappy marriage but I explained in explicit terms what she could expect from our marriage and she accepted.”

Scoffing, Kate bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she would regret. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply as her thoughts spiralled out of her control, frustration, hurt and anger swirling in a torrent in her chest.

They were both so idiotic, Kate thought, Anthony and her sister. Both were so determined to continue with such a disastrous match, a determination seemingly fueled only by sheer stubbornness. Anthony with his need to best Kate in winning her sister out from under her, and perhaps Edwina with a desire to be seen as a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions without the advice of her sister.

Opening her eyes again, she pinned Anthony with a glare, momentarily mollified when he shrank back in the face of it.

“Surely you do not expect me to be pleased with such an arrangement,” Kate sniffed. “I will tell you now Anthony Bridgerton, I will not accept a life such as the one you have outlined for my sister. If you believe I will, we ought to turn around and return to town now.”

“What,” Anthony barked, plastering his hands down against the table. “Of course, I do not, Kate. Don’t be absurd.”

With a harsh laugh, Kate fisted her hands against her torso. “What is absurd is my sister accepting such a bleak glimpse of her future and you so brazenly informing your intended that you will never share a home with her.”

Wed, bed, and bred, indeed, Kate thought nastily to herself as she turned away from him, facing the other tables that had begun to fill around them. Was this truly the man she had risked everything for? She had thought the Anthony she loved was the same man she had met on horseback her first morning in London, not the insipid facsimile of a gentleman she’d encountered at the Conservatory Ball. Perhaps she, like Edwina, had only seen in him what she wanted to see.

“I informed her of my… intentions,” Anthony reiterated measuredly. “Prior to making her an offer. At Aubrey Hall, I explained as best as I could that ours would not be a marriage filled with tenderness and affection, and she happily accepted.”

Sliding her gaze back over to Anthony, Kate kept her face turned from him as she assessed his sincerity. To her great disappointment, by the expression he wore, Kate could tell he was in earnest and that confirmation broke her heart. Poor Edwina, Kate thought. She had not prepared her sister well enough for her first season in London, not for the glamour that created an inciting sheen over the rather murky intentions of its inhabitants. Kate had known her sister was being swept away by the grandeur of being selected as the Queen’s diamond and her being courted by a well-respected viscount, but she had not anticipated the severity of the situation.

Had the dinner with the Sheffields not gone awry, perhaps Edwina would have married Anthony and begun their cold, distant life together. Kate shook her head as she imagined her sister's heartbreak once the shine wore off and the reality of the life she had agreed to sank in. Shackled into marriage with a cantankerous, distant husband with no recourse for her mistake, the sister she loved would be crushed under the weight of such a loveless fate.

“Kate, I understand this news is distressing,” Anthony hedged, reaching across the table with an outstretched hand. “But I did not tell you this to upset you. It is simply the truth of the fate I had resigned myself to before you.”

With a deep exhale, Kate shifted in her seat to face him. She assumed he thought his speech was comforting, or at the very least, optimistic about their future, but it only broke her heart further. As his eyes shifted down to his open hand laid against the table and then back up to her, Kate reluctantly found herself lifting her hand to lay atop his. Instantly, his fingers curled around hers, the warmth of his hand, juxtaposed with the chill she felt in her heart, made her want to pull away, but she stayed fast.

“Anthony,” she sighed, unsure what she was planning to say as she felt too wary to continue the conversation towards any further uncomfortable truths.

“When I returned my steed to the stables this morning I found myself thinking of Aubrey Hall,” Anthony confessed quietly. “I imagined spending the mornings riding around our estate together. And of beating you at Pall Mall.”

A laugh burst out of Kate before she could stop herself and she drew her disengaged hand up to her lips to hold back what felt like an impending snort.

“Perhaps that is where we shall live,” he continued with a soft smile, the flame from the lamp beside them shining in his eyes. “And I should like to keep my mother with us during the season at Bridgerton House, while Hyacinth and Gregory are still young.”

Returning his smile, Kate imagined the loud and boisterous house she was days away from joining. She always liked having young ones in the house, having been responsible for her beloved sister at such a young age. Kate had only fond memories of the years before her father’s passing when her only responsibility had been to take the blame for whatever mischief she had embroiled Edwina in on any given day.

“That is if you are amenable,” Anthony finished, squeezing her fingers gently, pulling her from her thoughts and back to the man before her, who was offering her a life filled with something, though she doubted either of them could say for certain what that was.

