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Chapter Text

Kate stared out the carriage window as the city blurred by. She, her mother, Edwina, and Lady Danbury were heading home from the Featherington ball, but Kate’s mind was still in the garden, turning over what had happened. Lord Anthony Bridgerton had proposed, and now she was betrothed—betrothed—but how was she to tell her family?

“Kate? Are you alright?” Edwina asked, her brow creased in concern.

“Yes.” Kate tried to steady her voice. “Just tired from the ball.”

Her stomach twisted, knowing the truth would stir emotions far more than exhaustion could explain. It twisted tighter when she caught her mother’s worried gaze—and positively knotted when Lady Danbury raised a brow, looking amused, as if she knew everything. Did she see us in the garden? Kate thought, heat rising in her cheeks.

It had to be said. "Lord Bridgerton asked me to marry him."

Lady Mary let out a breath of relief, a knowing smile passing between her and Lady Danbury. Kate barely caught the flicker of emotion in Edwina’s expression—a quick flash of something that stung far more than she was prepared for. Was it anger? Hurt? Or something else entirely?

"Does this mean you’ll be staying in England?" Edwina whispered.

Kate nodded. “Yes.”

“And… are you happy with his proposal?” Edwina asked, a little more softly now.

“Yes,” Kate answered, her smile blooming with a tenderness she hadn’t expected. “Very happy.”

Edwina pulled her into a warm embrace. "I am happy for you, Didi. And I’m happy for us. I didn’t want you to leave."

The sincerity in Edwina’s voice was Kate’s undoing. The tears glistening in her sister’s eyes weren’t born of jealousy or bitterness, but from the fear of losing each other after everything they had already endured.

Kate tightened her hold on Edwina, tears slipping down her cheeks as the depth of her sister’s love hit her all at once. The sisters clung together, tears falling as Lady Mary wrapped them both in a hug.

Lady Danbury sat back, watching, a smug grin on her face.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Kate sat in Danbury House’s drawing room, pretending to read while her mind drifted back to the garden—and Anthony. He loves me, she thought. He loves me and wants to marry me. The thought made her grin uncontrollably.

Lady Danbury’s voice cut through her reverie. “And what exactly has you smiling so, Miss Sharma?”

Before Kate could answer, she spotted movement outside the window. A figure on horseback, in a dark cloak and tall hat, dismounted gracefully. He looked up, as if sensing her watching him, then smiled at her through the window.

“Lord Bridgerton is here,” Kate said.

A moment later, he was standing awkwardly in Lady Danbury’s drawing room. He politely greeted her family, turning to Kate last.

“Miss Sharma,” he said, breathlessly, reaching out for her hand and holding it to his lips a little too long. He looked around the room, then back to Kate, who nodded.

"I told them our happy news last night," she said. The other women murmured their approval and excitement. His face split into a wide grin. He sat beside Kate, taking her hand in his, thumb grazing gently over her knuckles.

Edwina shut her book and excused herself. She could not stay and watch the adoring, tender man Anthony became around Kate. It made her feel stupid, honestly. The way he looked at Kate…she had mistaken it for disagreement, for ire, for hostility. Now she saw what it truly was: attraction, yearning, lust.

“I’ll check on her,” Kate murmured, standing.

Lady Mary shook her head gently. “You have a caller. I’ll see to her.”

When Kate sat back down, Anthony frowned slightly. "I’m sorry. I know this is awkward.”

“It is,” Kate admitted with a sigh. “But she is happy for us—she just needs time.” Her voice softened as she looked at him. “I am glad to see you.”

He leaned closer, stealing a quick kiss while Lady Danbury’s focus remained firmly on her copy of Whistledown.

"I have something for you," he said, pulling a small jewelry box from his pocket. "But you do not have to accept it if it pains you."

Kate’s heart skipped as she recognized the box—the same one he'd shown Edwina. But Anthony's gaze held hers, full of apology.

“I’ll buy you a thousand new rings if it would undo the hurt I've caused,” he said earnestly.

Inside the box, nestled on velvet, was the gold-and-pearl ring. Kate smiled, warmth spreading through her. It was beautiful, and she knew it was meaningful to the Bridgerton family. She held her hand out to him.

"Are you sure?" Anthony asked, tipping his head, studying her face.

“Yes,” she said, smiling broadly at him.

Anthony slid the ring onto her finger, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He smiled, reaching up to pull her in for a kiss, but—

"Ahem."

Lady Danbury’s teacup landed sharply on its saucer, making Anthony flinch. He had forgotten anyone else was in the room. He grinned sheepishly, and Kate bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

“Right,” he said, pulling away from Kate. “Will I see you this afternoon?”

She tilted her head at him. “This afternoon?”

“My mother wishes to meet with you. I believe she wants to talk wedding plans,” he chuckled. “I must have made it here faster than our messenger.”

Kate blushed, smiling. Wedding plans. She couldn’t believe this dream was coming true. “I would love to meet with your mother. I will see you this afternoon, my lord.”

“Anthony," he corrected. “Please.” He kissed her hand, his lips lingering long enough to prompt another disapproving sound from Lady Danbury.

When Kate arrived at Bridgerton House, the realization struck her: this would soon be her home. She would be Lady Bridgerton. The thought left her dizzy. Anthony was waiting at the door to greet her.

“Miss Sharma,” he said, kissing Kate's hand. Mary smiled tensely at him.

“My mother is expecting you in the drawing room, Kate. Lady Sharma, may I speak with you privately?” Anthony held his arm out to Mary.

Kate shot a concerned glance at them before following a footman to the drawing room, where her future mother-in-law welcomed her warmly. “Miss Sharma.”

Kate smiled. “Please, Lady Bridgerton, call me Kate.”

“Alright, Kate. But you must call me Violet.”

They chatted comfortably about the lovely weather and the previous night’s ball until Anthony and Lady Mary joined them. Anthony took the seat beside Kate, wrapping his arm discreetly around her waist.

"My lord, our mothers are watching,” Kate whispered, sliding away from his touch.

“Anthony,” he corrected with a teasing smile. "And you’ll have to get used to me touching you, my beautiful wife-to-be.”

After tea and wedding planning, Anthony asked Kate if she would like a tour of the house that was soon to be hers. Violet chuckled but warned lightly, “There are eyes everywhere.”

Kate’s face burned but she let Anthony guide her out of the room. She half expected him to push her against the wall right outside the drawing room, with the look he had been giving her. But he did not. He instead walked her around the home, and gave her a tour like the gentleman he was always claiming to be.

They ran into each of his four youngest siblings and he grinned as he re-introduced Kate as the future Viscountess Bridgerton to them. Hyacinth wrapped Kate in a hug. “Will Newton be coming to live with us?”

Kate laughed. She had not even had a chance to think about it. “Yes, I suppose he will be.” Anthony groaned, muttering something under his breath that Kate didn't quite catch, although she thought she heard the word “beast.”

Eventually, they made their way to the third floor. Anthony turned and smiled at her. “We rarely come up here. It is usually only used when we have guests.”

Kate shook her head in disbelief. She was about to live in a home that had an entire guest floor. He frowned at her. “Are you concerned about being up here alone? We can go back–”

“No,” she cut him off, stepping forward while looking around to make sure they were indeed alone. She kissed him. “I just can not believe this is all real.”

He smiled and turned his head towards one of the empty rooms. “Would you like to…?”

She allowed him to lead her into a room with a few sofas that were covered in sheets. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. He held for a moment, inhaling the scent of her. “Do you wear it to torture me?”

“What?” She laughed.

“Your perfume. The lilies. It is all I can think of, all day long. How I want to be here, right here; holding you, smelling you.” He kissed her neck, his arms moving up her torso. She damned her corset for making it impossible to feel the warmth of his touch.

“It is my soap, my lord,” she giggled.

He growled. “I told you, you must call me Anthony.” He shook his head. “I do not wish to be your lord.”

“Alright. Anthony.”

She kissed him, and soon he was on top of her, reaching up under her dress while his lips tasted as much of her bare skin as was easily available to him. His hand found its way between her thighs and she whined under his touch.

She pulled at the waistband of his trousers and he moaned against her lips. He allowed her to begin unbuttoning his fly but then stopped suddenly, pulling back and shaking his head.

“No, I am sorry, I should not– I should not take such liberties with you.” His voice was hoarse and the look on his face was so hungry it almost frightened her. She had never felt so… desired.

Kate flushed, reaching up to touch his face. “You can not take what is being given to you freely.”

He groaned, amusement and frustration in the sound. “No, this is not the way I want to do this.” He sat up, straightening his cravat and then tidying her hair.

“What is the way you want to do this?” she asked, laughing.

“You deserve more than a rushed moment while our mothers await us downstairs.” He kissed her again, before making sure her gown was righted. He stood and held his hand to her. “Shall we?”

As they approached the drawing room, Kate asked, “What did you talk to my mother about?”

Anthony's cheeks turned pink. “I wanted to… clear the air with her. I needed to make sure she knew how I felt about you, that this engagement was not just another way for me to hurt her daughters.” He frowned. Kate stopped walking, pulling him back towards her so she could look him in the eyes.

He continued, “I had to make sure she knew I will take care of you. And her, and Edwina as well, of course.”

Kate's eyes burned with tears. “You will take care of them?”

Anthony nodded. “Of course. They’re your family, and mine too now.” He smiled, but a grimace peeked through. “Surely I have put us all through enough to be considered family now.”

Kate placed her hands on his face and kissed him. “I no longer wish to hear your regrets about the past. Let us speak only of our future from now on.”

He smiled. “I would like nothing more.” He pushed her up against the wall, deepening his kiss and pressing his hands against her hips.

“Brother!” a voice called out. Benedict walked into the hall, Violet and Mary following him out of the drawing room. Anthony and Kate had just enough time to jump apart before the mothers noticed.

“Benedict. You know Miss Sharma, the soon-to-be Viscountess Bridgerton,” he said, gesturing towards Kate with a smile on his face.

Benedict laughed. “Wow, what a difference when you are with the right bride.” There was a tense silence.

“Are we not laughing about this yet?” Benedict asked. “Apologies.”

Chapter Text

Kate woke before dawn, tangled in her sheets, her skin damp with sweat. Anthony had whispered wicked things in her ear during their stroll the previous day, despite Violet and Eloise chaperoning, and his words and hot breath against her ear had influenced her dreams that night.

She pressed her hand between her legs, desperate to recall the visions of him. She closed her eyes, imagining him pressing into her, his weight heavy above her, filling her completely. She had never been touched like this before—but now, the idea of him inside her was all she could think about. She counted down the nights until their wedding night. That was the only good thing about waking from these dreams: she would realize it was one less night alone without Anthony. Eighteen more nights, she thought with a frustrated sigh.

She tried to bring herself release, but the pleasure she found was hollow. What she craved was Anthony—his touch, his kiss, the way he would command her body with whispered words. The memory of their night in the gazebo made her toes curl.

That night, Anthony had explored her with such tenderness, his mouth and hands everywhere at once. She had cried out beneath him, her body overwhelmed by his attention, until she had begged for a pause. Even now, the memory alone nearly sent her spiraling. But it wasn’t enough. I can’t do this anymore.

Frustrated, Kate sat up abruptly, knowing she needed to escape her thoughts. She quickly dressed, pulling on a pair of cotton bloomers and only her riding cloak over her nightgown. She quietly snuck out to the stables to borrow the horse who was becoming her favorite, a large brown stallion named Maverick.

She saddled the horse and rode toward the park—the place where she and Anthony had first met.

As Maverick broke into a gallop, the cool morning air cut through her, grounding her. She let herself savor the moment—her first ride since the accident. There was no fear now, only the joy of being in perfect sync with the horse.

But when she reached the park, her heart nearly stopped. Anthony was already there, dismounting his horse.

“How—” she began, startled.

He smiled, making his way toward her. “Couldn’t sleep. I had a feeling you might be here,” he admitted, lifting her down from her horse. “I will not lie, I thought I'd be afraid to see you on horseback again. But you are such a natural rider.”

Kate smiled, smoothing Maverick’s mane. “I grew up with horses. They are easier than people sometimes.”

Anthony chuckled, drawing her close. The kiss he gave her was tender at first, but it quickly deepened, becoming something hungrier, more desperate. He pressed her against a nearby tree, his hands roaming beneath her cloak. His groan was low and rough when he realized how little she wore beneath it. His hands slid under her bloomers, finding her hot and ready for him.

Kate moaned, rocking her hips against his hand. Anthony’s fingers slid inside her—first one, then another—curling just right. She clutched his shoulders, gasping when his thumb pressed against her in perfect rhythm.

“Anthony,” she gasped, eyes locking with his. “Please... I want all of you.”

He stilled, his forehead pressing against hers. “Kate,” he said softly, “I can’t. Not until we are married.”

She felt an anger rise up in her. “Do not tell me it matters to you that I am still a maiden on our wedding night.”

Anthony laughed, though it was strained. “No, no, I promise. That is not it.”

“Then what?” She blushed but pressed on. “It’s all I think about. All I dream about.”

His breath hitched, and he shut his eyes briefly. “You’re not making this easy for me,” he muttered. Then his gaze darkened with desire. “Do you really dream about us?”

Kate smiled coyly. “That’s why I came here. I needed to clear my mind. I couldn’t... find a release after the dream.” She giggled. “It would have worked better if you weren’t here.”

Anthony chuckled, but the sound soon turned into a low, hungry growl. “Tell me,” he whispered against her ear, “how you tried to find release.” His lips trailed down her neck, making her shiver.

Blushing, Kate gasped when his hand cupped her breast. His fingers teased her through the thin fabric of her nightgown, making her arch into him.

“It’s not the same without your hands,” she admitted breathlessly. She groaned when she felt his fingers on the bare skin of her breast. “Anthony, please, I must know what you feel like inside me.”

“Jesus, Kate.” He jumped away from her and began pacing in frustration. “You cannot say things like that to me.”

“Anthony—”

He turned to face her, grabbing her hands. “Once we are married, and you have the protection of my name, I will give you everything you ask for—everything.” That hungry look was back as he looked her up and down. “But I will not risk your reputation should something happen.”

She frowned, confused. “Should something happen? What can you possibly mean?”

Anthony’s expression darkened. “You know as well as I do how quickly life can change.”

The weight of his words sank in. He wasn’t just worried about scandal—he feared he could ruin her, get her with child, and then leave her unprotected if anything happened to him before the wedding in less than three weeks time..

Kate opened her mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “No, I have hurt your family's reputation enough already. I have hurt you enough already. I will not risk it, Kate.”

He kissed her gently, as if to seal the promise between them. “After we’re wed,” he murmured, “you’ll have all of me. Until then, I am yours in every other way.” He grinned. “And I am counting down the days until we are wed, believe me.”

Kate smiled despite herself. “Only eighteen more nights without you.”

Anthony grinned. “Actually, only eleven.”

She tilted her head, puzzled.

“You’ll be coming to Aubrey Hall a week before the wedding, won’t you?”

“Yes...”

“Then only eleven nights.” His lips brushed her neck as he whispered, “Unless, of course, you object to me sneaking into your room there.”

Kate laughed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Anthony’s grin was shameless. “What’s the worst that could happen? They’d make us marry sooner? Even better.”

Chapter Text

Kate gingerly ran her fingers over the lilac silk, savoring the fabric's delicate texture. She let her eyes drift shut, imagining how it would feel against her skin—and how Anthony's hands might follow the same path over it.

“That’s a lovely color,” Violet’s voice interrupted gently.

Kate smiled at her soon-to-be mother-in-law, hiding her thoughts behind a polite expression. She, Violet, Lady Mary, Edwina, and Eloise were spending the day at the modiste, choosing silks for her trousseau. But Kate struggled to focus. Every soft fabric she touched summoned thoughts of Anthony: how he might react to seeing her in these intimate garments, the ways he might explore each fold of silk against her skin.

In the end, she settled on three: a rich dark blue, a soft ivory, and a light lavender. When she picked the dark blue, the modiste gave a delighted “ooh,” making Kate’s cheeks flush. It was a sultry choice—one she knew Anthony would appreciate.

When they exited the shop, Kate stopped short, surprised to find Anthony waiting outside. He greeted her with a grin and kissed her hand, pulling a bouquet of pink flowers from behind his back.

“For me?” Kate laughed.

“Of course.”

She shook her head in amusement. “What are you doing here?”

“I was on my way back from business and saw you,” he said. “I couldn’t resist stopping to say hello.”

Edwina coughed awkwardly and went to stand as far away from them as possible. As happy as she was for Kate, it still hurt to see how in love Anthony was with her. Not that she wanted Anthony, not anymore—and not that she ever really did in the first place—but it made her feel ashamed to think of how terribly everything had almost gone.

If she had married Anthony…she would have never seen Kate again. She was sure of that fact. Kate would never have allowed herself to come near Anthony again if he had become Edwina's husband. Or worse yet. She had been so angry with Kate just a few weeks earlier, and they had almost lost her.

Eloise drifted to Edwina’s side. “Can I tell you something?” she asked softly. “I think you’re handling all this with a lot more grace than I would.”

Edwina managed a small smile. “Thank you, Eloise. Truly. I have been feeling like I am not being the best sister lately.”

Eloise shrugged. “I mean, you’ve spent the whole day shopping for Kate’s trousseau, watching my brother giggle like a love-struck idiot, and you’ve been nothing but kind. That counts for a lot.”

Edwina laughed. “It is much easier when I see how much your brother clearly loves Kate. I am happy for her. For them. I just feel foolish for not seeing something so obvious sooner.”

Eloise offered a sympathetic nod. “I know the feeling. It’s awful to realize you’ve been misled—especially by someone you trusted.”

Edwina studied Eloise. “Are you all right? If something’s troubling you—”

She was cut off by their mothers approaching. “Shall we return to Bridgerton House for tea?”

Kate stepped away from Anthony, who had been trying desperately to wrap his arms around her. “It sounds like we will be returning to your home. Will you be there?”

“Not for long, I’m afraid. I have another meeting this afternoon.” He gave her a playful smile. “But you’ll be at the Wickham Ball tonight, won’t you?”

She grinned. “I will be, my lord. As long as you will be as well.”

“Stop calling me ‘my lord,’” Anthony whispered, brushing his fingers along hers. “And yes, I’ll see you tonight.”

Kate smiled the entire way back to Bridgerton House. The ball tonight was the last of the season before everyone departed to the country for the hot summer months, but it was also the first one she and Anthony would be attending as an engaged couple. She knew there was quite a bit of gossip and rude things being said about her, even with the Queen’s unexpected blessing.

But none of it mattered. Tonight, Anthony was hers.

That night, the ball was in full swing by the time Kate arrived. Anthony found her almost immediately, weaving through the crowded ballroom as if nothing could keep him away. His eyes lit up as they met hers.

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice low with emotion.

Kate felt heat rise to her cheeks—not from the compliment, but from the intensity in his gaze. That dark, hungry look again, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, extending his hand.

She nodded, and they made their way to the dance floor as the music started. “I have been thinking,” he said, spinning her. “Where would you like to go for our honeymoon? Would you like to go to India?”

Kate’s heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. She tried to focus on the steps of the dance but kept getting lost in his dark brown eyes.

“I would love to go back someday,” she admitted. “But the journey is so long. It takes five months each way—more if the weather doesn’t cooperate.”

Anthony looked stunned. “Five months? By sea?”

Kate nodded. “It took us six to get here. And poor Edwina was seasick for nearly a month.”

Anthony shook his head, still processing the enormity of the distance. “You were so far away,” he whispered, his expression shifting into something softer, more reverent. He seemed overwhelmed by how easily their lives could have missed crossing paths.

The dance ended, and Anthony excused himself to fetch them lemonade. When he returned, he handed her a glass, his smile tender. “Is England the only place to which you've traveled?”

Kate nodded. “I've seen much of India but none of the rest of the world.”

Anthony’s grin widened. “Then we must change that. What would you say to a tour of Europe?”

“A tour?” she gasped. “Where would we go?”

“Anywhere. Paris, Rome, Athens. All of them. None of them. Whatever your heart desires.”

Kate blinked back sudden tears. A year ago, she had been desperately trying to secure a future for Edwina and her mother. She had spent the last of what they had traveling to England, save just enough for her to travel back to India alone, resigned to a life as a governess. Now, she was engaged to a man who spoke of giving her the world.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, handing him the lemonade and slipping away to find some air. She hurried into a small study off the ballroom, closing the door behind her.

She had never been to Wickham Estate before, but she had heard rumors that the Wickhams were one of the poorer noble families in the ton. And yet here she was, in their study next to their ballroom, where a lavish party was happening. The weight of it all pressed down on her—the luxury, the opulence, the sheer improbability of this new life she was about to enter. Compared to the Wickhams, she felt like a pauper; compared to the Bridgertons, she felt utterly worthless.

Tears welled up, and she let them fall, her silk gown stained by the droplets. She was happy—so happy—but the fear of not deserving any of it gnawed at her heart.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Kate?”

She opened the door to find Anthony standing there, concern etched across his handsome face.

“May I come in?” he asked gently.

She nodded, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “What’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

Kate gave him a rueful smile. “No, not at all. I’m just… adjusting to everything. It feels overwhelming sometimes.”

Anthony led her to a small sofa, and they sat side by side. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “What troubles you?”

She shook her head, leaning into him. “I’m just…not used to it.” She gave a wry laugh. “You know…the Sheffields…”

He stiffened, and she held his hand in hers. She continued, “I thought their dowry for Edwina and Edwina's future husband's kindness would be all I could hope for. I was supposed to return to India and become a governess, earn my own way for the rest of my life.”

Anthony’s expression softened. In a small voice he asked, “Is that what you want? To return to India and be a governess?”

She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “No. I want to be your wife, Anthony. I just... I feel like I don’t deserve this.”

Anthony chuckled warmly. “I didn’t earn my title or wealth. I was simply born the eldest son of a viscount.” He kissed her gently. “You don’t need to earn happiness, Kate. You already deserve it.” He stood, pulling her to her feet. “Now, may I have another dance with my future wife?”

Kate smiled, placing her hand in his. “You may.”

Chapter Text

Edwina perched on the edge of Kate’s bed at Danbury House, watching her sister adjust the folds of a dark, jewel-toned gown. Kate fastened a delicate gold bracelet around her wrist, and Edwina smiled softly. “You look beautiful, Didi. Lord Bridgerton won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

Kate flushed, her fingers fumbling slightly as Edwina laughed. “I’m only teasing,” Edwina said. “Though… it is easier to see now, isn’t it? How much he adores you.” She lowered her gaze. “I feel embarrassed for how I behaved before.”

Kate’s expression softened. “No, Edwina. Let’s not talk about that.” She reached for her sister’s hand. “We were both foolish—just sisters acting like rivals. And that’s in the past.”

A tentative smile curled Edwina’s lips. It felt good to feel like Kate’s equal—her friend—at last. “When is he coming?”

Kate glanced at the clock on the mantle. “Any moment now. Are you sure you don’t want to join us at the opera?”

Edwina shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m a bit tired.” She hugged Kate tightly, then slipped out of the room, leaving Kate to finish getting ready.

But in truth, Edwina wished she could go. She had always loved the opera. Yet the thought of being in the same space as Kate and Anthony still made her uneasy. She had been sincere when she said it was easier to see how Anthony loved Kate—but that didn’t make it any simpler to reconcile the image of Anthony she had in her mind with the one who now gave his heart so completely to her sister. She had never imagined him capable of the romance he seemed to have in no short supply for Kate.

Downstairs, Lady Danbury stood waiting in the foyer, draped in elegant evening attire.

“Lady Danbury,” Kate greeted with a polite smile, “are you attending the opera as well?”

The older woman inclined her head with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Indeed I am. Lady Bridgerton has offered to keep me company in my box.”

Kate blinked, catching the meaning behind Lady Danbury’s innocent smile. She and Anthony would have the Bridgerton box to themselves. Though it was still public, the thought of holding his hand without Violet’s watchful gaze was a relief. “How delightful,” Kate said coyly. “I’m looking forward to it very much.”

The footman announced the arrival of Anthony and Violet, and moments later, Anthony strode into the foyer. His gaze swept over Kate, warm admiration clear in his eyes.

“You look incredible,” he said, lifting her hand to kiss it. The soft press of his lips sent a shiver through her.

In the carriage to the opera house, Kate regretted not choosing the seat beside Violet. Anthony slid easily into the seat next to her, his thigh pressing against hers. As Violet made polite conversation, Anthony intertwined his fingers with Kate’s, absentmindedly playing with them under the cover of the dim carriage light. Kate fought to keep her composure, even as his touch ignited every nerve in her body.

“Do you enjoy opera, Kate?” Violet asked.

“I do, Lady Bridgerton,” Kate replied. “I haven’t been in some time. I’m quite excited.”

“Please,” Violet said warmly, “call me Violet. You’ll be Lady Bridgerton soon enough.”

