A Proper Amount of Affection

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/45665809.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV)
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton
& Benedict Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton & Daphne Bridgerton, Kate
Sheffield | Kate Sharma & Mary Sheffield | Mary Sharma, Edwina
Sheffield | Edwina Sharma & Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma
Characters: Anthony Bridgerton, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Lady Danbury
(Bridgerton), Violet Bridgerton, Edwina Sheffield | Edwina Sharma,
Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Simon Basset, Colin
Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton,
Thomas Dorset
Additional Tags: Romantic Fluff, Family Fluff, Light Angst, Mostly Fluff, No
miscommunication just natural progression of a romance, No Beta,
Alternate Universe - Regency, Canon Divergent, Falling In Love, One-
shot that is entirely too long
Language: English
Collections: you are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires
Stats: Published: 2023-03-11 Words: 16,367 Chapters: 1/1
 A Proper Amount of Affection
by utterlycliche

Summary

He lowered his voice. “You are the most capable and intelligent person I have yet to meet.
You make all of us look like fools.”

Her mouth opened in surprise before she quickly hid her feelings again. “Even you, my
lord?”

She was smiling, clearly expecting an argument, but Anthony did not want her to think he
took this lightly. He needed to correct her thinking. She needed to know that his initial
promises were changing. Even if she did not reciprocate, he valued their honest rapport.

“You have made me the biggest fool, I think. For I thought I could pursue this courtship
without any affection or strong feelings. Yet, it is impossible for me to feel nothing when I
am with you.”

************

Anthony decides that Kate is the only woman fit to be Viscountess Bridgerton and catches
feelings along the way. Fortunately, so does Kate.

Notes

My take on these two just being fools in love

“I know that gentleman.”

“The Viscount? I do not believe I have yet made an introduction.”

Kate cursed herself at the lilting tone of Lady Danbury’s reply. “Of course,” she replied
quickly, “It must be my mistake.”

The mistake was Kate’s slip of the tongue as she was absolutely certain that the Viscount was
the same gentleman from her morning ride. She observed him frantically writing his name on
dance cards and smiled to herself. His hair was hidden before, and she admired the slight curl
of his locks. She had never thought a man’s hair was pretty until tonight.

“Well, do not concern yourself Miss Sharma,” Lady Danbury answered, “I can resolve that
issue posthaste.”

Lady Danbury brushed past Kate’s shoulder and she watched as the woman walked
purposefully toward the woman standing somewhat behind the Viscount. Edwina sidled up to
Kate’s arm and cleared her throat.

“The Viscount is quite handsome.”

“Yes…I suppose so.” Kate took note of the beat of silence and looked at her younger sister.
Edwina was looking at her, teasingly, her brows raised. Kate rolled her eyes, but knew she
was blushing. Mary tapped her elbow.

“Lady Danbury is requesting our presence.” Mary led the way while Edwina placed a hand in
the crook of Kate’s arm.

“Didi, I do believe you are blushing. Unless your lady’s maid placed more rouge on your
cheeks than you instructed.”

“Bon…” Kate warned and Edwina grinned in triumph.

“You can admit a man is handsome, Kate. It does not signify! This is a ball. It is meant to be
enjoyable, no?”

Kate bit her bottom lip and Edwina continued in a whisper, “And I do not think you were
mistaken. I think you have seen that gentleman before.”

Sighing, Kate relented. She glanced over her shoulder then made sure Mary was far enough
ahead of them. “He saw me riding in the park this morning —”

“Didi!” Edwina gasped.

“He promised discretion! Then he directed me to Mayfair. That is all,” Kate assured. Edwina
hummed in thought and Kate scoffed, pulling them closer to their mama and Lady Danbury.
“Ah, here they are now,” Lady Danbury smiled and Kate saw the scheming gleam in her eye.
“Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, may I present Miss Sharma and Miss Edwina Sharma.”

The two young ladies curtsied and the Dowager Viscountess smiled. “How lovely! Lady
Mary, your daughters are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Mary replied, beaming proudly. “They have incredible minds along with their
beauty. They are quite accomplished.”

“Of course. I would not expect anything less from any daughter of yours. Please, let me
introduce you all to the Viscount.” She turned and waved her hand delicately.

Kate’s heart raced. She did not expect to actually see him again — and so soon! In front of
their mothers and Lady Danbury, no less! She looked over her shoulder and wondered if she
could flee without bringing attention to herself.

“Here he is…”

Kate lowered her eyes and braced herself.

“Lady Mary, my eldest, The Viscount Bridgerton. Anthony, this is Lady Mary and her two
daughters, Miss Sharma and Miss Edwina Sharma.”

Kate curtsied and took a fortifying breath only to nearly curse when she finally raised her
chin. The damn man was looking right at her! He grinned knowingly, and she widened her
eyes in annoyance.

He bowed his head. “Lady Mary. Miss Sharma. Miss Edwina. Lovely to make your
acquaintance.”

“We were just discussing the many accomplishments of my wards.” Lady Danbury looked at
the two girls expectantly. When neither of the sisters spoke, she arched a brow. “Is that not
right, Miss Sharma?”

Kate gave her a forced smile. “Indeed. My sister has several accomplishments to her name.
She is fluent in many languages, such as French, Latin, and Greek. Marathi and Hindustani.
She is a wonderful musician, as well. Though quite accomplished on the pianoforte, she is
even more gifted at the sitar.”

“My goodness!” The Dowager Viscountess answered, chuckling. “Miss Edwina, you are
impressive.”

Edwina smiled politely. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton.”

“And what of you, Miss Sharma?” The Viscount asked. Kate pursed her lips, while Lady
Bridgerton quietly admonished her son.

“Please, pardon the Viscount. He often forgets his manners.”

Lady Danbury was quick to reply. “It is quite alright. In fact, it so happens that Miss Sharma
is well-versed in all the same disciplines as her younger sister. Just this morning, she told me
of the many lessons she has bestowed upon Miss Edwina.”

Lady Danbury smiled, throwing Kate’s boasts from this morning back in her face before
continuing, “Despite being a young lady herself, Miss Sharma has the experience of expertly
training a debutante for a London season. A rather useful trait for, say…a Viscountess. Would
you not agree, Lady Bridgerton?”

Lady Bridgerton attempted to hide her chuckle while Kate glared at her sponsor. “Quite,
Lady Danbury.”

“A fact that does not signify as I have no plans to marry.” Kate stated clearly, and Mary
sighed, warily.

“Kate,” she said, quietly, but Kate simply raised her chin and looked at the Viscount straight-
on.

She expected his gaze to move toward Edwina after she denounced the implications made by
Lady Danbury. Instead she was met with an even wider smile from Lord Bridgerton. A
dimple was revealed, and Kate hated how it made him look even more handsome.

Why did he insist on provoking her? And why did it cause a flutter akin to butterflies in her
stomach?

“Well, then.” His phrasing did not go unnoticed, as it was the same tone and words from their
morning encounter. “You are very certain about yourself, Miss Sharma.”

“I have much to be certain about, my lord.”

Edwina covered her mouth to hide her giggle, which drew the man’s attention toward
Edwina’s wrist. He seemed to glance at Kate’s wrist as well and she nearly hid them behind
her back.

“This is the reason you have no dance card.”

“Very astute of you to notice,” Kate answered, voice laced with irony. “Though my absence
on the dance floor should not be too significant a loss as you have many other ladies to dance
with tonight, Lord Bridgerton.”

The Viscount narrowed his eyes before letting out a laugh. Lady Bridgerton and Lady
Danbury turned to him sharply, both obviously surprised. Kate ignored the way Lady
Bridgerton turned toward her, assessingly.

“Too right, Miss Sharma. I have claimed partners for every dance tonight. However, you are
in luck for the Queen’s Diamond Ball is fast-approaching. May I be so bold as to claim your
first and last dance?”

Kate’s jaw dropped. “Two dances?!”

“She would be delighted!” Lady Danbury answered and she turned to her sponsor in horror,
ignoring the eager gaze of Lady Bridgerton.

“Wonderful!” Lord Bridgerton answered. He grinned at Kate, smugly. “I look forward to it.”
At that he bowed his head, and excused himself to claim his first dance with one of the other
debutantes.

“Lady Danbury!” Kate exclaimed, turning toward her sponsor.

“Miss Sharma,” Lady Danbury replied, a very pleased look on her face. “Miss Edwina, come.
We shall secure some dances with the many fine gentlemen in attendance tonight. Perhaps a
turn about the room?”

Lady Danbury began walking without waiting for a reply, and Edwina followed quickly. She
glanced over her shoulder with a slightly apologetic look. Kate’s mouth was agape, and
though she knew it was improper to show such expression at a ball, she could not restrain it.

“Fret not, Miss Sharma. My son is an exceptional dancer.”

Kate did not realize that Lady Bridgerton had remained near Mary. She closed her mouth in
respect to the Dowager.

“Apologies, Lady Bridgerton. I did not mean to imply anything untoward.”

“It’s quite alright, dear,” the woman said, entirely too kind. “Should my son behave poorly
during your dances, I highly encourage putting him in his place. I rather think the Viscount
needs it every so often.”

She raised her brows then bowed her head. “Lady Mary.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” Mary replied. They watched the Dowager walk away and Kate turned
toward her mama. Mary opened her mouth, as though to comfort, only to begin laughing
softly.

Kate felt herself nearly pout before Mary took her arm. “There, there, Kate. Let us get some
punch, hm? A refreshing drink will certainly soothe your temper.”

“I was hoping we would meet again.”

The night was too warm, but still a relief from the balmy air in the conservatory. He had
watched as Miss Sharma made her sly escape to the terrace moments earlier. Without a
second thought, he had followed her as soon as his miserable dance ended, eager to speak to
her alone.

Miss Sharma huffed, which only encouraged Anthony even more. “You are displeased.”

“I am displeased when a man does not listen to me. Yes.”

“I listened. You have no intention of marrying this season, and as I have yet to propose I do
not see the issue.”

She scoffed and turned toward him, allowing him to admire the cut of her cheeks and the
expressiveness of her eyes. Perhaps too alluring, he thought, Though she is the most
qualified young lady as of yet. Her accomplishments cannot be ignored.

“Are the women of London truly so easily won by a pleasing smile and nothing more?”

“So you find my smile pleasing.”

“It is evident that you use your charms to sway others into giving you what you desire.”

“Such as?”

“Two dances, apparently.”

“Only with you.”

