Archive of Our Own ^beta

This had to be a joke. A sick, cruel prank. Indeed, as she continued staring at the parcel before her, the letter that came with it nearly crumpled with how tightly she had been clutching it, Kate was convinced that there was some almighty being up in the heavens whose current amusement that week was putting her through as much emotional turmoil as possible. 

One moment, she was on the brink of giving into her feelings for the viscount, feelings she had been so vehemently denying, the next she was watching him propose to her sister. She then had to watch the man act as if nothing had happened, completely disregarding what his duchess of a sister nearly caught them doing, only for his parents’ betrothal ring to somehow end up on her finger. 

Then the blasted thing had the nerve to get stuck there, her mother, her sister, the viscount, the jeweler, the whole bloody world it seemed, watching in bemusement as she struggled to remove it. And when she finally did, it was to hear Lady Danbury deliver tidings of the Sheffields' return to London. No sooner was she reeling from that already unpleasant revelation was she also learning of the invitation that had been extended to the couple for only the next day. 

Her mother apparently was allowed some time to process this news, but Kate, of course, was not. Not for the first time since arriving in England, she had to resist stomping her feet in frustration when Lady Danbury refused to let her stay behind as well, ordering her around with that air of finality the old dowager seemed to have perfected. And Kate was only able to resist the urge because of her distraction with the arrival of a parcel.

A parcel for her, one she had obviously not been expecting. 

For a brief and blessed moment, Kate’s frustrations were driven from her mind. Filled with curiosity instead, she carefully inspected the items and after confirming that they were indeed addressed to her, she opened the accompanying letter first and began to read.

Now, the letter was not a particularly long one. It was more of a note, really. A few sentences, clearly written very quickly. And yet, they were enough to completely  shatter the already tenuous hold she had been stubbornly keeping over her emotions these last few days (if not the last few years.) 

Indeed, she had not even finished reading it when she was already fighting back tears. She kept blinking rapidly. Her breaths grew shorter, her feet unsteady beneath her. Such signs of weakness Kate generally would have never allowed anyone, not even her family let alone perfect strangers, to see. But even as she reached a trembling hand toward the package, she still fought to keep her emotions at bay. A fight that was ultimately lost the moment she confirmed what she had been suspecting was inside. 

Burying her face in her hands, Kate began to weep. 

She was distantly aware of a commotion going on around her. People shouting her name, voices full of worry, asking what was wrong. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, a pair of arms wrapping around her, but it was only when she heard an order given to a servant to take the delivery away that Kate whipped her head back up and snatched the box to her. 

Unwilling to look anyone in the eye in that moment, she more or less addressed the floor when she spoke. 

“May I please be excused? I find I am not feeling well.” 

When no one immediately answered her, Kate could only assume it was because they were all in a state of shock after witnessing such a display from her. She was about to repeat her request, working up the courage to look up this time to do it, but then a gentle, yet authoritative voice filled the air. 

“Go, Miss Sharma. Take all the time you need to recover.” 

Despite it not coming from someone who could really grant her this permission, Kate accepted it all the same. Clutching her new possession protectively to her chest, she turned and fled. 

As a man whose family was as passionate as they were loud, the 9th Viscount Bridgerton was no stranger to a tearful outburst. Several times in his life, he was privileged and cursed to have witnessed moments of true feeling. He had seen tears cried from grief as well as from joy. From frustration, anger, pain, and disappointment, too. Sometimes he attempted to soothe them away, more often he left that to someone else. 

Hardly ever, though, was he truly affected by them. In his experience, no matter the source or reason behind them, tears were merely a passing thing. They would eventually dry and the world would carry on none the wiser. 

And though the world had carried on, promenades and dinners and other such things continuing as planned, Anthony could not deny the effect the sight of Miss Sharma weeping had on him. Even now after several hours had passed. 

Now at first, he had assumed this unusual reaction of his was simply due to the unexpected nature of the event. Indeed, everyone else who had been present for it also appeared shocked when the seemingly indomitable woman suddenly hid her face in her hands and cried. Ever since he first laid eyes on her, Miss Sharma carried herself with an unwavering (and if he were truly honest, enviable) confidence. She stood tall, never betraying any weaknesses, flouting rules and defying expectations with a signature upward tilt of her chin. 

To then see her tremble and eventually give into tears, therefore, was disconcerting. Extremely disconcerting. And yet, even the way the lady succumbed to her emotions was unlike anything he had ever known. While his siblings’ emotions were loud, meant to be heard and witnessed by as many people as possible, Anthony would bet his entire estate that even then, Kate was doing her best to keep anyone from seeing hers. 

When Lady Mary and Miss Edwina’s entreaties went ignored, Anthony had found himself glaring at the object that seemed to have started this all. Fully aware that any attempts from him at consolation would neither be accepted nor tolerated, he thought he could provide at least some comfort by having the offending package removed. 

And not for the first time in his life, he chose exactly the wrong thing to do. 

For he had scarcely finished making the suggestion when Kate suddenly whipped her head up and snatched the package closer to her. Her eyes remained downcast when she asked to be excused, her voice the smallest he had ever heard it, and once again Anthony’s thoughts were thrown into disarray. 

Before he knew it, he was accepting excuses that were not his to accept and sending her off to the solitude he knew she was desperate for. Then he went on a promenade. A ridiculous, stupid promenade, which, beyond one or two very brief conversations, was entirely forgettable.

(“What is your sister's name?”

“Hmm?”

“I assumed Kate was short for Katherine. But I thought I saw earlier…”

“Oh no. Her name is Kathani. Kathani Sharma. She thought it would be easier for others to go by Kate, especially now that we’re in England.”

“She gave up her name to come here?”

A furrowed brow. 

“She wanted to.”

“Hmm.”

And that was that.)

After completing a perfunctory circuit around the park (all parties involved too distracted in their own thoughts to make it otherwise,) Anthony returned home and promptly disappeared into his study. He intended to get some work done, but by the time a footman arrived to summon him to dinner, he ended up accomplishing very little.  