Anthony grinned and wrapped his arm around Kate’s waist, pulling her close despite the sharp, disapproving looks from Violet and Lady Danbury. Kate tried to ignore the way his touch made her heart race, leaving a trail of heat across her skin. She gently eased away from him, though her heart longed to stay close. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were a lover of opera, Anthony,” she teased.

Violet choked a laugh, and Anthony shot her a dirty look. To Kate, he said, “I am not usually. But knowing you enjoy it, I’m suddenly inclined to become a regular patron.”

Violet smiled, her amusement obvious, while Lady Danbury rolled her eyes with a sigh.

At the opera house, Anthony took Kate by the hand and led her up to the Bridgerton box. From their balcony, they had a perfect view of the stage below. Kate glanced down at her program. “L’Italiana in Algeri—The Italian Girl in Algiers. I’ve never heard of it. Are you familiar with the story?”

Anthony shook his head. “No, but I believe it premiered recently.” He smiled at her. “You speak Italian?”

Kate laughed. “Italian, French, Hindi, Tamil, Marathi...” She shot him a playful look. “Who do you think taught Edwina everything she knows?”

Anthony’s smile turned bashful. “Of course.” He took her hand again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You are an extraordinary woman, Kathani.”

The performance began, and Kate soon found herself absorbed in the music. The opera was a vibrant swirl of sound and color, sweeping her into its story. For a moment, she nearly forgot Anthony’s presence beside her—until she felt his hand slipping under her gown, his fingers brushing against her ankle.

Her pulse quickened. She shot him a warning glance, but Anthony kept his gaze firmly on the stage, his expression infuriatingly calm.

“Anthony,” she hissed under her breath as his hand inched higher, trailing up her calf to her knee.

“No one is watching us,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving the stage. “Just enjoy the performance.”

Kate cast a panicked glance around the box, but everyone else was enraptured by the opera. From their vantage point, no one could see below their chests.

Anthony’s hand crept higher, and Kate bit her lip to stifle a gasp as his fingers found the sensitive curls between her legs. The slow, deliberate circles he traced sent sparks through her, igniting a fire that spread with every touch.

She tried to focus on the stage, on the soaring notes of the orchestra, but her body betrayed her, arching subtly into his touch. He pressed a little harder, his thumb grazing her clit, and Kate fought the urge to moan.

“You must keep watching,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “And keep a straight face.”

She nodded weakly, her breath hitching as he continued to play her body like an instrument, in perfect time with the music.

The crescendo of the orchestra swelled, and Kate clenched her fists to keep from crying out. A soft, involuntary “oh” escaped her lips, but it was lost beneath the music’s climax.

Anthony withdrew his hand just as the final notes rang out. He turned to her with a wicked grin, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Are you enjoying the show?” he whispered.

Chapter Text

Kate paced her room at Danbury House, her heart fluttering with excitement and anxiety. In just one week, she would be a viscountess—Anthony’s wife. Tomorrow, they would arrive at Aubrey Hall, and their rooms would be separated by only a narrow corridor. The mere thought sent a twinge of nervous anticipation through her.

A soft tap against the window broke her thoughts. She turned just in time to see another pebble bounce off the glass. Frowning, she stepped closer and peered out into the night. Anthony stood below, grinning up at her.

Kate pressed her lips together, half-amused, half-exasperated. She raised her brows, silently demanding to know what on earth he thought he was doing. He only waved, gesturing for her to join him.

Sighing, she wrapped herself in her robe, extinguished her candle, and slipped quietly into the warm summer night.

Anthony met her halfway down the garden path, pulling her into his arms without hesitation. His kiss was fervent, all-consuming, as though he’d been starved of her touch. She melted into him briefly before pulling back, her breath uneven.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, eyes wide with disbelief.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers again. “I thought perhaps you couldn’t either.”

Kate smiled despite herself, her pulse racing beneath his hands. “How did you know which room was mine?”

He grinned, looking sheepish. “Yours was the only window with a candle still lit. I took a chance.”

Kate huffed, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement. “What if that had been my mother’s window? Or Lady Danbury’s?”

Anthony laughed softly, drawing her closer. “What can I say? I have become a fool for you.” His hand slid down to her hip, pulling her flush against him. His voice dipped into a familiar, teasing murmur. “Where can we go?”

Her heart thudded at the suggestion, and she took his hand, leading him deeper into the garden toward the summerhouse nestled among the trees.

The small, six-sided summerhouse was bathed in moonlight, its windows casting long beams across the room. Inside, a narrow sofa awaited them. Anthony took one look at the charming little structure and groaned in mock frustration.

“Why haven’t we been sneaking off here every night?” he grumbled.

Kate chuckled, closing the door softly behind them. “Because you haven’t knocked on my window before.”

He caught her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her deeply. Her robe slipped from her shoulders, revealing the thin nightgown beneath. Anthony's groan of appreciation sent a spark of heat through her.

His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve, and his lips followed. When he tugged her nightgown down to expose her breasts, his breath hitched. “Kate…” he whispered, reverence heavy in his voice before he took one nipple into his mouth.

Kate gasped, the sensation making her toes curl. He teased the sensitive peak with his tongue, then moved to the other, biting gently. She moaned, threading her fingers through his hair.

Anthony’s kisses trailed lower, and before she knew it, he was on his knees between her legs, lifting the hem of her gown. The first flick of his tongue against her sent a sharp gasp from her lips.

“Anthony,” she whimpered, but he only hummed in response, the vibration making her shudder. His mouth worked skillfully, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firmer pressure, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

She glanced down and met his gaze, and the sight of him—his face buried between her thighs, eyes locked on hers—made her moan again, louder this time.

Anthony slipped a finger inside her, and she arched into his touch, her body singing with pleasure. Another finger followed, and soon he had her gasping, her hips moving of their own accord. His moan vibrated against her, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her that unraveled her completely.

Her release came in a rush, her breath hitching as waves of ecstasy rolled through her. Anthony eased her down gently, watching her with a satisfied, adoring gaze as he licked the taste of her from his fingers.

“You look beautiful when you are enjoying yourself,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Kate blushed, still catching her breath. Her hands found the waistband of his trousers, tugging with quiet intent.

He groaned softly, but shook his head. “Not yet, Kate. Please. When we’re married...”

Her fingers stilled briefly, but she met his gaze with a mischievous glint. “I only want to touch you,” she whispered. “Please, Anthony. I have not…seen you yet.”

He hesitated for a moment, but when she began to unbutton his fly, his resolve crumbled. A low moan escaped him as her hand brushed against him, and he stood, letting his trousers fall to the floor.

Kate stared, her breath catching at the sight of him. She had seen drawings of male anatomy in books before, medical textbooks she had snuck off to read when she was a curious young girl. She had always thought they seemed…unimpressive. But now, staring at Anthony’s hard, throbbing member, she had the thought that she had been very, very wrong.

“What…what do I do?” she asked softly, her hand hovering just above him. Anthony guided her hand, wrapping her fingers around his length and showing her the rhythm he liked. She followed his lead, watching in fascination as his face twisted with pleasure under her touch. He opened his eyes to see her watching him and he groaned.

“Kate…” he gasped, his voice strained. “Wait—”

But she didn’t stop, her hand stroking him with growing confidence. His head fell back, and with a guttural groan, he spilled into her hand.

Kate blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushed. “Oh.”

“I tried to warn you,” Anthony said, breathless and embarrassed. He quickly retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaning them both up.

“It’s alright,” Kate murmured, her voice soft and curious. “Does that feel good?”

Anthony chuckled, pulling her close. “Yes.Very.”

They curled together on the narrow sofa, Kate’s head resting on his chest as his fingers trailed through her hair. The night was warm, the garden quiet, and soon she drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Anthony woke her just as the first light of dawn began to peek around the edges of the horizon. “I’m leaving for Aubrey Hall quite early,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let me walk you back.”

Hand in hand, they made their way through the garden, the world still hushed and glowing with the promise of morning.

“I’ll see you soon, my love,” he murmured, kissing her one last time before slipping away into the fading night.

Chapter Text

A sharp knock at her door roused Kate from sleep. “Kate? It’s getting quite late,” came her mother’s gentle voice from the hallway. “Are you feeling alright?”

Blinking against the bright sun streaming through the windows, Kate’s heart gave a disappointed lurch—she’d been dreaming about Anthony. But then her memory returned: today they were going to Aubrey Hall. And tonight… Anthony would come to her room. A slow smile curled her lips.

“Yes, Amma! I’m perfectly fine.” She sat up, smoothing her tangled hair. There was no time to waste.

Kate rushed through the morning, eager to fill the hours until their departure. She could barely contain the excitement—and nerves—bubbling inside her as they climbed into the carriage. The countryside rolled past in a blur, but her thoughts kept drifting, toggling between fragments of last night and the delicious promise of what awaited this evening.

When the carriage finally pulled into the gravel drive of Aubrey Hall, the Bridgertons were waiting at the entrance. Anthony, standing with his mother and four younger siblings, greeted them with a warm smile. As soon as he kissed Kate’s hand, he tugged her toward the doors with barely concealed impatience.

“Anthony,” Violet chided with a raised brow, though her lips twitched with amusement.

“I’m only seeing to our guest’s comfort, Mother,” he called over his shoulder, whisking Kate inside with a grin.

She blushed furiously as they escaped the others, her heart racing from the thrill of being alone with him. Once inside the room designated for her stay, Anthony shut the door behind them, pulling her into his arms.

“Today was torture,” he murmured against her neck, holding her close. “I’ve thought of nothing but you.”

Kate melted into his embrace. “I know the feeling,” she whispered, brushing her lips across his. But then she laughed softly. “We can’t stay here—we’ve caused enough scandal for one afternoon.”

Anthony sighed, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “A tour, then?”

They stopped before a large bedroom with tall windows that bathed the space in golden light.

“This will be ours next week,” Anthony said as he opened the door. His voice softened. “There’s an adjoining suite—the viscountess’s quarters. But I was hoping you’d want to stay with me.”

Kate smiled, stepping inside to explore. “Of course.” She wandered to the next room, poking her head in. “This could make a lovely nursery.”

She turned back to find Anthony watching her, a look of stunned realization dawning on his face.

“What?” she asked, curious at his sudden silence.

He stepped closer, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “It just occurred to me that you will be the mother of my children one day.”

Kate laughed, wrapping her arms around him. “Yes, I thought you realized that when you asked me to marry you.”

He chuckled, kissing her forehead. “I did, but I’ve been a bit distracted... thinking of our immediate future.” His eyes darkened as he leaned in to kiss her. “Like tonight. And our wedding night.”

They barely had a moment before a voice interrupted from the doorway.

“Ahem.”. The two jumped apart to see Benedict grinning at them. “Welcome, Kate. Making yourself comfortable, I see.”

Blushing, Kate stepped back as Anthony swatted Benedict on the arm. “When did you arrive?”

“Just now. Colin and I rode together. A drink, brother?” Benedict asked with a mischievous glint.

Anthony glanced at Kate, who gave him a playful nudge. “Go on,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure your mother has plenty to keep me occupied.”

She wasn’t wrong. Violet swept her into discussions about flowers, menus, and guest lists. Kate did her best to stay polite, though all she could think about was Anthony and the anticipation that coiled tighter with every passing minute.

That evening, Kate sat beside Anthony at the head of the long dining table, surrounded by family and friends. Joy radiated through the room—her mother, Edwina, Lady Danbury, and the younger Bridgertons, all chatting and laughing. Across the table, Edwina giggled at something Eloise whispered, while Violet sat at the other end, beaming with contentment.

Anthony tapped his glass. “A toast,” he announced, rising to his feet. “To my family—for your unending love and support. To Lady Mary and Miss Edwina, for your kindness and grace. And to my beautiful bride-to-be—” He paused, grinning wickedly at Kate. “—for making this week feel far too long.”

Eloise cut in before he could say more. “Cheers!” she said, lifting her glass and sparing Kate further embarrassment.

The evening passed in a joyful blur of food and conversation, though Kate found herself tapping her fingers against the table, anxious for the night to end. Anthony noticed, slipping his hand over hers. He leaned closer, whispering in her ear, “I’m afraid my mother has quite the evening planned. It’ll be late before we can escape to bed.”

She frowned and he laughed. “Mother,” he said, interrupting Violet’s conversation with Mary and Lady Danbury at the other end of the table. She turned her attention to him.

“I was just telling Kate about the celebrations you’ve planned. She would like to know more about your plans for this week.” Kate shot him a look, but he just smiled.

Violet clapped her hands together in excitement. “Yes! After dinner tonight, the help has set up a lovely dessert table and games for us in the drawing room. And tomorrow, of course, we will have your engagement ball,” she grinned at the couple. “Everyone should have arrived in the country today, so it will be quite the occasion.”

“And of course, on Tuesday we will be having our pall-mall match,” Colin interjected. “Which I will be winning.”

Kate chuckled, and she and Anthony shared a smile, remembering the muddy mess they had gotten themselves into the last time they played. Anthony shook his head at Colin. “I would not underestimate Kate. She’s a quick study.”

Violet smiled at her eldest son. She hadn’t seen him this lighthearted in years. She continued telling them her plans for the week. “Thursday I have a luncheon planned, Friday we will have a… small dinner party. And of course, on Saturday you will be married in the morning, and we will have a celebration party after.”

Kate smiled at her, touched. “You did not have to go to so much trouble, Violet.”

“It is no trouble at all,” Violet said. “We are lucky to have something to celebrate.”

Hours later, after endless rounds of charades, the family finally retired for the night. Anthony kissed Kate’s hand. “Good evening, Kate. Sleep well,” he said. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and kissed her on the cheek before whispering in her ear, “I will see you in an hour.”

Back in her room, Kate removed her jewelry as she paced anxiously. Just as she began unbuttoning her dress, there was a knock. Her heart jumped—it had only been a few minutes. Surely Anthony wouldn’t arrive so soon?

She opened the door. It was a young woman, probably around Kate’s age herself, and she was dressed in a maid’s uniform and holding a tray with a pitcher and a cloth.

“Miss Sharma, I’m Claire. I’ll be your lady’s maid once you’re married.” She nodded her head respectfully. “Do you need help undressing?”

Kate’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. She had not realized she would have her own maid. I’ll have an entire staff, she thought. “Oh,” she said. “It is nice to meet you, Claire. But no, thank you, I can manage.”

Claire hesitated, clearly unused to such a response, but Kate smiled kindly, taking the tray from her. “It’s late. You may retire for the night.”

“As you wish. Good evening, Miss Sharma.”

“Good evening,” she said. “And please, you can call me Kate.” She closed the door, as Claire departed with an unsettled look on her face.

Kate returned to her room. She sat the tray down on the vanity before sitting in front of the mirror. She let her hair down, brushing her long dark curls out of the tight braided updo they had been in. She reached behind her back and undid the fiddly buttons at the back of her dress. It was not the simplest thing to do, but Kate had gotten quite good at it.

As she undid her corset, she looked to her trunks that had been put in her room. She spotted the one that held her new lingerie and nightgowns. She opened it, her fingers brushing the delicate blue piece Madame Delacroix had crafted. It was nearly see through, and Kate had blushed when she held it up to her body. It felt too bold for tonight, so she slipped into a simple cotton shift instead. She hoped Anthony wouldn’t be disappointed.

She washed herself with the warm water and cloth that Claire had brought for her. Then she reached into her small cosmetic trunk and pulled out a tiny vial of perfume she had just bought. Lilies. Just for him. She dabbed it on her wrists and neck. She paused a moment, before rubbing a tiny bit of the perfume oil on the curls between her legs, smiling to herself.

Kate extinguished all but one candle. She glanced at the clock on the mantel, her pulse quickening. Any moment now…

She began to pace again, unsure what to do with herself. She walked over to the window and looked out at the gardens of Aubrey Hall. The gardens here were gorgeous, and absolutely resplendent in the peak of summertime. She looked out at the fields of lavender at the very far edges of the property. She closed her eyes, imagining the scent of the field when it was in full bloom. Imagining Anthony there with her, touching her, as she felt the warm sunshine and smelled the flora around them.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Anthony stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the dim light.

“May I?” he whispered.

Kate grinned. “Yes, come here. Now.”

She raced over to him, practically jumping into his arms before he had closed the door. He lifted her up, kissing her passionately before carrying her to the bed. He extinguished the candle on her bedside table so no one would see the light under the door.

He groaned as he kissed down her neck. “I have been dying to touch you all night.” He pulled at her nightdress, exposing her breasts. He buried his face in between them, before kissing his way back up to her lips. She unbuttoned his shirt and he removed it, tossing it on the ground. She ran her hands up and down his sturdy, muscular chest. God, he was handsome. Every touch, every kiss stoked the fire between them.

He pulled at the edge of her nightgown, then stopped and looked at her. “Is this alright?”

She sat up, pulling the shift over her quickly before lying back down. Anthony gaped at her naked body, fully revealed to him for the first time.

“Kate,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He glided his hands over her body reverently, sending shivers up and down her spine. He began kissing every inch of her skin. “You are more beautiful than I even imagined,” he murmured in her ear before making his way back down between her legs.

Kate groaned and arched her back as his mouth pressed into her. He put his fingers inside her again, stroking her like he had the night before. She could feel herself getting close, and she moaned loudly as he touched her in the particularly right place. He lifted his head. “Shh,” he said. Then he smiled at her and did it again.

She pressed her hand to her mouth as he continued licking her and stroking her and she felt the glow of pleasure burst inside her. She groaned into her palm before whispering to him. “Oh, Anthony.”

He pulled himself up from between her legs, hovering over her. She pulled him close to kiss her. She let her hands wander down to his trousers, tugging at them. He shook his head at her. “No. Tonight is all about you,” he said in a husky whisper.

He lay behind her, kissing her neck, his hands caressing every inch of her skin, sending shivers down her spine. He put his hand between her legs again, and Kate bit her lip, pushing her face into the pillows to muffle a moan as waves of pleasure consumed her. “Yes, that’s it, Kate,” he murmured into her skin, kissing her neck. “Come for me.”

She did, forcing her hand over her mouth to block the loud moan she felt escaping her. He groaned against her. “Come for me again, Kate.” He continued touching her until she pushed his hand away.

“I can't…it's too much,” she said, breathing heavily.

He kissed her neck, laughing, pleased with himself. He held her close, brushing kisses over her hair.

Kate drifted off in his arms, her heart full and her body sated. When she woke the next morning, Anthony was gone, having slipped back to his room early before anyone would notice him missing. She sighed, imagining the day she could wake up in his arms.

Chapter Text

Kate and Edwina sat in Kate’s room, Kate’s fingers deftly weaving Edwina’s long hair into a braid, the soft afternoon light filtering through the window. Edwina, seated at the vanity, chattered about her time with Eloise and Francesca.

“I had the most delightful day,” Edwina said, a girlish giggle escaping. “They took me to the library and the music room. Francesca plays so beautifully, I swear she must have a third hand—her fingers fly across the keys!”

Kate smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. After weeks of anxious concern over her sister’s happiness, it was a relief to see Edwina flourishing. With every passing day, her sister seemed lighter, more content.

They turned their attention to the ball that awaited them that evening. Violet Bridgerton had filled the house with the most fragrant blooms, and the scent of roses and jasmine drifted through the corridors.

“It will be the most beautiful evening, Didi. You deserve nothing less,” Edwina said, her voice filled with affection. She caught Kate’s gaze in the mirror, smiling softly. “And you will be the most beautiful bride.”

Kate stilled for a moment, overwhelmed by emotion, before leaning down to hug her sister. “Thank you, Bon. That means everything to me.” She resumed her braiding, her touch light but steady.

After a beat, Edwina’s eyes twinkled. “Do you remember the Featherington ball?”

Kate’s lips curved as memories of that night filled her mind—though, if she was honest, most of them were centered on Anthony.

“The queen mentioned her nephew to me,” Edwina continued.

Kate frowned, trying to recall. “Her nephew? I don’t believe I remember.”

“I suspected you might not,” Edwina teased. “I did tell you, though. But you were far too preoccupied with certain... other matters.”

Kate flushed. “I apologize, Edwina. Do tell me again.”

“He is a prince,” Edwina said with a grin. “His name is Friedrich. And we’ve been corresponding.”

“Have you?” Kate blinked in surprise, guilt flickering as she realized how absorbed she had been in her own affairs.

Edwina nodded, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. “Yes, for the last few weeks. He is utterly charming. And—” she gave a small, conspiratorial smile—“he is coming to the ball tonight.”

Kate couldn’t help but grin. Edwina’s flustered delight was unmistakable. Kate could tell this prince had tickled her fancy. “That is wonderful. Does Anthony know him?”

Edwina’s smirk deepened. “Oh, he does. And that, Didi, is where the story gets amusing.” She laughed. “We have both been burned by a Bridgerton.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

“He courted Daphne once. He had Anthony’s permission and everything. But just as he was about to propose, she vanished from the ball.” Edwina’s eyebrow raised. “The next morning, she was engaged to the duke,” she said, giving Kate a dubious look.

Kate burst into laughter, recalling snippets of the scandal. She had heard the gossip about Daphne’s whirlwind engagement to the Duke of Hastings, but the finer details had eluded her. She made a mental note to get the full story later.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Anthony stood there, a familiar grin on his face.

“Oh! Hello, Edwina,” he greeted warmly before turning to Kate. “My sister has arrived. Would you two like to come meet Simon and Augie?”

Augie was a smiling, happy baby a little over a year old. The baby seemed particularly enchanted with Edwina, cooing gleefully at her and pulling at the dark curls that framed her face. Edwina and Violet took turns holding and tickling him, their laughter echoing through the hall.

Daphne, to Kate’s surprise, greeted her with a warm, tight hug. “I am so pleased for you,” she said with a sincere smile. She turned to the tall, striking man beside her. “This is my husband, Simon.”

Kate curtsied. “Your Grace, it is an honor to meet you.”

Simon chuckled, waving away the formalities. “Please, just Simon. We are to be family, after all.” He clapped Anthony on the shoulder with brotherly ease. “A drink, Bridgerton? I believe we have some catching up to do.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. He looked back at Kate.

“Will you be alright if I–”

“Yes, Anthony,” Daphne said, cutting him off. “She will be fine. I will not interrogate her.” She rolled her eyes at her brother. Daphne tugged Kate’s arm, steering her toward a sitting room. “Shall we have tea? I promise not to interrogate you, but I do have a few questions.”

Kate laughed, following her. “I will answer them on one condition: you must tell me about Prince Friedrich.”

Daphne paled slightly. “Oh?”

Kate smiled knowingly. “He will be attending tonight. It seems he is quite taken with my sister.”

Daphne’s expression softened. “Friedrich is a good man. Edwina would be lucky to have him.”

“And yet,” Kate said thoughtfully, “you did not marry him. Why is that?”

Daphne’s eyes sparkled with quiet affection. “Because of love.” She gave Kate a meaningful look. “I have a feeling love is the answer to my questions about you and Anthony as well.”

The evening was a blur of music, laughter, and endless well-wishers. Kate wore a gown of light blue, its intricate beading shimmering under the glow of candlelight. Anthony’s grin was wide and unrepentant when he saw her.

“My beautiful soon-to-be wife,” he murmured, brushing a kiss across her lips. They were oblivious to the stares of their family. After just a day of Anthony and Kate being in the same space, it was quite obvious to everyone that they literally could not keep their hands off each other, Anthony especially. As long as they could behave in front of their guests, the matriarchs of the family decided to turn somewhat of a blind eye to them.

He tasted of whiskey, and she found herself wanting to kiss him again, her mother’s scornful gaze be damned. But then the door to the ballroom opened, and they entered into the room filled with partygoers.

A handsome young man with blonde hair approached them. “Miss Edwina?” he asked shyly, holding out his hand to her.

“Friedrich! I mean, Prince Friedrich. Hello.” Edwina stammered, her cheeks pink with pleasure. Kate smiled as she watched them glide to the dance floor, the sound of their shared laughter filling the room.

Throughout the night, Kate greeted countless guests—many of whom seemed more curious than congratulatory. No doubt, they wondered what could have drawn Anthony away from the season’s diamond and toward her. She had no answer for them—she still marveled at it herself.

When the festivities finally ended, Kate returned to her room, her head heavy with exhaustion. She slipped out of her gown and was already half-asleep when Anthony appeared at her door.

“Are you tired?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She shook her head, but then nodded as a small yawn escaped her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know that I am up for our…usual activities.”

He chuckled softly. “That’s alright,” he said. “Could I just hold you for a while?”

She smiled. “I would like that very much.”

As they lay in comfortable silence, Anthony’s voice broke the stillness. “When is your birthday?”

“August 22,” she murmured. “Why do you ask?”

“It seems like something I ought to know.” He kissed the top of her head. “That’s soon. I should have asked you earlier.”

She shrugged. “When is yours?”

“September 17.” He paused. “I believe we will be in Italy for your birthday. Is that alright?”

She smiled, imagining wine and sunsets on a Tuscan balcony. “I truly can not imagine anything better.”

They were quiet again. After a while, Kate said, “Daphne told me something interesting today.”