She rolled her eyes and looked toward the ballroom. Anthony followed her gaze and saw
Miss Edwina dancing with Lord Cho. A reasonable man, but rather old for the younger
sister.

“Lord Cho is respectable, but I do not think you will find him suitable for your sister.”

“And why is that?”

“He is fine, but rather dull. If your sister is as accomplished as you have said, then I believe
he will bore her very quickly. She would do well with someone who is more engaging.”

“Yes, Edwina wants a partner who not only matches her intelligence, but respects it.”

“Not many men fall under that description. I had the same dilemma when my sister debuted
last year. No one was good enough.”

At that she relaxed her shoulders. She looked at him, and he tried not to appear too proud at
his small victory.

“If your sister seeks someone who matches her wit, she will likely fare better at galleries and
museum panels. Events of that nature. A ballroom naturally repels the scholarly sort of
gentleman.” Then, for he could not help himself, he grinned, “I shall gladly escort you to any
such event as I am sure you would like to be with Miss Edwina on her outings.”

She frowned, deeply. “I do not tolerate being mocked.”

At that, Anthony was genuinely confused. “I do not follow.”

“Clearly, my Lord,” Miss Sharma started, “You enjoy vexing me, and though I will gladly
engage in a game of wits, I will not be toyed with as though I am a silly debutante. I will not
swoon at your false advances and pretty words for a laugh.”
His jaw dropped and a quick rage swept through him. “You —?” Anthony shook his head and
frowned. “I am not toying with your affections as some cruel jest, Miss Sharma.”

“Then what are your intentions, Lord Bridgerton? I do not understand.”

“A courtship, of course.”

They both stood across from one another, taken aback by his words. Anthony had not even
realized it was true until the words fell out. Miss Sharma blinked, confused and he nearly
laughed at how oblivious she was to his visceral attraction to her.

“Miss Sharma…I do not understand why you are shocked by such proclamations. Perhaps I
need to speak plainly.” He took a step forward and she narrowed her eyes, suspiciously. “You
are challenging, obstinate, and intelligent. You are beautiful, altogether rather beguiling. And
though there are many pretty young ladies in that ballroom, you are the one I have any
interest in pursuing.”

“I…” Miss Sharma stood flustered.

He sighed and took a step closer. “I am looking for a woman who is capable of being the next
Viscountess Bridgerton.”

“And you believe that I fit such a title? You do not know anything about me, my lord.”

“I know enough,” he answered confidently. “I have three younger sisters, one of whom is
newly out and acts without any concern for my mother’s concerns. All of my siblings are
incorrigible — they will not respect a young debutante as the leader of our family. And
despite being new to London society, you, Miss Sharma, are already a formidable opponent
of Lady Danbury — the most intimidating woman of the ton, excluding the Queen of
course.”

Her resolve softened and he was glad to see Miss Sharma taking his words seriously. He
attempted another step closer, and was engulfed by the smell of her soap…Something floral,
perhaps? It was incredibly alluring and he hoped to one day press his face against the nape of
her neck.

“Along with your many admirable accomplishments and traits…I must confess,” he said in a
low voice, “Seeing you ride astride has also played a part in my decision.”

Her eyes widened before they mirrored his own desire. So she understood the implication of
his remarks. Another mark in her favor.

“Oh?” She breathed, her chest heaving. “I cannot imagine why.”

“I think you know why.”

Somehow, Anthony had drifted so close to Miss Sharma that their chests nearly touched. His
eyes slowly moved from her eyes to her lips, pausing there to admire its shape.
“I suppose…” Suddenly she took a step back and the night air hit Anthony’s front like a
wall.

He blinked and shook his head in an attempt to reorient himself. Miss Sharma’s guarded
expression resumed its place as she lifted her chin. Fortunately, rather than a scowl, Miss
Sharma wore a coy grin.

“I suppose it highlighted deficiencies of your horsemanship. I may allow you to learn from
me, should you decide to humble yourself and ask for the lessons you require.”

Her arrogance only fueled his desire for the maddening woman, and Anthony momentarily
wondered if he had misjudged the situation. That perhaps, it would be wiser for him to stay
away. But then she curtsied, with an effortless air of irony, and he knew he had no other
course.

“Lord Bridgerton.” She brushed past him, allowing her shoulder to lightly touch his own.

It was decided.

Miss Sharma would be his wife.

She scanned the list of suitors, making sure every note was in the correct place. Yes, this will
help Edwina quite nicely.

Kate got up from the desk in her new lodgings and made her way downstairs. She saw her
mother, Lady Danbury, and Edwina waiting in the drawing room. Lady Danbury stood in the
corner and surveyed the flowers and refreshments, preparing for the inevitable onslaught of
interested men.

“Here you are, Bon. My notes thus far.”

Edwina plucked the list from her hand, eagerly, and scanned the names with Mary. Mary
frowned.

“Lord Lumley? Did we like him?”

Edwina hummed and tilted her head. “He is very fond of poetry. I would be interested in
discussing literature further with him.” She looked up from the list and assessed Kate’s attire.

“Didi…is that what you plan on wearing during calling hours?”

“Of course,” Kate chuckled, “Why else would I be wearing it?”

“It is just…” Edwina pursed her lips. “Dark. And slightly loose-fitting.”

“Those details make the dress perfect for today’s purpose — which is you, Bon.”

“But what if Lord Bridgerton —“

“I will not dress for any man, let alone the Viscount.”

Kate raised her brow, effectively ending the conversation. Edwina deflated ever so slightly, so
Mary played peacemaker, offering more comments on the list of suitors Kate made.

Of course she took no pleasure in disappointing Edwina, but Kate was not the one looking for
a husband. Edwina was the one who could find love, not Kate. Edwina would have the
children. Kate was too old to be considered an appropriate bride.

Kate made peace with her lot in life years ago. Independence suited her just fine.

A statement only highlighted by the poor showing of each suitor that very morning. Many of
them came as soon as calling hours began, and Kate corralled them into an orderly fashion to
allow for a more intimate conversation with Edwina. It seemed like the right decision at the
time, but five suitors into the morning and Kate wondered if she set them up for failure. Each
man had been terribly dull, and having only one man at a time forced Edwina to stay awake
and focused.

Lady Mary tutted under her breath, and Kate glanced at her mother across the small table.
Mary shook her head, “Perhaps you can more clearly see why I chose to run off with your
father.”

Lady Danbury hid a smile into her teacup, while Kate sighed. “This is unbearable. I cannot
take this man’s droning any longer.”

“Kate —”

“Lord Gloucester!” Kate announced, standing abruptly. Edwina and the dull man jumped
slightly and Kate gave an overly sweet smile. “I believe your time has ended for this
morning. We thank you for your flowers. Please, let our footman walk you to the door.”

The lord fumbled for his pocket watch while he stood. “Has it already been fifteen minutes?
My watch says —”

“Your watch is wrong. Fortunately, you are free to get that repaired this afternoon. Good day,
Lord Gloucester.” Kate curtsied and Edwina stood to do the same.

The man gaped at both of them before clearing his throat. He gave a slight bow of the head
before walking toward the exit, the footman opening the door for him. Kate walked briskly to
the door and shut it herself, ignoring the complaints of the men on the other side.

“Miss Sharma,” Lady Danbury sighed, “You must give the men time.”

“Perhaps some of them,” Kate replied. “That man? Absolutely not.”

“Lord Gloucester is not so abhorrent,” Lady Danbury challenged. “He is highly respected
amongst the ton.”

Before anyone could respond, they heard a man’s voice boom through the wall. “This is
madness! When will we get a chance to speak to Miss Edwina? Surely her sister cannot be so
strict.”

Lady Danbury muttered, “Their griping will end should we allow more of them in at the
same time.”

Kate held her tongue, unwilling to admit she had been wrong yet dreading more one-on-one
calls. She was saved when another man’s voice cut through the complaints. “I say we heed
the young lady and wait with the grace our host affords us.”

Impressed by this sole defender, Edwina caught Kate’s eye and gave a shrug of her shoulders,
giving her acquiescence to open the door. Kate grinned and stalked to the doors only to
immediately frown.

For Lord Bridgerton stood at the doorway, hands behind his back.

“Lord Bridgerton!” Edwina said, jovially.

He bowed his head then stared at Kate. She bit the inside of her cheek. “I am afraid you are
rather too late, my lord. You find yourself at the back of a considerably long queue. Perhaps
you can try another time, hm?”

He only grinned and Kate fought the urge to visibly scoff. Lord Bridgerton glanced at the
queue and looked over her shoulder into the drawing room.

“I was under the impression this queue was for those wishing to call on Miss Edwina.
However delighted I am to see your family again, Miss Sharma, I must admit that I came
here to call on you.”

“I am not accepting callers at the moment,” Kate argued only for Lady Danbury to step up
beside her.

“You are welcome to call on Miss Sharma on the other side of the drawing room. I am sure
Lady Mary will not mind chaperoning while I remain with Miss Edwina and her suitors.”

“We did not —”

“What a splendid idea, Lady Danbury,” Mary interrupted, placing a hand on Kate’s elbow.
“Come this way, Viscount Bridgerton. Oh and what lovely flowers.”

Kate, who had turned away in annoyance, glanced back at Lord Bridgerton. He must have
had the flowers behind his back earlier.

The Viscount smiled charmingly. “Ah, yes. They are for you, in fact. As well as Miss Edwina
and Lady Danbury.” He handed each of the women a small bouquet of roses then offered a
much larger arrangement to Kate, his smile even wider. “For you, Miss Sharma.”

“How lovely!” Edwina exclaimed, peering at Kate’s bouquet, impressed. “Do you not think
so, Didi?”
She had never received a bouquet of flowers before, not even in India. And this arrangement
was particularly lovely. It was tasteful and bright. The ribbon along the stems matched the
color of her dress at the ball last night. Of course the flowers were beautiful. Kate’s stomach
churned and her cheeks blushed furiously.

“Do you not like them, Miss Sharma?” Lord Bridgerton asked, quietly. Kate cleared her
throat, embarrassed.

She swallowed and lowered her voice. “Apologies. The flowers are unexpected. I am merely
surprised. They are very beautiful, my lord. Thank you. I have always admired the art of
flower arranging.”

“Kate has a gift for painting florals, actually,” Lady Mary said. “Those will make an excellent
model for your next watercolor, dear.”

Kate nodded, and a footman walked up to take the bouquet from her hands. She hesitated
then handed them off. “Please place them in my room,” she requested, quietly and from the
corner of her eye she saw Lord Bridgerton’s chest puff up.

