Chapter Text
Nothing passed between us.
Kate could not stop thinking about those words- the moment in question and her conflicting feelings about the man who had invaded every facet of her life.
Anthony Bridgerton. Lord Bridgerton. The Viscount she needed to forget.
Each time she thought of him and played the moment back in her head, the greater the flicker of anger grew, building to something she was terrified to let out.
Something happened and it was utterly infuriating that he denied the truth of that. It was as if the thought of wanting her was so regretful that pretending it never occurred was the only way for a man of his ego to process it.
He was wrong when he accused her of hating him. But now, she wondered, maybe she did.
As much as she longed to, she certainly couldn’t stop thinking of him. The feelings vacillated between desire, wistful longing that things could have been different, and rage at how he had made a mess of all their lives. Kate was furious at him- and a little at herself for not telling Edwina sooner. Maybe she could have prevented this.
Her inaction had doomed herself to a sad life as a lonely spinster and her sister to a loveless marriage with the disaster of a man Kate… cared for.
She couldn’t love him, shouldn’t love him. And yet, the word had been popping up in her mind more and more. Love. An impossibility she knew, but every day it seemed harder to pretend otherwise.
Anthony Bridgerton might not be the only one in denial; she was more than capable– numbing herself to the pain, lying to herself along with her sister.
Now, it felt like she was sleepwalking through her life; going through the motions and forcing a smile as Edwina excitedly looked forward to her marriage. Her beloved sister was getting married to a man who would take care of her and support her mother, securing the future she had worried about since her father had died. She should be happy for her; instead, the guilt of her true feelings was eating away at her.
Never before had she resented Edwina in any way. All she had ever felt was love and the desire to give her the life she deserved. Edwina deserved to be Viscountess. Edwina deserved Anthony Bridgerton and the life he would give her.
Kate did not.
Edwina deserved the world. It had been a fact of life since they were children. Edwina was the nice sister– the pretty one with delicate features and an open heart, easily able to manoeuvre any social situation, charming all she met with her sweetness.
Kate wasn’t; she wasn’t any of those things. No one showered her with compliments or even called her beautiful. On occasion, she had been referred to as pretty, but her harsh personality forced even minor compliments to quickly disappear. Even in her youth, Kate never had use for nonsense, the polite platitudes wasted on people who didn’t deserve her respect. As she grew up, the list of people she admired grew short. Every man she met let her down with the failings of their gender that seemed too common. And women could be just as terrible to each other.
All her life she was sharp, her features and inner self. Mary had once referred to her as an acquired taste. It suited; the understanding that no one would ever be interested in truly knowing her, growing to understand and love her.
It was easier that way, dooming herself to an independent life, telling herself she never wanted more than that. She would be content as an aunt. Hearing about her nieces and nephews in letters that took six months to arrive. Extricating herself from their lives as if she didn’t belong.
Why did he have to keep looking at her? Even now, from a distance, he watched. Her life would be much simpler if he could leave her be– perhaps cast those eyes towards his intended instead of boring into her with an intensity that was entirely inappropriate.
Nothing passed between us.
Was he being needlessly cruel or in severe denial? She didn’t understand him; he had set his sights on Edwina, pursued her relentlessly, but then he’d told Kate that she mattered. That what she wanted mattered. How did he go from telling her that and challenging her on her feelings– practically daring her to let him kiss her– to pushing past her to declare himself to Edwina and ask the question she’d been dreading hearing.
Miss Edwina Sharma. Will you marry me?
The feeling of hope she had felt upon seeing him, shattering her as he corrected her greeting. It was for Edwina. It was all for Edwina.
Lord Bridgerton had won, but he’d hurt her along the way. He couldn’t merely bask in the satisfaction of his win, he’d had to make a fool of her as well.
Kate could feel him watching even as she tried to focus on her companion. Mr. Dorset was perfectly amiable, even an enjoyable partner; for a few minutes, she was even distracted from the brooding viscount watching from across the lake.
She found herself wondering what her life would be if she stayed here. If she put a dance card on her wrist, it would put out the signal that she was on the marriage mart, seeking her own match. Would anyone show an interest?
From the glare Dorest was being met with, if anyone did, it would infuriate Lord Bridgerton. It almost felt worth it. Torturing him like he has tormented her.
It was what he deserved.
Nothing passed between them. What he said, it had been nonsense; he had to have known that. He’d doomed them to unhappiness, the trio of them even if Edwina would never know the reason.