Anthony tensed beside her. “Oh? What was it?”

Kate wondered how many things Daphne had against him to make him nervous like that. She would find out.

“You promised her hand to a gross old man?”

Anthony groaned, a tinge of relief at the edges of it that concerned her. What could he have done that was worse than that? “He wasn’t that old.” He sighed. “I was acting foolishly.”

“Yes. Extremely. How could you do something like that?”

Anthony’s face burned in shame, and he covered it with his hand as if he couldn't bear to let her see him. “I am a different man than I was then,” he said. “I am a different man now than I was a month ago.” He sighed. “I screwed up Daphne’s prospects by being too overprotective, and then I panicked and made a bad choice.”

Kate arched an eyebrow at him. “You don’t say.”

He frowned. “I know, I know. I have a pattern.” He held her close, and kissed the top of her head as she laughed. “I am learning.”

Chapter Text

There were no balls or luncheons or dinners planned for Monday, and Kate was relieved. She was looking forward to a chance to relax in the warm country air.

At breakfast, Anthony took his place beside her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Across the table, Violet gave him a pointed look, though it quickly melted into a resigned sigh. She seemed to understand that scolding her son for his public displays of affection was a battle long since lost.

“Have you seen the orangery yet?” Anthony asked as he settled into his chair.

Kate shook her head. “Aubrey Hall has an orangery?”

Anthony’s grin was boyish, lighting up his features. “Indeed it does. I think you will enjoy it very much. Shall I show you after breakfast?”

She nodded, excitement bubbling in her chest. A walk through the greenhouse, hand in hand with Anthony, sounded like the perfect way to begin the day.

After they finished their meal, Anthony led her to the orangery—a small but enchanting space nestled amidst the estate gardens. The moment Kate stepped inside, the humid warmth and fragrant air wrapped around her like a familiar embrace.

“Oh,” she breathed. “This is lovely.”

Anthony held the door open, watching her as she took it all in. “I thought you might like it.”

Kate closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The heady scent of jasmine and oranges filled her senses, evoking memories of India. She leaned back against Anthony’s chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist, content to savor the peaceful moment.

“It reminds me of home,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

Anthony pressed a kiss to her hair. “One day, I will take you there. Whenever you are ready for the journey again.”

Kate turned around so she could kiss him. “I love you.” She stood in his arms, inhaling the scent of him mixed with the ambrosial scent of the orangery. “I love it in here.”

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I have some work to do,” he said. “Would you like me to send one of the maids down with tea for you here?”

She frowned. “You have work to do?” She knew her voice sounded petulant, but she didn’t care. The idea that she had a whole day to herself in the country without Anthony felt like being given a plate of rice without curry. Filling, but flavorless.

“I always have work to do.” He laughed. “Duty of a viscount, I’m afraid.” He kissed her forehead. “I will be in the study here. It is mostly ledgers I have to attend to.”

“Could I keep you company?” she asked. “I could come read in there with you.”

He gave her a fond, puzzled look. “It will be quite boring. Why don’t you stay here?”

She shook her head, smiling. “No, I’d rather be with you.”

“Are you certain? It is not nearly as nice inside as it is out here.”

“I don’t mind,” she said. “I want to be where you are.” She smiled. “Does that sound pitiful?”

Anthony grinned. “No. I would love your company.” He kissed her. “But I mean it, the moment you tire of it, I insist you return here. No hard feelings.”

The day unfolded in comfortable silence. Anthony worked through his ledgers at the large desk while Kate curled up on the small sofa with a book in hand. Occasionally, he glanced at her, smiling whenever their eyes met. They broke briefly for lunch and later wandered into the library, where Kate selected a few more novels.

By late afternoon, Kate was halfway through her third book when Anthony stretched, rubbing the back of his neck. He let out a yawn, his work finally complete.

“I enjoyed having you here,” he said warmly, his gaze lingering on her. Outside the window, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hazy purples and golds. “Shall we return to the orangery before dinner?”

Kate set her book aside, but Anthony picked it up, tucking it under his arm. “I’ll read the rest to you.”

Her heart swelled at the gesture. It had been so long since anyone had read to her—her father was the last, and the memory made her chest ache with longing. “I would love that, Anthony.”

In the orangery, Anthony had arranged for a small sofa to be placed inside, perfectly positioned to catch the evening breeze. They snuggled together, Kate resting against him as he read aloud. The cadence of his voice lulled her into a state of bliss, the warmth of the orangery, the scent of fruit and flowers, and the solid comfort of Anthony at her side weaving together into a moment so perfect it nearly brought her to tears. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so happy.

Again that night, Anthony crept into her bedroom. Tonight she was not tired. Tonight she yearned for him. At dinner that evening, it had occurred to her that today was what her life would be like now. She would spend her days with Anthony while he worked, and spend her time relaxing in leisure. In the beautiful orangery. She knew there would be things to do, events to attend, children to raise, eventually. But for the first time it really hit her that the days ahead would be quiet, and peaceful, and filled with Anthony.

When he arrived at her door, she was standing behind it, and she pulled him to the bed the moment he crossed the threshold, her hands eager as she undressed him. She climbed on top of him and grinded her body against his. Anthony groaned beneath her touch, trying to flip their positions, but she pressed him down firmly.

“Tonight,” she whispered, her lips trailing down his neck, “is for you.”

Anthony's breath hitched as she moved lower, her hands deftly unbuttoning his shirt and trousers. He watched her, entranced, as she explored his body with unhurried, deliberate strokes. She leaned down slowly and kissed the very tip of him. His eyes bolted open.

“Kate, you do not have to—” His voice was hoarse with need, but whatever protest he meant to voice was cut off the moment her mouth closed around him.

He moaned loudly, and she stopped, looking at him. She whispered, “Shh.” And then she did it again. He buried his face in a pillow, a groan of pleasure escaping him. “My god,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

Kate took her time, exploring him gently with her tongue and mouth. She had imagined this moment ever since their night in Lady Danbury’s summerhouse, curiosity burning within her. Now that it was real, it was even more intoxicating than she had dreamed.

Anthony’s body tensed as she grew bolder in her exploration of him. He tried to pull away, gasping, “Kate, wait, no,” but the pleasure overwhelmed him. With a strangled groan, he spilled over, the release sudden and forceful.

Kate blinked in surprise, her face and chest streaked with evidence of his climax. Anthony’s cheeks flushed crimson as he scrambled to find a cloth.

“I am so sorry,” he stammered, his embarrassment palpable.

To his astonishment, Kate began to laugh. She wiped a hand across her face, glancing down at the cum on her fingers. With a mischievous smile, she locked eyes with him—and then, slowly, she brought her tongue to her hand, tasting him.

Anthony groaned, his restraint unraveling. “Jesus, Kate,” he muttered, his voice thick with arousal.

Without hesitation, he tossed the cloth aside and pinned her beneath him, his gaze dark with intent. “Your turn,” he murmured, spreading her legs and lowering himself between them.

Chapter Text

At breakfast, Anthony sat beside Kate, kissing her cheek and slipping his arm around her waist with casual ease.
“Anthony,” Violet sighed with exaggerated disapproval, sending him a pointed look. He had the decency to slide his arm away, though Kate’s blush deepened, amused by how little Violet knew about their nighttime activities.
“Alright, who will be losing to me at pall-mall today?” Daphne announced with a triumphant grin.
Colin rolled his eyes and lobbed a piece of bread at her across the table. “You mean who will finally dethrone you.” He glanced around the table. “Who’s playing? We only have eight mallets.”
Edwina laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “I have seen the way you Bridgertons play. I’d rather live to see another day, thank you.”
Francesca grinned. “Agreed. Edwina and I shall form the League of Sensible Non-Competitors.”
“I’m out too,” Benedict added lazily, stretching his legs under the table. “I have… plans.”
Anthony arched a brow. “What plans?”
Benedict rolled his eyes. “You know, Anthony, I do have a life of my own.”
With a snort, Anthony let the matter drop and began tallying the players on his fingers. “That leaves me, Kate, Colin, Daphne, Simon, Eloise, Gregory, and Hyacinth. Perfect—eight exactly.”

After lunch, they strolled to the lawn, Hyacinth and Gregory sprinting ahead to claim the mallets. Hyacinth grabbed the pink and black ones, slyly tucking the black Mallet of Death behind her back. When Kate approached, Hyacinth handed it over with a conspiratorial smile.
Anthony narrowed his eyes. “I saw that. What did you bribe her with?”
Kate laughed. “Nothing.”
“I just like Kate,” Hyacinth said with a shrug, skipping off.
The game began tamely, but by the fourth wicket, civility had evaporated. Colin’s ball was in the lead, though his success was largely due to everyone else being too busy sabotaging each other. Anthony and Kate were locked in a personal vendetta, knocking each other’s balls astray at every opportunity. Daphne and Simon played out their own battle, while Gregory and Hyacinth turned the match into open warfare.
Eloise delighted in punishing whoever annoyed her most—Anthony being her primary target. Each time she sent his ball sailing into the distance, Kate clapped her hands in gleeful approval.
“Well done!” Kate called after Eloise’s latest sabotage, laughing as Anthony glared at both of them.
“If you’d like to gloat further, darling,” Anthony muttered, leaning close, “I can ensure you regret it later.”
Kate’s smile only deepened. “We’ll see about that.”
On Anthony’s next turn, he managed to get his ball closer to the wicket, abandoning Kate to focus on strategy. But when her turn came, she lined up her shot, clearly intending to send his ball crashing into oblivion.
“No, you don’t!” he shouted, dashing forward. Before she could make contact, he scooped her up by the waist and carried her off across the lawn.
Kate shrieked, half outraged and half delighted, slapping at his arms. “Put me down, you madman!”
Anthony dropped to his knees on the soft grass, laying her down beside him as they both collapsed into fits of laughter.
“How dare you,” he said, breathless, his forehead resting against hers. “We’re supposed to be allies.”
Kate, still laughing, reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss. His hand cradled the back of her head as their lips met, the world momentarily falling away.

“Mother may be turning a blind eye to this chicanery,” Eloise’s voice rang out sharply from across the lawn, “but I am not!”

They sprang apart, flushed with laughter. Across the lawn, Gregory and Hyacinth stood with identical expressions of disgust, while Daphne and Simon grinned in amusement. Colin awkwardly looked off into the distance, trying to seem oblivious.

“Carry on!” Eloise called with exaggerated exasperation. “We’ll finish the game without your disgraceful shenanigans.”

Choking back giggles, Kate and Anthony scrambled to their feet and rejoined the others. Somehow, despite their antics, Kate emerged victorious by the end of the match.

“I won!” she cried, jumping up and down with delight. Simon clapped his hands and threw back his head in laughter.

“What is so funny?” Anthony snapped at his friend.

“Your face,” he said between chuckles. “I have never seen you so furious and proud all at once.”

Anthony turned a shade of pink that only made his siblings laugh harder.

“I told you she was a quick study,” he muttered to Colin, though his eyes sparkled with affection as he watched Kate bask in her triumph.

At dinner, Edwina smiled sweetly. “Who won pall-mall today?”

Kate grinned. “I did.”

“Did you, Didi?” she said, smiling. “Well done.”

“It was a close match,” Anthony grumbled, sparking a chorus of mock protests from the other players, each insisting they had been on the verge of victory.

Leaning close to Kate, Anthony whispered in her ear, “I will get you back for this.”

Later that night, Anthony slipped silently into Kate’s room. His kisses were ravenous, hands sliding over every inch of her bare skin, leaving her breathless. He lifted her easily, depositing her in an armchair with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Kate gasped as he knelt before her, his mouth trailing over her inner thighs, teasing her until she was trembling with need. Just as she was teetering on the edge of release, his hands stilled, and he sat back, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“What—?” she breathed, her voice hoarse with frustration.

Anthony kissed her slowly, savoring her bewilderment. “I told you I’d get you back for pall-mall.”

Her outraged gasp dissolved into loud laughter, only to be muffled as he pressed a hand over her mouth.

“Shh,” he whispered. They stayed still for a moment, listening to the quiet house around them, ensuring no one else stirred.

Anthony got a wicked look in his eyes. Keeping his hand over her mouth, he reached down in between her legs again, putting his fingers in her and his thumb against her the way she loved. She moaned against his hand, her eyes large as she looked at him in surprise.

He removed his hand. “Is this alright?”

She nodded and he pressed his hand against her mouth again. With his strong hand covering her mouth and pinning her to the back of the chair, Kate felt as if she was completely under his control. And that was a delicious feeling.

She closed her eyes as the waves of pleasure rocked her body. She opened her mouth in a loud cry that was muffled by Anthony’s hand. He kept moving his other hand against her, and she clenched her jaw shut as another bolt of pleasure pushed its way through her, and she accidentally caught a piece of his skin between her teeth.

“Ow!” he said, jumping back.

“Oh! I didn’t mean—” Kate stammered, mortified.

Anthony stared at her in surprise, then burst into quiet laughter, holding up his palm where a faint red mark bloomed. “I - you- you bit me.” He said, laughing, trying to stay quiet.

“It was an accident!” Kate hissed, turning bright pink. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, still chuckling. “But you—” He looked at her with a mixture of awe and amusement. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Flustered but exhilarated, Kate laughed too, pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you,” Anthony murmured, his voice rough with affection.

Chapter Text

The next day at Aubrey Hall was delightfully quiet, with no obligations on the calendar. Anthony had work, of course, and Kate kept him company for a while, sitting in the study with her book. But the warm summer breeze beckoned. She closed the book with a soft thump and stood.

“I’m going outside for a little while. Is that alright?” she asked.

Anthony looked up from his desk, a smile curling at the corners of his lips. “Of course. Enjoy the gardens, the orangery—anything but this stuffy room.” He kissed her lightly, and his gaze lingered longingly on her as she left.

With her book tucked under her arm, Kate made her way toward the gardens, hoping to find a comfortable spot to read. But she didn’t get far before Daphne and baby Augie intercepted her in the hall.

“Hello, Daphne. And you, little Augie!” Kate cooed at the baby, who responded with gurgling laughter. But Daphne’s smile was thin, a little worn at the edges.

“Are you alright?” Kate asked gently. “You look quite weary.”

Daphne let out a sigh. “I am. This little one is teething and hasn’t given me a moment’s peace.”

Kate arched a brow. The baby in her arms was nothing but chubby cheeks and delighted giggles. “Really? You seem like a perfect angel to me,” she teased Augie.

Daphne shook her head with a tired smile. “Don’t let him fool you.”

Kate chuckled. “Would you like me to look after him for a bit? You could sneak in a nap.”

Relief washed over Daphne’s face. “Would you really? I hate passing him off to Mother or your maids again.”

The phrase “your maids” made Kate’s heart skip—a little signal that Daphne already saw Aubrey Hall as hers, and that warmed her in ways she couldn’t quite explain. She held out her hands, and Daphne gratefully handed over Augie before disappearing toward her guest room with something close to a sprint.

Kate laughed at the tiny, beaming face in front of her. “Is it true? Are you a handful?” she murmured, lifting him into the crook of her arm. The two of them wandered outside, taking their time exploring the gardens. Kate sniffed the flowers, offering them to Augie so he could smell them too. Every time a petal brushed his nose, he let out delighted squeals, and she couldn’t help but giggle along with him.

She was holding him up, making silly faces, when she heard Anthony’s familiar footsteps behind her. A smile spread across her lips—how quickly she had memorized the rhythm of his approach.

“Hello, Anthony,” she greeted in the singsong voice she’d been using with Augie all afternoon.

Anthony's gaze softened as he watched her. “You’re going to be an incredible mother,” he said, his voice thick with affection.

Kate flushed. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s easy when they’re as sweet as this one.” She handed Augie over to Anthony, who accepted him with a grin.

They strolled back toward the house, where Violet and Daphne were waiting for them.

Violet turned to Daphne, her smile fond. “It’s so nice to have Anthony back, isn’t it?”

Daphne nodded, a tear glistening at the corner of her eye as she watched her brother playfully babble to her son. It had been years since she’d seen this side of him—a gentler, more joyful Anthony.

When they reached the porch, Daphne reached for Augie. Anthony pressed a kiss to the baby’s head before handing him over.

“Thank you, Kate,” Daphne said with a smile. “I had the most wonderful nap.”

Kate returned the smile. “It was no trouble at all. Honestly, he was a perfect angel. I think I stole him during his best hours.”

Daphne shook her head knowingly. “You’ll understand when you have your children—they always save their best behavior for everyone else.” She turned and walked inside as Violet laughed, nodding in agreement.

Kate’s heart fluttered. Your children. Daphne had said it so easily, as if it were a foregone conclusion. She glanced at Anthony, who was already grinning at her, his eyes filled with unspoken promises.

Violet cleared her throat. “Anthony, the...ah, delivery came this morning.”

Anthony’s grin widened. “Excellent.” He turned to Kate, offering her his arm. “Would you like to go for a ride?”

Kate blinked in surprise. “A ride?”

He chuckled, his brown eyes twinkling. “Come with me.”

He led her out to the stables. In one of the stalls, Kate recognized a large brown horse. “Is that Maverick?” she whispered, stepping closer.

Anthony nodded. “Yes. I bought him from Lady Danbury. He’s yours now.”

Kate turned around, looking at him. “Why?”

Anthony frowned slightly, unsure how to interpret her reaction. “I thought you liked him.”

“I do,” Kate said. “But…I…why…” she trailed off. “I've never had my own horse before,” she said quietly. Although she had grown up with horses, they belonged to the families her father had worked for, who were luckily generous and happy to let Kate ride theirs. She reached over to Maverick, stroking his sleek neck. “Thank you.”

Anthony’s confusion melted into tenderness. “Are you happy?”

Kate laughed, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Yes. Very happy.” She threw her arms around him. “You spoil me, you know.”

“Kate, please,” he said. “This is the least I could do for you.” He wiped away another tear. “Now. Would you like to go for a ride?”

They spent the afternoon riding along the edges of Aubrey Hall’s property, Kate’s laughter carried by the wind as she urged Maverick into a sprint. She felt alive, more herself than she had in weeks. When she slowed to let Anthony catch up, he shot her a look of concern.

“Promise me,” he said, eyeing the horse warily, “that you won’t make him jump anything.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t Maverick’s fault, Anthony. I was being careless.”

“Promise me anyway.” His voice was softer now, almost pleading.

Kate opened her mouth to argue, but the worry in his eyes stopped her. She sighed. “Alright. I promise. I will be careful.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon chasing each other through the fields at Aubrey Hall.

When Kate went to her bedroom that evening, she felt refreshed. She loved riding so much. It always made her feel more like herself, stronger, more confident. As she undressed and washed herself, she eyed the trunk in the corner of the room that contained her new lingerie. She felt a shiver run up her spine. Yes. Tonight she would surprise Anthony.

She dug in the trunk, pulling out the dark blue, nearly see-through piece. She pulled it on, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked…sexy. Kate had never considered herself even particularly pretty before, but standing in the mirror now, she felt like she saw what Anthony did when he looked at her. Her long black curls fell over her shoulder, and her dark nipples were visible through the gauzy fabric. Her legs seemed to glow, the way the blue fabric complemented her skin, and they looked impossibly long in the short cut of the nightdress.

She put on her lily perfume again, and sat at the edge of the bed. As the minutes passed, she began to feel her confidence waning. She felt silly, all dressed up and waiting for him. She thought about changing into her cotton shift, but then the doorknob turned, and Anthony poked his head into the room. His eyes swept the room, looking for Kate, who usually was waiting near the door for him. When his line of sight landed on her, his eyes grew wide and hungrier than she had ever seen.

In an instant, he was at her side, his hands and lips trailing hungrily across her skin. “I did not think you capable of being more…desirable,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to admire her.

She started to pull at the buttons on his trousers. He pulled back. “No, Kate…not—not when you look like this.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to control myself.”

“You do not have to control yourself,” she said, her eyes smoldering.

Anthony groaned, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Kate, please. You know I can’t. Not until Saturday.” His eyes were dark. “You do not understand how difficult this is for me.”

She sighed. “I think I have some idea.”

He kissed her. “I know. Believe me, Kate, I want to just as much as you do. It is just not a risk I’m–”

“Willing to take.” she filled in for him, smiling. “I know.”

They were quiet for a moment, and then he gazed down at her again. “Where on earth did you get such a….seductive item from?”

“Do you like it?”

He nodded. “You are breathtaking.”

“I have a whole trunk full of new little things like this,” Kate said, teasingly. “Madame Delacroix has outdone herself.” She pulled at her negligee as if to examine it. “This is one of the more modest ones,” she lied.

He made a noise deep in his throat, almost a growl. He kissed her deeply, his hands roaming beneath the delicate fabric. He put his hand over mouth again. “Do not bite me this time," he said, smirking.

Chapter Text

By afternoon, Aubrey Hall buzzed with activity. Guests scattered across the gardens, mingling among the elegant food displays. Though it was a casual gathering, Violet Bridgerton had outdone herself—flowers arranged in perfect bursts, trays of pastries sparkling under the sunlight, and carafes of lemonade glistening on tables.

Kate lingered on the edge of the patio, her gaze unfocused. No matter how she tried, her thoughts kept slipping back to the night before—Anthony’s weight on her, her whispered moans swallowed by his kiss. A flush crept over her cheeks at the memory.

“Kate?”

She turned to find her mother standing beside her, a soft smile on her face.

“Oh!” Kate laughed, shaking off the trance. “I was lost in thought.”

Mary smiled at her daughter. “I am sure you have much on your mind these days.” She paused, looking out towards the party. “I have a surprise for you. Well, we have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise? You did not have to do anything.” She said, smiling.

“Tomorrow, we will do a mehndi ceremony for you. If you wish.” Mary grinned.

Kate’s mouth dropped open. “Mehndi? How–”

“Lord Bridgerton was able to procure henna for us,” she said. “I think he loves you very much, you know.”

“I do.” Kate blushed. “I feel very lucky.”

“It is not luck,” her mother said, putting her arms on Kate’s shoulders. “It is love. Cherish it. It is rare. Believe me.” They hugged each other tightly, tears slipping from their eyes as they both thought about Kate’s father. “He would have loved to see you so happy.”

The mention of her father brought a wave of emotion. Tears stung Kate’s eyes, and Mary embraced her, holding her close as they shared a quiet moment of remembrance.

Anthony’s voice cut gently through the moment. “Kate?”

He stood just behind them, his brow furrowing when he saw Kate’s tears. He was at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

Kate wiped her eyes quickly. “Nothing. My mother has just told me you were able to find henna for me.”

Anthony smiled, relief washing over his features. “I hope that’s alright.”

“More than alright,” Kate whispered, gratitude lacing her voice.

Mary slipped away discreetly, leaving the two alone. Anthony clasped Kate’s hands. “Would you like to escape the party for a bit?”

Kate gave a small nod, and without another word, Anthony led her inside. They slipped upstairs to Kate’s guest room, the noise of the gathering fading behind them.

The door had barely clicked shut when Anthony’s lips were on hers, his hands sliding beneath her skirts. They tumbled onto the bed, his mouth trailing down her body in a frenzy of kisses. Kate arched into him as he pressed his face greedily into her. Her fingers clenched at the sheets and she pressed her other hand to her mouth to stay quiet.

Just then, the door flew open.

Claire, the maid, froze in the doorway, her eyes wide as the basket of linens tumbled from her hands.

“Oh! Miss—Lord—I’m so sorry!” she gasped, backing out in a blur.

For a moment, Kate and Anthony stared at each other in stunned silence. Then Anthony burst into laughter, clutching his sides.

Kate slapped his shoulder, mortified. “It’s not funny!”

“It was bound to happen sometime,” he said, still chuckling as he sat up.

“What do you mean?” Kate said, surprised.

“Surprised it hasn’t happened sooner,” he grinned. “She is your maid. I half-expected to sneak in while she was still undressing you.”

Kate shook her head, incredulous. “Claire doesn’t undress me.”

“What do you mean?” his brows wrinkled. “Has she not been coming by in the evenings?”

“She brings water and fresh linens, but I don’t need help dressing. I’ve been managing that my whole life.”

Anthony looked baffled. “I am paying her quite well to be your personal attendant.”

“Well, she is lucky then. I do not ask for much.” Kate laughed.

He took her hands, more serious now. “You should ask for more, Kate.”

“What do you mean?”

He grabbed her hands and kissed them. “You are to be a viscountess. Act like it.”

She pulled her hands away in disgust as he shook his head. “No, I'm sorry, I only mean…” he sighed. “You are allowed to ask for things. You are allowed to want things.”

She gave him a bemused look. “Anthony, what more could I possibly want?”

“There must be something.”

“No,” she said. She thought for a moment. “Well…”

“Aha. Tell me.”

“I do miss chai. I ran out of what little I brought with me a while ago.”

Anthony shook his head. “Kate, this is exactly what I’m talking about. I can have it imported for you. Immediately. You do not have to keep drinking English tea.”