On any other day, Anthony would not have thought twice about begging off the meal. It was to be a rather informal event anyway, a more relaxed affair before the official engagement dinner that was to take place the next evening. But seeing as the Sharmas were expected and he was very much interested in seeing them, (well, one of them) he informed the footman that he would be there shortly. 

Dashing off to change his jacket, Anthony arrived just in time to receive their invited guests. He did his best to temper his hopes of actually seeing Kate, (Kathani. Her name was Kathani.) fully expecting her to have found some way out of coming. He only hoped to inquire after her to her family members, which, in the end, proved unnecessary.  

For there she was. Looking rather striking in a midnight colored gown, not a hair out of place.  She stood tall, elegant, as self-assured as ever and giving no indication of what had transpired that afternoon. 

The lady also had the appearance of being hell bent on ignoring his existence. Indeed, each time he tried to approach her, Kate (rather deftly, to his begrudging respect and untold frustration) maneuvered herself away. A warm greeting to one family member, a kind inquiry over Latin lessons to another. Not for the first time in his life, Anthony lamented that he had so many siblings. 

Perhaps he would have been angry at this blatant attempt to avoid him (in his own home, no less) had he not understood why she was doing it. After all, Anthony doubted he would have behaved so gracefully after having such a vulnerable moment witnessed by so many. 

In fact, he knew he would not have. His reaction to a certain bee sting and subsequent denial of it made that clear. 

Unsurprisingly, he made for a poor conversationalist during that dinner, too lost as he was in his thoughts and growing madness the longer Kate refused to look at him. At some point Daphne actually kicked him under the table, jolting him out of his miserable musings. 

“My apologies,” he muttered when he noticed Miss Edwina (his fiancée, heaven help him) looking at him expectantly. “I was not attending.”

“That is alright, my lord. I understand a man in your position must have much to occupy his mind.”

Of course, the diamond would have such a response to his discourtesy. Of course, she would be nothing but gracious and sweet and perfectly agreeable. 

Anthony briefly contemplated stabbing himself with a fork.

“Yes, brother. You do, indeed, appear to have much on your mind. In truth, I have often wondered exactly what goes on in there. Or if anything does at all.”

Though the duchess’s words were ostensibly spoken in jest, Anthony could hear the bite in them all the same. He turned to glare at her which Daphne returned with a sickly sweet smile.

“If you must know, I was thinking about Father.” 

There was a brief moment of satisfaction as he watched that challenging glint in her eye disappear, but as most things were in his life of late, the victory was hollow. It was not like his sister did not have reason to scorn him so. 

“Oh?” 

Anthony began to pick at the food on his plate, suddenly reminded of why he did not like to speak on the subject. And yet, despite the heaviness that always plagued him whenever his father came up in conversation, he found it was not so unbearable now. In fact, there seemed to be some inexplicable thing inside him that was compelling him to continue speaking.

“I was thinking about something he said to me once. In fact, it was the last lesson he ever gave me…. He said that you cannot show someone your best without allowing them to see your worst.” A humorless smile pulled at his lips. “It is amusing, is it not? Or do you think it depressing? This game we all play at pretending to be stronger and braver than what we truly are.”

It was several moments before he noticed how quiet the room had gotten, and when he did, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment that his words had been heard by more than just his corner of the table. Though, in truth, he had been hoping for one particular person a few feet down that table to hear them and despite there being no sign of it, Anthony somehow knew she did. 

“Are there locusts in the street?” a sardonic voice then broke the silence. “Are there balls of fire raining down from the heavens? Should we be preparing our souls for surely it is the end times if Anthony Bridgerton is admitting to having a weakness.” 

And perhaps for the first time ever, Anthony was grateful for his second sister’s lack of tact. 

“I don’t know, Eloise. Perhaps the world has turned upside down and we might reap some reward from those finishing lessons I paid for.” 

The young lady proceeded to straighten her slouched posture before raising a glass at her eldest brother with a sarcastic smile. Anthony shot her an unimpressed look while the rest of the dinner party laughed at the exchange. To his relief, conversation resumed as before and, apart from a few concerned looks from his mother and closest sister, the remainder of the meal passed uneventfully. 

It was only as their guests were preparing to leave that Anthony accepted that Kate would not be speaking to him that evening. But then fortune seemed to shine favor on him when he happened across the lady standing alone near his front door. 

He quickly discovered, however, that for all the time he spent wishing for a chance to speak to her, he had not actually given much thought as to what he wanted to say. And, as was often the case when they were together, his words to her were not chosen well. 

For indeed, the icy look he received when he inquired if she was wearing the new dress he saw arrive for her that afternoon would have caused any reasonable man to stand down. But since Anthony and reason were at best distant acquaintances at this point, naturally, he pressed on. 

“The package you received earlier did not look unlike the boxes that arrive for my sisters with their new dresses… and I thought I saw-”

“It is not,” Kate snapped, cutting him off and Anthony, pathetic man that he was, simply rejoiced that she was at last acknowledging him. 

“Oh. Given your reaction to it, I thought you might be eager for… a chance… a chance to…” he trailed off, the almighty glower directed his way causing him to falter. But as he decided that reason might as well be a stranger to him from then on, he did not apologize and take his leave as he knew he should. Instead, he kept looking at her questioningly, even if he took an unconscious step backward.

“It would not have been appropriate for the occasion,” she finally snarled. Anthony opened his mouth to inquire further, but was cut off once again. “It is a wedding costume, sir. Hardly the proper attire for a dinner party at the house of one’s sister’s betrothed.”

Anthony’s mouth snapped shut at that, even as a thousand more questions wanted to escape it. Kate turned away, her voice a touch less hardened when she added, “It belonged to my mother.” 

Hearing noises coming from down the hall, Anthony knew he did not have time to be delicate to get the answers he craved. He did not know when or even if he would have another opportunity. 

“You did not bring it with you on your journey?”

“It was not practical for me to bring it.”

“But it is special to you?”

“Of course-”

“And you still sold it?” 

“How-?”

“I asked your sister earlier. She said she recognized the wrapping from one of the traders in your old home.”

“Who are you to-?”