“I quite like that plan,” Kate replied softly, feeling a rush of warmth spread through her limbs when Anthony’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “I do wish to hear more, however. I still do not understand how you could resign yourself to such a tepid life,” she added and felt her heart sink as the smile wiped from Anthony’s face with shocking speed.

Not for the first time in her life, Kate wished she possessed the ability to hold her tongue, to not give voice to the niggling concerns about Anthony’s motivations in marriage. But, she rationalized that she was not yet a true lady of the ton, and could allow herself a few more days to speak her mind as freely as she wished.

Just as she opened her mouth to prod the topic further, the sharp sound of a fiddle stole her attention. Kate turned her head to follow the sound and observed a small group of musicians tuning the instruments across the room. She cast her gaze around the room and noted several workers at the inn moving tables and chairs from the dining area to line them against the wall of the hall they sat in.

“What is happening?” Kate asked quietly as she watched guests file into the large room, the sound of their merriment bouncing off the walls.

“The proprietor notified me that they would be hosting a wedding reception later in the evening,” Anthony answered and Kate turned to see him regarding her with bright eyes, his thumb swiping lazily against her hand.

“Oh,” Kate shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling embarrassed for brazenly holding his hand in public. Pulling back abruptly, Kate slipped her hand from his and traced along the warmth his grip had left behind on her palm with her fingers. “Then I should retire to my rooms, I do not wish to intrude on the celebration.”

“Not at all,” Anthony waved her concerns off, sitting back in his seat with an easy expression. Within moments the hall filled with a great number of guests, and were it not for the relaxed accents and boisterous laughter, she might have thought she was back in town at a society ball. “They invited us to stay for the reception if we wished.”

Tearing her eyes from Anthony’s, Kate’s gaze tracked around the room, revelling in the open merriment each person seemed to carry about them. Her shoulders relaxed without her notice as she felt a small smile creep up her face in the presence of such excitement.

Groups of women giggled in the corners, men shouted for the musicians to strike up a song, and children ran back and forth across the room. She had not noticed how dearly she missed such open displays of joy and camaraderie since she had been enshrouded by the tight, stiff politeness of English society. She dearly missed the loud, rhythmic pull of the songs of her countrymen back home, the colours and smells of her culture—so oppositional to the reserved rigidity that permeated every aspect of the ton.

As the crowd shifted to accommodate a dancefloor, Kate stretched her neck to watch women smiling with loud, brave grins, and the young men bowing to them with grandiose, sweeping gestures. While the country ball she observed was a far cry from the colourful exuberance of a ball in India, she felt drawn in by the unconcealed pleasure they displayed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Anthony rise to his feet and Kate turned to find him standing beside their table, his hand outstretched to her. Looking to his face, she saw his expression shift to an enticing smirk she had only briefly glimpsed before.

“Miss Sharma, would you care to dance?” he asked with mirthful formality.

“I would, my lord,” she answered, slipping her hand back in his as he pulled her to her feet and into the crowd that surrounded the dancefloor. Before she could think, Anthony had deposited her aside tittering young ladies around Edwina’s age and he jogged across the floor to join the men.

Breathlessly, Kate looked around her and suddenly realized she may not know the dance ahead of her. As she shifted to raise her hand and signal to Anthony that she would need his aide, a voice beside her stole her attention.

“It is a simple country dance, Miss,” a young girl with deep auburn hair and a charming smattering of freckles across her nose told her. “If you lose your way, laughter and a great deal of hopping around will mask your unfamiliarity.”

“I daresay I will resemble a rabbit by the end of this dance then,” Kate laughed, wiping her hands down her skirts as the band struck up their first notes of the dance.

“Then let us be rabbits,” the young lady replied grinning, before nodding her head towards the middle of the dancefloor. “Come on then!”

For the next two hours, Kate hopped about the dance floor with the young ladies of the village, laughing and feeling lighter than she had in years. Each time she met Anthony in the centre of the floor, she felt as if she were jolted awake by each brush of his hands, energized by the light in his eyes and the sound of his laughter as he spun her around the room.

An older gentleman, a Mr. Kentley approached her for a dance when the noise of the room seemed to grow a pulse, pushing Kate to giddily accept his offer. Shuffling around the room with Mr. Kentley, her cheeks aching from the smiles his quips and stories inspired in her, she noticed Anthony downright scowling at the gentleman's back and she burst out in a peal of laughter so robust she had to excuse herself from the dance floor.