She smiled sheepishly. It had seemed like a big ask, but he agreed as simply as if she had asked him to pass the salt at dinner. He stood, leaning to kiss her. “Go find your maid, apologize on my behalf, and ask her to help you tonight. Please. For me.” He started for the door.

“And where are you going?’

He looked at her, exasperated. “I’m going to order chai for you.”

At dinner that night, Lady Mary stood, clinking on her wine glass. “I hope it is alright if I say a few words.” She looked around the table full of people. “I want to say thank you to the Bridgertons for being such fantastic hosts, and thank you to Lord Bridgerton especially. You love Kate so much, and it…” she trailed off, blinking back tears. “True love is rare and it is so beautiful,” she said. Violet nodded strongly in agreement, tears at the edges of her own eyes.

Mary cleared her throat. “Lord Bridgerton has given us a very special gift. He was able to find henna for us, so we may do mehndi for Kate tomorrow.”

At the confused glances, Edwina chimed in, “It’s a kind of decorative painting on the skin. Very intricate and beautiful.”

Mary nodded. “Traditionally, the women of the family gather to decorate the bride. So I would like to extend the invitation to the women here to join us.”

“It takes hours,” Edwina added. “We will need to keep Kate entertained.”

Laughter rippled around the table, and Violet grinned. “We’d be honored to participate.”

“Yes. Thank you for including us," said Francesca, who was sitting next to Kate. She squeezed Kate’s hand.

Kate smiled, tears welling in her eyes. In all her life, she had never imagined this for herself. She never imagined being a bride, let alone a bride with mehndi marrying an English viscount. “Thank you,” she said to Francesca.

That evening, Kate finally allowed Claire to help her undress. She hated to admit it, but it was nice to have someone to help unlace her corset. Edwina would do it for her sometimes, but for the most part Kate stayed dressed much later than Edwina ever did, going out for walks in the cool dark air of their home in India at night.

“Thank you, Claire,” she said as the maid loosened the corset enough for her to slip out of it. She looked at Claire sideways, then put her nightgown on before slipping the corset and underskirt off her.

Claire frowned. “Miss Sharma, I assure you, I am a professional, you do not have to behave differently. I am here to serve you.”

Kate frowned, but she laughed. “That’s just it, I am not used to being served. My father was a clerk.” She paused, sitting down as Claire began to brush her hair for her. “Will you please call me Kate?”

Claire locked eyes with her in the mirror. “No. It is improper,” she looked at Kate strangely.

Kate laughed. “I don’t care about that. Please, if you are truly to be my lady’s maid, I would like to feel more like your friend than your master.”

Claire smiled hesitantly. “I would like to call you by your name, but I cannot risk getting used to it. I have to call you by your title, especially when you become the Lady of the house.”

Kate frowned again. “Fine. I will pretend you are saying my name.” Then she smiled. “The Lady of the house. It still does not feel real to me.”

Claire smiled shyly at her in the mirror. “I have heard…somewhat…of the story of your…courtship.” She looked away from Kate’s bemused eyes. “It seems like you two are...a true love match.”

Kate’s cheeks flushed at the memory of Claire walking in earlier. “I’m sorry about…before.”

Claire smiled, shaking her head. “I will knock from now on.”

Kate was having a hard time staying awake as she waited for Anthony. It had been a long day, and all week long she had barely gotten any sleep thanks to these nightly rendezvouses with him. She got up from her bed, walking to the window, and gazing at the moonlit gardens again. She yawned just as Anthony entered the room.

He smiled, walking over to her. “I know, I am tired too.” She let him wrap her in his arms and kiss her. “Would you like me to leave so you can sleep?”

“No!” She shook her head. “Please. Stay.”

They got into bed together, Kate’s head on his chest. They talked about that day’s luncheon and how much they couldn’t wait for the excitement to be over, when they would be married and alone at Aubrey Hall. They were counting the hours until Saturday night.

“I cannot wait to see you as my bride,” Anthony grinned.

Kate reached up to kiss him, thinking of tomorrow’s mehndi ceremony. “Thank you again.”

“For what?”

“For letting me have my traditions as well,” she said. She hesitated. “You are not concerned that I will not look like a…typical bride?”

Anthony scoffed. “You never look ‘typical.’ You always look incredible, and stunning, and radiant.” He kissed her. “I am sure you will take my breath away no matter what you look like.” He began to stroke her hair as she felt herself drifting off to sleep. “You even look beautiful covered in mud,” he said drowsily, yawning.

Chapter Text

The next morning, an insistent knock rattled the door.

Kate’s eyes flew open, and she tried to sit up, but a weight pinned her down—Anthony’s arm.

"Baap re," she whispered in panic, slipping into her native tongue. The door swung open.

“Didi, are you—?” Edwina stepped into the room, Eloise trailing behind her.

The moment Edwina saw Anthony lying next to Kate, she gasped, “Oh!”

Eloise’s lips curled in triumph. “I knew it,” she said smugly, then turned back into the hallway. “He’s in here!” she called gleefully to someone outside.

Kate’s cheeks flared crimson as Anthony stirred beside her. His sleepy smile faded as he registered the bright pink panic painting her face.

“Ah,” Anthony muttered, sitting upright with a sheepish grin as Edwina stood frozen in the doorway.She backed up out of the room and closed the door. Silence hung heavy between Kate and Anthony.

“I’ll tell them it was all my idea—my fault,” Anthony said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

Kate blinked, still catching up to the whirlwind of what had just happened. Finally, she muttered, “We didn’t even do anything last night.”

Anthony’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Kate hissed, though a reluctant giggle escaped her, betraying her. They dissolved into shared laughter.

Anthony leaned in and kissed her briefly before swinging his legs out of bed. “Let’s hope our mothers don’t hear about this.”

Unfortunately, their mothers had heard.

Since Claire had been told not to enter Kate’s room in the morning, no one had woken them, and they’d slept late. When Anthony didn’t appear in his room or his study, Colin jokingly suggested he’d run away. The family’s lighthearted concern soon morphed into real worry, prompting a search.

Eloise, seeing her opportunity, placed a bet with Colin—one whole pound—that Anthony was in Kate’s room. She collected her prize with a smug grin as Mary and Violet dragged off their respective children for separate reprimands.

Kate stared intently at the intricate pattern on the rug while Mary’s disappointed gaze bore into her.

“You’ll be married tomorrow,” Mary said sharply. “You couldn’t wait one more night?”

“Nothing happened, Amma. We just talked and fell asleep,” Kate insisted.

“He shouldn’t have been in your room at all!” Mary’s voice rose. “Has this been going on all week?”

“No, of course not.” Kate’s heart pounded as heat rose to her cheeks, the telltale flush betraying her lie.

Mary shook her head with a heavy sigh. “I was beginning to trust him. Of course, he would do this.”

“Do what?” Kate’s voice sharpened. “Nothing happened!” She forced herself to meet her mother’s doubtful stare.

Mary sank onto the bed beside Kate, her sternness giving way to weariness. “I know you and Lord Bridgerton have been…together before.”

Kate’s head shook fervently, but Mary pressed on. “You could already be with child.”

“No!” Kate’s voice wavered with frustration. “We haven’t... He wouldn’t... We’ve only...” The words tangled in her throat, and she blushed furiously. “It wouldn’t matter—we’ll be married tomorrow.”

“Will you?” Mary’s voice was soft but laced with doubt. “Or will he find a way to hurt us all again?”

Kate’s chest tightened, as though she’d been struck. “How can you say that? After all he’s done for us—for me?”

Mary’s gaze didn’t waver. “I can’t help being concerned. We’ve never even had the… talk. How do you know he isn’t taking advantage of your naiveté?”

Kate drew in a deep breath. “Amma. I am nearly seven and twenty. I may lack experience, but not knowledge. I am not some fresh debutante from the marriage mart.”

Mary studied her daughter in silence. Kate continued, her voice more measured now. “And, if it matters, Anthony has been adamant—he won’t risk anything until I have the protection of his name.”

She paused, realizing what she’d just admitted, and blushed deeply.

Mary’s stern expression cracked, and a small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. So, Anthony was a gentleman after all. Her daughter, on the other hand…

“Well, there’s nothing to be done now,” Mary said, wrapping her arms around Kate. “You’ll be married in the morning.” She gave Kate a look. “But Edwina will be sleeping in your room tonight—just in case.”

Later, in the gardens, Kate and Anthony met in the shade of the trees.

Anthony’s face was still flushed from the scolding his mother had given him. He offered Kate a wry smile. “Apparently, I’ve failed to set a good example for my siblings.”

Kate reached out her hands to him. He hesitated briefly, then took them in his.

“I don’t think it’s your job to set an example,” Kate said, her voice warm and teasing. Anthony’s lips twitched in amusement.

“And actually,” she added, “I think you’ve set an excellent example.”

Anthony gave her a quizzical look. “How so?”

“You’ve done nothing but show love for me,” Kate said simply, leaning in to kiss him. “Tomorrow, we’ll be married. Is it terrible that I don’t care what our mothers think anymore?”

Anthony chuckled, though the crease in his brow remained. “I still care what your mother thinks,” he admitted. “She must think I’m a terrible scoundrel.”

Kate blushed, biting her lip. “I may have…implied that I’ve been the one tempting you.”

Anthony burst into a hearty laugh, the sound rich and joyful. It filled Kate’s heart with warmth.

“Well, that’s not exactly a lie,” he said with a grin, kissing her again. Kate’s hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer.

Anthony broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. “I’m afraid Benedict and Colin have been assigned to guard me tonight.”

“My mother had the same idea. Edwina’s sleeping in my room.” Kate sighed dramatically.

Anthony pressed another kiss to her lips. “Just one more night without you.”

Kate smiled, her heart full. “One more night.”

Kate sat curled into the armchair in the drawing room, watching as her mother and Edwina spooned henna paste onto parchment and rolled it into cones. Eloise leaned in curiously.

"Is it permanent?" she asked.

Mary smiled, shaking her head. "No, it will fade quickly—perhaps a week, no more."

"How fascinating." Eloise’s gaze shifted to Kate. "May I ask you something?"

Kate gave a small nod, prompting her to continue.

"Well, not so much a question as an observation," Eloise admitted. "I admire that you don’t seem worried about what people will think tomorrow."

Kate laughed softly, though there was a hint of melancholy in the sound. "I am concerned. The ton already looks down on me." She shrugged, her voice light but edged with resignation. "But even if I followed all their rules, I’d still be an outsider. So I may as well do what has meaning for me."

"It means more than I can say that your brother found the henna for us," Kate added, glancing gratefully at Eloise. "I thought all I’d have was my red veil."

"And the maang tikka we chose," Mary reminded her, smiling at Eloise’s puzzled expression. "It’s a sort of head ornament—a crown, in a way."

"And we’ll have the haldi ceremony tonight," Edwina chimed in brightly, only to falter under the weight of Mary and Eloise’s glances.

Kate tilted her head. "You, Mama, and me?"

Edwina exchanged a quick look with Mary, then nodded too quickly. "Yes. Just the three of us. After dinner." She forced a smile. "And then I’ll stay with you tonight—just like when we were children."

Kate frowned, sensing something off. But before she could ask, Anthony entered the room, all restless energy.

“Ladies, good afternoon.” He gave Kate a knowing smile. “I understand you’ll be busy for a while, so my brothers and I are off hunting. It’ll be Gregory’s first time—pray we all return in one piece.”

Kate laughed. "I’ll see you at dinner, then."

Anthony leaned down, intending to kiss her, but stopped short at Mary’s pointed glare. Instead, he took Kate’s hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "Until tonight, my love."

The drawing room soon filled with women—Kate’s new sisters, Lady Danbury, her mother, and Violet Bridgerton—each ready to celebrate Kate in their own way. Laughter rang through the room as Mary demonstrated the intricate patterns she planned to draw.

"I’m afraid I’m not very good at this," she chuckled, looking apologetically at Kate. "I hope you won’t mind if it’s not perfect."

Kate smiled at the circle of women surrounding her. The warmth of their presence filled her chest with emotion. "This is already perfect."

The afternoon slipped by in cheerful chatter and companionship. They painted Kate’s hands and feet with swirls and vines. There was just enough henna to do a small design on Edwina and her mother’s hands as well. Eloise seemed rather disappointed there was not enough for her.

The women took turns feeding Kate small bites of fruit and offering her water as the henna dried. Her fingers curled delicately, unable to move as the earthy paste hardened. She marveled at the joy she felt—not just for the ceremony, but for the people who had come together to make it possible. And for Anthony, who had understood what this tradition meant to her.

Hours later, Kate’s back was stiff, and her hands throbbed gently, but the designs had set beautifully. Claire, her maid, arrived to help her bathe without smearing the henna, which was no easy feat.

"Did you ever imagine you’d be doing this?" Kate asked, laughing as Claire guided her carefully up the stairs.

Claire grinned. "You’d be surprised what we prepare for during training."

The bath was warm and soothing. As the water rinsed away the dried paste, Kate admired the deep reddish-brown stain left behind.

Claire held up a towel. "That turned out beautifully. And you’ll want to dress soon—dinner will be a bit early tonight."

Kate arched a brow. "Why?"

Claire’s eyes sparkled. "Lady Bridgerton has after-dinner plans, I believe."

Kate smiled. Of course, she did.

Back in her room, a gown she’d never seen before lay waiting on the bed—a deep red creation with intricate embroidery.

"Where did this come from?" she asked.

Claire’s grin widened. "A gift from Lord Bridgerton."

The red gown shimmered in the candlelight, perfectly matching the rich hue of Kate’s hennaed hands. Claire chose a delicate gold circlet and ruby earrings to complete the look, leaving Kate’s hair loose in soft waves down her back.

When she saw herself in the mirror, Kate couldn’t help but smile.

Anthony greeted her with a wide grin as she entered the dining room. Without hesitation, he crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms. "You look stunning," he whispered, stepping back to admire her. He took her hands, turning them gently to study the intricate designs.

“Do you like it?” she asked softly.

"I love it," he murmured, his voice low with sincerity. "Do you?"

"More than I can say." She blushed at the tenderness in his voice. She glanced down at the dress and twirled slightly. "And the gown is beautiful. Thank you."

Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and teasing, though Kate couldn’t shake the sense that something was being kept from her. She told herself it was just pre-wedding excitement—and the lingering embarrassment of being caught that morning.

After the meal, Violet clapped her hands, her smile unusually wide. "Dessert on the patio, everyone!"

Kate smiled, welcoming the thought of warm evening air. As the others filed out, Anthony offered her his arm.

"Are you ready?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"For dessert?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Anthony chuckled but said nothing, guiding her outside.

The sight awaiting her stopped her in her tracks. Marigold garlands draped every surface, their vivid orange blooms glowing softly in the moonlight. In the center of the garden stood two chairs, with a large bowl of golden turmeric paste beside them. Candles flickered gently in the breeze, casting a golden glow over the scene.

Kate turned to Anthony, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Did you know–?” Her voice broke, overwhelmed.

Anthony smiled, his expression softening. “Edwina told me about it.” His smirk flickered briefly before disappearing. “She said she had one before…well…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “She said it was important, and we wanted to make sure you had it too.”

Emotion swelled in Kate’s chest, leaving her momentarily speechless. Unable to contain her joy, she kissed him right there, not caring who saw.

Lady Danbury tapped her cane against the patio stone. “Go sit down, you two.” She turned to Edwina and Mary. “Alright, let’s get started, shall we?”

“This is to bless you both with health and happiness,” Mary said softly, swiping a streak of golden paste across Kate’s cheeks before turning to Anthony. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she dabbed a dollop on his nose, drawing laughter from the group and a mock gasp of offense from Anthony.

The Bridgerton family wasted no time joining in. Violet carefully brushed a bit of the paste onto Kate’s arms. “It’s a beautiful tradition,” she said warmly, her eyes misting slightly as she met Kate’s gaze. “Thank you for sharing it with us.”

Kate’s throat tightened, her gratitude threatening to spill over. “Thank you for being part of it,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

Colin grabbed a handful of paste, smearing it across Anthony’s jaw with unrestrained glee. “You look quite dashing in yellow, brother,” he said.

“Oh, do you think so?” Anthony retaliated swiftly, reaching for his own handful to smear across Colin’s forehead.

Eloise streaked it liberally across Kate’s face. “It’s only fair,” she said with a grin. “You’ll need the blessings more, marrying him.”

Kate threw her head back in laughter. Anthony reached for her hand, his palm warm and steady as he intertwined their fingers. She turned to him, her heart swelling at the affection shining in his eyes.

“This is…everything,” she said. “Thank you.”

He leaned over, pressing his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered.

The evening dissolved into laughter, as everyone took turns adding their blessings with the turmeric. Kate alternated between laughing uncontrollably and tearing up with gratitude. Anthony held her hand the entire time, his face alight with laughter, his eyes warm with affection. She willed herself to commit his expression to her memory. She had never seen him look so happy.

When the ceremony finally ended, Kate and Anthony lingered outside as the others headed in. The faint hum of laughter drifted from the house. Kate rested her head on Anthony’s shoulder. “I wish you could stay with me tonight,” she said softly.

Anthony pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice warm and teasing. “Just one more night apart.”

She sighed, smiling against his shoulder. “One more night.”

When Kate returned to her room, Edwina was already curled up in the bed with a book.

"I don't see why Mama insists I stay with you," Edwina grumbled good-naturedly. "It seems a bit late for chaperoning."

Kate laughed, sliding into bed beside her sister. "I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to have a little time with you.”

She held her little sister’s hand, admiring the henna design on it. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Kate asked softly, "Are you disappointed Anthony didn’t do any of this for your wedding?"

Edwina froze. Her “wedding” with Anthony was something they never spoke about. She looked at Kate, and saw the worried expression on her face. Did she think Edwina was jealous? Or angry? Edwina shook her head. “No, not at all.” She smiled. “The traditions are not as important to me as they are to you.” She shrugged, then looked at her hands. “Though I would not mind a mehndi party when I marry Friedrich. That was quite fun.”

“Has he asked for your hand?” Kate said nonchalantly. Prince Friedrich had remained in the country since the engagement ball, and he and Edwina had gone on several chaperoned dates that week. He had asked Kate and her mother for permission to ask for her hand before he returned to Prussia. It had been difficult for Kate to stop herself from asking Edwina that question several times a day.

Edwina blushed. "Not yet. But I hope he will."

“I hope so, too.” Kate said, smiling. She looked at her own hands. She was quiet as she thought for a moment. “It makes me feel closer to my mother.” She said, gesturing to her stained fingertips. “My…first mother.”

Edwina squeezed Kate’s hand gently. “I know both she and Appa would have loved to be here for this. I am sure they are both so happy for you, wherever they are.”

Kate hugged her sister tightly. Then she extinguished the last candle and tried to calm her excited heart and let herself sleep.

Chapter Text

When Kate woke, Edwina was already at the foot of the bed, swinging her legs impatiently. "Finally!" she exclaimed with a grin. "You’re getting married in a few hours—up with you!"

Kate groaned good-naturedly, letting Edwina pull her upright and into her robe.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Claire entered, balancing a small breakfast tray. "Good morning, Miss Sharma. Shall we get you dressed?"

"Not quite yet," Edwina said quickly, exchanging a glance with Kate. "There’s one last thing to do before she puts on the gown."

“Now what?” Kate laughed. “You cannot possibly have another surprise.”

Edwina grinned. “We do.”

At that moment, Mary appeared at the door with a small velvet box in her hands. She approached Kate with a tender smile. "Good morning, darling. This is for you."

Kate took the box and lifted the lid. Inside lay a delicate gold hoop attached to a fine, intricate chain—and beside it, a smaller, everyday version of the hoop. Her breath caught in her throat.

"A nath?" she whispered, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. Memories flooded her—memories of women in India, elegantly adorned with nose rings that shimmered in the sun, a quiet symbol of marriage and tradition. Even Mary had worn one, though she’d abandoned it when they came to England. Now, to see this—especially the large bridal hoop, with its tiny dangling gems—it was overwhelming.

She looked up at Mary, who gestured to the vanity, where there was a needle and clean cloth waiting. Kate hesitated, her emotions warring within her. "What if Anthony doesn’t like it?" she asked, cringing at how vulnerable she sounded.

Edwina smiled at her. “He helped us get it for you, silly.” She looked at her mother. “I am still not quite sure how he managed to have it here in less than two weeks.”

Mary shrugged, smiling softly. “I am sure he paid handsomely for it.”

The tears Kate had been holding back spilled over.

"I hope those are happy tears," Mary said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Kate’s face.

Kate nodded, sniffling. "They are." She took a deep breath, her heart so full she thought it might burst. "I never thought I’d have a wedding like this. Or any wedding."

She glanced between Mary and Edwina. “You know, before I knew you, Amma,” she started, and Mary tilted her head at her curiously. Kate had been only eight when Mary entered her life, yet Kate’s words carried the weight of old memories.

"I went to a wedding—maybe it was a cousin’s? Or a family my father worked for. I was so little, I don’t remember much. But I remember the bride. She was... ethereal. Covered in gold, her jewelry sparkling all over her head. I thought she must be a princess or a goddess." Kate laughed softly at the memory. "I curtsied to her."

Edwina and Mary were smiling at Kate. “You will be just as divine today,” Mary said.

"Even more so," Edwina added firmly.

Kate wiped her cheeks, her heart too full for words. She turned to the vanity, her reflection blurred with tears. "Alright," she said, steeling herself. "Do it quickly before I lose my nerve.”

Kate stared at her reflection in awe, hardly recognizing the woman in the mirror. Her ivory gown shimmered under the soft morning light, heavy with gold embroidery and intricate beading.

The dark red veil, embroidered with delicate gold beads, draped gracefully over her hair, which had been arranged with the utmost care. A gleaming headpiece ran down the part of her hair, ending in a teardrop ornament that rested elegantly on her forehead.

Her hands and forearms were stained with the intricate henna patterns, their deep reddish-brown hues a perfect complement for the emerald bangles encircling her wrists. She touched the gold hoop in her nose, and the fine chain that stretched across her face to her ear shifted with the movement. The sight of it—the little tug of the chain—made her smile, as if she could see the child she had once been gazing back at her in wonder.

A soft knock at the door broke the spell, and Eloise and Francesca entered, their faces bright with excitement.

"We’re here to collect the bride!" Eloise announced dramatically, but the moment she saw Kate, she stopped short, her mouth falling open.

“Wow, Kate.” Eloise said.

“You look incredible.” Francesca said, nodding in agreement.

Kate laughed, her cheeks warming under their compliments.

Eloise leaned in closer, her gaze fixed on the hoop. "Wait. Is that actually... in your nose?"

Kate grinned. "Yes, it is."

Eloise blinked, clearly fascinated. "Does it hurt?"

"Not as much as I expected," Kate admitted with a shrug.

Francesca gave her a sly smile. "Anthony isn’t going to know what hit him."

Kate's heart swelled at the thought. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Anthony’s face when he saw her.

"Shall we?" Francesca asked, gesturing toward the door.

Kate took one last look in the mirror, drawing a steadying breath. "Yes," she said softly. "I’m ready."

With that, she gathered her skirts, adjusted the veil over her head, and let her soon-to-be sisters-in-law escort her from the room, her heart thrumming with anticipation.

The ceremony took place outdoors at Aubrey Hall, on the very grounds where the haldi ritual had taken place the night before. Though a grand ball awaited them later—filled with friends and the prominent members of the ton—this moment was intimate, shared only with their closest family. It was theirs alone.

The soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds set the perfect backdrop as Kate made her way toward Anthony. The morning light filtered through the marigold garlands, casting golden shadows over the chairs and altar. A faint breeze carried the scent of flowers and dew, mingling with the warmth of the sun as it touched her skin.

When Anthony saw Kate for the first time, he forgot to breathe. She glided toward him like something out of a dream, radiant under the soft morning light. He could only watch in stunned awe as she took her place beside him, slipping her hands into his.

"You’ve never looked more beautiful," he whispered, his voice unsteady.

She smiled, and it took everything in her not to kiss him right then and there.

Throughout the ceremony, their gazes stayed locked, as if the world around them didn’t exist. When Anthony slid the gold band onto Kate’s finger, placing it above her pearl ring, a tear slipped from the corner of his eye. Without hesitation, Kate reached up, brushing it away with a gentle touch that made his heart ache.

When the minister finally declared them husband and wife, Anthony didn’t wait a moment longer. He kissed Kate—slow, deep, and a little too long to be appropriate. Everyone just looked away politely and awkwardly, except the minister, who cleared his throat loudly.

The guests made their way inside for the luncheon, but Anthony kept Kate behind for just a moment longer. His hand slid into hers, tugging her gently toward him.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice low. He kissed her again, slowly and with a tenderness that made her knees weak.

"You look absolutely stunning, my viscountess," he whispered against her lips, his fingers trailing along the intricate beading of her veil. He stepped back to admire her, the morning light catching on the gold jewelry that shimmered all over her. "Truly, you are a vision."

Kate blushed, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. She touched the delicate hoop in her nose, smiling softly. "I don’t know how you managed all of this. Thank you."