A petty, nagging fear kept rising within her– maybe she was wrong. What if he grew to love her sister? He had chosen her for a reason. That was what she wanted- for Edwina to be happy. Even if it was with someone she cared for.
It would be selfish to feel otherwise. And Kate was many things, but she’d always prided herself on her selflessness.
Bitterness rose in her throat, maybe it was time to be a little selfish. Edwina had her happy ending, Kate could cling to her secret misery, a blanket of truth that no one would bother to see. Edwina would never know.
The curse and blessing of living your life for another person, no one ever managed to see her. Truly see her. Care for her. She wouldn’t allow it.
Sometimes she wondered what her life would be like now if her Appa hadn’t died. How she would be different. Maybe a little less broken, with a smidge more hope. A potential future she felt certain of. The day he had died, all her childhood dreams of fairy tales washed away and were replaced with determination to see her mother and sister through to the happy life they deserved.
Mary and Edwina may have not seen her as less than family, but Kate never forgot that she was a half-sister, a stepdaughter. Her father had died and it was her responsibility to take care of them. She owed them that. And she’d completed her task; despite her opposition to the match, her sister would be wed to a wealthy viscount, her mother’s future was secure.
For the first time in years– since that day long ago when she realised her father’s health would never improve, she wondered what she wanted.
As she watched a blissfully ignorant Edwina heading towards her, followed by a pouty-looking Lord Bridgerton, a sense of resolve came over her.
Kate wanted Anthony Bridgerton. She loathed him at this moment but she wanted him. And he… chose to push her aside and propose to her sister. But still, he was looking at her with this perverse desire she found infuriating. He chose Edwina. Not Kate. Never Kate.
But now, perhaps she could make her own choice. Choose to be content. And if that happened to bother the viscount, that was only a benefit. One that would bring herself a small measure of satisfaction.
When Lord Bridgerton pushed Dorset aside and asked for her hand, it furthered her resolve to extricate him from her life. She accepted with chilly courtesy, snatching her hand away the moment her foot hit the ground. Kate ignored the betrayed expression on his face and moved around him, determined to focus her attention on Mr. Dorset. She refused to play his game any longer. Lord Bridgerton would soon be her brother-in-law and she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt her.
She would move on; Mr. Dorset may not make her blood boil and stomach flip like Lord Briderton, but she got the sense that he wouldn’t stifle her spirit, that they could have a marriage of contentment. Never love, but it would be a marriage that suited her as well as Edwina suited the viscount.
With her claims of desiring independence, for the first time she found herself thinking that a life partner wasn’t a burden, that it could be a respite. A lifeline that allowed her to have her own family.
So, when Mister Dorset asked if he could call on her today, the only answer she could give was ‘yes’. She tried her best to dull herself to Edwina’s squeal of delight and the glare she felt emanating from Lord Bridgerton.
She was determined, this would work.
Passion would fade, but a kinship based on mutual respect could be long-lasting, an ending that could suit her.
The sting of Kate’s rejection had left him feeling irritable, bitter– despite knowing it was his own bloody fault. Seeing her with Dorset, wearing the ring his father had given her mother, her laughter across the park… It deepened the ache that had been building in his chest since the day he met her. It was proving to be an impossibility– staying away from her, even when he tried- that pull could not be ignored.
The painful part was knowing that she felt it too. Each time they touched, she left an imprint on him, her familiar scent of lilies haunted him.
Proposing to Edwina was supposed to be the end of whatever it was he felt for Kate. Instead, he was unable to think of anything besides the sister of his betrothed- even as Edwina simpered at him, polite and undistracting.
Thoughts filled with Kate, Anthony sat stiffly; feeling awkward in his home with the stranger who was to be his wife. Now that it was official and he no longer needed to win her over or battle her sister for her hand, he didn’t know what to say to her. With any luck, they would spend their marriage surrounded by Bridgerton’s and very little time alone together.
He glanced at his tea– milk and no sugar, perfectly prepared by Edwina who was sitting in the drawing room with him, chaperoned by his Mother.
Anthony couldn’t think of a topic to discuss with her other than the weather. Or tea. Or her sister. He clenched his fist at the thought of Dorset calling on Kate. What was Kate doing now? Was it appropriate to inquire?
“How do you like your tea?” he finally asked, wondering how long he had to stay there with her before she returned to Danbury House.
“Milk and sugar, my lord,” she answered. Every word Edwina spoke was with a serene tone, always perfectly amiable. The perfect wife to serve his tea, host events for the Bridgerton family– to not be loved by her husband.