After that dance, she did not spend a single moment for the remainder of the evening far from Anthony’s reach. The only reprieve she had from dancing each set was when they shared several glasses of ale back at their table, Anthony’s gaze ferocious and heady as he peered at her over the rim of the glass. Though perhaps they should have exchanged their drink for water as their final dance found them tripping over their feet, falling into each other as they laughed through the set.

Ordinarily, after an hour on her feet dancing, Kate would find her way to a back wall of an event hall and fix herself amongst the wallflowers and mamas. But she could not peel herself away from the sight of Anthony’s boyish grin each time she gulped down her ale too quickly and hiccuped indelicately in response. She felt intoxicated by his carefree air, it reminded her of their mishap in the mud during their game of Pall Mall and she was keen to prolong their evening together while he remained so open to her.

She also found herself quite desperate to stay in a space where guests did not notice if his touch lingered too long at her waist, or when a lock of her hair fell from her braided updo and he twirled it around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. They seemed to share breath as his hand lightly grazed the shell of her ear, sparking a hot flash of gooseflesh along her arms. Before she could lean into the touch, however, the friends they had danced with that evening hollered and shouted for them to join another dance.

The room erupted in rhythmic clapping and stomping of feet as the dancing couples arranged in a large circle around the floor before breaking off into pairs to spin in dizzying laps. Kate hopped about, feeling quite like the rabbit she had suspected herself to be at the beginning of the evening, with three different gentlemen before she was matched again with Anthony. He held her close and grinned down at her and she was struck by the difference between their sets that evening and the first dance they had shared at his mother’s Hearts and Flowers ball.

Indeed, that dance had felt charged; Kate’s heart felt as if it were close to beating out of her chest as they held each other for the first time. But ultimately that evening had been riddled with nerves and unease—each touch felt clandestine and each time their eyes connected Kate could feel the weight of all that was unspoken between them.

But as Anthony spun Kate in a wide circle, wrapping his arm around her waist much tighter than the dance seemed to call for, her mind emptied of any thoughts that did not begin and end with each point of contact between them.

As the last notes of their dance rang through the hall, Anthony spun Kate around and despite worrying the world around her may never stop spinning, she savoured the moment despite her dizziness. The guests around them erupted in applause and Kate turned to face Anthony, threading her fingers through his as he tilted his face to give her a private smile through heaving breaths.

Without speaking they turned from the dancefloor and made their way out of the room, the raucous laughter of the wedding guests chasing behind them. Kate could feel her pulse thrumming in her hand where it made contact with Anthony’s as they slowly made their way back to the staircase to their chambers.

Looking up to his face, Kate was surprised to see the carefree attitude they had adopted during the wedding reception had remained in Anthony’s expression. Perhaps her earlier concerns about affection in their marriage were unfounded as he tenderly held her hand, his thumb swiping against her finger as they made their way up the stairs.

Just before they reached the threshold of her bed chamber door, Anthony pulled her to a stop, tugging her hand until she turned to face him. He still seemed a great deal more relaxed than she’d seen him in weeks, but the look in his eye shifted and his gaze grew darker as he stepped closer to her. Anthony dropped Kate’s hand and palmed both of her hips, making her pulse jump and her breath grow shallow. She took a step back as he advanced on her, stopping only when her back bumped up against the solid wood of the door to her chambers.

The sound of the celebration below them died out as Kate’s pulse drummed erratically in her ears, her lips parting as Anthony’s gaze dropped to them. She could barely think, barely focus on where she was, and if they could be spotted by any passers-by. He leaned forward and she felt her eyes fluttering closed as she wondered if he was finally, finally about to kiss her.

Lifting her hands to rest against his where they sat on her hips, Kate felt Anthony’s breath ghosting against her lips as he leaned in, their noses brushing against each other. Just as she tilted her chin up to meet his lips with hers, he tilted his head to the side and left a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. Kate could feel herself panting as her hands slid up his wrists, trailing along the warm velvet of his coat before fisting the fabric at his shoulders.