“Why did you sell it? Why did you give up something so precious to you?” 

No answer. 

“Why do you keep denying yourself the things you want?”

Kate still refused to answer, face kept stubbornly turned away from him. But he could see the way she was trembling, the way she folded her arms tightly around herself. He was not sure if it was another attempt to keep her emotions in check or an attempt to keep herself from striking him. It was most likely both, but he was leaning toward the latter. 

He took a daring step closer to her anyway. 

“You are cracking, aren’t you? This impossible pressure you have placed on yourself. This strain of denying yourself everything… you are cracking under it.”

Though her answer was spoken in barely a whisper, Anthony flinched as if she had actually screamed it in his ear. 

“And if I am, whose fault is that?” 

Before he could even fathom a response, her mother and sister appeared and two seconds later they were all gone. 

As he watched the carriage pull away, it was not the first time the 9th Viscount Bridgerton absolutely hated himself. But perhaps it was the first time he was actually determined to change.

Of his admittedly rare virtues, though one might argue that he took this one to a fault, Anthony prided himself most on being a man of action. Once he made a decision, he always made sure to see it through in a timely manner. He was never one to avoid an unpleasant task, putting it off until it could be put off no longer. If there was something that needed to be done, he liked to do it as soon as possible and not let it hang over his head unnecessarily.

Thus was it a bit of a trial for him to wait until the next day, for an appropriate calling hour before going about the latest task he had set for himself. And yet, when he found himself on the precipice of actually doing the thing, standing before his intended as her eyes shined with such excitement, such innocence, Anthony almost wished he had not been so impatient.

It was hardly a good feeling knowing he was about to break a girl’s heart. 

“Miss Edwina, I apologize for showing up here unannounced.”

“Oh, that is hardly necessary, my lord. We are to be wed soon! I think you are afforded some allowances for wishing to see me.” 

Anthony extended an arm to lead her to a chair in the Danbury sitting room, hoping she did not see the way her coy words had caused him to grimace. Once they were seated, it was not lost on him that this was the first time they were left unchaperoned. Of course, the doors were left open and there was a more than respectable distance between them, but it appeared that an engagement did offer some allowances. 

He grimaced even more at the thought. 

“Again, I apologize for disturbing your morning. Only I wished to speak to you before tonight’s… event. There is a matter I believe is important for us to discuss.” 

He saw her brows pinch a little, but she continued smiling at him sweetly. It seemed to be a default state for her, though he doubted it would be lasting much longer. 

Briefly dropping his gaze down to the ring he had been spinning around his finger, Anthony drew in a deep breath before addressing his fiancée once more. 

“I am given to understand that the union between your parents was a love match. And I have also been told that such a union is what you have always desired for yourself.” 

“Indeed, it is, my lord. My parents shared a deep, rich love and long have I wished for something similar in my own marriage.”

She looked at him hopefully then, as if expecting a speech the exact opposite to the one she was about to hear. Anthony sighed. He had hoped (rather foolishly, he now realized) to avoid this. 

He thought he had been clear about his expectations from the start. Blunt even. He even mentioned that he expected to often be away from his wife and family after he married. His parents never spent more than a night apart, in his recollection. Surely she should have known….

But perhaps he was not the only one to be rather singular-minded, to be blind to things beyond what one wished to see. 

For a few moments, he could only look at her apologetically. And the longer the silence stretched between them, the more Miss Edwina seemed to become aware of the true nature of this conversation. Soon enough and just as he expected, her smile fell away. 

“I can offer you a home,” he eventually stated, his tone measured. “I can offer you protection, a lifetime of security for yourself and for your family... But what I cannot offer you is love.”

“You… You truly do not love me?” she questioned, eyes not looking at him, but darting back and forth, as if searching for where she went wrong. 

Anthony sighed again. 

“No, Miss Edwina. I do not.” He watched her face crumple and had to push through the guilt to continue. “The truth is, I was intent on pursuing the diamond since the beginning of the season, before she was named and, in all likelihood, regardless of who she turned out to be.” 

And there it was. The unvarnished truth and in response the disgust, the disappointment and anger he was quite used to seeing directed at him. In fact, it was almost a relief to see Edwina glaring at him. It was far more familiar to him than the the sweet, admiring smiles she used to throw his way.

“So you mean to say that you pursued me, proposed to me all while knowing you would never actually love me?” 

“I came into this season with no desire of finding a love match,” he explained. “I had made no secret of it and given your sister’s objections to me, I had assumed you were aware and prepared for such a marriage… But I suppose I cannot fault a young, impressionable lady for finding more to give credit in a man’s words than what he deserved.”

Silence fell over the pair once more, a faroff look coming over the young woman as she no doubt relived their previous interactions. 

“Though I concede that I have often failed at it,” he went on after a few moments. “In fact, I know I have failed at it quite often, but I do try to be a man of honor. If you still wish to carry on with this engagement, we shall. I simply wanted you to be aware, to know under no uncertain terms, that if a marriage like that of your parents is what you seek, then you will not find it with me.” 

Edwina straightened in her seat, her gaze remaining sharp upon him.

“Of course, I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. I cannot so betray myself in doing so. But before the connection between us is severed forever, I want to know why. In fact, I deserve to know why. Why did you do this? Why go through all this trouble?”

“I am the first born son of a first born son nine times over,” he shrugged. “It is my duty-”

“I meant, why go through all this trouble to avoid love?”

Anthony blinked. Had it been anyone else, he would have simply refused to answer and left. But she was right. She did deserve answers. 

There was another woman who also deserved an explanation from him. He could only hope that someday he could give one to her. 

His father’s ring spinning faster round his finger, he began. 

“My parents, too, were a love match and for a long time, I imagined I would settle for no less a match for myself. In fact, I used to dream of it when I was younger, imagining the lady who would make me as happy as my mother and father made each other. But then suddenly my father was dead and my mother was… well, she was inconsolable in her grief. Ever since that fateful day, there has been a hole in our family, a void that has never quite healed, even now a whole decade later. To me, love was to blame. I began to view it as only a source of eventual heartbreak and pain. After all, if my mother did not love my father so much, she would not have been so destroyed after his death.”