He nodded.
Silence returned. He looked over at his mother embroidering on the other side of the room– eager for her to jump in, distract his bride with questions, save him from the awkwardness. But she remained quiet.
This was to be his life. His eyes moved back to Edwina and saw nervous excitement in her eyes. She gazed at him as if she was smitten- as if they were a love match, not a match of duty chosen by the Queen.
He knew he didn’t have to base his choice of bride on the Queen’s good word, but it had made the decision easier. It was validation that she was suitable, determined by the most distinguished woman in the UK.
“Miss Edwina.”
“Yes.” She looked at him sweetly, always meeting his eyes with tender devotion. He wondered if they would ever fight. If he would ever care enough to fight with her about anything; if she would ever dare to disagree with him. She was so well mannered he thought there was a chance that she would not.
Words were caught in his throat. He should say something. Anything to distract from the tension in the air. The room was too warm, he wanted the fresh air; to ride away and find Kate in the woods.
Thankfully, he was saved by the youngest Bridgertons.
“Anthony,” Hyacinth shrieked, bursting into the room and running for him. “Gregory stole my book.”
“It was my book, I had it first,” Gregory huffed, following her with the book clinging tightly to his chest.
“You lie,” Hyacinth rushed at him, grabbing at the item. “Daphne gave it to me. And it’s a book on botany. You don’t even like flowers.”
“Shut up. It’s for-”
“Children,” Violet commanded. “Leave the book here and go to your rooms. Neither of you are being appropriate at the moment. Especially for company.”
“She doesn’t count. Anthony’s marrying her,” Hyacinth huffed.
Gregory stomped his feet in reaction, looking much younger than his thirteen years.
“What was that?” Anthony asked, a little bemused.
Gregory sighed. “I don’t know, I’m agitated. Hyacinth is aggravating.”
Anthony hid a smile. “Both of you are, but you’re siblings so apologise and go to your rooms as Mother instructed.”
“I’m sorry,” Gregory said softly, kicking at the floor.
Hyacinth nodded, a little defiant as she made her own apology.
Anthony gestured for her to come closer and she hugged him tightly. He met Gregory’s eye and nodded, the boy rushed into his arms.
“What a nice family moment,” Benedict said with a grin, entering the room with Colin following close behind.
“It was until you arrived,” Anthony grunted.
Hyacinth and Gregory reluctantly left as Benedict fell over onto the sofa. Colin bee-lined it for the pastries, cramming a tea cake into his mouth like he’d been starving for days.
It was typical Colin, they'd be lucky if there was anything left for Eloise when she returned from her shopping excursion.
As Benedict rambled about the joys of the modern art scene, Eloise entered, loudly moaning and plopping down on a settee. “Why is every man in this town completely useless? Even when you want them around, they flee like children.”
Benedict bopped her on the head and settled in beside her. “What has our species done to disappoint you this day?”
“It began this morning when-”
A loud clanging noise rang out from up the stairs. Violet pursed her lips. “Excuse me, I should see to that. Eloise, don’t leave.” She looked over at Anthony and Edwina with suspicion, as if anything untoward would possibly happen between them in her absence.
Anthony shook his head. “It’s fine, mother,” he said flatly. His mother nodded, exiting the room swiftly.
“Are there more biscuits?” Colin asked, his eyebrows shifting towards the empty tray.
Anthony glared, not answering.
“Fine. I’ll do it myself.” He begrudgingly rang for service as if the act was physically painful. Anthony didn’t understand how he managed to survive travelling the globe without a servant. He loved his brother, but he was completely without use.
Benedict clasped his hands together, looking annoyingly amused. “I believe you had something vexing to discuss, dear Sister.”
“Oh, nothing too dreadful. At least in the grand scheme. I was cornered today by Cressida Cowper. Lord Fife and his family gave me the direct cut when they passed by. Even they wanted nothing to do with the mess, and so I had to stand there fielding her passive-aggressive attempts at insults because of that man’s lack of a spine.”
“I don’t see how that was his responsibility.” Benedict looked confused.
“A true gentleman- if they actually existed- would have noticed a lady in distress and come to her aid.”
“Ah,” Benedict grinned. “But what if that lady is an independent free spirit such as yourself? Isn’t it better to let her save herself in these scenarios? I would think you would take offence to a man rescuing you from a situation that you were more than capable of handling yourself.”
Eloise scoffed. “I wouldn't be as bothered, but the temptation to smack her across her face exceeded any fears I had about seeming womanly.”