Blood heating in her veins, Kate pushed forward to press her front against his, delighting when Anthony croaked out a small groan at the contact. He shifted his head and pressed another kiss to the opposite side of her mouth, still pointedly avoiding her lips. Frustration mingled with the dizzying lust that raced through her and Kate lifted one of her hands to scrape her nails along the base of his skull, desperate to pull him closer and taste his mouth.

Pressure at her hips distracted her as Anthony’s hands pressed her against the door. Kate let her head loll back against the hard wood as he shifted again and began mouthing at her jaw, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

“Anthony,” Kate keened, shifting restlessly against him.

“Hmm?” he hummed as his mouth dragged along the column of her neck. Kate fisted her hand in his hair and pulled his head away from her to look him in the eye.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips against his.

“I’m seeing you to your room,” he replied, licking his lips, the tip of his tongue catching the seam of her top lip. Kate panted against him, desperate for the teasing to end, to pull him down against her and satiate the burning need she felt for him. “And I am wishing you goodnight,” he groaned as Kate writhed against him, and he returned his attentions to her neck.

“Will you not give me a goodnight kiss,” Kate breathed as his tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping against her neck.

He paused, pulling his face away from her neck, though his hands began to rove, shifting from their position on her hips to circle around her back.

“No, it would not be proper,” he said firmly, his face hovering above hers. “I have already risked tarnishing your reputation with our elopement. I will not take liberties before we are wed,” Anthony whispered, though his words contradicted him as his hands grasped her bottom roughly, pulling her forcefully up against him.

A moan slipped from her lips before she could stop herself as his groin pressed against hers, making Kate’s legs tingle. She tried again, carding her fingers through his hair, gently tugging his face to hers, but he held back before they could make contact.

Unsure if she should scream in frustration or laugh in his face at such a preposterous notion of propriety, Kate let her head fall back with a dull thunk against the door.

“My virtue is more valuable to you than giving your intended a goodnight kiss?” she asked, closing her eyes as Anthony leaned in to inhale deeply against her neck. When he did not respond, Kate let her hand fall from his shoulder and felt behind her for the door handle.

She could feel her will to wrest control of the situation from him dwindle as he groaned against her skin, mouthing along at her collarbone, his hips pressing against hers in time with the kisses he peppered along her chest. But, Kate knew she was nothing if not determined to reign victorious over him whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Mumbling words she could not make out, Anthony continued his attention at her neck, his tongue laving at her skin in hot, languid stripes that nearly made Kate lose her grip on the door handle.

“Well then, I bid you goodnight,” she breathed, extracting herself from his grip as she turned the handle and the weight of their bodies pressed up against the door quickly swung it open. Kate took a large step behind her, crossing the threshold and moving to close the door before Anthony registered she had moved at all.

The final view of him she received before shutting the door was of his outstretched arms, his hands grasping at air, his entire body bent forward around the empty space she used to inhabit. Kate rolled her lips together to keep from laughing as she watched his eyes blink open in confusion, just as the door slammed shut.

Spinning to lean back against the door, Kate lifted her hand to her mouth and stifled a laugh at the image of Anthony panting in a lustful embrace with the air. She was glad she had not allowed herself to laugh aloud as she heard him grumble through the door.

“You, Miss Sharma, are a menace,” he said, making Kate snort loudly, the sound of her laughing echoing in her empty chambers.

“Goodnight, my lord,” she called over her shoulder, with a grin.

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice muffled through the door. She inhaled deeply to calm herself before she thought she heard him continue with “My darling,” though she could not be certain.

By the time she had spun around to press her ear up against the door, all she could make out was the sound of his boots shuffling against the creaking floors as he walked away. Pushing away from the door with a muttered curse under her breath, Kate threw herself on her bed and pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her racing heart beating wildly against her palm.

Hours after she’d dressed for the evening, wondering after Anthony’s confusing behaviour that afternoon, she was no closer to finding answers for his actions. But, as her pulse eventually slowed and the haze of lust he had inspired in her dissipated, she wondered if she ought not to have some fun with him if he planned on evading the truth when she asked.

If he wished to play with her, delivering half-truths and making her head spin with the speed at which he changed moods, then she would play along. However, it was only fair that she insisted on beating him at his own game.

Chapter Text

A quiet knock at the door drew Anthony’s attention from the blank piece of parchment he’d been staring at for the better part of an hour.