“I was simply doing what Edwina told me,” he laughed.

Kate smiled, realizing for the first time how much Edwina and Anthony must have worked together to give her everything she was afraid to ask for. How awkward that must have been for both of them. To think they put up with their discomfort to give her something so meaningful…Kate almost broke down in tears.

By the time the ball was in full swing, Kate and Anthony had already shared their first dance. And then a second. And a third. It wasn’t long before Violet intercepted them, taking her son firmly by the arm.

"There are still rules, even for married men," she said, giving him a knowing look. Anthony laughed but reluctantly let Kate go, watching as she slipped away to get some air.

Kate found a quiet corner of the room and sipped lemonade, savoring the rare moment of peace. She knew it wouldn’t be long before another well-wisher approached, eager to congratulate the new viscountess—or, more likely, to marvel at her henna-stained hands and glittering jewelry. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes for just a moment.

A warm breath brushed against her neck.

"Come with me," Anthony whispered, his voice low.

Kate shivered at the sound of him, feeling his hand press lightly against the small of her back. Without a word, she let him guide her out of the crowded ballroom, slipping unnoticed into a quiet hallway.

The moment they were alone, Anthony pinned her against the wall, kissing her with a fervor that made her head spin. His lips moved against hers, unrestrained and full of promise.

He pulled back, just enough to whisper in her ear, "Would you prefer to return to the ballroom… or shall we retire to our bedchambers?"

Kate grinned, her pulse quickening. Without hesitation, she entwined her fingers with his and tugged him toward the viscount’s quarters.

When they reached the heavy oak doors of the master bedroom, Anthony pushed them open with a quiet creak, allowing Kate to step inside. He turned the key in the lock with a soft click, sealing them in their first true moment of privacy as husband and wife.

The look on Anthony’s face was intense, and Kate’s breath hitched at the way his gaze lingered on her.

"Let me help you undress," he murmured.

He led her to the adjoining dressing room, where she noticed with a warm flutter that her belongings had already been moved from the guest chambers. She was no longer a guest; she belonged here now. The thought made her smile.

Anthony pulled out the chair at her vanity, watching as Kate began to remove her jewelry, each piece gleaming in the soft lamplight. She slipped the heavy hoop from her nose and replaced it with the smaller one laid neatly on the vanity, her fingers moving with delicate precision. When she winced slightly, Anthony’s brow furrowed.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly, concern shadowing his features.

"It’s just tender," she assured him with a small smile. "I’ll be fine."

Her voice was light, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes that tugged at Anthony’s heart. She turned her back to him, the bare line of her neck visible above her gown. "Help me with my dress?"

He grinned. “With pleasure.”

His fingers moved with deliberate care, unfastening each button as though unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, Anthony swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

Kate tugged impatiently at the buttons of his shirt, her hands eager and unsteady. Anthony chuckled as he shrugged out of it, tossing it aside before lowering himself over her. His kisses started slow and deep, growing bolder as his hands explored her skin, warm and inviting beneath his touch.

When he slipped his hand between her thighs, Kate gasped, arching toward him. Anthony’s lips followed a slow path down her body until he was nestled between her legs, his breath warm against her skin. The first touch of his mouth made her moan, her hands flying to her own mouth to stifle the sound.

Anthony paused, pulling her hand gently away. "Don’t," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I want to hear you."

Her cries filled the room as he continued, each sound driving him deeper into his own need. The tension in her body built until she shattered, her hands tangled in his hair as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

When her breathing steadied, Anthony stood and removed his trousers, the last piece of clothing he had on. They were both completely bare together for the first time. His gaze darkened with desire, though it softened the moment he saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

"We won’t do anything you don’t want," he murmured, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

“I want to, Anthony. You know I do,” she whispered, her voice steady, though her cheeks flushed with both excitement and nerves. Anthony groaned softly, kissing her with renewed urgency.

"This might hurt," he warned, gently spreading her legs apart again as he positioned himself in between them. "But only this first time." His thumb brushed her cheek as his gaze locked with hers. "Tell me if it does. I will stop."

She nodded, and he felt her body tense beneath him. He kissed her again, his lips trailing to her ear. “Relax, please. I will be gentle,” he whispered. “I will take care of you.”

Kate nodded again, her breath catching as she felt the first careful push. “Oh!”

He stopped, his hand on her face again. “Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded, her face flushed pink. He slowly sunk all the way into her, watching as her eyes grew wide and then closed tightly.

She groaned from deep within herself. The sound sent tremors through him, and it took everything in him to stay measured and gentle. He forced himself to go slow, and carefully, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.

But she showed none, only faces and sounds of pleasure, and Anthony soon became overwhelmed with need. He grabbed her hips and thrust into her, hard, and she opened her eyes and looked directly at him, a whimper escaping her lips. He stilled immediately, worried he’d hurt her.

She shook her head quickly, hands grasping at his back. "Don’t stop."

The words undid him. With a growl of need, he thrust deeper, losing himself in the feel of her, in the way her body responded to his. In only a few strokes, pleasure overtook him. His forehead pressed to hers as he groaned her name, the world narrowing to the shared rhythm of their bodies and the sound of their mingled breaths.

When it was over, Anthony collapsed beside her, their limbs tangled in the aftermath of release. He propped himself on one elbow, studying her face.

"How do you feel?" he asked, brushing a thumb over her cheek.

To his alarm, he saw tears glistening in her eyes.

"Did I hurt you?" His voice was tight with worry, but Kate shook her head, smiling through the tears. She tried to talk but felt overcome. It was somehow both exactly like she imagined and completely different.

“No, no,” she finally managed to say. She took a deep breath and pulled his face to hers so she could kiss him. "It was perfect," she whispered.

He searched her face one more time, ensuring she was truly at peace, then tucked her into his arms. "It was worth the wait," she murmured, nestling against him.

They drifted into sleep, the room quiet except for the soft hum of their breathing.

Hours later, pale moonlight filtered through the windows, casting soft shadows across the room. Kate stirred, momentarily disoriented, until she remembered where she was. A smile spread across her face as she pressed herself against Anthony’s warm, sleeping body.

He looked different in sleep—softer, more at ease. The omnipresent lines on his forehead were slightly less severe, and the corners of his mouth held the hint of a smile.

She watched him breathe in and out, and then she let her eyes wander to the rest of his body. It was a warm night, and they had pushed the bedding away, sleeping without any sheets. Kate traced lazy patterns along his chest, her fingers drifting lower with quiet curiosity. Anthony stirred with a low groan, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

Before she knew it she was underneath him again as he thrust into her. She cried out as he pushed into her with need. He slowed down. “I’m sorry, I’ll be gentle,” he whispered.

“No.” She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him to her fast and hard. With a groan of surrender, Anthony lost himself in her moans once more.

Chapter Text

When Kate woke the next morning, the soft glow of sunlight warmed the room. She stirred, surprised to find Anthony already awake, his brown eyes crinkled with affection as he watched her.

“You look beautiful when you sleep,” he whispered, brushing a kiss across her temple. “I took the liberty of asking for breakfast to be brought here,” Anthony added, his tone light but his gaze lingering.

She smiled, relieved. She wasn’t ready to face the knowing looks of their family just yet, nor leave the sanctuary of their shared bed. As if sensing her thoughts, Anthony grinned.

“We’ll have to join them for dinner,” he said, trailing a finger down her arm. “Daphne and Simon leave for Clyvedon tomorrow morning. But until then...” He gave her a mischievous look. “We could stay here.”

Kate laughed softly and nodded. She studied him for a moment, marveling at how the morning light softened his features, giving his brown eyes a golden glow.

“Anthony?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

He leaned forward, eager to obey.

The day slipped by in lazy intimacy, each moment spent wrapped in each other. They explored each other’s bodies slowly, with breaks for food, conversation, and naps. In those quiet hours, Kate felt closer to Anthony than she ever had to anyone.

By late afternoon, reality intruded. They knew they had to face the world beyond their door, at least for a little while. Kate thought she’d feel more comfortable facing their family at dinner, but after the things Anthony had done to her today– and the things she had done to him– and the ways they had done those things…she was worried if she’d ever be able to look her mother in the eye again.

Claire knocked, loudly, at their chamber door and waited until she heard Kate say come in before she entered. “Lady Bridgerton, it’s time to dress for dinner.”

Anthony grumbled theatrically, earning a laugh from Kate as she followed Claire to bathe and dress. She chose a simple gown, one that would be easy to remove later, with only minimal jewelry. When she stepped out, Anthony was waiting, looking handsome as ever in his evening clothes.

He offered her his arm. “Ready, my love?”

“Aha! Look who finally decided to join us!” Benedict teased as Kate and Anthony entered the dining room. Kate blushed as a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention toward them.

Violet gave them a warm smile. “Hello, darlings. Thank you for joining us.”

Kate noticed, with a pang of realization, that Violet was no longer sitting at the head of the table. A servant pulled out that chair and gestured toward Kate.

“Lady Bridgerton.”

Anthony pressed a kiss to her cheek before making his way to the opposite end of the table. As Kate sat, a wave of disappointment hit her at how far they were from each other.

Apparently, Anthony felt the same. At the other end of the table, Benedict clapped his brother on the back with a grin. “Surely you can survive being apart for an hour?”
“Ah, but look at him,” Colin chimed in. “Blushing every time the new Lady Bridgerton looks his way. Who knew our stoic eldest brother could be so... besotted?”
“Enough,” Anthony said, though his smile betrayed him. Across the table, Kate caught his eye, her cheeks warming as she laughed softly at their teasing.

The meal dragged on endlessly for Kate. Though she tried to focus on the conversation around her, her thoughts kept wandering back to Anthony's mouth and his hands, and the way he had touched practically every part of her body with both of them. Every time she snuck a glance at him down the table, he was already looking her way, and it made her breath catch each time.

After dinner, the family gathered in the drawing room for a party game that Violet insisted upon. Kate and Anthony sat together on the settee, pretending to participate, though most of their attention remained fixed on each other. Anthony's hand rested comfortably on her waist, and Kate surprised herself with how easily she leaned into him, her hand resting casually on his thigh. She never imagined she could be so open with her affection in front of others. Yet it felt effortless now—natural, even—as though she had always belonged at Anthony’s side.

Finally, finally, after what felt like days but was only a few hours, the family bid each other goodnight. Anthony wasted no time leading Kate back to their room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, he pressed her against it, kissing her with a fervor that made her knees weak.

“That was torture,” he murmured against her skin, his breath warm on her neck.

Kate laughed, threading her fingers through his hair. “Yes, a lovely dinner with our family. Truly dreadful.”

Anthony chuckled, but his expression softened as he pulled back slightly.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You said, ‘our family,’” he whispered, his eyes gleaming. “I like the sound of that.”

Kate kissed him, and Anthony scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He began to undress her, taking his time and kissing every inch of her skin that was revealed to him as he pulled away each layer of clothing.

Kate arched into his hands, her breath hitching as his fingers trailed down her body and found her center. He leaned down and bit one of her nipples and she gasped as a bolt of pleasure radiated through her. Anthony grinned against her skin, his voice a low murmur. “I love the sounds you make.”

Kate tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer as he explored every inch of her with patient, deliberate care.

“Anthony,” she said. “I need you inside me.”

He groaned, standing to remove his trousers. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and spread her legs before pushing slowly inside her. He moved in and out of her slowly, and reached down to push his hand against her clit. Kate moaned so deeply he almost came just from the sound of her.

He pulled away from her, and she sat up and frowned at him.

“Lay down,” he said. She cocked her eyebrow at him. “Please,” he added, smirking. He slid into the bed next to her, turning her so that he was spooning her. She let out a surprised moan as he entered her from behind.

His arms wrapped tightly around her, grounding her in the moment as he whispered her name like a vow. One hand found her nipple and pinched it lightly, and the other made its way back to her center.

Kate’s breath quickened as Anthony pushed her closer to the edge, his hands moving in time with the gentle roll of his hips. Her soft whines filled the room, sounds she hadn’t known she could make. Anthony held her tighter, his own breath ragged as he whispered her name again, this time with reverence.

She felt herself at the edge when Anthony rolled her over so that he was on top of her. When the wave of pleasure finally overtook her, Kate cried out, burying her face in the pillow as her body trembled with ecstasy. Anthony groaned her name one last time before surrendering to his own pleasure.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Kate and Anthony roused themselves from their bed early so that they could say goodbye to the Basset family before they departed for Clyvedon. After seeing them off, Anthony asked Kate to accompany him to his study.

“I thought Benedict and Colin were helping you with work this week,” she said. She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She didn’t want Anthony to hunch over his desk all day.

Anthony opened the study door with a playful grin. “They are—but today is not about work.” He settled into the armchair behind his desk and, with a sly smile, patted his lap. “Come here, darling.”

She glanced towards the open door. He smiled. “You’re my wife now. Surely I am allowed to hold you in our own home?”

She laughed, crossing over to him and allowing him to wrap his arms around her. She looked at the desk and was surprised to see it covered in maps and calendars, not the ledgers she had expected. “What is all this?”

Anthony kissed her temple. “Our honeymoon.”

Kate blinked in surprise. “Our what?”

“I’ve been planning it,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “And I thought you might like to weigh in.”

Kate looked at the mess all over the desk, and she found a piece of parchment on which an itinerary was written. “Rome, Athens, Paphos, Cairo, Tunis…Anthony, there are a dozen cities on this list.” She looked at him. “Surely we can not go to all of them?”

“Do you not want to?” He asked, frowning.

“No, no!” Kate’s voice brimmed with excitement. “I would love it. I just... I didn’t expect something quite so grand. You have us traveling the Mediterranean coast for six months.”

“We will be in Ireland for a while too.” He kissed her neck. “And France.”

She shook her head, laughing in amazement. “What about your duties?”

“Benedict and Colin have already agreed to take care of everything while we’re away,” he said. “Though I suspect they will be holding it over my head for the rest of my life.”

She chuckled, gazing into his eyes. “This is incredible, Anthony.”

Anthony reached for another piece of parchment, pulling it toward her. “I thought we could leave next week... but then I learned your birthday is the 22nd.” He kissed the curve of her neck, his lips warm against her skin. “We could spend it in Paris—just the two of us—or, if you’d rather, with the whole family here at Aubrey Hall. We could ask them to stay a few more weeks.”

Her heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. “It would mean the world to me to spend more time with my family,” she whispered. “If that’s truly alright with you.”

Anthony pressed his forehead to hers. “It’s more than alright.” He pointed to the itinerary. “Then we leave at the end of August, starting with Paris. What do you think?”

Kate cupped his face, kissing him softly. “I think it sounds perfect. Thank you.”

Anthony kissed her again, slower this time, as though savoring the moment. Kate smiled against his lips, then glanced toward the door. “Does that door lock?”

Anthony chuckled, low and wicked. “No, but surely the help knows to knock.”

Kate bit her lip, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Perhaps. But I doubt the same could be said for your family.”

With a laugh, Anthony stood and scooped her into his arms. “Shall we continue this conversation in our bedroom?”

Kate let out a delighted squeal as he carried her through the hall, both of them stifling their laughter as they made their way to the staircase.

The moment the bedroom door clicked shut behind them, Anthony pushed Kate up against the door, his hands searching for her bare skin under her skirts. His fingers traced the curve of her thigh, drawing a shiver from her.

“Anthony...” she breathed, her heart racing as he kissed along her neck.

He hummed against her skin, taking his time, savoring the closeness. Kate began undoing the buttons of his shirt, but Anthony caught her hands, lifting her into his arms instead and laying her down on the bed.

Kate’s pulse thrummed as she pulled up her skirts, her gaze locked on Anthony’s as he knelt over her, pulling himself free of his trousers.

He went gently, slowly, enjoying watching the way her face grew more flushed with each deliberate movement he made. He put his hand between her legs and rubbed her while he moved as slow as he possibly could. He paid close attention to each twitch of her face, each breath she took until he knew she was just about to reach her climax.

“Yes, Kate, go on. Let go.” He moaned to her. “Come for me, darling.”

She did, and the moment he felt that first familiar clench, he let himself go, thrusting into her hard. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, and he felt himself spill into her.

Afterward, they lay side by side, their hands entwined beneath the covers. Kate blinked back tears she hadn’t realized were forming.

Anthony’s brow furrowed as he brushed a tear from her cheek. “Are you hurt?” he asked softly, concern clouding the satisfied look on his face.

Kate shook her head. She tried to find her words but couldn't. She smiled at him.

“Are you crying…in joy?” He asked, a smug smirk creeping across his face.

She pushed his grinning face away from hers, laughing. She finally recovered her speech. “It is just…a lot. Do not tease me.”

His smile softened. “I will never tease you about what happens in our bed.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You promise I am not hurting you?”

Kate looked into his eyes, the sincerity of his words settling deep within her. “I promise you,” she whispered. “I’ve never been happier.”

Later, Kate was alone for a rare moment while Anthony finished making their new travel arrangements. She sat in the cozy room where she and Daphne had shared tea just weeks before. Anthony had mentioned it could be her study, a private space just for her.

“I have an entire home to escape into if I want to be alone,” she’d teased.

Anthony’s smile had widened when she called Aubrey Hall home. “Regardless, it is still your room, whether you like to call it that or not.”

Kate had laughed at him, but she couldn’t deny it: it was a nice room to take a break from the bickering Bridgerton siblings in. She sank into a chair near the window, letting the warm sunlight wash over her face.

Edwina walked into the room, knocking on the open door frame. “Kate?”

She opened her eyes and smiled. “Edwina! Come in.”

Edwina perched on the settee, smoothing her dress with a nervous energy. “You look so content, Didi,” she said softly.

“I am.” Kate’s smile deepened. “I have not felt this happy in a long time.”

But Kate’s contentment flickered as she noticed tears welling in her sister’s eyes. She moved to the settee, wrapping an arm around Edwina’s shoulders. “Bon? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Edwina tried to laugh, but the sound was brittle. “I’m just so happy for you.”

“Edwina, talk to me,” Kate pleaded. “Is it Prince Friedrich? Did he hurt you?”

Edwina shook her head. “No, no, of course not. I am afraid I have hurt him.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kate.

Edwina sighed. “I'm not sure if you know but he called on me yesterday. “

“No, I'm sorry Edwina. Yesterday was…” she trailed off, blushing.

Edwina smiled. “It is alright. I am glad you were able to shut out the world for a while.” She sighed again. “Friedrich asked me to marry him.”

Kate blinked in surprise. “Oh, Edwina! That’s wonderful news, isn’t it?”

Edwina bit her lip. “It should be. I thought it would be. But…” She sighed, her expression pinched with guilt. "I told Friedrich I needed time to think about his proposal."

Kate’s brow furrowed.. "You hesitated?"

Edwina nodded miserably. "I panicked. I wanted to say yes, but then I thought... what if I’m wrong again? What if this isn’t real?" She looked down, twisting her hands in her lap. "I didn’t even notice how you and Anthony felt about each other until it was too late. What if I’m making another mistake?"

Kate’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her sister’s voice. She reached over, taking Edwina’s hands. "Oh, Bon. You didn’t see because you were trying so hard to be what everyone else wanted. That’s not the same as not knowing your own heart."

Edwina gave a small, sad laugh. "But what if I don’t know my heart? What if I only like Friedrich because he’s kind and princely and everything I thought I wanted?"

Kate smiled gently. "And what if you like him because he’s kind, princely, and everything you wanted? You don’t have to overthink it, Bon. Do you love him?"

Edwina hesitated, her voice soft. "I think I do. But what if he’s just... pretending?"

Kate shook her head. "Friedrich isn’t pretending. Do you know he asked Amma and me for permission to propose before he even spoke to you? He was so nervous, Bon—because he cares deeply about you."

Edwina’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh, Kate… That makes me feel so much better. I was so afraid he was only proposing because…” She blushed furiously and looked away.

“Because?” Kate prompted, narrowing her eyes.

Edwina’s blush deepened. “The night of your wedding ball…” Her eyes got a dreamy look in them. “We went to the orangery, and I—well, we…” she looked away from Kate's eyes, embarrassed. “I want to marry for love, not because he felt guilty about…well.”

Kate blinked, stunned, before bursting into unexpected laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Edwina asked, startled.

“Oh, Bon,” Kate said, wiping her eyes. “You and I are more alike than you know.” She squeezed her sister’s hands. “Please don't let your worries cloud your wants. Do you love Friedrich?”

Edwina nodded shyly.

“Then be brave,” Kate urged. “I know he loves you. He told me so himself.” She smiled at Edwina. “He told Amma and I that he had never met anyone like you. That you were the smartest, kindest person he knew. That he would be honored to even have the chance to ask for your hand.”

Edwina was crying again. “He said that? Really?”

Kate nodded. “Has he not said these things to you?”

Edwina smiled. “He has. But…it is nice to know his opinion is the same when I am not there to hear it.”

“Kate, I am– oh, Edwina. Hello.” Anthony walked into the room. His face twisted in concern when he saw Edwina’s tears. He sat in the armchair across from them. “What’s happened?”

Kate looked at Edwina, unsure how much she wanted Anthony to know. Edwina shook her head. “Friedrich asked for my hand, and I told him I was not sure,” she said.

Anthony’s brow furrowed. “But I thought you liked him.”

“I do!” Edwina groaned. “That's why I am upset. I don't know. I panicked.”

They were all silent for a moment. Anthony considered her thoughtfully. “Do you want to marry him?”

“Yes. I think so.” She let out a heavy sigh. “But how can I marry him when I barely know him? And Prussia! I don’t even speak German.” She looked at Kate. “Am I being silly?”

“No, not at all.” Kate said, shaking her head. “I am glad you are listening to your heart.” She looked at Anthony. “Perhaps we could invite Friedrich to stay with us here as well. Would that help, Bon? If he stayed here and you two could get to know each other better?”

Edwina blinked. “But aren’t you leaving for your honeymoon?”

Anthony gave her a small smile. “Our plans have changed. Kate wants to stay here and celebrate her birthday with everyone before we leave.” He smiled at Edwina. “If you would like Friedrich to stay with us for a few weeks, he is more than welcome.”

Edwina’s eyes shimmered with gratitude. “That’s… very kind of you, Anthony. Thank you.” She hesitated. “But what if I decide not to marry him? Won’t he hate me?”

Kate shook her head. “He’s being invited as our guest, not as a fiancé with guaranteed promises.” She gave her sister a knowing smile. “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll say yes in the end.”

Edwina sniffled. “You are married for all of two days and think you are an expert on love now,” she giggled.

At dinner that evening, Anthony made the announcement: “We’ve decided to delay our honeymoon and stay at Aubrey Hall a bit longer.”

Concerned murmurs broke out around the table, until he added, “We want to celebrate Kate’s birthday here with all of you on the 22nd.”

Excitement rippled through the room.

Benedict laughed. “Surely you would rather be alone on your honeymoon than spending another three weeks with us all?”

Anthony smirked at his brother. “Well, it's what Kate wants,” he said, laughing. Kate shot him a playful glare. “I’m teasing. I am looking forward to more time with our family as well.”

Hyacinth clapped her hands. “Will there be a ball?”

Anthony shrugged, looking to Kate. “Would you like a ball, Kate?” he asked.

Hyacinth nodded eagerly at Kate, who laughed and shook her head. “No, I'm sorry, Hyacinth. No ball. But… I’d love a small dinner party in the orangery, if it’s possible.”

Violet grinned. “What a lovely idea.” She gestured to Mrs Wilson, who made a note in her planner.

Anthony grinned. “We’ll make it happen. A dinner party in the orangery for my beautiful wife’s birthday.”

Later that night, Anthony waited for Kate in their room, his pulse quickening the moment she appeared in the doorway.

“How is it you become more beautiful every time I see you?” he whispered, pulling her into his arms.

Kate laughed, the ivory silk of her nightdress glowing gold in the candlelight. “You flatter me too much.”

“Never,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck. He picked her up and brought her to the bed.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured into her skin.

“I want…” she trailed off, a blush creeping over her face. He stopped and looked at her. His face split into a cocky grin when he saw her pink cheeks.

“What is it? Tell me,” he said, his voice low. “Please.”

“Do you remember when I wore the blue one the other night?” she said, gesturing to her nightdress.

His grin turned wicked. “Oh, I remember.”

“You said you would not be able to control yourself…” she trailed off. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You do not have to control yourself anymore,” she said, looking him in the eyes.

Anthony hesitated. “I want to make it good for you,” he said.

“It will be good for me if it is good for you,” she said. “Please, Anthony. I know you have been holding yourself back. I want…I want you to do what you want with me.”

He groaned, grabbing her by the ankles and pulling her towards him. He pushed up the short skirt of her lingerie and put his hand between her legs to make sure she was ready for him, and then he thrust himself inside her, hard.

She gasped in surprise, closing her eyes and crying out loudly. He paused, unsure if it was from pain or pleasure. “Did that hurt you?” he said.

“No, Anthony, it feels good,” she said.