“You say womanly as if it was an insult. I find women to be quite powerful and enticing.” Benedict sighed, licking his lips.
“Gross.” Eloise rolled her eyes. Anthony did the same. Benedict had no sense of propriety.
“Shocking you haven’t found a wife yet,” Colin said with a playful sneer.
“It’s not as if I’m looking. But believe me, when I find the right one, I’ll know- unlike some of my siblings.” Benedict said it lightly, but whether it was pointed towards himself or Colin, or both, Anthony was unsure. “I rather like the idea of being swept away to the altar.”
“I’m far too young to even consider matrimony,” Colin suddenly said.
“Me, as well,” Eloise smirked to the groans of her brothers.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a spinster,” Eloise said abruptly. “Miss Sharma seems quite content. It doesn’t help that the men of the town are all lacking in quality. Those in the room included.”
“You wound us, sister.” Benedict pushed his shoulder against his sister, who punched him in the arm in response.
“Not that the women are much better, all cloying and desperate to marry a man of nobility like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. All you men want is a spineless doll to bear your children and look pretty on your arm. Brain optional.”
“You aren’t wrong sister.” Colin snickered. “It’s one of the many reasons I choose to abstain from the absurdity of the marriage mart.”
“Oh, and what of your proposal, Miss Thompson?” Anthony gave him a pointed look, barely restraining his amused condescension.
“A mistake,” Colin said with a frown. “You should know about that better than anyone, Anthony.”
Anthony startled, mouth dropping a bit at the accusation.
“Colin!” Eloise chastised, flicking her gaze pointedly over to Miss Edwina, sitting on the chaise, head down, having been completely forgotten about by every Bridgerton in the room.
Colin at the very least looked a bit regretful of the remark. “Apologies Miss Edwina. I meant no offence. We may get a little out of hand with our ribbing at times, but I promise it’s all in good fun.”
Edwina offered a small reassuring smile. “It is not an issue, Mr Bridgerton-”
“Call me Colin, we are to be family soon.”
Edwina nodded. “I should be going, my mother will be expecting me soon.” She stood, barely looking at the group as she went to leave the room.
Anthony felt like he should say something but his throat felt closed, he didn’t know if he could speak even if he knew the right words to say. Instead, he nodded as her gaze drifted by him.
The door closed and Anthony turned to his siblings with a glare. “Nice work. Thanks for that… All of you.”
Eloise waved her hands dismissively. “It’s not my fault.”
“You can’t be serious Eloise,” Colin gaped. “You basically called her a vapid, money-hungry debutant.”
“I didn’t mean her… exactly. At least I didn’t say Anthony was making a mistake by marrying her.”
Colin pursed his lips. “I did no such thing. It’s well known that our eldest brother makes an ample amount of mistakes. I could have been referring to any of them.”
“But you weren’t,” Benedict pointed out.
“Of course not,” Colin answered with a glint in his eye. “But I’m sure she didn’t know that.”
Eloise's voice followed, “Colin you are many things but subtle isn’t one of them.”
Anthony ran his hands through his hair, a low frustrated groan emanating from him.
Benedict put an arm on his shoulder. “You alright brother?”
Anthony snapped his gaze to Benedict. “Just wondering which of you to kill first.”
Eloise sighed. “We truly didn’t mean any harm. It’s just, she doesn’t exactly fit in with the-”
Anthony cut her off. “Do you think that isn’t your fault?” Anthony’s eyes burned, moving across his siblings- not seeing the level of guilt in their eyes that he expected.
Colin shrugged. “You chose her Anthony, doesn’t putting up with us come with the job of Viscountess?”
Anthony couldn’t quite believe the selfishness of his family sometimes. He picked Edwina for them, to take care of the family and this is how they treated her. He took a breath, steadying his reaction. “Next time, please make an effort to be kinder to her.”
Anthony sighed, fatigued and bitter; not even knowing who to lash out at. Instead, he followed Edwina’s lead and left, retreating to his study where solace and liquor awaited.
Miss Edwina would make an incredible Viscountess Bridgerton, right? She was perfect, it’s what he wanted…
Perfection.
It’s what his family needed. The perfect viscountess.
Not Kate, messy, outspoken and capable of creating every feeling he didn’t want. He’d chosen his bride and she was perfect in every way; even if his family didn’t approve.
This was better. Once she was officially a Bridgerton, they would accept her. There would be no other option.
They would learn to love her as Anthony never could.