“Shall we?” Lady Mary said, gesturing toward a settee.

Kate tossed her head back, shaking off any signs of how moved she was by his flowers. She
would not be so easily wooed. She was only taken by surprise, that was all. Kate refused to
be charmed by this incorrigible man.

“Anthony? Did you call on any young ladies today?”

The rest of the chatter around the dinner table paused as their mother waited for Anthony to
answer. He chewed on his food, staving off a chuckle.

“Indeed. I called on Miss Sharma.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Violet crowed and the rest of his siblings snickered at their mama’s
transparency. “I am so glad. She is so very lovely.”

“I am not sure that would be my first descriptor of Miss Sharma, but ‘tis true I suppose.”

Benedict leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his wine. “And how did Miss Sharma fare
at her interview?”

“Interview?” Violet asked, but Anthony chose not to explain.

“No need. I have already decided that I plan on pursuing Miss Sharma in earnest. I will marry
her and she will be the next viscountess.”

Benedict choked on his wine and everyone else’s cutlery clattered on their plates. Violet’s
eyes widened and she held a hand to her chest.

“That is rather sudden, dearest.”

“It may appear as such, but it is really the most apparent course,” Anthony replied. “I have
already conversed with every young woman participating this season, and am confident in
my choice. I have already told her of my intentions.”

“And what did Miss Sharma have to say?” Violet asked.

Anthony felt the corners of his lips twitch at the thought of her brushing past him at the
conservatory. Her eyes when he mentioned her riding astride.

“She thought I was making light. Then she suggested I humble myself before attempting any
further acquaintance.”

“Did she really?” Eloise asked, intrigued. She leaned over her plate. “That is fantastic”

“From what I recall,” Violet replied, picking up her fork and knife once more, “Miss Sharma
is rather opposed to finding a husband. She may need some time, Anthony.”

“You would set your hat on the one woman who does not wish to marry you,” Benedict said,
shaking his head.

“It is of no concern, Mother,” Anthony said. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat
back in his chair. “She knows I intend to court her. And, despite her initial hesitation, she
allowed me to call on her for a near hour.”

“It was not as though she could turn you away, Brother,” Eloise argued.

“On the contrary,” Anthony chuckled, “She has no issue turning away callers. In fact, she did
just as much for her sister’s suitors. Allotted fifteen minutes per gentleman, and practically
shoved Lord Gloucester out the door after a mere eight.”

“I adore her,” Eloise proclaimed, and Benedict looked at Anthony in fascination. Their
mother cleared her throat.

“Well, well, well. Then it seems you did something right, hm?”

Anthony thought back to that morning, at the flustered expression Miss Sharma wore when
he gave her the flowers. He thought he had insulted her somehow. Throughout his visit, Miss
Sharma continued to look at the roses he had given to her mother.

Eventually, he had asked her, in a low voice, if roses were not as popular in India. She
blinked, surprised to be caught, then shook her head.

“It is not that. I was only admiring them. They are so hearty yet are often depicted as so
delicate. It is not often I receive such arrangements, and I like to study each flower’s
structure.”

“You do not receive flowers often?”

At that, he saw a guardedness in Miss Sharma’s gaze. She lifted her chin. “No. No, I have
never been given flowers actually. I did not have a season in India, so.”
She had sipped on her tea and immediately changed the topic. He was the first to ever gift her
flowers. It had made him inexplicably sad, and his heart still twinged at the thought of her
guarded expression. She was not used to such displays of affection

The sound of Hyacinth yelling at Gregory brought Anthony back to the dinner table. Taking a
sip of his wine, he willed away the twinge in his chest.

“Didi, please. It is clear what you are attempting, and I will not allow it!” Edwina crossed the
room and stood by the maid attempting to finish Kate’s hair. “Clara, do not listen to her.
Styling her hair so severely ages her significantly.”

“I am not young, Bon. I am six-and-twenty. Many would consider me an old maid.”

Edwina continued as though Kate had not interrupted. “I think a looser style will suit her
nicely. Nothing too forward, but at least some curls to frame the face. She has the loveliest
cheekbones!”

“Edwina…”

“And some more rouge as well.”

“Edwina!” Kate huffed and twisted in her seat to look at her younger sister. “If the Viscount
is serious in his intentions then my hairstyle should not be of any importance. He shall know
who he is dancing with for I will not play any part.”

“Nor do I want you to! The Viscount likes you for you!” Edwina sighed and began picking
through the assortment of hair pieces on the vanity. “Even when you exchange barbs, he is
completely enamored. And the way he holds himself — so very dignified amongst the ton,
but with you he seems less so. Less stuffy. It is all very sweet.”

Deciding it was not worth trying to calm her sister, Kate allowed her to continue chattering
away as though tonight would play out like a novel. Edwina had been completely enthralled
by the Viscount’s ardent pursuit of Kate, and every day leading to the Diamond Ball was
filled with her romanticism.

It did not help that he had called every day since the conservatory ball. That he sent bouquets
for every woman in the house, the largest always for Kate, every morning.

“Bon, please do not distract yourself with a simple two dances —”

“Ha! As though two dances is not significant —”

“— Focus on which gentlemen you hope to know better. If you like, we can review the list I
have compiled.”

Edwina sighed and sat on the edge of Kate’s bed as they continued getting ready. Truthfully,
the distraction was also for Kate’s benefit. She knew that tonight would finally satiate the
Viscount’s curiosity. They would dance and it would end whatever odd tension prickled
between them.
Then, Kate could focus on her original plan. Find Edwina a husband. Make plans to become
a governess.

She continued this line of thought during the carriage ride, their arrival in front of the Queen,
and throughout her first turn about the ballroom. She watched as Lady Danbury whispered to
the Queen and Kate hoped she was putting in a good word.

It was soon after that the Bridgertons crossed her line of sight, all of them greeting Her Royal
Majesty looking as distinguished as one would expect. And dash it all, watching the Viscount
converse with one of his brothers caused the flutter in her chest to return in earnest. Her
breath quickened as did her pulse. Every thought about Edwina fought to stay in focus, only
to wane as the Viscount walked closer and closer.

“Miss Sharma.” Lord Bridgerton bowed his head, his hands clasped behind his back. She
pursed her lips at his smug expression, dimples in full display yet again.

He leaned toward her ever so slightly as he continued, “I must admit, I was not entirely
certain you would attend tonight’s festivities.”

“It is the Queen’s Diamond Ball. As my sister has the greatest chance of being named this
season’s Diamond, it was necessary to attend.”

“You are confident in Miss Edwina.”

“Yes. Are you not confident in your own sister’s prospects?”

“If you knew Eloise, you would find that remark very amusing.”

Before Kate could reply, a throat clearing interrupted. “Am I to stand around all night,
Brother? Or are you so desperate to hide your nearest and dearest sibling?”

Lord Bridgerton’s jaw clenched as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He sighed and shifted his
body to allow his brother into the conversation. “Miss Sharma, this is my brother Mr.
Benedict Bridgerton.”

She curtsied as Mr. Bridgerton gave an exaggerated bow. When he stood, Kate could glean
that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton was significantly less serious than his elder brother. His grin
was lopsided and endearing. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Sharma,” he said, “When I heard
of my brother’s brazenness — asking a young lady for two dances at a ball held on a different
night. Well. I could not wait to make your acquaintance.”

“I rather agree with your assessment, Mr. Bridgerton. Brazen is an apt word to describe his
actions.”

Lord Bridgerton merely grinned, pleased. “Speaking of which...Do you happen to have a
dance card this evening, Miss Sharma, or have you decided I shall be your only dance partner
tonight?”

“My sponsor insisted upon a dance card. She is under the impression that other men may
want to dance when they see me dance with a viscount. And should that be the case, I believe
I may have to step on your toes during our last foray on the dancefloor.”

“Well. We shan’t have that, shall we?”

After quickly signing his name on her card, Lord Bridgerton turned to his brother and raised
his eyebrows. Benedict furrowed his own brows, confused, and followed his brother’s
pointed look toward Kate’s wrist.

“Ah, we are playing that game, I see,” Mr. Bridgerton sighed, but looked at her with
amusement. “Miss Sharma. May I have the honor of claiming a dance tonight?”

“Are you quite serious, my lord?” Kate asked, turning toward Lord Bridgerton, who only
tutted.

“It is impolite to refuse a dance offered by a gentleman.”

She sighed, deeply. “I am not an object for you to keep for yourself, Lord Bridgerton.”

Still, Kate held up her wrist and allowed the Viscount’s brother to sign his name. She would
rather dance with someone with no serious interest than risk dancing with some of the more
odious men in attendance tonight.

“I did not say anything of the sort,” Lord Bridgerton replied, quickly. “I am merely trying to
protect my toes.”

“Right, of course,” Kate replied, and Mr. Bridgerton snorted.

Lord Bridgerton nudged his brother to the side and offered his gloved hand. “Miss Sharma.
Shall we?”

“I suppose we must,” she answered.

Miss Edwina Sharma was named the Diamond of the season. Anthony’s eyes, however, were
solely trained on her sister. The way that Miss Sharma’s face beamed with quiet pride. How
her shoulders dropped, momentarily relieved of burden. He recognized the feeling well. How
he had felt when Daphne was given the same honor.

Benedict leaned over and whispered, “You look at her the way I look at a Vermeer.”

“That comparison means little to me.”

“I look at them to understand something deeper than myself, than my capabilities. To bask in
their beauty and learn from their wisdom.”

“You are spending too much time with other artists, Ben.”

Benedict nudged him with his shoulder. “I hope you do not let your prior convictions about
marriage sully this courtship.”
Heat crawled up Anthony’s neck as he kept his eyes on Miss Sharma. He swallowed. “Let us
focus on securing the courtship first, shall we?”

With that he stalked off, away from Benedict and his romantic notions, ignoring the tight
brace Miss Sharma’s smile held around his heart already.

As she drifted off to sleep, Kate wondered if she would see Lord Bridgerton during calling
hours ever again. Their two dances were full of their usual barbs as the ton watched in
fascination. Certainly, they whispered about the Viscount wasting time with the sister. The
spinster of low birth. And with Edwina being named the Diamond, the Sharmas would be
criticized even more so than before. Lord Bridgerton’s interest would surely fade soon.

Kate was startled to find she was completely wrong in her assessment when Lord Bridgerton
found her during her morning ride the following morning.

“You realize this is incredibly improper.”

“We are both enjoying a morning ride. It is a simple coincidence that we have crossed paths.”