“From then on, I vowed that marriage would be nothing more than a duty to fulfill. I told myself that it was only out of kindness to my future wife, that I was sparing her the unnecessary difficulty I was convinced she would endure were there to be love between us… Of course, it is only now that I am realizing how stupid this scheme of mine was.”

“Yes, it is incredibly stupid.” 

He looked at her, surprised, not thinking she was actually capable of anything but polished words and gracious smiles. But, of course, he knew he deserved far worse. 

“I am sorry. Truly, I am.”

She studied him then before surprising him yet again.

“I cannot say that I can forgive you quite yet, my lord. But I suppose I have to thank you for your… frankness. It seems that I have been imagining things that… were not there. I am only glad I was made aware of my foolishness before things progressed any further.” 

She then slipped off the ring that had been on her own finger before rising to her feet. Anthony quickly followed suit. 

“It never quite fit me anyway,” she noted as she handed it back to him. He stared at the tiny thing in his hand for a few moments, an overwhelming sense of relief coming over him to have it back in his possession.

He chanced a look at his former fiancée and immediately felt awful. The change in her demeanor from before he arrived was stark. 

“I realize that I am in no position to ask you for anything, Miss Edwina. But I must ask you, beg you really: Do not allow this experience to disillusion you against the rest of my sex. Excepting present company, please be assured that there are real, true gentlemen in the world. Ones who are more gallant and far less idiotic than I. I only hope that what I have done does not cause you to close yourself off from them or the chance at finding the true love and companionship you deserve.”

Beyond a curt nod, he received no other acknowledgement and then she was gone. It was still a far kinder reaction than he expected or deserved. Pocketing the betrothal ring, he let out a deep breath before striding from the room himself. 

And if the air just outside the doorway smelled of lilies, he simply berated himself for imagining things.

It was incredible how much could change in just a few weeks. Almost unbelievable. Not even a month ago, Kate woke each morning full of nausea and dread, overwhelmed with anxiety as everyone she cared about continued on a path she knew would not end well. But she was outnumbered and alone, her concerns continually brushed aside, she herself brushed aside when the viscount walked right past her and made her watch that abominable proposal. 

Kate’s emotions had been a jumbled mess after that. She was livid. She was confused. She felt manipulated, betrayed, completely blindsided. But more than all these, she felt guilty. Guilty that she felt anything other than unbridled joy for her sister’s obvious happiness. Naturally, she did her best to stamp down those unwanted emotions and thought she did so with some mildly good success. 

And then that package arrived. 

It had broken her heart having to sell her amma’s wedding outfit. It was all that was left of her meager dowry, but she could not justify keeping it, let alone bringing it on such a long journey. Money was already tight and besides, it was not like she expected the men in England to be fighting over themselves to marry her. Her sister was the one everyone preferred. 

She had learned that a long time ago. 

Mr. Patel had been very hesitant when she arrived at his shop the day before she was to depart halfway across the world. He was a sweet, elderly man and the closest thing Kate had to a grandfather. He knew her parents well and had watched her grow up since the day she was born.

It had taken a lot of convincing to get him to agree to the transaction, which he only did after naming a price that was far more than what the dress was worth. She was well aware that its value was more sentimental than monetary as it was well over two decades old and long out of fashion. But the old man would not budge, calling her bluff when she said she would just leave the thing in the street if he didn't name a more reasonable offer.

And then he went and gave the dress back to her anyway. Given the timing, he must have sent it along on the next ship, its arrival and his note perfectly timed to tip her over the proverbial edge she had found herself treading. 

Kate allotted herself one hour after reading Mr. Patel’s note to step over that edge. To stomp her feet, to tear at her hair, to scream into a pillow and throw things across the room before ultimately flinging herself on her bed and sobbing. 

But one hour was all she could allow. After it expired, she dried her tears and set about tidying up the mess she had made. She retrieved the pillows she had thrown, straightened the blankets on the bed, and carefully hung up her mother’s dress in the wardrobe. The note, she folded up and placed inside the drawer of her bedside table. 

Nodding in satisfaction at her work, she then strode over to her door, but hesitated before actually opening it. Indeed, her hand remained limp on the knob for several moments as she worked on schooling her emotions again, stubbornly climbing back up the edge she had indulged stepping off of moments ago. It was only when she was able to muster a passable smile that she exited the room in search of her family members. She needed to reassure them that all was well. 

After all, she was too far gone on this path to heed Mr. Patel’s plea now. 

Mama and Edwina were easy enough to assuage and convince that her earlier display was merely a passing thing, a moment of emotion borne out of sheer surprise at the unexpected gesture and nothing else. Certainly not the despair that threatened to consume her. Certainly not that. 

There was another, however, who had not been so fooled. 

Now Kate would have liked nothing more than to skip that evening’s dinner at Bridgerton House. They were all to see each other the next day anyway and it was not like it was the official engagement dinner. Surely, sitting out one meal would not signify. 

In the end, however, Kate’s pride won out. She hated that people had seen her so weak. That he had seen her so weak. She needed to prove that she was alright. That she was more than alright. She was a strong, self-willed woman, and not so feebly minded as to be afraid of a dinner party and everyone needed to see that. 

Of course, she should have known that he would not believe any of it. Lord Bridgerton kept trying to get her attention throughout the evening, attempts which went stubbornly ignored, of course. But that did not deter him from sending pointed looks her way all through dinner, along with veiled messages about pretending to be strong and brave while he conversed with their sisters. Not for the first time since meeting him, she was astounded and vexed at his audacity.

But perhaps what was more astounding and vexing was just well he was able to see right through her. 

Cracking. That is what he said she was. She was cracking. And oh, she could not have described it better herself. Kate felt like she was splintering on the inside, her heart and her duty pulling her in completely different directions. It was only a matter of time before she could no longer hold herself together and soon bits and pieces of her would be seen fluttering in the wind above the streets of London. 

And then, all of a sudden, the cracking stopped. Lord Bridgerton paid a visit to her sister and the engagement abruptly ended. The pressure in Kate's chest lessened. 