After Kate had revealed that she had left a letter for her sister behind, Anthony had been ashamed he’d not thought to leave one himself. Their conversation over dinner at the inn a few nights prior only confirmed how poor his behaviour was indeed. However, chastising himself for his inaction did not help matters, and Anthony had always prided himself on being a man of action. So he had finally resolved to sit down and pen a letter to Miss Edwina to apologize, though he found he had not the appropriate words to explain himself if any such words existed at all.

Standing with a huff, Anthony reached for his pocket watch and crossed the floor to see who was at the door.

“Yes?” he called behind the door as he glanced at the time. It was a minute past midnight and Anthony assumed only a coachman or the innkeeper would disturb him at such a late hour.

“Anthony, open the door,” Kate answered, her voice muffled behind the wood.

At the sound of her voice, Anthony hastily reached for the door handle before he could commit the thought to action.

“Kate,” he breathed when his eyes connected with hers in the small crack in the doorway. He was immeasurably pleased to see her, as he always was until he remembered where they were and the duty he had toward her protection. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be wandering the halls alone at this hour.”

“Well then, it would be in my best interest for you to let me in before someone discovers me,” she whispered, her eyes shining with a mischief Anthony knew would not bode well for him.

Frowning, Anthony wrested the door open and beckoned her inside. “Kate, are you unwell, or do you get a thrill from courting gossip?” he asked, quickly glancing down the empty hall before closing the door as quietly as he could.

“I could ask you the very same, my lord. Or perhaps we have discovered how a man so intelligent could make so many foolish choices this season,” Kate said lightly, her gait and expression carefree and languid as she turned to take in the room around her. “You are so consumed by concern for your reputation that you are left with little room in your head for rational thought.”

“Kate,” Anthony said, his voice sounding uncomfortably close to a whine. Straightening his shoulders, he tried not to let his mind wander as Kate turned toward his bed and sat down.

He had gone too far with her the other night when he’d avoided the temptation of kissing her against her bedchamber door, he knew he had gone too far. Propriety demanded he take corrective action for that slight and Anthony knew spending any extended time alone outside of travel in their carriage, with a bed present no less, was tempting fate. He was a gentleman, but with Kate, he required all the help he could get to not throw caution to the wind and consummate their elopement before they were married.

Resolved that his will was stronger than his desire Anthony straightened his shoulders. “You should not be here—,” he started before she interrupted.

“Do you have the time?” Kate asked, tilting her head to the side as she peered up at him. Her expression was calm, one could even argue innocent, if not for that look in her eye that Anthony knew typically signalled trouble.

“I—, well yes,” he stammered, frowning as he pulled out his pocket watch again. “It is just past midnight,” he answered, shoving the watch into the pocket of his breeches as he became suddenly aware of how underdressed he was. As was Kate for that matter. Her hair was braided to the side, soft pieces trailing down from her temples to touch her shoulders, which Anthony noticed with a singular focus, were bare. Save for the shawl she had loosely wrapped around her arms, Kate was dressed only in a shift and slippers.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” she smiled, forcing Anthony’s attention away from her form back to her face. She seemed calm, too calm for the circumstances, and far calmer than Anthony felt at their state of undress, alone in his rented bedchambers at midnight.

“How do you figure that?” he sniffed, turning away from her to clear his head.

Perhaps if he didn’t look at her, Anthony would not be tempted to break the oath he’d made to himself to not touch her — too much— until they married. He set about cleaning up the untouched parchment he’d laid out for Miss Edwina’s letter as he spoke. “Though we are only mere hours away from Gretna Green, the risk of scandal should we be discovered together alone is still great. Should someone from the ton happen by this very inn, they could bring whatever gossip they find here home and damage your reputation. And we must think of our sisters too, of course.”

“It is past midnight, Anthony. Your concerns for my virtue are no longer necessary,” Kate said quietly from behind him, her voice much closer than he’d anticipated. Hands gripping the parchment so tightly he felt it crumble, Anthony squeezed his eyes tightly as he took her meaning.

“Kate,” he warned.

“It is our wedding day,” she continued, her voice travelling as she moved around him, beckoning him to open his eyes like a siren call.

Everything about Kate was intoxicating. Her voice, her scent, her mind, the heat of her body radiating off of her, compelling him to press forward, to lean into the touch of her hands that trailed up his arms until they rested on his shoulders. Kate’s pull was insistent and unyielding, just like the woman herself, but Anthony was determined to resist. He refused to open his eyes and confirm what he knew was a devious plan of hers intent on his moral destruction.