“Is that so?” She asked, archly. Lord Bridgerton merely smiled, and Kate imagined he likely
got away with many misdeeds with that smile. Kate continued on her path and heard his
horse trot beside her. He sighed quite a long sigh and pulled ahead to block her path.

“Are you quite serious?” She asked.

“Miss Sharma, please. I am not here to accost you. I have heard your many proclamations of
remaining unmarried. I am not some boorish man who refuses to listen when a young lady
says no.”

“And yet you are here.”

“Please. A moment of your time.”

Kate pursed her lips, assessing his expression. He appeared genuine. She nodded, allowing
him to continue, curiosity getting the best of her.

“I only came here this morning to inquire why you have renounced marriage and to plead my
case, if you can stand to hear it.”

“You still wish to court me?”

His brow furrowed. “Yes, of course.”

Was he unaware of the whispers last night? Perhaps he did not truly know of her station.
After a moment, she said, “Fine. As you have been honest with me, I suppose I shall afford
you the same respect. However, I would like to continue riding while we speak. I did not
sneak out to sit atop a stationary horse.”
He chuckled then moved out of the pathway. They rode in silence, Kate carefully considering
her words. Finally, she started, “Any potential for marriage fled my mind as soon as my
father passed away eight years ago. Whatever season I might have had was forgotten. I am
six-and-twenty, my lord.”

She paused, expecting some sort of response — perhaps surprise or consideration. Yet when
she glanced at him he was simply waiting for her to continue. Kate cleared her throat.

“I am not upset by my lot in life. Everything I have ever done has been for my family,
therefore I have no regrets. Frankly, I have grown quite accustomed to being independent. I
will be a governess. I will return to India where women are not expected to adhere to the
strict customs of your society. That is why I do not seek a husband.”

She expected him to scoff or make light of her desires in life. Instead, they rode in silence
once again and she began to feel discomforted by his lack of reaction.

“Well?” She said, briskly. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yes, of course. I was mulling over your words,” he replied. “May I ask another question? As
a reply to your answer.”

“You may.”

“Did you ever wish to marry before? Before your father passed?”

Kate glanced at him and saw true curiosity. “I suppose so, yes. My parents were a true love
match. They made each other incandescently happy. It is what I wish for Edwina. And,
well…when I was younger I suppose I aspired to the same type of marriage.”

“Ah.” The Viscount’s tone shifted. “A love match.”

She frowned. “You do not wish for the same?”

“Not at all.” He kept his face forward. “Love has nothing to do with my pursuit of a wife.”

“How charming.”

He grinned. “Now may I present my case for your consideration?”

At that she stopped her horse and he followed suit.

“I am considered a spinster, my lord.”

“You are only three years younger than myself. Your seniority over the typical debutante is of
no significance to me. In fact, it is a trait of yours I value. I am a viscount seeking a
viscountess, equipped to be the leader of my family. You alone best fit what I seek in a
partner.”

Kate was shocked. She was certain her argument would deter Lord Bridgerton. What an
unusual man.
“I admit you have piqued my curiosity,” Kate answered. She adjusted her riding gloves. “So.
Make your case, then.”

Lord Bridgerton sat up straighter and clenched his jaw. “Miss Sharma. I have thought about
this considerably. I truly believe you and I are very well-suited. We have similar interests. I
believe we may even have a…passionate union, unlike many other marriages of the ton.” At
that, she blushed and she felt her heart quicken.

He, mercifully, continued, “I would never attempt to strip you of your independence. It is
something I rather admire about you, actually. If you like to ride astride, you will ride astride.
You will be a viscountess, a Bridgerton no less. No one would dare question you, not when
you have such titles. I admit, the roles we hold in London society are not as forgiving as the
customs of your home. However, whatever you choose to do with your title, your power, as
my wife — I will support you.”

He brought his horse a little closer, and those damn butterflies awoke in her stomach once
again. Lord Bridgerton lowered his voice. “I know I am not offering a love match, but I do
not wish for separate lives or anything of that sort. I imagine our union as a partnership . I
will be a faithful and dependable husband. Everything I have ever done has also been for my
family, of which you will be a member. You will never want for anything. And, most
importantly, you can stay close to your sister and mother without the forfeiture of your
values.”

The Viscount looked at her with such determination, Kate nearly lost her breath.

“Do you think, with all that I have said, you may be willing to entertain a courtship?” He
asked, earnestly. “To allow me to show you what we may have as husband and wife?”

She could see it. The future he painted. Arguments and passion. Amusement, to be sure. She
imagined his smile, the one that revealed his dimple. Kate almost yearned for his vision, and
she knew it did not have to do with the security or the title. It was him

Only a few nights ago, Lady Danbury cornered her. She argued that the independent life Kate
declared for herself was an act of fear. She had not understood the Dowager then. Now,
though…As she weighed her options, Kate understood how terrifying it was to open oneself
up to another person. To want another person.

The word slipped out. “Alright.”

Lord Bridgerton’s eyebrows shot up. “Alright?”

“Alright,” Kate repeated, keeping her expression neutral despite the laugh bubbling in her
chest at the sight of the Viscount’s boyish glee.

She rather enjoyed the Viscount’s smile. How it made him look much less serious, and so
much more handsome. Not that she would admit any sort of thing aloud. Since the man was
so intent on courting her, Kate decided she could allow herself the luxury of admiring his
attractiveness.
“You had best make it worth my time, my lord.”

At that he smirked. “I have no doubts about that, Miss Sharma.”

He took her to the Royal Ascot. She liked riding. Anthony thought it a pleasant way to show
his expertise in one of her hobbies, while spending a day in the sun with his family. Of course
Miss Sharma ruined his plans.

“Nectar? Really.”

He heard all of his siblings snickering in the row behind them, and Anthony huffed in
annoyance.

“He is favored to win!”

“So you admit you merely picked the horse chosen by everyone else?”

“I — No, I did not….” Anthony blinked and glanced at the tracks again. “I have a good
feeling about him.”

“A feeling,” she remarked in a derisive tone yet again causing Anthony to clench his jaw.
“Well, we shall see whose horse ends up winning today, Lord Bridgerton.”

“You are infuriating,” he replied and she smirked at him, a teasing glint in her eye.

“As are you, my lord.”

“I rather think you are delightful, Miss Sharma!” Colin said.

In fact, the entire Bridgerton brood lauded Miss Sharma that day. Hyacinth adored Miss
Sharma’s earrings, while Gregory blushed upon first sight. When Miss Sharma commented
on a book Eloise mentioned, agreeing and critiquing his sister’s appraisal of it, Eloise
beamed. Francesca, ever the quiet one, did not make conversation but seemed rather at ease
around the young lady. It seemed the entire family became quickly enamored with Miss
Sharma.

And when Miss Sharma whistled and screamed and cheered on the stands at the Ascot,
Anthony found himself becoming rather enamored as well. While she gloated, so chuffed by
her win, a swell of affection and pride crested in his chest. He huffed and sighed, grumbling
about beginner’s luck, but in truth Anthony never wanted her to stop.

She thwarted all of his original plans for the season. He struggled with how to navigate this
maze of feelings — affection, lust, anxiety — yet could not stop himself from continuing the
courtship with fervor. He woke up thinking of Miss Sharma. He checked his pocket watch,
only ever thinking of when he would have a chance to see her again. At night, he dreamt of
her and only her. It was maddening.

“I do not see the issue,” Benedict argued as they made their way to White’s after a round of
fencing. The carriage jostled and Anthony pinched his nose bridge, annoyed by his slip of the
tongue.

Benedict had been needling him about how besotted he seemed, teasing Anthony about his
declaration about picking a wife with his head and not his heart, and Anthony had
unthinkingly muttered something to the effect of his courtship being an error.

“I did not mean what I said, Benedict,” Anthony assured, “Let us forget the moment and
move on.”

A moment of silence passed and Anthony nearly let himself feel relief, only for Benedict to
bluntly state, “No. We shall not.”

“Ben —”

“I know I have been teasing you since the start of this courtship, but it is all in good spirits.
Truly, we are all enthused about the match. Miss Sharma is far better than we ever dared to
hope for. You must see it. You two fit so well and she would be an excellent Viscountess.
Why can you not have a wife whom you love whilst simultaneously fulfilling your duty as a
Viscount?”

Anthony clenched his jaw so tightly, he heard something pop. He twisted his signet ring and
kept his eyes on the passing view of the city streets. If he did not get this weight off his chest,
he feared his head would combust.

“You are the poet of the family, are you not? You have read numerous accounts about the
destructive nature of heartbreak. I vowed to never let …love destroy this family a second
time. Never again.”

The carriage was quiet and Anthony finally turned to look at his brother. Benedict looked so
somber, so caught off guard, that Anthony almost felt guilty for inflicting him with his own
cynicism.

Benedict replied, softly, “I would argue that love is what prevented us from falling to
pieces.”

Anthony scoffed. “You remember what Mother was like, do you not? I distinctly remember
her falling to pieces.”

“She was devastated. A ghost of her past self. A ghost you hid from all of us, for which I am
sorry.” Anthony started to shake his head, to dismiss the apology, but Benedict would not let
him. “No, Brother. You took on too much, and I am sorry. It is all due to your strength that I
am able to have a different perspective of that time.”

“And what would that perspective be?” Anthony asked, reluctant to hear Benedict’s diluted
memories of that time.

“You say love destroyed us when I say love kept us whole. Love is what pulled us through.”

“That is a rather romantic way of viewing it I suppose.”

“It is not meant to be romantic, Anthony. Losing Father so suddenly…The pain was
horrendous. It still is, sometimes. There is nothing to romanticize about his death. It was…
Well there are no words to truly encapsulate the grief of that time.”

Anthony furrowed his brows and waited. Benedict sighed, frustrated by Anthony’s lack of
understanding. He chewed on his lip, and after a moment, Benedict continued to explain.

“I think back to the year after Father’s death and am reminded of how heartbroken we were
by it. How could I not think of our heartbreak? Mother was bedridden. Daphne matured
entirely too fast. You had no time to grieve. We were hurt, yes. Destroyed? Never.” Benedict
laughed lightly. “Look at us. We are as close, and chaotic, and overwhelming as ever before.”

Anthony huffed a chuckle before murmuring, “Perhaps even more chaotic with Hyacinth.”

“Exactly!” Ben leaned forward and poked Anthony’s arm, hard. “Love is the reason for
Hyacinth and Greg’s joyfulness, despite never knowing Father. Love is where we found our
strength to help Eloise and Francesca when they were still so young. That love for one
another? It stems from the love passed on by Mother and Father. What would we be if we did
not have our parents' love as our foundation?”