He groaned. “You must tell me if you like it,” he said, pushing into her hard again. “Tell me how it feels.”

She gasped. “Good, it feels good.”

He pulled out slowly and pushed into her, harder still. “Do you like this?”

“Yes,” Kate moaned. “Faster.”

He groaned, and did as she said. Kate was watching him, her face pinched in what he was still unsure was pain or pleasure. But she was saying “Yes, Anthony, yes, yes,” and it wasn’t long until he was right at the edge. He watched as she put her hand between them and touched herself, and he couldn’t help it, he immediately exploded inside her.

Kate wrapped her legs around his back, pulling him close as she continued to finger herself. He held himself against her, panting, as she moved herself against him until she too was shuddering with waves of pleasure. Anthony groaned into her ear when he felt her body clenching around him, and the sensation of his breath in her ear sent her over the edge again. She cried out something that Anthony was unsure was in English or Hindi, or maybe even Greek, but he understood it meant she liked it by the moan that accompanied it.

He chuckled as he slipped out of her and pulled back to kiss her face. She was breathing heavily and there were tears at the corners of her eyes again. It still frightened Anthony to see her cry, but she assured him it was from the release she felt. He kissed her forehead.

“What did you say?”

“What?” she asked, catching her breath.

“You yelled out something. I do not know if it was in English or not.”

"Oh," Kate blushed. “I have no idea. I was not…I do not think it was a conscious decision.”

He barked with laughter. Kate smiled. It was nice to hear the full strength of his laugh at night, after a week of whispers while they snuck around. He kissed her.

“I know you speak Hindi when you panic, and you like to argue in English,” he said. “I am excited to find out what language you make love in.”

She laughed. “I argue in English because that is the language you speak, and you are the only one I argue with.”

He kissed her again. “I speak French too if you would prefer to argue en français.”

“Je préfère que tu ne me donnes pas du tout envie d'être en désaccord avec toi,” she said, pulling him in for another kiss.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over Kate and Anthony's shared bed. Anthony lay on his back, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along the bare skin of Kate’s shoulder. She rested her head against his chest, her hair tumbling across his skin like silk.

“Do you think anyone will notice if we skip lunch?” Anthony murmured, his lips brushing the top of her head.

Kate laughed softly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “We’ve already missed breakfast. If we don’t show up soon, someone will come looking for us.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Anthony said, his voice laced with mock outrage as he pulled her closer. “I’m a married man now. Surely I’m allowed a few indulgent mornings with my wife.” His voice dropped, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Besides, I’m not ready to share you yet.”

Kate rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress her smile. “You’ll have to make it quick, then,” she teased, giggling as Anthony moved swiftly to position himself above her. “But you’re explaining to our family why we’re late again.”

Anthony grinned, leaning down to kiss her deeply, his touch igniting a warmth that chased away any lingering thoughts of propriety. Lunch would have to wait.

By the time they arrived in the dining room, the family was already halfway through their meal. Colin looked up from his plate, an eyebrow raised as they entered.

“Just in time,” he said with a smirk. “We’re almost finished.”

Kate flushed, but Anthony, unbothered, simply laughed and led her to their seats. “We were… otherwise occupied,” he said nonchalantly, earning a chorus of chuckles and groans from his siblings.

“Kate, will you please be on my team for charades?” Hyacinth asked brightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She turned to Anthony with an expression of exaggerated seriousness. “No offense, Anthony, but I do not want you on my team. You’re terrible at it.”

Anthony’s jaw dropped in mock offense as the table erupted into laughter. “I am not terrible,” he said indignantly. “I’m simply… misunderstood.”

Kate laughed, but her smile faltered when she saw the mischievous gleam in Hyacinth’s eyes. As much as she loved the Bridgerton family, she wanted nothing more than to escape back to their bedroom. One glance at Anthony told her he was thinking the same thing.

“I’m not sure we’re up for games today,” Anthony said, shooting his youngest sister a pointed look.

“Come on,” Benedict said, his voice dripping with faux sincerity. “Surely you can spare an hour of your… busy day to spend time with your beloved family.”

“Yes, please?” Hyacinth added, her eyes wide with practiced innocence. Kate had seen that look before; she doubted even Anthony could resist it.

Anthony sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat. “Fine. One hour.”

Eloise smirked from across the table. “You know, it’s starting to feel like you’re avoiding us.”

“We’re trying to,” Anthony muttered, earning another round of laughter.

The drawing room buzzed with activity as the family split into teams, the room alive with chatter and playful bickering.

Edwina nudged Kate playfully. “I’m only playing because you are. You’ve seen how they play. We’ll be here for hours.”

Kate laughed, just as Hyacinth and Gregory began squabbling over which team would be saddled with Anthony. He stood between them, arms crossed, as if trying to prove his worth.

“You’ll regret leaving me out,” he said with mock seriousness. “I am a charades expert.”

Mary and Violet sat together by the window, watching the chaos unfold. Mary leaned in, her voice soft. “It’s wonderful to see them all like this.”

Violet nodded, her expression warm. “It is. I’ve always dreamed of my children finding such happiness. Seeing Anthony with Kate…” She trailed off, her eyes misty.

Mary patted her hand gently. “I know what you mean. It’s a joy to see Kate so at ease—and so in love.”

Violet smiled. “They’ve both found something rare. It’s a blessing.”

As the games began, Kate and Anthony quickly found themselves swept up in the lively atmosphere. Hyacinth acted out her clues with exaggerated gestures, Gregory’s guesses becoming increasingly ridiculous as the round wore on. Benedict’s over-the-top performances had everyone in stitches, while Colin’s sarcastic commentary kept the game lively.

Kate found herself laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face, her earlier plans to retreat forgotten. Even Anthony, who had seemed so reluctant at first, was grinning ear to ear as he threw himself into the game, delighting everyone with his surprisingly animated portrayal of a peacock.

“See?” Hyacinth said smugly. “I told you he’d be terrible.”

“I was excellent,” Anthony retorted, earning another round of laughter.

When the final round ended hours later, the family was breathless with laughter, the room filled with the warmth of shared joy. Anthony slipped an arm around Kate’s waist, pulling her close as they prepared to leave.

“Admit it,” she teased. “You had fun.”

Anthony leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “It was tolerable,” he said with a smirk, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed him. Kate laughed, resting her head against his shoulder as they made their way back upstairs.

Chapter Text

The days after melted together into a haze of touch and desire. If someone had asked Kate to describe them, she would have been at a loss for words—everything but Anthony had fallen away. His hands on her skin, his mouth trailing fire over every inch of her body, the weight of him above and within her. She honestly nearly forgot anyone else was in the house, since she and Anthony spent so much time locked in their bedroom.

So she was surprised to find out that Lady Danbury had left two days earlier. “She’ll be back for your birthday party,” Edwina told her. “She had a schedule to keep and you two kept her waiting.” She laughed as Kate blushed. “You do know Prince Friedrich arrived yesterday?”

Kate laughed. “Yes, I do remember greeting him. How have you been enjoying his company?”

Edwina’s face softened into a dreamy smile. “He’s been teaching me German.”

Kate grinned knowingly, catching the flush on her sister’s cheeks. She could tell by the look on Edwina’s face that she would be accepting Friedrich’s proposal before the week was out. She was about to tell her as much when Anthony poked his head in the room.

“Pardon me,” he said, nodding at Edwina. “Kate, I need your opinion on a few honeymoon details when you’re finished here.”

Edwina gave Kate’s hand a playful squeeze. “Go on, Didi. Don’t keep your husband waiting.”

Kate followed Anthony out of the parlor, her pulse quickening as he led her toward their room. There was something about the way he moved—deliberate, with just a hint of smug satisfaction—that made her heart race.

She arched an eyebrow as he gestured toward the door. “What exactly did you need from me?”

He only grinned, kicking the door shut behind them. “This,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he cupped her face, kissing her deeply. “I needed to be alone with you.”

Before she could respond, he swept her into his arms, carrying her to the armchair by the fireplace. She gasped as he settled her in his lap, his hands already working at the laces of her dress. His lips found her neck, trailing down to her collarbone, and she felt the hard press of his arousal beneath her.

Desire coiled hot and heavy in her belly. She kissed him back fiercely, her hands moving to unbutton his shirt, hungry to touch him. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more—needed him. Sliding off his lap, she dropped to her knees before him, her fingers already tugging at the waistband of his trousers.

Anthony stilled her with a hand on her wrist. “You don’t have to,” he whispered, searching her face. “Only if you want to.”

Kate’s breath hitched as she met his gaze. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to,” she murmured, brushing his hand aside and freeing him from his clothes.

The groan that escaped him sent a shiver down her spine. He leaned back in the chair, his dark eyes watching her every movement as she wrapped her hand around him, slow and deliberate.

“Promise me,” he rasped, his voice tight with restraint.

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll never do anything you don’t enjoy.”

“I promise,” she said. “And I do like this,” she whispered before lowering her mouth to him.

Anthony’s head fell back against the chair with a curse, his fingers tangling in her hair as she took her time with him, savoring every sound of pleasure that escaped his lips.

Anthony watched her, on her knees before him in her jewels and fancy dress, her lips and hands working in tandem, and he imagined her covered in his seed, her delicate braids and silk ruined by the stain of him. A growl rumbled from deep within his chest.

“Bed. Now,” he ordered, his voice rough with need.

Kate didn’t argue with his order for once, rising to her feet and moving to the edge of the bed. She lifted her skirts, offering herself to him with a look that made his pulse hammer.

He was on her in an instant, flipping her over onto the mattress. Her breath left her in a rush as he spread her legs with his knees, his hands gripping her hips. He pushed her, facedown, into the bed. The first thrust stole her breath entirely—quick, hard, and deep.

She gasped, her fingers clutching the bedsheets as pleasure jolted through her. “Oh—Anthony…”

The sound of her voice, breathless and wanting, undid him. He lost himself in her, driving into her with a rhythm that was almost punishing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should slow down—knew he should be gentle. This was not the way he was supposed to make love to his wife. This was how you fucked a whore, not took care of a woman you loved. But the way Kate moaned beneath him, the way her body arched to meet his thrusts, made it impossible to stop.

He buried himself deeper, his teeth gritted against the overwhelming pleasure. “God, Kate…”

The bed creaked under the force of their coupling, sliding slightly across the floor with his final, desperate thrust. He cursed as release crashed over him, his body tensing as he spilled into her with a groan.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Anthony stayed pressed against her, his breath hot against her shoulder, his mind reeling from the intensity of it all.

Then, guilt began to creep in, sharp and unwelcome. He withdrew from her carefully, collapsing onto the bed beside her.

“Kate,” he whispered between his labored breaths.

She hummed softly, her eyes closed.

“I…” He hesitated, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him, concern and confusion clouding the rosy glow of her face. “What for?”

“I should not– I should have…” He paused. “I’ll make it better for you next time.”

Kate shook her head. “Anthony,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Look at me.”

He turned to meet her gaze, guilt still gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

She smiled, reaching out to brush a lock of damp hair from his forehead. “Anthony, I… I really liked that,” she whispered.

His face cracked into a slow grin as she blushed. “Did you?” he asked, his voice a mix of lust and disbelief. She nodded, her blush deepening. “But…did you…” he trailed off. “It was good for you?”

She nodded again, smiling at the earnest look on his face. “Yes,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss him. “Very good.”

Chapter Text

Rain lashed against the windows of Aubrey Hall, the steady downpour turning the grounds into a shimmering sea of silver. Inside, the family gathered in the drawing room, a warm fire crackling in the hearth as the storm raged on. Their lively chatter filled the air, mingling with the occasional burst of laughter.

Hyacinth peered out the window with a dramatic sigh. “It’s been raining forever.”

“It’s been raining for two hours,” Colin corrected from an armchair, where a book lay abandoned on his lap.

“Well, it feels like forever,” Gregory grumbled, slumping over the chessboard he was half-heartedly playing with Benedict. “Everything fun is outside.”

“You could always help Mrs. Wilson polish the silver,” Violet suggested sweetly, her arched brow giving away her true meaning.

Gregory groaned. “We’d die of boredom.”

“There must be something fun we can do,” Hyacinth declared, flopping onto the nearest sofa.

Anthony, making another rare appearance with Kate, exchanged a look with her. “We could sit quietly for five minutes,” he suggested dryly. “That might be fun.”

“That would be unprecedented,” Kate teased, chuckling.

Edwina, seated nearby with Friedrich, stifled a giggle. “It’s not so bad being indoors when you have good company,” Friedrich said. He smiled softly at her, his gaze lingering.

Francesca, who had been quietly embroidering, set her work aside. “Why don’t we have some music? I could play the piano.”

Hyacinth perked up immediately. “Yes! And we can dance!”

“You can’t dance,” Gregory pointed out, earning a glare.

“I can too!” she shot back. “I’ll show you.”

Violet clapped her hands lightly, her smile indulgent. “That sounds like a splendid idea. Francesca, if you please?”

Francesca rose gracefully, moving to the piano in the corner of the room. The first notes she played were soft, testing the sound, but soon transitioned into a lively tune that filled the space with warmth and cheer.

“Shall we, my lady?” Colin asked Hyacinth with an exaggerated bow. She giggled and curtsied before taking his hand.

As Colin spun Hyacinth around with dramatic flair, Gregory jumped in, grabbing Eloise’s hand despite her protests. “I’ll show you real dancing,” he declared, pulling her into an exaggerated waltz that had her doubling over with laughter.

Kate, watching the chaos unfold, leaned closer to Anthony. “They’re certainly entertaining.”

Anthony smirked, his arm draped casually over the back of the sofa. “Terrible form, every last one of them.”

Kate tilted her head toward him, her eyes dancing with challenge. “Perhaps you should show them how it’s done.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a slow grin. “Come, then.” He stood, extending his hand to her. “Let’s put them all to shame.”

Kate laughed as she took his hand, letting him lead her to the center of the room. Francesca transitioned seamlessly into a more elegant waltz, and Anthony swept Kate into his arms. They moved together effortlessly, their steps in perfect harmony.

“They’re disgustingly good at this,” Colin muttered, earning an affectionate shove from Hyacinth.

“They’re in love,” Violet said softly, her eyes shimmering as she watched her eldest son guide his wife across the floor.

Edwina, watching from her seat, felt Friedrich’s hand brush hers. She turned to find him smiling. “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding, letting him lead her to the floor. As they joined the dance, Kate caught Edwina’s gaze, her grin widening at her sister’s bashful smile.

As the waltz ended, Anthony dipped Kate low, earning applause from their audience. Friedrich, too, spun Edwina gently, her laughter lighting up the room.

“One more!” Gregory demanded, though he was already out of breath.

Francesca obliged, launching into a lively jig that threw the room into chaos. Even Mary and Violet joined in, taking turns with the younger Bridgertons for spirited spins.

As the day wore on, the storm outside was all but forgotten, the sound of rain drowned out by the music and the joy of family. Kate leaned against Anthony as they watched Benedict twirl Hyacinth so fast she nearly tripped.

Anthony smiled, his arm slipping around her waist. “As much fun as this is,” he murmured, chuckling warmly in her ear, “I’d much prefer to take you back to our bed now.”

She laughed, allowing him to lead her out of the room while the rest of their family was having too much fun to notice.

As the rain eased and the house quieted, Kate found herself sitting with Mary and Edwina by the fire. Anthony had gone to his study to address some work, leaving the three women to share a quiet moment.

Mary sipped her tea, her gaze soft as it drifted over her daughters. “My beautiful girls,” she began, her voice filled with emotion. “Watching you both today… It warmed my heart to see you dancing in the arms of men who love you so dearly.”

Kate reached for her mother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Amma.”

Mary’s eyes glistened. “Your father would have been so proud. It’s a joy I didn’t dare hope for—to see you both so happy.”

Edwina, who had been quiet, glanced down at her hands. “It felt…nice,” she admitted softly, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Dancing with Friedrich. He’s so kind. He makes me feel…safe.”

Kate’s heart swelled at her sister’s vulnerability. “He adores you, Bon. Anyone can see it.”

Edwina looked up, her expression uncertain but thoughtful. “I think…I think I’m starting to see it too. But what if I’m wrong? What if…”

Mary placed a reassuring hand on Edwina’s arm. “No matter what you decide, we’ll be here for you.”

Kate nodded, putting an arm around her sister and holding her close. “You must do what makes your heart the happiest. And when you’re ready, you’ll know.”

Edwina leaned into her sister, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes replaced by a quiet determination.

Chapter Text

The orangery was bathed in warm sunlight, casting a soft glow over Kate as she lounged with a book open on her lap. Yet, the words blurred on the page, her thoughts slipping to the night before—and the nights before that. Recently, Kate had made it clear to Anthony: she was no delicate flower. And last night, he had finally stopped holding back.

The memory alone sent a flush creeping up her neck. Bent over the edge of their bed, she had been helpless beneath him, the slap of their bodies muffled only by his hand clamped over her mouth. Their family still filled the house, and Anthony had silenced her when a particularly loud cry escaped. The thrill of it—being silenced, pinned down, utterly at his mercy—had unraveled her. Her legs had given out, but Anthony had held her steady, pressing her into the bed as he lost himself inside her with a guttural groan.

Kate sighed, feeling herself dampen at the core when she remembered how he had moaned her name when he pushed into her one final time. She clenched her legs together, savoring the dull throb in her muscles, the way it whispered Anthony with every step she took.

The orangery door creaked open, startling her from her thoughts. Kate quickly cleared her throat and fanned her face, hoping to dispel the heat rising in her cheeks.

Edwina peeked in hesitantly. “Is this a good time to talk?”

Kate closed her book, looking at her sister. “Of course. What is it?” She patted the seat next to her and Edwina came and sat down.

Edwina smiled at her sister. “I am going to accept Friedrich’s proposal.”

Kate’s face broke into a radiant grin. “Oh, Edwina, that’s wonderful!” But her smile dimmed as she noticed the uncertainty flicker across her sister’s features. “You don’t seem entirely happy about it.”

Edwina shook her head, her voice tentative. “I am happy… just nervous about what a change it will be. When I move to Prussia.” She looked at Kate. “I have just been thinking about how I will know nobody but Friedrich.”

Kate’s brow furrowed in understanding. “You want Amma to go with you.”

A grateful nod. “Yes. I thought, since you have Anthony and the entire Bridgerton family, perhaps…” Edwina hesitated, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I hate to ask.”

Kate reached for her sister’s hand with a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to ask, Edwina. Amma will go with you.”

Edwina looked surprised, then relieved. “Oh, Kate, are you certain?”

“Of course. Did you think I’d let you travel so far from us alone?” Kate smiled warmly. “And don’t think for a moment that you won’t see me. Prussia and England are not that far from each other. I will visit you.”

Edwina let out a relieved laugh. “You’d better!”

Later that evening, Anthony waited in their bedchamber, seated in an armchair near the empty hearth. His gaze drifted toward Kate’s dressing room door, anticipation humming under his skin. When the door creaked open, his breath caught.

Kate stepped out, draped in an ivory silk robe that shimmered in the low light. Her dark curls spilled over one shoulder, framing her face in a way that made his pulse stutter.

He stood, crossing the room in two strides to pull her into his arms. His hands slid beneath the silk, reveling in the soft warmth of her skin.

With a low growl, Anthony swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. He kissed her deeply, spreading her legs apart to nestle between them. But as he shifted his weight, Kate winced, her thighs tensing involuntarily.

He paused, concern flickering across his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, trying to brush it off.

His eyes darkened with worry. “Kate, you winced.”

“It’s just—” She bit her lip. “I’m a little sore, that’s all. It’s nothing, really.”

Anthony’s frown deepened. “Kate.”

Her heart softened at the genuine concern in his voice. She reached up, cupping his face. “It’s just my body adjusting to yours,” she whispered, trailing her fingers down the line of his jaw, over his neck, and along the hard plane of his chest.

He sucked in a breath, visibly restraining himself. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

Kate’s gaze locked with his, unwavering. “Anthony,” she whispered, her voice low and deliberate, “the ache is worth the satisfaction.”

His breath hitched, his control slipping. “God, Kate,” he groaned, dropping his forehead against hers. “Do you have any idea what you do to me when you say things like that?”

Kate grinned. “Show me.”

With a growl of pure desire, Anthony crushed his mouth against hers, any remaining restraint vanishing as he lost himself in the woman who had become his entire world.

Chapter Text

By Monday afternoon, Mary, Edwina, and Friedrich had left for the queen’s country estate to begin wedding plans. By Tuesday, the rest of the Bridgerton family had followed suit, promising to return in time for Kate’s birthday. Kate suspected this exodus was Anthony’s doing—a calculated attempt to get her all to himself. If so, she was grateful for it. She enjoyed the noise of family, but the quiet moments with Anthony were becoming her favorite.

That afternoon, she found him in his study, stifling yawns as he sorted through endless columns of numbers. At the sight of her, his bored expression melted into a grin.

“Kate,” he said warmly.

She crossed the room and settled herself comfortably on his lap. “How much longer will this take?”

He sighed dramatically. “Forever. But since you're here, I’m inclined to abandon it.” He leaned into her, his head resting against her chest as she stroked his hair. His eyes fluttered shut, and his body relaxed beneath her touch, as though every tension in the world had evaporated. “You have no idea how much I love holding you like this.”

She kissed the top of his head. “How did you convince everyone to leave?”

He laughed, shaking her body. “They needed no persuasion. I’m sure they’ve heard enough of us.”

Kate’s cheeks turned hot pink, a horrified look on her face. “Anthony!”

“I’m teasing. No one’s heard anything.” He kissed her, then paused. “I don’t think so, anyway.”

She swatted at him, but his laughter was infectious. “You’ll just have to be quieter next time,” he teased. He kissed her again, snaking his arms around her and holding her tightly. “Would you like to go to our room and practice?”

“Later,” she promised, giggling at his disappointment. “Let’s go to the lake first. It’s too hot to be indoors.”

At the small lake in Aubrey Hall's gardens, Kate slipped off her shoes and stockings, lifting her dress so she could wade in the water. She closed her eyes, relishing the coolness against her skin.

“This is nice,” she said, smiling at Anthony. “The water is perfect.”

He removed his boots reluctantly, and rolled up his pants to join her. He jumped when the water touched his toes. “It’s freezing!”

Kate laughed, her joy as bright as the sunlight dancing on the water. “You’re being dramatic,” she said, splashing him playfully.

“You’re going to get soaked.” Anthony hesitated at the water’s edge, eyeing her skirts as she walked farther into the lake. “Kate.”

She smiled, and after a glance around to ensure their privacy, she began undoing the buttons of her dress. “Hold this for me?” she asked, handing it to him. He stared, mesmerized, as she slipped into the water wearing only her shift.

“Are you coming in or just going to watch?” she teased, already swimming out toward the middle of the lake with ease.

“I think I’ll enjoy the view from here.” He grinned, making no move to join her but sitting down on the grass with her dress bundled in his lap. He held it to his face, inhaling the scent of lilies lingering on the fabric.

Kate swam leisurely, her strokes graceful and unhurried. Anthony flagged down a maid, asking for towels and a blanket, then sent her away with strict instructions not to disturb them again.

When Kate emerged from the water, Anthony was waiting with a towel, wrapping her snugly in the sun-warmed cotton. “You missed out,” she teased.

“I missed nothing.” He kissed her, his lips brushing against her wet skin, indifferent to the water soaking into his clothes. “Come lie down.”

They stretched out on the blanket under the sun, Kate’s damp shift clinging to her skin. Anthony’s gaze lingered on her, admiration clear in his eyes. Her nipples were hard and he swallowed the lump of desire that raised in his throat.

She opened her eyes and caught him staring at her. She giggled. “What?”

“You are so beautiful,” he said. He reached over and let his hand cup her breast through the damp cloth. He pinched her nipple and she gasped in surprise.

“Anthony!” She looked around.

“I told the staff to leave us alone,” he said, rolling over on top of her as he pushed up her damp shift. “Take this off,” he said, his voice low and rough. He pulled it over her head and she shivered as the warm breeze caressed her naked body. Anthony’s mouth traced her curves and then he was pushing her legs apart while he removed himself from his trousers.

He stared at her for a moment. She blushed under the intensity of his gaze. “What?”

“You are just…so beautiful,” he said. She seemed to glow golden beneath him in the sunlight. He had the thought, not for the first time, that this was a dream. He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers wandering down her neck and chest to make sure she was truly there beneath him.

She flushed, both at his words and the intensity of his gaze. “You’ve said that already.”

“It bears repeating,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

That night at dinner, since it was just the two of them, they sat next to each other at the large dining table.

“This is nice,” Kate murmured, glancing at Anthony.

Anthony smiled at her. “What is? Dinner?” He looked at his plate, where there were some roasted vegetables and lamb left. “It is pretty good.”

She laughed. “No. Well, yes. But I meant this,” she paused, gesturing towards the both of them. “It’s nice to have dinner with just you.”

“Do you want me to write our families and tell them not to come back after all?” he asked, smiling.

“No!” She laughed. “I enjoy spending time with them all. But…I like when it is just the two of us as well.”