Edwina, to her immense relief, did not appear too heartbroken about this turn of events. Her manner was more staid afterward, of course, but not in a melancholy way. She just seemed to have been made more contemplative than anything else.

The pressure lessened even more. 

The next hurdle was how the queen would take having the match she believed to have orchestrated blown to pieces. Which in the end, turned out to not be a hurdle at all. In fact, one might think it was her idea given how excited she was to introduce her diamond to her nephew. 

Before she knew it, her baby sister was being courted by a prince and well on her way to becoming a princess herself. The girl's bright smiles and giddy laughter slowly returned and this time Kate was able to share in them unreservedly. There had been a brief period when the tightness in her chest returned. It was after she finally confessed the deal she had made with the Sheffields. But after a long overdue and heartfelt conversation with her family, the pressure all but disappeared to the point where, for the first time in years, she felt like she could breathe freely. 

It seemed that it was indeed true that she could not truly share the best of her without first allowing others to see the worst. 

With each passing day, Kate kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the queen to change her mind. For Prince Friedrich to realize he was bothered by Edwina’s lack of dowry. For Edwina to grow resentful of her again for how she handled things. Anything that might derail their family's current and unprecedented good fortune. 

But so far, nothing came of it. 

Kate had also spent each passing day with thoughts straying to a certain viscount. Wondering how he was faring, but more importantly what possessed him to suddenly end the engagement he had once been so fixated upon. 

But once again, nothing came of it. 

Indeed, ever since she watched him leave Danbury House from an upstairs window the morning he and Edwina agreed to end things, Kate had seen neither hide nor tail of Lord Bridgerton or his family. She could not say that she was surprised that they chose to lay low for a while, especially after it became clear that Lady Whistledown thought the blame for the failed union fell entirely on the viscount. While Kate was extremely relieved that her own family’s reputation was spared any consequence, it pained her to see the Bridgertons suffer in any way. 

But the greater pain (which she would never admit to) was the longer she went without seeing him. 

There was a small part of her, a foolish part she now realized, that thought perhaps Lord Bridgerton’s sudden change of heart had something to do with her. But, of course, that was impossible. She was a brash, prickly spinster, too tall and too headstrong to sway such a man. She was the daughter of a secretary and a local village girl with nary a penny to her name. Hardly the “impeccable quality” she knew from the beginning won his favor. 

It was better this way, she tried to reason with herself. He vexed her too much and so with him gone, she could pass the rest of the season in peace before departing this wretched place herself. It was an unexpectedly clean break given the volatility of their… connection. Truly, she could not have asked for a better or easier end to their story.  

And yet…

And yet. 

The day Edwina became engaged for the second time was marked with great joy and celebration. It also marked three weeks since Kate had seen the last man who had proposed to her sister, but she tried not to think about that. Instead, she embraced the beaming girl and congratulated her for the dozenth time before throwing herself into planning the wedding, which this time, was truly to be a royal affair. 

But somehow, even in his absence, Anthony Bridgerton found a way to throw her world off axis once again. 

The occasion arose at a luncheon hosted by the palace as she was standing with the ever ornately dressed hostess, looking on at the happy couple as they received a line of well-wishers. It was then when Kate learned a startling piece of information from Her Majesty herself.  

“A beautiful match, are they not? And an intriguing story behind them to boot. I mean, how often does a groom who was thrown over go out of his way to choose his replacement?”

Seeming to delight in the obvious shock this revelation inspired in her companion, the monarch leaned closer to tell her more. 

“Yes, it is true. While I still give myself the bulk of the credit for actually bringing everything to a point, it was Viscount Bridgerton who initially proposed the idea. It was during that audience he sought with me to report on his broken engagement. A delicious piece of gossip, is it not? One a certain scribbler has yet to catch wind of.” 

While the queen laughed to herself over her little victory, Kate felt as lost and confused as ever. It seemed that each time she believed she had the sense of Lord Bridgerton, she learned something new that turned it all upside down. 

She thought he was a pompous, insufferable pig whose poor future wife would surely be a miserable creature, then she met the loving, affectionate family he raised. 

She thought his disdain for love was borne out of selfishness and pride, and then she learned of the sad story that built the walls around his heart so high. 

She thought he would always put his family first above all else. She thought that perhaps he realized that their entanglement could eventually endanger his family’s reputation, maybe even his sisters’ future prospects and for that reason decided to cut all ties between them. To leave the Sharmas to their own fate so that his family might have a better one.

But now she was learning that not only was he the one to smooth things over with the queen, but he had also secretly paved the way for a better match for Edwina. All while his family bore the brunt of the fallout from their failed engagement. 

Kate could not understand it. Could not understand him and it frustrated her beyond measure how much she wished she could. 

Indeed she spent the rest of that day, a worrisome majority of the night, and most of the next morning entirely consumed with thoughts of strange viscounts and their strange behavior. 

She was almost completely unaware of the journey to the art exhibition they were attending that afternoon and was so distracted, she had not realized someone had joined her by one of the sculptures in the gallery until he spoke. 

“I have always marveled at how someone could create something so lifelike out of something so cold and unfeeling. But, I confess, the greater marvel for me has always been the patience it must take to get the stone so smooth.”

Kate whirled around with a gasp. 

“Mr. Bridgerton!” 

“Hello, Miss Sharma,” the second Bridgerton son greeted with a bow. 

“It is good to see you,” she responded, her smile genuine as she dipped down with a curtsy of her own. “It has been a while.”

“Yes. It seems our family has decided to take a more… subdued approach to the rest of season. Something about not wishing to give our bon ton opportunity to find more that is… what was it? ‘Deficient and unwanting’?… about our family.”

Kate nodded sympathetically, recalling the words Lady Whistledown used in her report. 

“Are you here alone?” she inquired, looking around for other familiar faces. 

“Mother is here, no doubt working zealously to salvage the Bridgerton reputation. Eloise was recruited for the task as well, though it is up in the air whether she would be more help or hindrance. Do not tell her, but my money is on the latter.” 