Benedict clicked his tongue, shaking his head to himself. “I mean, my God. Imagine the
alternative. Take a look around us, Ant. Look at the other families of the ton.”

They both held each other’s gaze, thinking of the Cowpers’ perpetual sneer and the
Featheringtons’ misery with one another.

Finally, Benedict said, “Without our parents’ love as our guiding light, our family surely
would have broken a long, long time ago. Whether or not Father was alive.”

The carriage suddenly stopped, nearly parked at the front of the club.

“Thank you, Ben. That was surprisingly insightful.”

“A different perspective. Sometimes that is all one needs.” Benedict winked, then clapped
Anthony’s shoulder on his way out of the carriage. “Now. Let’s get foxed.”

The rest of the afternoon, while Benedict did in fact get well and truly foxed, Anthony nursed
his whiskey and considered his brother’s words carefully.

What did the daily life of a loveless marriage look like?

Not completely loveless. Anthony would still love his children. He would dote on them,
endlessly. But, what would family dinners be like? Would his children look at their aunts and
uncles and wonder why their own parents were so distant?

If he and Kate married…there would be no shortage of affection from his end. He would love
their children and dote on their mother. Family dinners would be lively.

Perhaps affection was a necessity for his union. Some affection at least, not love necessarily.
Without the proper amount of affection his family could drift apart when faced with
catastrophe. No. They would need to band together, to combine their strengths.

So it was settled. A proper amount of affection was allowable. Whatever admiration he felt
for Miss Sharma was fine. Encouraged, even. Yes. All for his future family’s well being. It
was his duty, really.

He only needed to ensure that Miss Sharma held enough affection for him.

Kate felt entirely too many eyes track each of her movements.

“They are only jealous, Miss Sharma,” Lady Danbury explained from her side, both of them
eyeing the ballroom. “You have captured the affection of the most eligible man of the season,
and they are too immature to applaud others’ victories.”

“I have not captured anything,” Kate muttered, toying with the dance card hanging limply on
her wrist. What affections could she catch when the Viscount refused to cast them out? All
the while, his kindness and smiles still made her slightly breathless.

“There, there child,” the Dowager tutted. “You will see what I mean soon enough. Here he
comes.”

“Miss Sharma!” Lord Bridgerton smiled widely, pushing through the throng of people by the
dancefloor.

“Lord Bridgerton,” Kate replied, suddenly feeling more at ease, despite the increased number
of eyes upon them.

When did that happen? When did Lord Bridgerton’s presence bring her ease instead of
irritation? She supposed they had been spending a significant amount of time together as of
late.

He called on her every day. He insisted on dancing with her twice at every ball. They went on
promenades and ate ices, and all of the silly things a gentleman was expected to do while
courting a debutante. All the things she did not typically enjoy. Yet with Lord Bridgerton, it
was not the same. There were no simpering comments, no false niceties, but barbs and
laughter. They exchanged opinions and commonalities.

The damn man had crawled his way under her skin and settled himself as…a friend. A friend
who was frustratingly handsome.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” Lord Bridgerton explained, adjusting his cuffs. “I am afraid
my meeting with the family accountant took much longer than anticipated.”

“It is fine, my lord. You have not missed much.” Kate perused the room, then lowered her
voice. “Though it was rather amusing when Miss Cowper attempted to seduce the new Lord
Featherington with her fan. She nearly gouged the man’s eye out.”

The Viscount hid his chuckle behind a cough, shaking his head at her in faux disapproval. He
opened her dance card and froze. “What is this?”
“What?”

“This! On your dance card!”

“I believe it is called a signature, Lord Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury drawled, “They denote a
person’s identity.”

He huffed, aggravatedly and Kate replied, “There are many more spots on my card, Lord
Bridgerton. You have effectively scared off every other gentleman from claiming a dance.”

“All but one apparently!” The Viscount frowned and pulled the card closer. “The first
instance of my tardiness and this man immediately comes forward. It is sneaky, is it not?”

“Not particularly, no,” Lady Danbury muttered, though Lord Bridgerton did not hear.

“And who is he? I cannot make out his name as his penmanship is atrocious.”

“A curse of my professional field, I’m afraid.”

Lord Bridgerton turned at the voice and Kate saw his entire posture stiffen. “Ah. Dorset.”

“Bridgerton,” Mr. Dorset nodded with an amiable smile, “It has been quite some time since
we have last seen each other.”

“You two are familiar with one another?” Kate asked, and she noticed the Viscount’s hands
twitched at his sides.

“We were at Oxford together,” Mr. Dorset answered. “Miss Sharma, a cup of lemonade for
you.”

“Thank you,” Kate replied, politely, while Lord Bridgerton scoffed.

“Miss Sharma dislikes lemonade, Dorset. She finds the drink too sweet, especially after a
dance.”

Kate blinked and turned toward the Viscount. “I have never said anything of the sort.”

“You need not say it aloud as you have declined lemonade at every ball thus far. When you
have been required to drink it, you take the smallest sips and leave the glass more than
halfway full.”

Lord Bridgerton smiled smugly toward Mr. Dorset, while Kate fought the shock on her face.
Had he truly been paying that much attention to her? What else has he observed without her
notice?

Mr. Dorset appeared appropriately chagrined and took the glass back from her limp hold.
Kate registered the movement, and gave him an apologetic smile. “It was very kind of you to
consider my needs, Mr. Dorset. After our lively quadrille, one does typically enjoy a
lemonade. Your gesture is appreciated.”
“Yes, yes. That is all fine and good,” Lord Bridgerton said, dismissively, “As I am well
aware, you much prefer a brief respite outside after a lively dance. Miss Sharma, I will escort
you to the terrace. We shall bid you goodnight, Dorset. ”

At that, he took Kate’s hand and placed it on the crook of his elbow and immediately turned
toward the door. Fortunately, the terrace was fairly crowded so Lady Danbury remained in
the ballroom allowing Kate the slight privacy to sort through her confusion.

“Dorset. Who signs a young lady’s dance card with such abhorrent penmanship? Have some
dignity.”

“We only danced once, Lord Bridgerton,” Kate replied. “He was simply talking about his
time in Bombay. He has an interest in the common medicinal practices in India.”

“I am sure that is what he said, Miss Sharma, though it was not his true motivation. I did not
like the way he was studying you.”

“Because it is the same way you have been studying me, my lord?”

Lord Bridgerton glanced at her quickly, and she noticed a slight flush along his cheeks. His
eyes widened and she let a teasing grin slip through. He let out a laugh, one that was mostly
an exhale of relief, then cleared his throat.

“I suppose so, Miss Sharma.”

“I should like to hear what else you have observed.”

“Do you mean my musings on your figure or…?”

“No, you fool!” She swatted his arm, ignoring the blush his words brought. “Apparently, you
have observed plenty without my notice, such as my dislike of lemonade. So, I am curious.
What else have you noticed?”

“I do not know where to begin.”

She looked at him from the corner of her eye and he held a look of faux-contemplation.
Finally, he started, “You prefer flower arrangements with warmer colors, even though most of
your dresses skew toward purples and blues. Along with lemonade, you dislike English tea.
You prefer biscuits with strawberry jam rather than plain. You avoid eating the macarons, but
enjoy the light finger sandwiches.”

Kate laughed in disbelief, which only encouraged the Viscount. He grinned and continued,
“And I can tell when you are unable to sneak out on a morning ride, as your demeanor is
much more restless. Your foot will not stop tapping or your hands will fiddle with your
gloves.”

“Ah, yes. Those are the mornings Newton barks when I try to escape.”

Here his grin dimmed slightly. “I have also noticed that your demeanor is more subdued on
stormy days. Perhaps…somewhat distracted. You seem to dislike the thunder.”
She stopped and unintentionally squeezed his arm.

“Should I not have —”

“No! No. It is…” Kate swallowed. “You are correct. Storms disturb me. They always have.
My father…” She was not sure why she decided to explain, but she found the story slipping
out. “He would read stories to me when I was a young girl. It would help when I could not
sleep at night. Now, since he has passed, the storms make me think of him. So. Stormy days
make me a little melancholy.”

Heat rushed along her neck and face, and she was glad for the darkness. Lord Bridgerton’s
eyes were too serious, too understanding.

“I am sorry I ever mentioned it.”

“It is alright. I am fine. In fact, I rather enjoy talking about my father as it brings forward
fond memories.”

They continued walking, and paused by the edge. “Really? I find speaking about my father is
often too difficult.”

“Ah.” She paused. “Did he…pass recently?”

“It has been over ten years since he left us. That is not why. It is…” He cleared his throat.
“With the fond memories is the loss of new ones.”

Lord Bridgerton’s gaze was unfocused and somewhat sad, and Kate’s chest squeezed tightly.
The man was not at all what she expected. He was smug and excessive, yes, but he was also
incredibly kind and thoughtful. He was a sweet man whose every action was well-
intentioned.

She feared she was falling for him.

“Come, Lord Bridgerton. I believe our first dance is starting soon.”

He blinked quickly, returning to the present. “I believe I only had a chance to claim one
dance earlier.”

“I have come to expect two dances with you at every ball, my lord. You will not leave me
wanting tonight, will you?”

At that, he smiled widely and Kate’s heart raced away.

As promised, Anthony escorted Miss Sharma to a museum panel.

The actual panel was of no significance to him, which was fortunate as it was painfully dull.
The panel was for Miss Edwina and her pursuits, both of the educational and romantic type.
Fortunately, Anthony was quite pleased at the turnout of eligible gentlemen in attendance. He
spotted the younger brothers of some of his Oxford chums. The panelists themselves were
rather smart and courteous. Yes, Miss Edwina should gain better suitors from this lot at least.

As he led Miss Sharma through the exhibition after the panelists spoke, Anthony tried not to
chuckle at the rapid-fire commentary Miss Sharma started as soon as they stood from their
seats.

“She does not seem to have any interest in that first gentleman. I wish he would walk away.”

“That would be Mr. Howards. What he lacks in self-awareness he makes up for in estate. He
is quite wealthy, despite being a second son. Good investments, apparently.”

“I suppose that is a sign of cleverness. And what about that man, over there?”

“Lord Dawsey. He is a widower with a very young son, if memory serves me well. He
married quite young as he and his wife were a love match. It has been two seasons since her
passing, poor fellow. He is just now starting to socialize again.”