Anthony smiled at her. “Me too.” He leaned over and kissed her, then stabbed at the last piece of meat on her plate before popping it into his mouth and smiling at her impishly.

Later that night, Anthony lounged in an armchair, waiting for Kate to join him in bed. When she took longer than usual, he listened carefully and heard movement in the adjoining suite. Just as he was about to investigate, Kate entered their room, looking sheepish.

He nodded his head towards the commotion in the viscountess’s quarters. “What is it?”

“I asked Claire to set up the other bed for me,” she replied, avoiding his eyes.

Anthony frowned. “Why?”

“I started my courses,” she explained.

“Oh.” He tilted his head. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I’m fine,” she answered, hesitating. “I just thought… you might not want me in bed with you.”

His expression shifted, hurt flickering in his eyes. “Kate. I don’t care about that.” He stood and walked over to her, taking her hand. “You belong in our bed, always.”

Kate smirked. “I thought men were supposed to be scared of the woman’s curse.”

“I have sisters,” he said, shrugging. “You’ve met them. We’re not exactly a… shy family.” Kate laughed. “Now, are you going to come to our bed yourself or do I have to carry you to it?”

She laughed, relieved, and followed him to their bed. As they settled under the covers, Kate rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Are you…disappointed?” Kate asked, her voice small.

“What do you mean?”

“We are finally alone and we can not…enjoy it.”

Anthony laughed. “I am enjoying this. Are you not?” He kissed the top of her head.

“You know what I mean.” She blushed, pushing herself away from him. “Are you upset that I can not fulfill my…wifely duties to you tonight?” Kate’s cheeks warmed as she voiced her concern, a remnant of the expectations she had been raised to believe. Even though she trusted Anthony, a small part of her wondered if his patience could truly stretch beyond the constraints of propriety.

“Kate.” Anthony reeled back to look her directly in the eyes. “I hope you are never acting out of a sense of duty when we are in bed together.” He was quiet until she returned his gaze and shook her head. “I don't…I do not care about your…wifely duties, as you put it.” He sneered a little at the phrase. “I only want your company.”

Kate smiled. “You know, you are revealing yourself to be much sweeter than I ever thought possible for a capital-R Rake.”

He scoffed. “I will kill that Whistledown woman if I ever find her.”

“You and half the ton, I am sure,” Kate giggled. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, content in each other’s presence.

“Anthony?” Kate whispered after a moment.

“Yes?”

“You know…I am a little disappointed.”

“What do you mean?” He looked at her and grinned at the look on her face. “You were looking forward to being alone tonight?”

She nodded, and Anthony maneuvered so that he was hovering over top of her. “You know…” he said, trailing off as his eyes wandered down her body hungrily.

“What?”

“I do not mind…if you do not.” He paused. “If you want to.”

Kate smiled hesitantly when she realized what he was asking. “Are you certain?”

He nodded, that damned devilish smirk of his appearing. That expression alone made her weak in the knees. “What’s a little blood if I get to hear you scream?”

“Anthony!” she said, but her laughter was cut off by the ferocity of his kiss.

Chapter Text

The house was silent, save for the soft chirp of crickets drifting through the open window and Anthony’s soft snores beside her. Kate lay on her back, staring into the dark as the heat of the night pressed down on her.

Anthony’s warm body, usually a comfort, was instead contributing to her restlessness. She quietly slipped out of bed, grabbing a deep purple shawl on her way out the door. She padded down the hallway and out into the gardens, savoring the cool, quiet night.

The grass beneath her was damp with dew, but she didn’t care. She lay back, letting the cool earth anchor her. Above her, the sky was an endless expanse of stars. She traced the patterns of constellations with her eyes, her thoughts meandering, when a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Are you stargazing, or just avoiding me?”

She turned her head, smiling as Anthony approached, a blanket folded under his arm. His hair was mussed from sleep, and he carried himself with a languid ease.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, sitting up as he spread the blanket beside her.

“Is it the heat keeping you up, or is something troubling you?” he asked.

She lay back on the blanket next to him, pressing a kiss to his lips before returning her gaze to the stars. “Nothing could trouble me now,” she murmured, her voice soft with contentment. “I’m so happy.”

Anthony smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Me too.”

For a while, they lay in companionable silence, the stars glittering like scattered diamonds above them. Then Anthony pointed upward, his voice low and thoughtful.

“There’s Orion, the hunter,” he said, tracing the constellation with his finger. “And that’s Cassiopeia, the queen. And, of course, Ursa Major—the big bear.”

Kate smiled, following his hand. “In India, that one is called Saptarishi. The seven sages of Hinduism. That one,” she said, pointing to the second star, “is Vashishtha. The smaller star beside it is his wife, Arundhati.”

Anthony turned to her, curiosity lighting his eyes. “What’s the story behind them?”

“They were sages known for their wisdom and devotion,” Kate explained, her voice taking on a storyteller’s cadence. “Vashishtha was a great teacher, revered for his spirituality and intellect. Arundhati was his wife—equally wise and devoted. Their love and partnership were seen as the ideal marriage, one built on mutual respect and support.”

Anthony watched her, captivated. Kate continued. “Newlyweds are often reminded to look at Arundhati and Vashishtha in the sky. It’s a reminder of the virtues a marriage should strive for—balance, understanding, loyalty.”

“That’s exactly what I want for us, Kate,” Anthony’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing the back of her hand. “I’ll think of you whenever I see those stars now.”

Kate smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “And I’ll think of you.”

Anthony’s voice grew thoughtful. “Our children will be lucky.”

Kate turned her head to look at him. “Lucky?”

He nodded, his expression tender. “They’ll grow up with both your world and mine. Stories of the sages and the stars, of India and England.” He paused, his hand tightening around hers. “We can give them the whole world, Kate.”

Her throat tightened with emotion. “Anthony, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they gazed at the sky. Kate yawned, resting her head on Anthony’s chest. They stayed like that until the first blush of dawn crept across the horizon. Anthony gently nudged her awake, and they walked hand-in-hand back to their bed, the promise of the day ahead glowing as warmly as the stars they left behind.

Chapter Text

Mary and Edwina were the first of their family to return to Aubrey Hall. “Where is everyone?” Mary asked, walking into the unusually quiet house Sunday afternoon.

Kate hugged her mother and sister warmly. “Called back to London for various convenient reasons,” she said with a smile. “Where is Friedrich?”

Edwina’s lips twisted into a pout. “He won’t be able to return until Wednesday.”

Kate chuckled at the forlorn expression. “Come now, Bon. Surely you can manage a few days without him?”

Edwina huffed but smiled, giving Kate a playful shove. “You have no right to tease me. I am not nearly half as bad as you,” she giggled. “I assume you and Anthony have been enjoying the time alone? Would you like Amma and I to leave again?”

In the drawing room, Kate was nibbling at a shortbread biscuit while Edwina and Mary told her about their visit with the queen and the upcoming wedding. Edwina excitedly told Kate they were able to convince the queen to hold the wedding the final Saturday in August so that Kate and Anthony would be able to attend without rearranging their travel plans again.

“That is excellent news,” Anthony’s voice called from the doorway.

He entered with a relaxed smile, greeting Mary and Edwina warmly before taking a seat beside Kate on the sofa. He smelled like tobacco and Kate felt herself flush when she remembered how she had gotten on her knees for him in the smoking room the day before.

She thought of the way he had reclined in his chair, his pipe in one hand and her hair tangled in his other. How he had moaned while she lazily traced her tongue up and down the length of his cock. How he had gazed at her, whispering “this is…divine,” before his head fell back against the chair.

“Kate?”

“Hm?” She shook her head as if to clear it of their last few days alone. Anthony smiled knowingly, as if sensing exactly where her thoughts had wandered.

“I asked if you would spend the night with me before the wedding,” Edwina repeated, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Oh! Of course, Bon. I’d love to.” Kate turned to Anthony. “Is that alright with you?”

“Of course,” he said with a casual shrug.

Edwina looked at her brother-in-law, her expression turning sincere. “Anthony, I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you.”

He turned to her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “What for?”

Edwina looked at the floor. “For providing my dowry. You didn’t have to, and I know it was quite generous. So, thank you.”

Anthony shook his head, dismissing the sentiment. “There’s no need to thank me. It was the least I could do.” After a brief pause, he added, “Friedrich asked for it to be put in trust for you and your future children.”

Kate couldn’t stop the soft “aw” that escaped her lips. Edwina smiled, and Mary discreetly dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Amma, what’s wrong?” Edwina asked, concerned.

Mary gave a watery smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s just…” She paused, her voice thick with emotion. “Both of my daughters have found kind, generous men who love them as much as I do. I couldn’t be happier.”

That night, Kate was the one waiting in the armchair for Anthony. He had gone back to his study after dinner while she had spent the evening catching up with her mother and sister. She turned to the bedroom door when she heard it open.

Anthony entered with a grin, crossing the room swiftly to her. He bent down, brushing a kiss against her lips before resting his head on her lap. “Are you ready for bed, my love?”

Kate stroked his hair, her fingers threading gently through the soft strands. “Not just yet,” she whispered.

Anthony’s fingers traced slow, deliberate circles on her thigh, his breath warm against her skin. He paused, meeting her gaze, as if asking for permission before letting his lips wander lower. He opened her robe slowly and began kissing the bare skin exposed at her thighs, his lips warm against her flesh. Kate shivered in anticipation and desire. When his mouth found her, she gasped, her head falling back against the chair.

She watched, her eyes half closed with desire, as his tongue moved with languid expertise, gently tasting her as if she were the finest delicacy.

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her close, pressing his face enthusiastically into her.

“Oh!” She moaned loudly at his change in pace. “Anthony…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

He paused, looking up at her. “What is it? Tell me,” he coaxed gently.

Kate’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she found the courage to meet his gaze. “I… I want you to put your hand on my mouth again.”

“Are you worried someone will hear? I was teasing you, Kate, I really don't think anyone can–”

“No,” she shook her head. “I just like how it felt to be…held down by you.” She blushed.

Anthony’s eyes darkened with understanding, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “You like to be…under my control?”

Kate groaned, pushing at his shoulder playfully. “Only sometimes. Don’t get used to it.”

Anthony chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Noted.”

Chapter Text

By Wednesday morning, the rest of their family had trickled back to the countryside. With each new arrival, Anthony’s impatience grew until it was nearly unbearable. He tugged Kate into his study, closing the door behind them, and pulled her into a kiss.

“Let’s leave now,” he whispered between kisses. “Paris. The Mediterranean. Somewhere warm and quiet. Somewhere without our mothers.”

She giggled. “I will not miss Edwina’s wedding and you know it.”

Anthony groaned dramatically, brushing his lips down her neck. “I knew you would say that,” he muttered against her skin. “It would have been easier if I had not gotten a taste of what having you to myself is like.”

His hands roamed to her hips, pushing her gently against the door as his lips trailed lower, kissing the dip between her breasts. “I’d like to taste you again,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

“Anthony,” she gasped. His hands found their way up her skirts. “We can’t.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“This door doesn’t lock,” she said, giggling.

He grinned wickedly, already kneeling before her. “That’s why I have you up against it.” He brushed her skirts up with deliberate slowness. “Don’t let anyone in.”

Before she could protest further, his lips found her. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a moan, her head falling back against the wood. As her knees began to tremble, Anthony’s hands steadied her, lifting her legs over his shoulders until she was perched against him.

She teetered on the edge of bliss when a knock sounded at the door.

Anthony jerked back, almost toppling her, but caught her just in time. His body braced hers against the door, holding it firmly shut. “What?” he barked, his voice hoarse with frustration.

Kate giggled at the huskiness of his voice and he pressed his hand against her mouth, shushing her.

“Prince Friedrich has arrived, my lord,” came the footman’s voice from the other side.

Anthony exhaled heavily. “Thank you. I’ll be down shortly.”

They waited, listening to the retreating footsteps, then dissolved into quiet laughter, sliding to the floor in a tangle of limbs and leaning into each other with each round of giggles.

“I told you,” Kate said breathlessly, her body still thrumming from their stolen moment.

Anthony shook his head with a grin. “The door didn’t lock, but it worked fine.”

Kate laughed, brushing a curl from his forehead. “You are insufferable.”

“And you,” Anthony said, a mischievous gleam in his eye, “are far too easy to make moan.”

Kate blushed as his hand brushed teasingly between her legs. “Anthony!”

He chuckled, pulling her to her feet. “Come on. We must greet your new brother-in-law.”

Kate shook her head, grinning. This man was going to drive her mad.

Anthony adjusted his cravat, his smirk still firmly in place. “You know,” he said, glancing at Kate as she smoothed her skirts, “if we leave for our honeymoon now, I might actually get to finish what I start.”

Kate raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a teasing smile. “That is very tempting. But I think perhaps you must learn some patience.”

“Patience,” he muttered, offering her his arm, “is vastly overrated.”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, leaning closer as they exited the study. “And yet, you’ll need it if you’re going to survive the rest of this houseful.”

Anthony sighed dramatically, his free hand brushing through his hair. “I suppose I’ll endure it. For you.”

Kate laughed, the sound light and full of affection. “How noble of you.”

As they reached the staircase, Anthony paused, looking down at her with a softer expression. “But you do owe me one.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh? And what exactly do I owe you?”

He leaned in, his voice low and warm. “An uninterrupted hour. Just the two of us.”

Kate’s cheeks flushed, her gaze darting to the bustling sounds coming from the entryway below. “You’ll have me all night,” she said with a grin, tugging him forward.

As they reached the foyer, the sight of Friedrich greeting Edwina with a broad smile broke the spell. Anthony leaned closer one last time, his breath warm against her ear. “Tonight then,” he promised.

Kate’s cheeks warmed as she shot him a sidelong glance, her smile lingering as they joined the bustling scene below.

The house had finally settled into stillness. The laughter and chatter from dinner had long since faded, leaving only the faint creak of the floorboards as servants moved quietly about their nightly duties. In their bedroom, Kate stood by the window, her fingers absently trailing along the delicate lace of the curtain. The night air was crisp, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the day. She felt Anthony’s presence before he touched her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

“The house is finally quiet again,” he murmured, his voice low and rich with relief.

Kate leaned back against him, smiling. “For now.”

Anthony turned her gently, his hands resting on her hips. “I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he said, his gaze dropping to her lips.

“For what?” she asked, teasing.

“For you,” he said simply, his voice carrying a quiet intensity that sent a thrill through her.

Kate’s laughter was soft as she slipped her arms around his neck. “You’ve had me all day.”

“Not like this,” he murmured, his lips finding hers. The kiss was slow at first, tender, but quickly deepened as Anthony’s hands traveled to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. His weight settled over her, grounding her, as his hand brushed a stray curl from her face. The look in his eyes made her breath catch—a mixture of love, desire, and something more profound, as though he was marveling at the fact that she was his.

Kate’s fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed her, slow and unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world. She felt his hand trail down her side, finding the edge of her nightgown and sliding beneath it, his touch warm against her skin. She gasped softly as his fingers skimmed her thigh, her body already arching toward him.

“Anthony,” she breathed, her voice a mix of need and affection. She let her head fall back against the pillows, watching with a dazed expression as he made himself comfortable between her legs again.

Chapter Text

The storm that had been gathering all week finally rolled in, heavy clouds casting a gray pall over the gardens of Aubrey Hall. Kate stood at the window, hugging herself as she watched the first fat drops of rain streak down the glass. Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and ominous.

Anthony was still in his study, finishing some last-minute correspondence. Kate had spent the morning sitting on the sofa across from him, pretending to read but mostly watching him work. Now, with the storm settling in, her plans to ride were spoiled. She sighed and wandered the halls aimlessly.

She had the idle thought that she would not feel like this was her home, really, until they had their children there. She smiled to herself as she imagined the rooms filled with laughter and children with dark curly hair.

Her daydream was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps.

“Kate!”

She turned to see Hyacinth and Gregory bounding toward her, faces flushed with excitement.

“You must come see what we taught Newton!” Gregory exclaimed.

“What I taught Newton,” Hyacinth corrected primly.

“Well, I helped,” Gregory grumbled.

Kate laughed and followed the two children as they bickered their way to the nursery.

Anthony began hurrying through his work at the first boom of thunder. He knew thunderstorms made Kate uneasy and guilt gnawed at him for leaving her alone too long. When he finally finished, he began searching for Kate. She was not in their bedroom, the library, or her study.
Had she gone out to ride, despite the weather?

He was about to send someone to search when he heard her laughter echo down the corridor—a sound that tugged at his heart like a siren’s call.

Anthony found her in the nursery, sitting on the floor.

“Anthony!” she smiled at him. “You’ll never believe it. Show him, Hyacinth.”

Anthony grinned as he watched Hyacinth guide Newton through an obstacle course she and Gregory had constructed out of toys and books. The dog was surprisingly nimble on his short little legs, and happily followed Hyacinth as she led him through it.

“I think he likes Hyacinth more than he likes me,” Kate said with a mock pout. Hyacinth giggled.

“He definitely likes her more than me,” Gregory grumbled, folding his arms. “He won’t even sit for me.”

Anthony crossed the room, kneeling beside Kate. “The dog’s always had a mind of his own,” he said, smirking. “Rather like his mistress.”

Kate stuck her tongue out at him, making Anthony chuckle. “Very mature,” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

Newton growled suddenly, charging at Anthony. He jumped back in mock alarm. “This damn dog of yours—”

“Ours,” Kate corrected, giggling as Newton barked triumphantly.

As they walked back to their room to dress for dinner, Anthony glanced sideways at Kate. “It looked like you were having fun with my siblings.”

“They’re delightful,” Kate said warmly. “Hyacinth is particularly impressive. She may have a talent for—”

“Taming beasts?” Anthony interrupted with a playful grin.

She laughed. “Surely she would have been able to curb your behavior by now if that were true.”

Anthony gave a low growl, pulling her close. “You think I’m beastly, do you?” His lips brushed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’ll show you how a beast behaves.”

Kate arched a brow, calling his bluff. “I wish you would.”

Anthony faltered, caught off guard by her boldness, and she laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “Come on—we’re already late.”

That night, the storm reached its peak. Lightning slashed across the sky, and thunder boomed so loudly the windows rattled in their frames.

Kate flinched at each flash, curling closer to Anthony beneath the covers.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, kissing her head tenderly.

She laughed wryly. “I know. I don’t know why it scares me so.”

“We all have our fears,” he said, relighting the candle beside the bed. “Would you like me to read to you?”

Kate’s smile was soft and sleepy. “Would you really?”

He nodded. “Anything but poetry.”

He read until her breath evened and the tension melted from her body, and she finally drifted off to the sound of his voice and the warmth of his skin.

Chapter Text

Two days before Kate’s birthday dinner, Simon, Daphne, and little Augie arrived at Aubrey Hall. As soon as Daphne stepped through the door, Anthony scooped Augie from her arms, holding the giggling boy high and pulling faces until he shrieked with laughter.

Kate hugged Daphne warmly. “I’m so glad you could come back so soon!”

Daphne smiled, nodding toward Anthony and Simon, who had joined his brother-in-law in making faces at the baby. “I hardly recognize the man you have turned my brother into.”

Kate grinned. “That’s a good thing, I hope?”

Daphne leaned closer, hugging Kate again. “It’s wonderful.”

Later that evening, the family gathered in the drawing room after dinner. One by one, people drifted off to bed, leaving only Simon, Daphne, Kate, Anthony, Edwina, and Friedrich. When Violet finally excused herself, Anthony asked the servants to bring whiskey for the men and Port for the ladies.

The conversation became light and teasing, the remaining pairs of siblings taking their turn poking fun at the others under their partners’ amused gazes. Eventually, Friedrich excused himself, kissing Edwina politely on the hand before he left the room. Her engagement ring sparkled brightly in the candlelight.

Edwina finished her glass of Port slowly, then excused herself for the evening as well.

Kate caught a smirk that passed between Simon and Anthony. “What?” she asked suspiciously.

Anthony gave an innocent shrug. “Nothing.”

Kate turned to Simon, who mirrored the innocence until Daphne glared at him.

“Fine. Just… you know they’re probably in bed together right now,” Simon said with a sly grin.

Kate choked on her drink, her eyes wide. Anthony shot Simon a scathing look. Daphne gasped, smacking her husband’s arm. “Simon!”

Simon winced, rubbing his arm. “What? It’s true!”

Kate burst out laughing, waving off Daphne’s attempts to apologize. “No, no—he’s probably right!”

Anthony looked at her in shock. “What? You think you’re the only one who can sneak into someone’s room at night?” she teased, a wicked gleam in her eye.

Anthony’s ears turned red, and Simon and Daphne both howled with laughter.

“Are you drunk?” Anthony asked Kate, eyeing her flushed cheeks and mischievous smile.

Kate tilted her head, considering. “No.” She paused, feeling the pleasant buzz in her head. “Maybe.”

Anthony chuckled. “That’s our cue to go to bed.”

“No!” Kate protested, leaning heavily into Anthony’s side. “Let us stay a little longer.”

Daphne nodded eagerly. “Just a little longer,” she echoed, holding out her glass for more Port.

Anthony sighed but couldn’t help smiling. “I can’t believe you’re not angry about Edwina and Friedrich,” he said to Kate.

Kate gave him a sly look. “That would make me quite the hypocrite, wouldn’t it? Besides, I trust my sister’s judgment.”

“Yes! Quite the hypocrite,” Daphne said, looking pointedly at Anthony. He shot her a look. He grumbled something unintelligible as he looked down at the ground.

“Are you not going to challenge him to a duel, Bridgerton?” Simon laughed, until he saw the looks on Daphne and Anthony’s faces. He looked at Kate, his face frozen.

Kate slowly turned to Anthony as her alcohol-drenched brain put together the nervous looks between the three of them. “Did you duel someone?”

Anthony shifted uncomfortably. “Not…technically.”

Daphne scoffed. “Guns were drawn!” She looked at Simon. “Idiots.”

Kate stared, stunned. “You two dueled each other?”

Simon stood abruptly. “Right! Well, time to head to bed—”

“Oh no, you don’t!” Daphne grabbed his hand and yanked him back into his seat. “She’ll find out sooner or later.” She turned to Kate, giving an exaggerated sigh. “Because Simon kissed me and Anthony handled it with his usual poise and rationality.”

Kate’s laugh exploded, ringing through the room. “Of course he did!” she gasped, wiping her eyes.

Anthony, blushing furiously, stared at the floor.

“Luckily,” Daphne added dryly, “they came to their senses before anyone was hurt.”

Kate saw the two men exchange a furtive look—one that told her there was more to the story than they were letting on. But tonight was not the night she’d get it out of them.

Half an hour later, with the bottle of Port finally drained, Simon and Anthony managed to haul their wives to bed.

When Kate and Anthony made it to the sanctuary of their room, she pulled him into a fierce kiss.

Anthony laughed as he gently pushed her back. “Kate, you are absolutely foxed right now.”

She pouted. “I am not.”

He arched a brow. “Kate. I have never seen you drink more than a single glass of champagne before, and tonight I watched you drink half a bottle of Port.” He guided her toward the bed and poured her a glass of water. “Drink this, or you’ll regret it tomorrow.”

She grumbled as she took a sip of water. “I can handle myself, thank you.”

Anthony smiled, carefully removing the jewels from her neck and hair. “I know, darling.” He helped her undress, then disappeared into her dressing room, returning with one of her soft cotton nightgowns.

She wrinkled her nose at it. “I don’t need that.”

He eyed her curiously. “No?”

“No,” she said confidently. “Because you’re going to make love to me.” She tugged him close and kissed him again.

He laughed, and shook his head as he pulled away from her gently. “No, I’m sorry, I’m afraid not.”

Kate frowned. “Why not?” Her voice was adorably petulant, and he tried very hard not to laugh.

“Kate. You are not yourself right now.” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “I only want to make love to you when you are.”

Kate blinked, her brow crumpling in confusion. “What?”

Anthony smiled, brushing her hair back. “Can I just hold you tonight, my love?”

She gave a sleepy nod. “Alright. But I’m not putting on that nightdress.”

He laughed, climbing into bed beside her and pulling her close. He brushed his fingers through her hair, and Kate sighed contentedly before easily slipping into sleep.

Chapter Text

When Kate woke up on her twenty-seventh birthday, the first thing she noticed was Anthony watching her with that soft, unguarded expression that always made her feel like the most precious thing in his world. She had grown accustomed to waking up under his gaze, but this morning, it was accompanied by the sight of a large bag resting beside him and the warm, intoxicating scent of star anise and cinnamon filling the room.

“Look what arrived just in time,” he said, grinning at her. He leaned down and kissed her still-sleepy face. “Claire is coming up with a breakfast tray for you and hot water for the chai.”

Kate smiled. “I’ve missed that smell,” she said. “Thank you, Anthony.”

Anthony sat next to Kate while she ate and prepared her tea. “How is your head today?”

Kate winced slightly at the memory of yesterday’s port-induced misery. “Better, thank you.”