Kate let out a small laugh before hesitating. 

“And the viscount?” she finally asked, turning back to the sculpture. 

“Ah… Anthony’s location is a bit harder to account for.”

Noting her confused look, Benedict went on to explain. 

“He seems to be here, there, and everywhere these days. I often see him working past midnight in his study at Aubrey Hall and yet he seems to always be back in London before dawn each and every day without fail. Another great marvel of this world, I reckon. Just where my older brother finds the time.”

Kate stared thoughtfully at the pair of stone lovers again, forever locked in an intimate embrace. 

“Was he-?” she began. “Was the viscount always…”

“- a self-righteous prig with a stick up his arse?” 

Kate thought it wise not to respond to that. 

“No,” Benedict answered anyway. “No, he wasn’t… Our younger brothers and sisters may not remember, but I do.”

A distant look came over him then and Kate watched him curiously. It was the most somber she had ever seen the man. 

“Did you know? Whenever our father was dealing with a dispute among the tenants, he would often bring Anthony along with him when he went to address the situation. Would even pull him from lessons to do it. Anthony thought it was to teach him how to handle these types of matters when he was viscount someday. I thought it was because Father believed the tenants would be less quarrelsome if a child were present. But one day, Father told me the truth. He said he brought Anthony with him because he was uniquely gifted at getting people to laugh.”

Kate could only stare in disbelief. 

“Hard to believe, I know,” Benedict conceded with a wry look, “given the ray of sunshine he is now. But upon my soul, it is true… He seemed to always know what to say, what joke to tell or prank to pull to get a person in even the foulest of moods to smile. Once he could not sit down for an entire week after he discovered how much it made baby Eloise laugh to see him fall down on his bottom. She was ill at the time and it was the only thing that kept her from crying.” 

She tried to imagine it. A young Anthony Bridgerton, pulling pranks and telling jokes, going out of his way to make others happy, himself unburdened by grief or duty. She thought she would have a harder time picturing it, but she didn’t. She remembered the morning they met, a tumble they shared in the mud, younger siblings stealing from his plate at tea. Perhaps she had seen glimpses of that boy without knowing it. 

“He used to smile more himself, once. Used to laugh a lot more, too,” his brother continued. “But it has been a while. A long while. In fact, I had almost forgotten what his laughter sounded like... That was until I happened to wander into the woods during a rather spirited game of pall mall the other week.”

Kate’s eyes widened, her body turning ice cold. It was several moments before she had the courage to look to her side again, but only saw Benedict smiling kindly at her when she did. 

“While I cannot deny having been quite relieved when I first learned that Anthony decided to call off his engagement, I was genuinely disappointed that the connection between our two families could be lost forever... I sincerely hope that it won’t be.”

With that, the gentleman bid her a good day, leaving Kate as silent and frozen as the pair of stone lovers next to her. 

It had been a while since she had gone riding at that park. Three weeks and two days, to be exact. That was not to say that Kate had not gone riding at all, she just chose to lead her horse to other places when she ventured out and about before dawn. 

But on the morning after the art exhibition, Kate found herself guiding Nectar in the direction she had chosen on her first day in this country, toward that small expanse of woods where her destiny seemed to have been forever changed. Soon enough, she was gaining speed along one of the paths there, exhilaration coursing through her veins as she flew across the open space. 

While she tried to remain focused on the moment, how lovely the sun’s rays looked through the misty trees, how refreshing the wind felt on her face, the rippling power of the animal beneath her, she was also keeping her eyes and ears peeled for other things. Other hoofbeats. Blurry outlines of unnecessarily concerned gentlemen in the fog, chasing after her. 

She urged Nectar faster when she found only disappointment chasing her instead. 

A vaguely familiar hedge appeared ahead, but rather than slowing down or maneuvering around it, Kate repeatedly tapped the horse’s flanks with her leg, leaning forward to speak encouragingly to him and then she was soaring through the air. 

A thrill went up her body when she landed and for a moment, the sensation of being airborne lingered. She whipped her hood back, a joyous smile on her face as she pulled the horse to a stop and looked behind her. Her face fell when she only saw a copse of trees and an empty field. No petulant viscounts griping about ample headstarts and the lack of established finish lines in sight. 

Kate shook her head, chastising herself for getting so lost in such fanciful thoughts. Leaning forward again, she gave Nectar a few appreciative pats before sighing. 

It was strange. She used to adore riding because it was something that was her own. Something she got to keep just for herself. Atop her horse, she was not beholden to anyone. It was just her and the great wide world and any direction she wanted in it. 

Now, though, Kate found herself wishing that she was not quite so alone in that wide world. That there was someone else with whom she could share that moment, someone whose direction she could choose to guide her feet or her steed toward for no other reason besides her simply wanting to. 

She let out another sigh before tightening her grip on the reins again. That was enough fanciful thinking for one morning.

But just as she was about to click her tongue to urge Nectar onward again, however, a sound reached her ears that kept her in place. A neigh that most definitely did not come from the animal beneath her. 

Whipping her head to her left, she spied a horse tied up in one of the trees, its owner sitting on the ground against the trunk, blinking up at her in shock. 

Time was immeasurable as the two continued to stare at each other, as if they were both trying to determine whether the other was a figment of their respective imagination or not. It was the viscount who seemed to grasp the reality of the situation first. 

“Miss Sharma!” he greeted once he did, scrambling to his feet. He quickly snatched his jacket that had been hanging on one of the tree branches and put it on, adjusting the collar and dusting off the sleeves, all while his eyes never left hers. Like he feared she would disappear were he to look away from her for even a second. 

“Lord Bridgerton." She deliberated for a few more moments before hopping down and leading Nectar closer to the unexpected party they had come across.  

“I see you have returned here for your morning rides,” she heard him say while she worked on securing the beast to a nearby tree. “It has been some time.”

“Yes, it.. has.” Her brows furrowed as she slowly turned toward him once more. How could he have known how long it had been since the last time she had been there?

Unless…

“Are you in good health? Your family?”