Miss Sharma tutted, empathetically. “And his character? Edwina seems to be blushing at his
attention.”

“Dawsey is a good man. He often comes to events like these as he is an avid learner. It does
not surprise me that she seems to enjoy his company.”

“Oh! It seems another man is walking toward them now.”

“Oh God, best she dodge that one.”

“Why? Does he have significant debts? A seedy reputation?”

“No, no, nothing like that. He is painfully obtuse, that is all. Awful company.”

Miss Sharma bit back a laugh. They paused at a refreshments table, and he offered a ratafia
which she politely declined. Her eyes followed her sister as Miss Edwina spoke to a group of
young men. None of them nefarious, and all of them exhibiting the proper amount of nerves.

Miss Sharma fiddled with her gloves as she watched men flock to Miss Edwina.

“We can stand closer to your sister, if that would make you feel more at ease.”

“No, no. We cannot. I promised —” She bit her lip and glanced at him quickly. She shook her
head. “No. Here is fine.”

“You promised…?” He could not help but prod and was rewarded with a rather dramatic eye
roll and sigh.

“I promised Edwina that I would allow her space to talk to the men. She claims that I am too
critical of them, and it clouds her judgment. I argued that she may need to be more selective,
but Lady Danbury sided with Edwina and so here I am standing on my toes trying to assess
the men by a bowl of punch.”

“I hear the punch is excellent.”

Miss Sharma glared at him and Anthony grinned. “I know most of the men in attendance. Or
know enough of their reputations. You need not worry. They are all harmless.”

“I do not care as much for that. I can tell that they are all rather weak.”

Anthony laughed loudly at that. Miss Sharma elbowed his side, and he stifled his
amusement.

“Then why are you concerned?”

“You will disagree with my reasoning.”

“I disagree with many of your reasons yet you still share them.”

Miss Sharma looked at him closely. “Fine. I worry that my sister is too amenable. She will
say yes to show kindness. I want her to find someone she has true affection for, a love match.
His eyes should follow her and her eyes follow him. I want her to find someone who
complements her sweet demeanor. Someone who brings out the best of her.”

Her eyes were shining brightly, her attention focused solely on Edwina, while Anthony’s
attention rested solely on her.

“I do not disagree.”

“Really?” Miss Sharma scoffed. “I know how you feel about love matches, my lord. You
must think I am being rather foolish.”

“Not at all. I could never think you are foolish. You are…” A catch in his throat made him
stumble over his words, causing Miss Sharma to finally look at him.

He lowered his voice. “You are the most capable and intelligent person I have yet to meet.
You make all of us look like fools.”

Her mouth opened in surprise before she quickly hid her feelings again. “Even you, my
lord?”

She was smiling, clearly expecting an argument, but Anthony did not want her to think he
took this lightly. He needed to correct her thinking. She needed to know that his initial
promises were changing. Even if she did not reciprocate, he valued their honest rapport.

“You have made me the biggest fool, I think. For I thought I could pursue this courtship
without any affection or strong feelings. Yet, it is impossible for me to feel nothing when I
am with you.”

Miss Sharma’s face dropped, and she looked at him with caution. He swallowed.
“I apologize if that is not what you wish for in this courtship,” he said, “However, I wanted to
be honest with you. We have always been honest with one another, and if this is to go any
further I want you to know the full scope of our agreement.”

They studied one another, their setting fading into quiet background noise. He noted the way
her eyes traveled across his face, searching for any hint of insincerity.

She took a shaky breath and pressed a hand to her diaphragm, as if to steady herself. Then,
she raised her chin though her eyes were unable to hide her insecurity.

“I also…feel affection for you. I find that I enjoy spending time with you.”

Anthony smiled widely, and she chuckled at his expression.

“Is that so?” He teased, stepping a little too closely. “Would you be willing to put that in
writing?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “If you are going to look at me like that perhaps we
should drop some of the formalities. Perhaps you should call me Kate.”

His heart stuttered. He whispered her name, testing its feel on his tongue. Kate’s eyes seemed
to widen, ever so slightly, and Anthony knew he did not hide the reverence from his tone.

“Perhaps you should call me Anthony.”

They looked at each other steadily, and he wished he could press his lips against her own.

Finally, Kate replied, “Perhaps.”

At that she simply grinned and set her eyes toward her sister once again. And Anthony,
stunned still from their declarations, laughed loudly. “Minx.”

“You are smiling.”

“I was enjoying the view. Which you are now blocking.”

Anthony chuckled at her snark, and Kate allowed herself a slight smirk. She found herself
feeling much freer after their day at the museum panel. She rather liked that Anthony did the
same.

“Well, by all means, do not let me stop you from surveying your future estate.”

“You speak rather confidently, my lord.”

He lowered his voice and stood entirely too close. “I told you not to use such titles
anymore.”

“And I told you that I will not take your orders.”

Kate turned her face toward him, and she relished the evident desire on his face.

That was new as well. How openly he wanted her. How his eyes held no shame as he admired
her figure. She enjoyed his attentions, though not as much as she enjoyed his reaction to her
reciprocations. Over the last couple of weeks, Lady Danbury’s cane interrupted their calls at
least every other day. Not that it stopped them.

“Good God, Anthony. Your youngest siblings are mere meters from you. Control yourself.”

They both turned toward the deep voice, and Kate pushed back her shoulders to meet the new
faces.

“Hastings,” Anthony replied, with barely concealed annoyance. He gave the man a firm
handshake. “Nice of you to join us. I thought my sister said you would be away for
business.”

“That was the initial plan. Then, Daphne and I heard that you had invited a young lady —”

“— And we needed to meet the young woman who has claimed your heart.”

Kate blushed at the Duchess’s choice of words, and waited for Anthony to roll his eyes or
scoff. However, Anthony’s chest seemed to puff with pride as he turned toward her with an
arm outstretched.

“May I introduce you to Miss Sharma. Miss Sharma, the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.”

“A pleasure to meet you both, your graces,” Kate replied, with a curtsy. The Duchess waved
off the formality.

“You must call us Simon and Daphne. At least while the other guests are not yet at Aubrey
Hall.”

“Quite right,” Anthony interjected. “Most of all because they will soon be your siblings-in-
law.”

“Oh, will they?” Kate replied and his responding smile was rather boyish in its confidence.

“Yes. They will.”

“So very confident, Lord Bridgerton.”

“I have every reason to be, do I not?”

“Your horsemanship says otherwise.”

“Someone stop them,” Colin yelled from the stairs. “The cook has made my favorites and I
do not wish to lose my appetite.”

“Colin Bridgerton!” Lady Bridgerton admonished, turning back to Mary with a carefully
placed smile. “Apologies, Lady Mary. My children start to lose all sense of proper manners
when we have spent any more than a day at our country manor.”

Kate turned back to Anthony and lowered her voice, stepping closer. “I think I will enjoy
seeing you embrace impropriety. Viscount Bridgerton.”

He let out a deep sigh and she skirted past him and back to her mother’s side, ignoring the
bemused and disgusted expression of her younger sister.

“This is entirely your fault.”

“As if you would not have done the same to me.”

“As a gentleman —”

At that Kate let out a sharp laugh. Anthony pursed his lips, but failed to repress his own
amusement. He felt his lips twitch and he shifted himself to sit up, only to be slightly pulled
down again by the thick mud.

“Yes, you are quite the gentleman.”

They both stared at each other before bursting into a laughing fit. Anthony’s cheeks began to
strain from it, not having used such muscles in so long. At least, not before this season. That
was what surprised him most about his courtship thus far — how much fun he had with Kate.
She made him laugh and challenged him in ways that poked his competitive spirit. He
genuinely enjoyed dancing with her, watching the opera with her, all things he found tedious
and dull. Kate found joy in each of those moments and he relished in her each and every
smile.

After they both managed to stand up, Kate continued her goading. “Despite this setback, I am
determined to fare better than you in this game. Mud will not deter me.”

She struck her ball swiftly and Anthony chuckled at her perseverance. He was poised to tease
her, to convince her to cut out, when he saw where her ball landed.

The black ball laid by Father’s headstone, as if Edmund himself beckoned them forward.
Anthony felt his breath leave him, only slightly aware of Kate’s voice saying his name.

He had nearly forgotten. He had nearly forgotten the devastation he had held in his chest
every day since his father passed. Kate made him forget. Did he like that she made him
forget? He could not tell.

“Anthony?”

He leapt at Kate’s gentle touch on his shoulder. Her eyes were wide and somber, and entirely
too knowing. Anthony stepped away from her hand and directed his attention to finding his
ball.

“Right. I, uh. I suppose it is my turn, then? I do think it’d be better to aim toward the other
players rather than away, such as yourself.”
When Kate remained silent, Anthony looked up and saw her facing the headstone
thoughtfully. Dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of visiting the grave. She was
curious, and he should take her. If Aubrey Hall was to be her new home, she should be able
to explore the land. Still. He did not want her to know how many years it had been since he
had last visited. Could barely stomach kneeling before the gravesite.

Naturally, Kate surprised him.

“I am feeling rather tired. You take your shot. I will retrieve my ball and carry it to the
playing field.”

“What?”

“Or I can walk with you as you continue playing toward the rest of the wickets. I only
assume that someone will come find us soon if we are left together unchaperoned.”

“No. That is not — That would mean you forfeit.”

“I am aware.”

“You never forfeit.”

“Oftentimes, that is true. Today, that is not the case.”

“You would forfeit this game for me?”

“No. I will forfeit because I am tired, like I said no less than one minute ago.”

They stared at one another, Kate’s expression shifting from compassionate to irritated. She
huffed and clenched her fists by her side.

Oh. Yes. I adore this woman.

The realization struck him and he immediately tossed his mallet down and walked toward her
with urgency. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. He kissed her with the fervor
of his feelings for he could not say the words, not yet, but he wanted her to know. He wanted
her to see how deeply he adored her.

Then she raked her hands through his hair, and his thoughts switched to physical sensations
only. He groaned and pressed himself even closer to her form and grasped the fabric of her
dress.

After a moment, their kisses slowed and he pressed his lips softly on her lips and her jaw and
he relished in Kate’s pleased sigh.

“We must stop,” Anthony murmured, his lips still against her neck, and she hummed.

“As always — you make demands and expect me to follow.” She tugged on his hair, and his
eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. He felt her smile against his lips as she said, “I
will do as I please, sir.”
“Who am I to argue, then?” Anthony replied, his tongue skimming her bottom lip. As she
continued their kisses his hand drifted toward her bosom, and he nearly fell to his knees when
she leaned into the palm of his hand and let out a pleased moan.