“In a few hours, we will depart for the last leg of our journey,” Kate whispered, and Anthony felt his heart stutter in his chest as her face drew closer, her breath ghosting against his lips. “By midday, we will arrive in Gretna Green, and soon after that, we will be married.”

“Yes, but—,” Anthony finally opened his eyes to argue but stopped short when he took in the sight of Kate draped around him.

Her eyes were liquid amber, warm and viscous, keeping him trapped in her gaze.

“We are to be married today,” Kate said with a measure of finality. “If you were holding back to ensure my virtue was secured at our wedding, we have arrived at that day. Surely there is no harm now to share an innocent kiss before we conclude our journey?”

As Kate leaned in to trail her nose along the line of his throat, Anthony found his breath grow ragged and he knew no contact between them could ever be counted as innocent.

With false confidence he did not have, Anthony scoffed before saying, “Your logic leaves much to be desired.”

“Perhaps,” she breathed before pulling back to look at him directly. Anthony’s gaze dropped to her mouth as Kate’s tongue peeked out to lick her lips. Heat rushed to his groin and his hands moved to grip her waist before he could stop himself.

Kate huffed out a frustrated breath that should not have been considered seductive but lured him in all the same.

“Is there another reason that you resist? Do you not desire me, Anthony?” she asked, her hands gently moving to card through his hair.

Squeezing his eyes shut again, Anthony focused every bit of his energy on not yielding to her seduction. Kate had issued him a challenge, to convince him to forsake his duty to guard her virtue, and despite how quickly he was losing his resolve on that matter, he could never shy away from besting her when the opportunity presented itself. Virtue be damned, he would not lose in their battle of wills.

With a clenched jaw, Anthony opened his eyes again just in time for one of Kate’s wayward hands to travel to his jaw, her featherlight touch igniting a fire under his skin as it trailed to his lips.

“I desire you. And I want a kiss before we are married,” she whispered, leaning forward as his mouth dropped open enough for the tip of her thumb to slip past his lips, pulling his bottom lip down.

“Kate,” Anthony panted, as Kate’s eyes flicked up from his mouth to regard him with a smile that pooled heat in his belly.

“Just a kiss, darling, that is all,” Kate breathed, leaning forward to brush her lips against her thumb, the heat of her breath luring him in.

“I—, I think—,” he stammered, battling against himself to remain focused on denying her, but finding his will crumbling by the minute as his blood rushed to his cock.

“It is our wedding day,” Kate interrupted, her other hand moving from his hair down his chest, stopping to fiddle with the buttons of his open vest. “No one will know if we share a kiss, just a kiss before we are married.”

Despite the tightening in his breeches, blood pounded in Anthony’s ears, blocking out any coherent thought that would argue against her. With a ragged exhale, he relented, “Just a kiss then.”

Before he’d finished speaking, Kate pushed forward and sealed her lips to his. Anthony felt his whole body pulse with heat the moment their lips connected. He’d wanted to maintain some level of decorum, to share a kiss brief enough to save her virtue while satiating his building desire for her, but as Kate’s mouth opened and her tongue pressed against his lips, he knew he was powerless against whatever she asked of him, propriety be damned.

Anthony’s hands began roving, shifting to pull at the fabric of her shift, lifting and bunching it in his hands but his movements stalled when Kate’s hands fisted his vest and tugged him forward. Before he could ascertain where she was leading him, Anthony felt himself spun around and tossed backward onto his bed.

Eyes snapping open as he bounced against the mattress, Anthony lifted his arms to prop himself up. “Kate, what are—,” he started before she descended on him, her eyes dark and filled with heat as she straddled his body and fused her lips to his again.

And he was lost. Any hopes for keeping her chaste until they had jumped over the anvil dissipated in an instant, as Kate’s tongue invaded his mouth, her hips dragging indecently against his. With a groan he fell back onto the mattress and let Kate have her way with him, the last rational thought he had before his senses departed completely, was that he ultimately deserved it. For days prior he had satiated his desires as much as he could with Kate, inhaling her skin at the doorway of her bedchambers, rutting up against her like an animal in heat, but never allowing himself a kiss. If the number of times he had to take himself in hand after he returned to his bedchamber for that evening signified, he had led them both to the edge of a cliff of lust, he could not fault Kate for pushing them over at long last.