“Yes, we all are,” she answered, still a little distracted. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I understand that congratulations are in order for your sister’s engagement. Prince Friedrich is a fine fellow and Miss Edwina, of course, a lovely lady. I wish them every happiness.” 

Kate eyed him closely then, searching for any artifice in his well-wishes for his former intended, for any indication of anger or bitterness about the situation. 

She found none and was not quite sure what her feelings were on that. 

“Thank you, my lord,” she said again, hesitating slightly. “It seems there is much to thank you for.”

At his obvious confusion, she went on to elaborate. 

“The queen recently shared with me the real reason why she had invited His Royal Highness for a visit. I think it is safe to say that my sister might not be on the verge of becoming a princess right now were it not for your suggestion.”

It was almost comical how vehemently the viscount began to shake his head. 

“I can assure you, I did nothing that deserves anyone’s thanks. I am no matchmaker, of course. Though they did seem to me to be well-suited. And I always felt a little indebted to the prince after- and, obviously, your sister, I felt- But at any rate, that does not matter. It is not you who should be thanking me, but I who should be apologizing to you. Apologizing for.. well, for everything really.” 

His gaze briefly dropped down to the ground, his weight starting to shift back and forth. She heard him take in a sharp breath and then he was looking at her again, a determined look in his eyes.

“I apologize, Miss Sharma. For what I said on that terrace. For the business I had contrived with Mr. Dorset. For the liberties I had taken with you and for then denying having taken said liberties. For proposing to your sister and for all the other sources of strife I have caused you since our meeting. For my woefully deficient character and breathtaking idiocy… For all of it. There is no excuse and I am sorry.”

Kate could only blink at him after such a longwinded speech. There was something odd about it. Almost rehearsed. Like he had been practicing the words over and over again to himself so he would not forget any. But that could not be true. Why would a gentleman of his stature be practicing speeches for her? 

“I-I don’t…  Why?”

“Miss Sharma, if you are looking for a logical reason behind my actions, I fear you will not be satisfied. I suppose all I have to say for myself is that I am, unfortunately, a very stupid man.”

Her lips twitched at that. A memory stirred, another conversation regarding this man’s traits. Something about being gifted at knowing how to get a person in even the foulest moods to smile or laugh. 

“I meant,” she continued, forcing herself to remain focused on the task at hand. “What caused this change of heart? You were so adamant about marrying my sister, despite my every objection, might I add, and then suddenly you are ending the engagement and all but throwing her into the arms of a prince. Then you and your entire family disappear, allowing rumors to harden that you had done something wrong.”

“But I did-”

“You know what I mean. You could have just ended the engagement and left it at that. You could have told everyone it was a mutual decision because it was. You didn’t have to explain things to the queen or help Edwina find another match or really care what happened to us at all.”

Before she knew it, Kate was pacing back and forth. 

“Long have I been trying to make sense of any of it. To find the reason behind your actions, but it is impossible.”

“You truly do not know?”

She stopped midstep to glare at him.  

“Does it look like I know? It is not my fault you are the most vexing, frustrating- Ugh, goodbye, my lord!” she spat when she saw him appear to be holding back laughter. 

Stomping back toward her horse, she was about to reach for Nectar’s reins again to untie them when a voice halted her in place. 

“I did it for you.”

Kate stubbornly refused to turn around for all of five seconds before she relented, her gaze falling on a rather chagrined looking viscount when she did. 

“Forgive me for laughing. Only I thought I had been… well apparently not.”

Annoyance flared through her once again. 

“If you are making fun of me, sir, or questioning by intel-”

“No! That is not- I assure you-.” A calming breath. “Miss Sharma, trust that any ridicule you perceive in me is directed toward myself and myself alone… It seems that I am the only person in the world who could make such a convoluted mess of a practice that has existed since the dawn of time. I am not the first man to admire a woman and yet I still managed to muck it all up somehow.”

A strange phenomenon began to take place inside Kate's head then, in which it felt like it was simultaneously swirling with a million thoughts and somehow completely empty at the same time. She could only stare at Lord Bridgerton dumbly as he took a few cautious steps closer to her, looking at her with those ridiculously earnest eyes of his. 

“I did not like to see you so burdened and simply wished to provide what relief I could. Besides, much of what burdened you was likely my fault anyway. I’m sure even my presence alone was taxing.”

“And this is why you had made yourself scarce these last few weeks,” she ventured.

He nodded.

“But you still came to this park every morning.”

“How did-?”

“Your brother told me. No matter what, or where you are, or how late you are working the previous night, he said you are always back in London before dawn.”

This seemed to make him embarrassed all over again. 

“I suppose I did not want to force my company upon you out in society, where you might feel obliged to accept it when you would rather not. And it was easier for me to stay away if I kept myself distracted with work. But I thought if… if you returned here, then that meant…”

He trailed off, his cheeks reddened. Kate’s brows furrowed at the sight. For all the answers she was getting, for all the pieces that were falling into place, she had yet to make out the picture. 

“But that cannot be right. I am… I am nobody. You should not be-”

An angry voice cut her off then, all traces of any prior embarrassment or attempts at delicacy decidedly gone. 

“You are not nobody and were never nobody and were certainly never nobody to me.” 

Now, she had seen him upset before. In fact, Kate didn't think she had ever seen the man not in some state of grievance. But the fire in his eyes then, the indignation radiating from him, even if it was the result of words she had spoken about herself, nearly took her breath away. The heavens help her if she could not help noting how beautiful he looked in that moment. 

Apparently mistaking her reaction as alarm, he seemed to try softening his tone and his temper, though both were still quite intense when he spoke again. 

“At one time you were the bane of my existence. For a while now, you have been the object of all my desires. And I believe it was since the first time I had seen you clear those hedges over there that you were the woman I loved most in the world.”

“That is the crux of it. The reason behind everything. The answer you found so elusive: I love you. I chased after you that morning because I love you. I kept antagonizing you because I love you. And yes, I proposed to your sister because I love you. I know that is the most ridiculous thing in the world, but it is the truth. I had spent so long being terrified of love, the instant I realized that is what I felt for you, I ran the opposite direction… Everything I did afterward, everything I have ever done since the day we met, I did because I love you.”