Altogether too soon, they were interrupted by the thwacking of branches. They leapt apart,
and Anthony was glad he still had the mind to hide his arousal by standing behind Kate.

“This is the sound of Colin and Daphne approaching,” Colin’s voice boomed. “We see the
black and pink balls. We are in your vicinity!”

“Christ,” Anthony muttered, rubbing his forehead, and Kate laughed.

They could just make out the younger siblings walking downhill. Daphne’s eyes were averted
while Colin’s eyes were completely shut, his arms stretched before him to avoid any
obstacles.

“Mother sent us to chaperone!” Daphne called out. “And while I am empathetic to the
difficulties of a proper courtship, I would prefer to avoid seeing —”

“Good lord, Daph!” Anthony finally bellowed. “We are decent. You two are utterly
ridiculous.”

The siblings suddenly turned toward his voice and walked closer. Their jaws dropped and
Colin laughed uproariously. Daphne spoke through her own laughs.

“I am not sure this qualifies as decent, Anthony. You have mud all over yourselves.”

Colin smirked. “You might want to add more mud to yourself, Miss Sharma. Perhaps, along
the back of your dress. And the front.”

Kate blushed furiously when she looked down and could see fingerprints along her gown.
Anthony threw a handful of mud toward Colin, who only laughed as he dodged it.

The dinner had been going so well. The food was surprisingly good. Benedict was in his cups
or something of a similar sort. It was all very amusing. Then came Lady Danbury’s meddling
behavior. When the Dowager had insisted on Anthony’s toast, Kate’s stomach plummeted to
the ground.

Kate knew a proposal was imminent. The courtship was even more than she could have ever
hoped — Anthony was kind and thoughtful, along with being unfairly handsome. He made
her laugh. Their passion sent a thrill down her spine, as evidenced by their kiss during Pall
Mall. He genuinely liked her, and she liked him.

When Anthony stood and looked at her, glass in hand, Kate should have felt ecstatic. She
should have felt happy. Yet, all Kate felt was pure panic. She widened her eyes at him as he
spoke, willing him to understand which she could not even articulate herself.

She watched as he swung his gaze from the table toward her. He stumbled over his words,
ever so slightly, as he met her eyes.
“Um. Well it is…” He paused and Kate felt her panic rise. Oh God. He is going to do it. He is
proposing.

The crease between his brows deepened as he continued to study her until his face conveyed
understanding. He nodded his head and Kate let out a long breath. Her shoulders dropped in
relief as Anthony had continued speaking.

“It is an honor to have made the acquaintance of the Sharma family this season.” He raised
his glass and looked at the table. “To many more seasons spent together.”

Everyone clinked their glasses. As soon as he sat back down, Kate reached underneath the
table and squeezed his hand. He squeezed hers in return, his eyes full of compassion, only
making her feel worse.

The guilt only multiplied as the night progressed. The brunt of the mothers’ stares the rest of
the evening weighed heavily, even from afar. As soon as the last course was cleared, Kate
excused herself and fled to her room.

She nearly flung herself onto the nearest settee once the door closed. Her heart was racing
and she berated her mind for being consumed with irrational nerves. Pressing a hand over her
chest, she closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. She focused on the rise and fall of her
breath and slowly counted to ten.

“Dearest?” A knock interrupted. “It’s Mama. May I come in?”

Kate swallowed and sat up straight. Willing her voice to remain steady, she answered, “Yes,
of course. Come in.”

Mary gave her a gentle smile and sat beside her. Without any prodding, Mary tucked Kate’s
head onto her shoulder and rubbed her back. Kate’s eyes nearly welled with tears, her mama’s
kindheartedness entirely too much. Before Kate could speak, Mary brushed some curls away
from her face and said, “Let me help you get ready for bed. And if you would like to talk,
then you may.”

They moved to the vanity and Mary started removing the many pins from Kate’s coiffure.
While she removed her gloves and undid the clasps of her jewelry, Kate tried to find a place
to start.

“I do not know what is wrong with me, Mama.”

“Kate, darling,” Mary tutted, “There is nothing wrong with you. The Viscount will certainly
propose, and —”

“He was willing to propose tonight, Mama! I do not know if it was his original intention at
the start of the evening, but he is ready. He only stopped because he could see that I did not
want it.”

A potent silence surrounded them, Mary’s hands still in Kate’s hair. Quietly, Mary replied, “If
you wish to leave, we will leave. I know I encouraged the courtship, but I will support your
decision no matter what.”

“No, no. That is the crux of it, all. Mama — I do wish to marry Anthony. Very much so. He
is…the most marvelous man I have ever met.”

Mary’s eyes brightened significantly, yet Kate only shook her head.

“I should have been happy that he was going to propose. I should be…counting down to the
moment he gets down on one knee! And yet…” Kate’s throat tightened and she lowered her
eyes to her hands. “All I see is fear.”

“Fear of what?”

Twisting her fingers even more, Kate took a heaving breath. Fear of what — she wished she
knew what to point toward.

“I do not want to disappoint him, Mama.”

At her omission, Kate could no longer hold back her tears. She quickly wiped at her cheeks,
embarrassed, while Mary sat on the floor in front of her.

“You must let it out, otherwise it will only feel worse. Let yourself cry, Kathani.”

And so she did. The tears flowed freely and she let Mary hold her hands and wipe her cheeks
with her handkerchief.

“It is a very powerful thing to meet someone and feel that they know you. In a way unlike
any other,” Mary whispered. Kate looked at her mama and attempted to hold back a sob.
“Powerful and bloody terrifying.”

A sharp laugh came out and Kate looked at Mary with surprise. “Mama! I have never heard
you swear.”

“True love, with all of its beauty, is also a terror that requires swearing,” Mary chuckled. She
shrugged. “Apologies.”

Kate giggled before laughing harder, while Mary stood and continued undoing Kate’s hair.
She finally felt calm enough to think more rationally. Kate began taking off her jewelry, both
of them working in silence.Once Kate’s hair was down, Mary started to comb through any
tangles. “Is that how you feel? When you are with Lord Bridgerton?”

“What do you mean?” Kate asked.

Mary smiled softly. “Like you know him, and he you, unlike any other.”

She thought back to their moment during Pall Mall. The anguish in Anthony’s eyes when he
looked toward his father’s gravesite. The deep empathy she felt in return. His evident relief
when she offered to cut out of the game. She did not think she would ever find that with
another person. Kate did not know it truly existed outside of tales.
Meeting Mary’s eyes in the mirror, Kate nodded.

“Well, then. I think you know what to do, Kathani.”

“Where is Kate?” His siblings all looked up from their places in the drawing room. They all
looked at one another until Colin spoke for the group.

“We assumed she was with you? How should we know?”

Anthony’s brow furrowed deeply and he felt a stone of nervousness in his chest. Lady Mary
and Miss Edwina had gone to the village to shop with his mother. Lady Danbury was still in
her room with the intention of breaking her fast alone. At first he thought Kate was in her
room, only to find it empty.

“She is not in her room, nor is she in here.”

“As those are the only two locations in existence, I am as stumped as you are, Brother,”
Benedict answered, glibly.

There was a low roll of thunder and Anthony quickly stepped toward the window. A summer
storm had just begun and he prayed that Kate was somewhere in this house. Surely she would
not —

“My lord!”

He turned toward the alarmed voice and saw a footman looking rather pale. The stone of
worry turned into a boulder.

“What is it?” Anthony asked sharply.

“It is Miss Sharma, my lord. She, well. She went for a ride at dawn this morning — the
stablehand warned her that a storm was approaching, but she insisted…”

Anthony closed his eyes.

“This is entirely too much fuss! I am fine to walk. Please!”

His eyes flew open. Kate.

The footman grimaced. “We thought it best to warn you before you saw —”

Anthony did not spare the man another glance before racing out of the room and toward her
voice. He vaguely heard his siblings follow him out of the room, but he paid them no
attention. All he could focus on was Kate. Kate, who sat by the open doors of the terrace,
drenched to the bone. His Kate — with a long cut along her jaw and another through the
sleeve of her dress.

Kate. Clearly frustrated and annoyed by the fretting around her. The stubborn woman.
“What the hell happened?”

Her head spun toward him and she frowned, deeply. Strands of her hair hung limply along
her cheeks and he wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and place her into a warm bath.

“I do not think this situation requires swearing in front of your younger siblings.”

“Kate," Anthony warned, but before he could continue his line of inquiry, a maid rushed into
the room with a short stool. She placed it in front of Kate then held her leg and delicately
propped it up by her ankle.

His eyes nearly fell out. “Dear, God.”

All of the servants quickly backed away as he strode toward her. Anthony pulled up the
heavy, rain-soaked hems of all her layers and saw that her right ankle was beginning to swell
terribly. Before he could begin to process her injured ankle, Anthony noticed that Kate was
shivering quite severely. He cupped her face in his hands, taking in the blueness around her
lips and the warmth of a fever along her neck.

Immediately, Anthony snapped into action. He did in fact scoop her up into his arms,
ignoring Kate’s protests.

“Colin, call for a surgeon immediately.”

His brother ran off without protest, Anthony walked briskly toward the stairs while directing
nearby servants along with his siblings.

“We will need a warm bath prepared as quickly as possible. Run ahead and make sure the fire
in her room is ready for her. We need to gather as many spare blankets and cloth to dry her
off, as well as a fresh set of clothing.”

“Lord Bridgerton.”

Anthony glanced over his shoulder. “Eloise, gather whatever books that will occupy Kate’s
mind while she is healing. Daphne, see to it that any shawls or thick dressing robes are
brought to her room.”

“Anthony.”

“Gregory and Hyacinth, take care of that beast of hers. Benedict, go to my study and start
sorting through my correspondence. Prioritize the time-sensitive ones. You will be taking on
some of the responsibilities for the rest of the week.”

“Anthony! You must stop!"

“We will stop once we are in your room.”

“I am not an invalid!”
Anthony marched into her room and deposited her gently by the fire where two maids stood
beside a chair, stool, and a pile of blankets. He stood there and watched as one maid stoked
the fire and the other began undoing Kate’s bun and squeezing the water out her thick hair.

They hovered awkwardly for a moment and he demanded to know why they stopped.

“They cannot undress me while you are in the room, Anthony,” Kate replied, drolly. He
nearly replied, some sort of snark that essentially implied propriety be damned, when Kate’s
whole body shivered hard. She squeezed her eyes tightly, and his chest and throat tightened in
concern.