“Anthony,” Kate moaned, breaking from the kiss to pant against his ear as her hips snapped forward sharply, dragging against his cock in an exquisite torture.

Turning his head to her neck, Anthony licked and sucked at the skin he found below her jaw as his hands skated down her back to pull her bottom more firmly against him. Kate’s breath turned laboured, panting as she rocked against him over and over and Anthony worried he may spend in his pants if they kept going any further.

As a frustrated whine keened out of Kate’s throat, Anthony flipped their position, throwing Kate on the mattress beneath him. Raising on one arm, he looked at his wife beneath him, her lips swollen and colour high in her cheeks. His wife. Perhaps they had not yet said the words in the presence of a priest, but it was their wedding day after all. What sort of husband would he be if he left her in this state without some satisfaction?

“What do you need, Kate?” he asked, dipping down again to capture her lips, losing himself in the push and pull of her mouth for several long moments before he remembered he’d asked her a question. Moving back to her neck, Kate choked out a breath as Anthony’s hand brushed along the side of her body, stopping to brush his thumb across her breast.

“I need you,” she breathed as she squirmed beneath him, unable to find relief from their new position, with Anthony’s body lying half across her.

“And you have me,” he replied, kissing her lightly as he let his hand roam back down to her hip, pulling at her skirts again. “But where would you like me?”

Kate’s eyes drifted open as the skirt of her shift pooled around her lips. With as soft a touch as he could manage, Anthony trailed his fingers along the back of her thigh, moving slowly as Kate panted beneath him.

Just as he reached the apex of her thighs Kate closed her eyes again, looping her arms around his neck to pull him back down to her mouth.

“There, Anthony,” she whispered against his lips. “I need you right there.”

At once, he kissed her deeply, licking into her mouth indulgently as his hand cupped her. For what felt like hours, Anthony indulged himself at her lips, feeding himself with her sharp, shallow breaths and how she restlessly shifted under his hand. The moment Anthony felt her pull back to demand more of him, he pressed a finger into her, his gaze greedily following her expression as her head shot back against the mattress as she moaned.

Perhaps he had planned to move slowly, to bring her to completion with drawn-out pleasure, but Kate never let him follow his own designs. She babbled between hot, open-mouthed kisses, demanding more, pushing him further, to give her more and he could not deny her.

“Kate, god,” he groaned into her neck, as he pushed in another finger, his arm straining as he heeded her command and moved faster inside her. His cock pulsed at her hip, desperate for attention, but he found he could not move to satiate himself, not when her pleasure was too captivating, her expression as she lost herself in their lust so beautifully intoxicating.

Grinding the sole of his palm against her, Anthony felt sweat bead on his brow as he worked her higher, her hands gripping and releasing the fabric of his vest at staggered intervals.

“Anthony,” Kate choked out, her head twisting to find his lips as she writhed with pleasure. “I need—, I need—,” she stammered.

Curling his fingers inside her, Kate opened her eyes as Anthony grunted against her lips, “I love you, Kate.”

With a strangled moan, Kate exploded around him, her pleasure filling the room, blinding him to all else but her. Sated, she arched into his fingers, her chest touching his, as the small tremors of her pleasure subsided. Leaning forward to kiss her again, Anthony breathed in her satisfaction, delighting in her slacked jaw and lazy hands as they caressed his face.

Pulling back to settle them more comfortably on the bed, Anthony looked down at Kate to speak when they heard a noise from the hallway. Kate jumped up instantly, setting her shift to rights and jumping down off the bed to retrieve her discarded shawl.

Blinking in confusion, Anthony watched her hurry about the room, unsure if he should ask her to stay for the remainder of the night or assist her in returning to her bedchambers unseen. Before he could decide, however, Kate rounded the bed, kissed him firmly and briefly and smiled.

“I will see you in the morning, husband,” she whispered.

Anthony’s mouth opened and closed several times as he attempted to form a response, to order his body to move, to do anything. Instead, he watched her quickly cross the floor, throw him another private smile, and slip out the door.

Hours later, Anthony lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his blood hot and insistent as it coursed through his veins, but he did not find any relief. Perhaps this was Kate's punishment, he thought and smiled at the rafters above him. His very cunning bride had come to visit him that night for one purpose, and he could not help but respect her for outstrategizing him. She had, technically, gotten what she desired, with her virtue still intact and Anthony had had no hand in ensuring it so. If Kate’s leaving him unsatiated and still burning with desire for her had been a punishment, it was one he would happily endure for however long he had left to live.