“You do not have to accept it. You do not have to embrace it or even allow it. In truth, I already know you should not, given how poorly I have treated you. But you must know it, in your heart. You must know it, because I do…  I love you.”

Then for the second time in this man’s presence, Kate buried her face in her hands and began to weep. 

“Oh God, please do not cry! This is exactly what started - Here. Just allow me to give you this handkerchief and I swear, you’ll never see me again. Our paths need never cross. It will be… It will be as if we never met.”

She snapped her head up again at that, seeing him holding the piece of cloth to her, a pained, but resolute look on his face. 

She reached a hand forward, but instead of taking the proffered handkerchief, she grasped his arm just above where he had been holding it. 

“Don’t you dare leave me again.” 

And then she was launching herself at him. Now there was a brief and rather terrifying moment when Kate thought she miscalculated things. Anthony did not immediately respond to her kiss, but before she could pull back and run away (and likely not stop running until she reached a dock where she could beg for passage to the furthest reaches of the Earth she could access), he was pulling her closer and oh, she was flying again. And this time, she was sure she was never coming down. 

When they pulled apart again, they were both out of breath. Kate chanced a look at him and could not help the smugness that came over her at the dazed look on his face. Smiling freely, though her eyes were still wet, she cupped the sides of his cheeks and finally spoke aloud what she had kept hidden for so long. 

“I love you, too.” 

He seemed taken aback at that. Rather adorably, too. Heavens, was she in trouble. 

“I- you do?”

“Are you surprised, my lord?” she asked, teasing. 

“I guess I did not think that was an option.”

Her smile dimmed a little then. How this man could not see how easy it was to love him was beyond her. Reaching up, she delicately traced along the dark circles beneath his eyes with her finger. 

“You have been cracking, too, haven’t you? For a while now, I imagine.”

“Darling, I think you already know that I’ve cracked a long time ago.” 

Not quite laughing at the self-deprecating joke, she stared at him sternly, bringing a hand to the back of his head and gently toying with his curls. 

“Cracked, maybe, but not broken.”

He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, other than pressing another kiss to her lips.  

Later, they were sitting on the ground against a tree, her back leaning into him, his arms surrounding her as he spoke sweetly into her ear. Promises of humbling himself. Of lives that suited them both. Of futures filled with vexing each other and loving each other. And because they both were pragmatic people, they also came up with an actual plan to bring that future about. He was to call on her later that morning, court her properly for one week (which would apparently involve many dances, flowers, and other tokens of his love which she tried to say she did not need, but he was insistent upon giving her anyway,) and after a customary two-week engagement, they would be wed before the month was out. 

When the sun had risen to a point where she could put off her return home no longer, Kate struggled to tear herself away from Anthony’s embrace. From his burning gazes and hungry kisses. She actually had to order him to stand a few feet away so she could focus on getting Nectar untied from the tree, which to his credit, he obeyed. 

Though, of course, the man always had a way of affecting her, no matter the distance between them. 

“There was one other thing I have been meaning to speak to you about.”

Kate let out a sigh, but was not too exasperated when she turned around slightly toward her intended. (Her intended! She doubted she would ever get used to that.)

“It is nothing important really. Should not take too much of your time… only… I had wondered about that trader who sent you back your mother’s wedding dress.”

“Mr. Patel?” 

“Right… Mr. Patel,” he repeated the name in a strange tone. “I just wondered exactly what your relationship was to him. Not that it matters, of course! You are allowed to have friends or, erm…  companions in your past. You know that I… Well, you know my history. But we don’t have to talk about that. Unless you wanted to, then we could. You could ask me anything. Or you don’t have to… Or you could just ignore me and go about your day and hopefully still wish to marry me at the end of it.” 

She tried to fight a grin at his rambling, but failed. 

“Do not tell me you are jealous of a man you have never met. And who lives halfway across the world, no less!”

“You did seem most affected by his letter, so I thought perhaps…”

Abandoning her task altogether, she began walking toward Anthony again, eyeing him deviously as she went. 

“Mr. Patel has been in my life since I was born. His sending Amma’s dress back to me was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me and so, yes, he will always have a special place in my heart. I have long thought him a very kind and handsome gentleman. And… he is about 80 years old.”

“Oh, he’s- Oh!”

Her laughter rang out among the trees as she threw her arms around his neck, her expression turning serious, though, when they locked eyes once more. 

“While there were other men for whom I might have once felt some sort of affection, the only man I have ever truly loved is you. Are you satisfied now, my lord?”

“Yes. Quite… Sorry,” he stammered, sheepish, before quickly adding, “and you are the only woman I have ever truly loved, too.”

“Good. I am satisfied as well. Now, I really must go, otherwise Lady Danbury might bar me from her stables and we won’t be able to see each other like this again.”

Despite that unhappy prospect, however, it was nearly ten more minutes until the lovers could untangle themselves long enough for Kate to mount her horse and ride away. And even when she did, it took everything in her not to turn around again and jump back into Anthony’s arms. But she managed to resist the urge and only because she knew she would be seeing him again soon. 

As she raced back to Danbury House, her thoughts seemed to be everywhere all at once. She was thinking of what needed to be done when she arrived. The dress she planned to change into. What she needed to tell her maid about the stains on the one she was wearing. How she was going to explain everything to her family before Anthony showed up at the door. 

She was also reliving all that had just happened that morning. The promises Anthony spoke to her. The love in his eyes as he made them. The thrill that went through her each time his lips were on hers. Several times did she have to dodge an obstacle at the last minute with how distracted she was in her recollection. 

And yet, Kate found her thoughts straying to still other things. To her parents. To the plans she used to have for her future. To her old home in India and a letter she had received from there a few weeks ago now. The words came to mind just as Mayfair came into view in the distance. 

I hope you will not deny yourself so much in the future, child. You deserve to be put first, too. Find happiness. Find peace. Find what and who you love and never let them go. 

And for the first time since reading them (and perhaps also for the first time in her life,) she planned to do exactly that.