He knelt beside her chair and took a hold of her face once more.

“You are no burden or nuisance. Now is not the time to be stubborn. Please, Kate. For me. I
must —” Anthony’s breath stuttered and he brought her face closer to his. “I must know that
you will be alright. Please.”

Her face softened. He knew he must have looked crazed, as he had no energy to try and hide
it. Kate finally nodded. “As you wish. As an apology for my recklessness.”

“Hush.” Anthony pulled back and took her hands into his own. He pressed his lips against her
knuckles. “We can argue about your recklessness later, darling. When you are feeling better.”

After he left her room so that she may change and bathe, he went to check on any word from
the doctor. He waited and paced, stopping only to relay the incident to those who were absent
that morning. While writing a set of instructions for Benedict and his solicitor, Anthony
broke a quill in his state of stress.

Someone knocked on the door and he sighed, dropping his broken quill by his papers. “You
may enter.”

Daphne walked in, leaving the door ajar as she did. “The doctor has arrived. He is examining
Kate as we speak.”

Anthony shot up from his chair. “Is everything alright? Has her fever worsened?”

“He has only just started. We can walk up there together and find out.”

He shrugged his jacket back on and searched his desk for his preferred note-taking pen and
his small notebook.

“I do not think you will need to take many notes, Anthony.”

“Best to be prepared in case he specifies when her ankle must be tended to, or some sort. Ah
— here we are.”

Placing both in his jacket pocket, Anthony stalked out of the room and Daphne hurried along
to keep in step. “Anthony, slow down! You will not get any news faster by speeding. The
doctor will not even be done with his exam.”
“Daphne, please.”

His pace did not slow until he saw the doors to Kate’s room were still closed. He huffed. The
doctor would surely kick him out of the room if he were to barge in, so Anthony began
pacing in front of the doors instead.

“Anthony, you must try and calm yourself. I know the injuries looked quite severe this
morning, but with some washing and bandages, you will see they are not so bad.”

“Not so bad?” Anthony repeated, staring at her in disbelief. Daphne sighed.

“Yes. At least she is awake and speaking.”

He took a few shallow breaths, his worry falling to the side of the panic he had been trying to
quell since he left Kate with the maids. He could feel himself unravel as he tried to
comprehend how Daphne could possibly think her injuries were not so bad.

“Anthony. You must admit you tend to overreact when one of us falls ill. When Fran had a
mild cold two winters ago you were nearly beside yourself.”

“You think that I want to feel this way?” Anthony countered. “That I am completely unaware
of my irrationalities?”

Daphne frowned and Anthony scoffed incredulously. He continued pacing again and rubbed
both sides of his temple. “This is precisely why I did not want to have love in my marriage.
This is why I knew that keeping love out of my pursuit of a wife was the wisest course. And
now, here I am, feeling mad with worry because the woman I love is in there with a few cuts
and bruises and a twisted ankle. I am aware that she will likely be fine, but all I feel is the
need to pay a surgeon to reside in a guest cottage for every day that Kate is bedridden and
forbid her from ever getting on another horse again!”

“You did not want love in your marriage…because of the pain of loving someone so much.”

Anthony looked toward his sister and saw an understanding dawn on her face. Her eyes
tracked his expression and her face softened. Daphne stepped closer and took one of his
hands into her own.

“Anthony…you are so, so daft sometimes.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. “Why are you here again?”

“Anthony!” Daphne chuckled. “I am sorry, it is just so… you to believe that something like
love is a logical problem, solved simply by cutting it out like some sort of equation. Your
heart does not work like that, Brother.”

“This does not make me feel any better, Daph.”

“I know for there is nothing for it — love is madness! It is passion!” Daphne took a cautious
step closer. “And…it is solace. It is the comfort of knowing you will have another person
who knows you. Who sees you, as you are, without any judgment. Love is feeling safe when
you argue — knowing you can share all of your twisted thoughts aloud, and the other person
will still look at you like you have hung the moon. They will protect you, stand by you. It is
having a true partner through every milestone in life.”

Anthony looked toward the closed doors. A partnership. That was what he told Kate he
wanted all those months ago. He nearly laughed at the memory, for he could not have
fathomed the truth of a partnership with Kate Sharma.

“It does not go away, then?” Anthony asked. “The consuming worry for the other person?”

“No,” Daphne thought. “But, it becomes easier. Eventually, the amount of happy days will
outnumber the days like today. And memories of difficult days always return to the day you
found peace with one another once more. And the consuming worry is balanced by the
consuming love you share, as well.”

But was it worth it?

Anthony swallowed, still uncertain, when the doors opened to reveal the doctor’s face.

“Ah. Lord Bridgerton. Just the man I was looking for!” The doctor gestured for them to enter
the room, which now also held Lady Mary, Miss Edwina, and Lady Danbury.

Anthony immediately went to Kate.

She had more bandages on the left side of her body that he had anticipated. Her right ankle
was wrapped and elevated, placed on a pillow. Yet, his attention was grabbed by her eyes and
the turn of her mouth.

She was frustrated, looking toward the doctor with unconcealed aggravation.

However, while the surgeon reported the extent of her injuries toward Anthony and Anthony
only, Kate’s lips remained pursed. Pursed very tightly.

It was the tactic she used when holding her tongue around Edwina’s suitors after their
excursion to the museum panel. While her younger sister had gone on and on about the men
she liked, Kate had pursed her lips just as tightly and smiled through the commentary.

And now, here she was pursing her lips for him. Because he had bared his crazed worry.
Because she saw the way he looked at his father’s gravesite not two days ago.

She cared for him enough to purse her lips, to let him have this relief.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Anthony said, cutting the man off mid-sentence. “You may take your
leave.”

They all looked at one another, the doctor especially confused. Daphne cleared her throat and
nodded, herding him toward the door and seating herself far enough away to give them all
space.
Anthony kneeled beside Kate’s bed and held onto her left hand, careful not to disturb the
bandages. She released a deep sigh and looked at him expectantly.

“Well? What is your diagnosis?” Kate asked with evident irony. “Shall I remain in this bed
for weeks on end?”

He smiled and raised her palm to his mouth. Anthony kissed it softly before placing it on his
cheek.

A throat cleared behind him, and he heard Lady Mary speak.

“Come, Edwina. We will relay the information from the surgeon to Lady Bridgerton.”

“I shall go with you,” Lady Danbury added. “Since Lord Bridgerton no longer seems to care
for maintaining decorum.”

He felt her cane slap his calf and Anthony glanced over his shoulder. Lady Danbury arched
her brow sharply.

“The door will remain open, Viscount.”

“Of course, Lady Danbury.”

Anthony watched as they walked out of the room before turning back to Kate, pressing his
cheek against her palm once again.

“Thank you for dealing with that dreadful doctor.”

Kate raised her eyebrows before her face settled into empathy. “You are welcome.” Her lips
curled into a grin. “He was rather awful. The maids had to fix his bandages and he refused to
answer any of our questions. I thought Lady Danbury was going to wallop him with her
cane.”

She leaned her head further upon her pillow, moving her hand out of his grasp and to his
other hand on the bed.

“You are alright? Truly?”

Her hair splayed around her as she nodded. Anthony’s heart started to slow as Kate’s fingers
caressed his knuckles. She was here. Alive.

“I am a fool, Kate.”

She laughed. “Yes you are. And what of it?”

He held her hand in both of his own and summoned the courage he needed.

“I once told you that I did not care for love in my marriage. That marriage was strictly about
duty and family. The underlying truth is…well. I was afraid of losing you. Afraid of the
wreckage brought on by grief.”
Anthony kept his eyes on their hands, encouraged by Kate’s gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“My mother once said my father was the air she breathed, and I vowed to never succumb to
that kind of frailty. I could not do that to my family, not when we had already lost the best
man to ever live. Yet…I am here with you and — I understand that it is not a matter of
whether or not love is worth the pain. It is a matter of whether or not I am strong enough to
love. To be loved. And, frankly, I am not sure if the answer is yes, but I am determined to
find that strength because I cannot imagine my life without you. I — I love you, Kate. I love
you with everything I am.”

Eyes watering, he kept his head ducked down, but Kate removed her hand from his grip and
went to his chin. She lifted his gaze to meet her own, and Anthony relished the comfort of her
hand against his cheek once more. Her eyes were equally watery as his own.

“I know I am imperfect,” he said softly, “But I will humble myself before you for you make
me want to be a better man.”

Quickly, Kate shook her head and pressed her thumb against his lips. “You are already a
wonderful man, Anthony. You are imperfect for we are all imperfect. It does not mean you
are lacking, my love. You are everything I could ever want. I love all of you.”

His face went slack in surprise. “You love —?”

“Yes, of course I do,” Kate interrupted, chuckling. She rubbed her thumb on his cheek and
smiled. “Do you think I would be here if I did not love you?”

He let out a sharp laugh, the beginnings of bliss clouding his mind. “I suppose not. You
would have jumped on the fastest horse — my horse, most likely, and ridden all the way back
to Mayfair.”

“Oh, most definitely your horse.”

They both started laughing, out of true amusement or disbelief he could not say. But it did not
matter. She loved him. And he loved her. He knelt onto the floor and placed his hand over
hers, moving it to his chest so she may feel how it beat so strongly for her.

“Kathani Sharma,” Anthony whispered, “Will you marry me?”

More tears sprung from her eyes. “You realize there is not a day that will go by where you
will not vex me.”

“Is that a promise, my love?”

She closed her hand around the lapel of his waistcoat and dragged closer until his lips were
nearly on hers. He felt the whisper of her yes against his lips before kissing her deeply, his
hands carefully avoiding any of her injuries.

They kissed and kissed, Anthony only pulling away when he worried their tears of joy would
mar the bandages near her jaw.
“Lord Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury’s voice boomed. They both startled, though only moving a
few inches apart. “It is entirely too quiet at the moment. When I enter momentarily, you
better be in that chair with your hands to yourself!”

“Before you enter again, please tell a servant to bring some champagne!” Anthony replied.
“We have an engagement to celebrate.”

Kate despised staying in bed. She despised being waited on hand and foot when she was
perfectly capable of doing it herself.

But, Kate loved Anthony. She loved his big heart and found his hovering to be rather sweet.
Kate was in love and was loved in return. She was engaged to a viscount. Any fears she had
about disappointing him or not being enough faded with each day.

Anthony may have understood her unlike any other, but she found that she did not mind. For
being loved by Anthony was scary, yes, but it was also bloody beautiful.
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!