Letting his eyes drift closed a moment, the sun began to peek through his window and Anthony resigned to getting no sleep that night as thoughts of Kate’s face, the ecstasy he had witnessed and the taste of her lips. The following day was a blur of activity, awareness of himself coming to Anthony in short bursts. Meeting Kate in the carriage just after dawn, the smug look she tossed his way, followed by restless hands smoothing her skirts, arriving at a blacksmiths workshop, the sights and smells of Scotland being familiar yet distractingly different than London or Kent, standing beside the blacksmith as he waited for Kate beside two strangers who would play their witnesses and the itch of his necktie, threatening to strangle him as he waited.

It was not until Kate appeared in front of him, dressed in a deep maroon dress, a glittering gold and red veil resting atop her head and shoulders was Anthony able to come back to himself. He found himself transfixed by the colours of her wedding attire, the way the colours seemed to light her from within, the bangles he fiddled with at her wrists and the private smile she tossed at him as the blacksmith droned on.

He was pleased at the very least, that his mind had not entirely left him when he managed to speak at the correct moment during the vows. Or, partially correct, as he cut the blacksmith off in his haste to proclaim his consent, earning a smile from Kate that made him dizzy until the moment the man declared them wed. Unable to wait a moment longer, Anthony lunged forward and sealed his lips to Kate’s, ignoring the tittering and whispers around them as he sampled her mouth for the first time as her lawful husband.

Their wedding breakfast, too, passed by him in a blur, his only moments of clarity arrived when Kate looked at him across the table when she laughed with the guests at the inn who had joined the festivities, and when he finally took her by the hand and lead her away from the small crowd and to their bedchamber.

Giving up the fight for presence of mind, Anthony allowed himself to undress Kate reverently in the dream-like scape of their privacy, tumbling onto the bed with her and finally pushing into her body with a consuming desire that settled into a feeling of home he could not articulate. They took from each other, with hot hands and languid presses of lips, and whispered declarations of love.

When they finally broke from their desire for one another long enough for Kate to fall asleep, Anthony stared unseeingly at the ceiling again, feeling his stomach tense with worry.

He had never known a happiness like the one he had found with Kate, the bliss of their coupling, the certainty of their legally binding promises to each other and the steady puffs of breath from Kate’s nose against his chest. He could not remember his reasons for staying away from her, from running from the promise of the satisfaction he found in loving Kate.

Then it hit him like the anvil they had just married over. His early, inevitable, bride-crushing death. If he were lucky, he would have another eight or so years with Kate, just enough time for her to find comfort in the daily operations of their lives, for their children to feel secure in the love that protected them, only for his death to send them careening off a cliff of misery.

It was too late to undo what he had set in motion with Kate. He had foolishly chosen his temporary happiness over her long-term stability, and in so doing, had likely condemned them both to a course-correcting earlier death than he’d anticipated. As his chest constricted to the point of breathlessness, Anthony doubted he would be allowed another five years with Kate if he carried on as he was, blanketing them both in the deceptive shroud of affection and tenderness that would be brutally snatched away from Kate leaving her a shell of her former self. She had already grieved enough for one lifetime, he could not add to her misfortune.

No, he could not undo what he had already done, but perhaps he could alter his behaviour to ensure his happiness did not attract an even sooner death. He could not cut Kate off entirely, she would never allow him to continue their marriage with the cool detachment he had intended at the start of the season, nor could he imagine himself capable of such distance, but perhaps he could temper his affection.

Kate shifted in her sleep, the hand she had curled under her chin at his side reaching out to span across his chest, pulling herself closer into him. Anthony turned his head to bury his nose in her hair, the pressure in his chest releasing as he breathed her in deeply. As his breath steadied, he instantly saw his path forward. He would restrict himself to loving her only in their bedchambers, allowing himself an outlet to express the affection he felt persistently pushing him to proclaim he loved her only when they shared a bed and keep his distance during the day.

That ought to balance the scales of fate enough to allow him to live at least until thirty-eight, to give him time to prepare Kate and his children for his passing. Stomach swirling with nerves, Anthony took a steadying breath before turning to curl his body around Kate’s. Indeed, that was his only option, to love his wife just enough so she may live when he may not.