“What would you like to do today?” he asked her.

Kate’s smile widened as she considered his question. “A ride through the fields, perhaps?”

He nodded. “Of course. Then what? Anything you want.”

She thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind. The last few weeks had been so idyllic, and tonight they would be having some of her favorite foods for dinner in the orangery with all their family. She sipped the chai in front of her. She truly could not think of a single thing she still wanted. “Honestly, Anthony, I don’t know.”

Anthony smiled smugly. “You mean to tell me I have managed to completely satisfy you?”

She laughed. “I would not phrase it that way…but yes, Anthony.” She gazed at him, a firecracker going off in her stomach at his suggestive look. “You have made me incredibly happy.”

Later that morning, they rode through the sun-drenched fields of Aubrey Hall, the air thick with the scent of wildflowers and lavender. As they reached the lavender fields, Anthony dismounted, tying his horse to a nearby tree before helping Kate from hers.

“I thought we’d walk for a bit,” he said, offering his hand.

They wandered side by side through the purple sea, the scent surrounding them like a fragrant embrace. At one point, Anthony stopped and gathered a small bouquet of lavender, holding it out to Kate with a sheepish smile. “Happy birthday, Kate. I don’t know that I’ve actually wished you a happy birthday yet.”

She took the flowers, touched by the simplicity of the gesture. “You don’t need to wish me happiness, Anthony. You’ve already given me that.”

As they strolled through the fields, Anthony’s hand warm in hers, he asked softly, “What were your birthdays like when you were little?”

Kate smiled. “Appa used to love our birthdays. I think he liked my and Edwina’s birthdays more than any other holiday.” She frowned for a moment. “The year he passed…we almost forgot to do something for Edwina’s. I still feel guilty about that.”

Anthony squeezed her hand gently. “I’m sure you did your best.” They were quiet for a moment. “What did your father do for your birthdays?”

Kate smiled again, remembering her father’s joyful grin. “He would make us cake for breakfast,” she laughed. “I remember waking up and running to the kitchen every year. And then he would just spend the day with us, doing whatever we wanted.” She smiled at Anthony. “Just like you are doing for me today.”

Anthony chuckled. “Cake for breakfast? Now that’s something I can get behind.” He gave her hand a quick kiss. “We’ll do that next year. I promise.”

The conversation drifted to memories of her father, moments of joy now tinged with sadness. But Anthony never rushed her through the heavier emotions—he simply held her hand tighter, letting her know she didn’t have to carry it alone anymore.

They made their way back to their horses, and Kate watched curiously as Anthony cut a large bundle of lavender and laid it across his lap after mounting his horse. “For Francesca and Hyacinth,” he said to her questioning look. “It’s their favorite.” He grinned. “Eloise’s too, but she will never admit it.”

When they returned to the house, Kate saw Edwina and Eloise outside, engrossed in conversation. As she got closer, she noticed that Eloise seemed quite upset, and Edwina’s eyes were wide in surprise.

“Hello, Edwina, Eloise,” she said, sitting near them.

Eloise gave a tight smile. “I was just on my way to help Mama with dinner.” With that, she hurried off, leaving Kate alone with her sister.

“What is troubling her?”

Edwina shook her head. “I’m sorry, it is not my place to tell.” She looked as if she was going to burst with whatever she was holding in, but Kate knew better. Edwina was not a gossip.

“Can you at least tell me if she is alright?”

“She and Penelope had a falling out,” Edwina confided softly. “She’ll be alright, but it’s been hard for her.”

“Ah,” Kate said. She hadn’t seen Eloise and Penelope together for a few weeks now, but she had assumed it was more due to their being in the countryside. She wasn’t sure where the Featherington’s country estate was. “I’m glad she has you to talk to.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching as the wind bent the blooms in the gardens back and forth. “Edwina,” Kate said. “You and Friedrich… You’re being responsible, I hope?”

Edwina blushed but didn’t back down. “We’ve only kissed. And if you’re about to scold me, I’ll remind you that I’m not doing anything you haven’t done yourself.”

Kate laughed, squeezing her sister’s hand. “I just want to make sure he’s treating you well.”

Edwina smiled, her gaze softening. “He is. He’s very kind to me.” She looked at Kate. “We have only kissed, truly. We just like talking to each other without a chaperone over our shoulder.” She rolled her eyes. “Now that you are married, Amma’s attention is focused entirely on me, and by extension, Friedrich.”

Kate laughed. Edwina stared at her sister, realizing for the first time how different Kate looked. Her face was relaxed and her eyes seemed to finally match her smile. “You know,” Edwina said, “I do not think I have ever seen you so happy.”

Kate took hold of her little sister’s hand. “I am. Happy.” She was quiet for a moment. “I was telling Anthony about how Appa celebrated our birthdays with us. It made me realize…”

“What?”

Kate frowned. “I have not felt so…light since before he died.” She swallowed, trying not to cry. “I have not felt so loved since he died.”

“Oh, Didi,” Edwina frowned and wrapped her arms around her sister.

“No,” Kate shook her head. “Please, forget I said that. I know you and Amma love me, it is just–”

Edwina shook her head. “No,” she said, cutting Kate off. “I think I understand. You have carried so much burden for us.” She wrapped her arms around Kate in a fierce hug. “I’m glad you finally feel cared for again, Didi. You deserve this.”

Later, Kate was in her dressing room getting ready for her dinner party. Anthony had bought another new dress for her, this one a deep emerald green with delicate beading at the bodice. Kate smiled at herself in the mirror while Claire twisted her hair up into an elegant updo. She reached into a drawer of her vanity, searching for a small box that contained her favorite earrings.

“I’ve already set them out,” Claire said, smiling. Kate looked, and sure enough the dangling gold earrings were already on the other side of her.

“You are getting quite good at this,” Kate laughed. She gasped when she noticed the gold cuff bracelets next to the earrings. “Are these from Anthony as well?”

Claire smiled, nodding

“Anthony!” Kate called.

He appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of amusement and affection.

“I told you no gifts,” she scolded lightly. “The dinner party, the chai, the dress, now these?” She held up the bracelets.

Anthony nodded his head at Claire. “Are you nearly finished with her?”

She nodded, pinning Kate’s last curls in place. “I will take my leave,” she said.

Anthony walked to Kate and bent down to look her in the eyes. “Do you not like them? Your bracelets?”

“Of course I like them, Anthony, they are beautiful.” She shook her head. “But–”

“No buts,” he said, kissing her. “Will you please just allow me to give you things I think you’ll look beautiful in?” He stood, pulling her to her feet and sliding the cuffs on her arms. “And the chai is not a gift. It is the tea you like, we will always have it from now on. Now. Are you ready for your party?”

She nodded and kissed him before allowing him to escort her outside. It was a perfect night. The heat of the day had retreated with the sun, which glowed at the horizon, leaving behind a warm evening with a cool, gentle breeze. The sky was a mix of pinks and purples and the stars were just visible.

When they reached the orangery, Kate gasped. Dozens of candles twinkled against the glass walls, casting a warm glow over the long table draped in jasmine flowers and greenery.

Anthony leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. “Do you like it?”

Kate turned to him, her heart full to bursting. “It’s perfect.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” a voice called out. Kate turned to see Lady Danbury making her way towards them. She hugged Kate.

“Lady Danbury,” Kate said, hugging her back. “Thank you so much for coming back for my birthday.”

Lady Danbury smiled. “My dear, I never miss a good party.”

And a good party it was. As the sun set lower, the greenhouse seemed to glitter with the candle flames, giving the entire orangery a mystical, magical feeling. They served Kate’s favorite foods (well, her favorite English foods) and there was plenty of champagne.

Kate stared down the long table at Anthony’s face, and the faces of her mother and sister and her new family as they smiled and laughed. In the haze of the evening light, with the candles flickering in the reflection of the orangery glass and the fruity floral aroma filling her lungs with every inhale, and Anthony’s handsome face smiling at her, Kate thought maybe she actually had died when she fell from her horse weeks ago. Surely this must be heaven.

That night, Kate and Anthony retreated to their bedroom alone, helping each other undress while they grabbed at each other needily. When Anthony finally pulled off the last piece of fabric between him and Kate’s naked body, he picked her up and carried her to their bed. He kissed her, sweetly, before he pulled back and looked in her face.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice low and full of promise. “Anything, Kate. I’ll do anything for you.”

Her heart swelled at the sincerity of his words, and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “You know I want, Anthony,” she whispered. “Hold me down. Take me. Use me.”

Anthony looked like he was choking. “Kathani.”

Kate blushed. “You said whatever I want.”

He groaned, and pinned her arms above her head with one hand as he kissed her. Kate felt her body relax under the intensity of his touch. It was strange, the way she felt freer the tighter he held her down.

His other hand made its way down between her legs. He moaned into her mouth when he felt how wet she was for him already. He pushed himself inside her, thrusting in and out slowly as he kept her pinned in place.

He watched her face as he began to push harder and faster. He released her arms so he could readjust himself and push himself deeper inside her, pulling her hips to him forcefully. She opened her eyes and stared at him as she cried out his name, and it didn’t take long for him to lose himself under the intensity of her gaze.

He closed his eyes and let himself take his pleasure from her, pulling her hard against him as he pushed into her until he saw stars. When he opened his eyes again, Kate was staring at him. She reached up and pulled his face towards hers, kissing him deeply.

In the quiet moments that followed, their breathing evened out as they lay tangled in each other’s arms. Kate felt his hand slowly stroke down her arm, fingers tracing delicate patterns on her skin. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against her ear.

“Kate,” Anthony whispered, his lips brushing her hair. She hummed in response, her eyes fluttering shut, already drifting toward sleep.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he murmured.

Chapter Text

The morning sun spilled golden light across the gardens of Aubrey Hall, painting the dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers in radiant hues. Kate stood on the terrace, gazing out at the endless greenery, while Newton lay sprawled lazily at her feet. She closed her eyes and let the warm breeze caress her face, breathing in the mingling scents of lavender and roses.

The previous day’s departure of Mary, Edwina, and Friedrich for the queen’s country estate lingered heavily in her thoughts. As much as she delighted in Edwina’s happiness, the reality of her sister soon living so far away tugged at her heart, leaving a quiet melancholy.

Anthony’s arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her against his chest. “Hello, my love,” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

Kate leaned back into him, smiling faintly. “Good morning. What brings you out of your study so early? Have you taken ill?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “A wise man knows when to listen to his wife. I thought I’d shirk my duties for a bit.” He glanced at Newton, who perked up at the attention. “How about a walk? That beast of yours looks ready to wreak havoc.”

Kate tilted her head, her smile widening. “Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?”

Anthony smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go.”

The gardens buzzed with life, bees flitting lazily between blooms as the late summer flowers basked in the golden light. Newton trotted ahead, darting between bushes and patches of wildflowers. Kate and Anthony strolled hand in hand, their steps unhurried as they followed the winding paths.

When they reached the edge of the fields, the view opened to rolling meadows dotted with bursts of wild color. Anthony guided Kate toward the shade of a large oak tree, where a basket and folded blanket waited.

Kate arched a brow. “What’s this?”

“A surprise,” he said, grinning as he spread out the blanket. “I thought we’d have lunch out here. You know, since I’ve decided to play truant for the day.”

Kate’s lips twitched. “You’re full of surprises lately.”

“You bring it out in me,” he replied, his tone warm.

Anthony spread out the blanket while Kate called Newton back, the dog happily plopping down beside her. The basket revealed an array of delights: fresh bread, cheese, fruits, and a bottle of wine. Kate’s smile widened as she began unpacking the contents.

“This is so sweet of you, Anthony,” she said, gently feeding a grape to him and then to herself.

He grinned, opening the wine. He paused. “I forgot to pack glasses.”

“That’s alright,” she said, grabbing the bottle from his hand. She tipped it back delicately to her lips. “We can share the bottle.”

He laughed, smiling at her. “You’re a wonder of a woman, Kate.”

She laughed loudly, and her joy made his chest swell. He leaned over and kissed her deeply, the taste of wine lingering on her lips.

When the food was gone, Kate lay back on the blanket, gazing up at the sky. The clouds drifted lazily, and the gentle hum of insects filled the air. Newton dozed beside them, his belly full from the small scraps Kate had slipped him.

Anthony stretched out beside her, propping himself on one elbow so he could watch her. “You look beautiful like this,” he said softly.

Kate turned her head, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “Lying in a field?”

“No,” he said, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Happy. Relaxed. Carefree.”

Her smile softened as she reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “You make me feel that way.”

Anthony leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “Good. That’s exactly how I want you to feel.”

They talked of everything and nothing—of their plans for Aubrey Hall, the laughter they hoped to fill its halls with, and the family they dreamed of building together. As the sun dipped lower, Anthony helped Kate to her feet, gathering the blanket and basket as Newton barked at a passing butterfly.

The house came into view, bathed in the golden light of late afternoon, and Kate paused to take it in. Beside her, Anthony carried the basket in one hand, her fingers laced through his other.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Anthony glanced at her, his brow lifting. “For what?”

“For today,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “For knowing what I needed without me having to say it.”

His hand tightened around hers. “That’s my job, isn’t it? To make sure you’re happy.”

Kate stopped, pulling him to face her. “You do it so well,” she said, her eyes shining.

Setting the basket down, Anthony cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed her cheeks as his eyes searched hers, and then he kissed her, slow and tender, as if to press his love into her very soul.

Newton’s sudden bark broke the moment, and they both laughed. “I suppose we should get him inside before he starts plotting against the squirrels again,” Kate said, her smile wide and bright. Anthony groaned theatrically but slipped his arm around her waist as they walked into the house.

Chapter Text

The last Friday in August, the countryside buzzed with excitement over Edwina and Friedrich’s wedding. Lady Mary, Edwina, and the prince had left for the queen’s country estate earlier in the week to prepare for the ceremony.

Anthony and Kate followed on Friday afternoon, riding together in a private carriage. Kate would spend the night with her sister and mother, supporting Edwina in the hours before she became a princess.

Anthony had tried to make peace with the idea of sleeping without Kate, but the thought gnawed at him. Every minute spent apart from her was torture. And tonight, knowing she would be mere rooms away but untouchable—he clenched his jaw just thinking about it.

As they pulled away from Aubrey Hall, Kate stared out the window, worry etched into her face.

“Are you alright?” Anthony asked.

She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m excited... and a little nervous.” She sighed. “I just want Edwina to be happy.”

“She will be,” Anthony said, squeezing her hand and brushing his lips over her knuckles. “Friedrich’s a good man.”

Kate lay her head on Anthony’s shoulder with a contented sigh, and Anthony savored the weight of her against him. The heat of the afternoon pressed in through the open carriage windows, but the breeze stirred her hair, carrying her scent—lilies, always lilies. It made his chest ache with want.

“It would have been the perfect day for a ride,” Kate mused.

Anthony chuckled. “I am telling you, the queen would not look kindly on us if we arrived on horseback.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Surely the queen could not like me any less.”

Anthony frowned. “Surely the queen has forgiven everything, since she is hosting Edwina’s nuptials.”

“Again,” Kate said, smirking at Anthony.

Anthony blushed, and Kate laughed at him. “I kept picturing you there that day,” he admitted softly.

She nodded. “Me too.”

For a moment, the past loomed between them—a reminder of how close he had come to making the worst mistake of his life. Then Anthony turned to her and smiled. “You were even more beautiful as my bride than I ever imagined.”

He kissed her then, slow and tender, as if to dissolve the last remnants of those uneasy memories.

“Never again,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ll never make a foolish mistake like that again.”

Kate laughed, her fingers trailing lightly over his jaw. “Don’t make promises we both know you can’t keep.”

Later that evening, after a formal dinner with Edwina, Friedrich, Mary, and the queen, Anthony and Kate retreated to their rooms. Kate changed into her nightdress and robe, tying the sash loosely at her waist as she prepared to leave for Edwina’s room.

Anthony watched her from the bed, propped on one elbow. “Do you have to leave right away?” he asked, catching her wrist and pulling her gently toward him.

Kate gave him a soft smile. “Amma and Edwina are expecting me.”

“I can be quick,” he whispered, kissing the inside of her wrist.

She laughed, brushing her lips across his cheek. “I prefer when you take your time,” she teased, tapping the tip of his nose.

He groaned as she slipped from his grasp, watching helplessly as she left the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and Anthony let out a frustrated sigh.

Sleep eluded him as thoughts of Kate consumed him. He lay awake, his body restless and his mind fixated on her—on the scent of lilies that clung to her skin, on the way her lips parted when he kissed her just right, and the soft, needy sounds she made when she gave herself to him completely.

The longer he lay there, the worse it became. He ran a hand through his hair, then began pacing the room. Every fiber of his being screamed for her, demanded that she be with him now.

I’ll drag her back here, he thought wildly. I’ll burst into Edwina’s room, grab her, and carry her back to bed. I’ll rip that damned nightdress off her. And then I will bend her over this bed and I will...

Good god. He clenched his fists, trying to shake off the images that flooded his mind. He used to think himself a gentleman. But Kate had awoken a beast in him that he could not satiate. As the last few weeks had gone on, he thought his desire for her would wane with each passing day that he had her under him moaning. But if anything it had the opposite effect. The more he had of her, the more he wanted. Needed.

His gaze drifted to the vanity where Kate had left her things. He ran his fingers over the little trinkets she’d placed there—hairpins, a brush, and a tiny glass vial.

“I knew it,” he murmured, laughing softly. Kate had insisted that the floral scent clinging to her skin was just her soap, but Anthony had suspected otherwise. He opened the vial and dabbed a tiny drop of the lily perfume onto his finger.

The scent enveloped him immediately, and a wave of longing crashed over him. His hands ached to touch her, to pull her close and bury his face in the curve of her neck. He stared at the closed door, as if willing her to appear through it.

With a frustrated groan, he fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes as he inhaled the perfume again. His body reacted instinctively, hardening as he imagined Kate beside him—the softness of her skin, the heat of her breath on his neck, the way her body arched under his touch.

Without meaning to, he began touching himself, every thought centered on her. He pictured her gasping his name, her eyebrows lifting in surprise before melting into bliss. He imagined the way her breath hitched when his thumb pressed between her legs, the way she writhed beneath him as she found her release.

His release came fast and hard, shuddering through him before he even realized it was happening. He groaned in frustration, glaring down at the mess on his shirt. What was he—an eager green boy again, driven to ruin by the mere thought of a woman?

But then, Kate wasn’t just any woman. No, she was something else entirely. She was…everything.

Meanwhile, in Edwina’s room, Mary bid the girls goodnight, leaving them alone to share one last evening together. Edwina, buzzing with excitement, could barely sit still.

“You must calm yourself,” Kate teased, laughing at her sister’s jittery energy. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

Edwina smiled. “Oh, surely it will fly by.” She paused, then looked at Kate. “I am…a little nervous for tomorrow night.”

“Oh?” Kate asked. “Did Amma talk to you?”

Edwina grimaced. “Yes. It was awful.”

Kate burst into laughter. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure what she was even trying to say!” Edwina exclaimed. “We started talking about love, and then out of nowhere, she asked if I remembered the animals on the farm.”

Kate laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks, imagining their mother’s awkward attempt at explaining the facts of marriage.

When her laughter subsided, she took Edwina’s hands in her own. “You don’t need to be nervous,” Kate said gently. “Friedrich is a kind man. He will take care of you.”

Edwina nodded, but Kate’s gaze turned serious. “And if he ever doesn’t—if he hurts you or makes you do anything you don’t want—you will leave him. You will come back to me. Always.”

Edwina blinked in surprise. “Leave him?”

Kate nodded firmly. “Yes. You always have a place with me.”

Edwina nodded, holding Kate’s hands tightly. “Thank you, Kate. But I really do not think I will need to take you up on your...generous offer.” She hesitated. “Now, please tell me—what on earth did Amma mean about the farm animals?”

Chapter Text

Anthony woke to an empty bed, and for a disorienting moment, he wondered if Kate had been a dream—an exquisite figment that slipped through his grasp. The scent of lilies clung to him, and he ached to smell it mixed with her skin and musk.

He exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. One night without her was unbearable. The room felt colder without her warmth beside him, as if she had stolen the sun when she left.

Anthony met his family outside the room where the wedding was to be held. Violet greeted him with a warm hug.

“Where’s Kate?” she asked.

Anthony shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “I haven’t seen her yet this morning.”

“Ah,” Eloise said, arching a knowing brow. “And thus, the brooding begins.”

Gregory and Francesca exchanged looks, smirking until Anthony shot them a warning glance. They wisely stifled their laughter.

The family settled into their seats as the ceremony began. Anthony shifted restlessly, but the moment Kate appeared, all discomfort melted away. She floated down the aisle, radiant in her bridesmaid’s gown. His heart stuttered at the sight of her, a grin breaking across his face without permission.

Kate caught him staring and smiled—a soft, secret smile meant only for him. Anthony felt the air leave his lungs. Even when Edwina glided past, in all her bridal splendor, Anthony’s eyes never left Kate. She stood behind her sister at the altar, beaming with pride. The ceremony dragged on, but the second it ended, he was up and moving through the crowd.

Kate barely had time to turn before Anthony reached her, capturing her lips in a breathless kiss.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her mouth.

Kate giggled, breath warm on his lips. “Anthony, it’s been less than twelve hours.”

“Eleven hours too many,” he grumbled, pressing another kiss to her neck.

Kate gently pulled away, glancing around. “We are still in public.”

He frowned, then held out his hand to her and smirked. “Would you like to go somewhere private?”

Kate looked around the crowded room. Surely no one would notice if she slipped off for a little bit. She nodded and let him lead her to their guest chambers.

The moment the door closed behind them, Anthony was on her. He kissed her fiercely, hands fumbling with the layers of her dress. Kate laughed, pulling up her skirts to help him, and Anthony dropped to his knees before her, burying his face between her thighs hungrily.

“Anthony!” she gasped, fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue traced over her folds. The sharp, desperate sounds she made only drove him wilder. He gripped her hips, dragging her closer, lost in the taste of her.

Kate’s breath hitched as his fingers found the spot she craved, working in tandem with his mouth until she unraveled, moaning his name like a prayer. The sound of it—her voice, shattered and yearning—was almost enough to undo him.

He stood abruptly, fumbling with his trousers as Kate whimpered at the loss of him. Her glazed eyes flew open.

“Wh–”

Before she could finish, he plunged into her, both of them crying out at the overwhelming sensation. His hips slammed against hers, urgency and hunger colliding as he claimed her with every thrust. Kate arched beneath him, nails raking down his back, pulling him deeper, harder, closer.

When she moaned his name again—louder this time, raw with pleasure—Anthony’s world tilted. He thrust once more, shuddering as he spilled into her, her name tumbling from his lips like a benediction.

For a moment, they lay together, tangled in the sheets and each other’s breathless laughter.

“Anthony,” Kate whispered, brushing her lips over his jaw.

“Hm?” he murmured, half-asleep already, utterly content.

“We have to go back to the party.”

He groaned, eyes still closed. “One more minute.” He laced his fingers through hers, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Just one.”

The day passed in a blur of dancing, laughter, and stolen glances. By the time the celebrations ended, Kate’s muscles ached from dancing, but her mind buzzed with anticipation. As she slipped into the bath that evening, memories of Anthony’s hands—his mouth—made her shiver despite the warmth of the water.

When she finally entered their chambers, Anthony was already lounging in bed, the dim light casting shadows over the sharp lines of his face. His gaze darkened as Kate stepped into view, wearing a lilac nightgown so sheer it left little to the imagination.

Anthony made a noise between a laugh and a groan when he saw her. “I thought you were joking when you said you had a whole trunk full of these,” he said. His eyes were hungry as she walked towards him in the dark of the room.

“Come here,” he said. Anthony reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. The heat between them ignited instantly as she straddled him, their mouths meeting in a slow, lingering kiss. His hand slipped between her legs, groaning at how slick she was for him.

He shifted beneath her, guiding her over him, but when she hesitated, he paused.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, tilting her chin so their eyes met.

“I... I’m not sure what to do,” she admitted, cheeks flushing.

Anthony’s grin was sinful. “Pretend I’m a horse,” he whispered. “Ride me.”

“Anthony!” she gasped, laughter bubbling from her, but she relaxed, slowly lowering herself onto him.

The new angle made them both moan in unison. Kate braced herself against his chest, experimenting with the rhythm until she found what made her tremble with pleasure.

Anthony clenched his jaw, watching through hooded eyes as she moved over him, her head tilting back in ecstasy. He fought to hold himself together, determined to wait until she tumbled over the edge.

When she cried out his name, body shuddering in release, Anthony lost control. He thrust up into her, chasing his own release, and together they unraveled, clutching each other in the quiet aftermath.

Kate collapsed beside him with a satisfied sigh, her body limp and glowing. Anthony chuckled, brushing her damp hair from her face. “You’re a natural.”

Kate swatted at him, but her laugh was warm, and she curled into his side as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

Chapter Text

The morning was crisp and clear, the air carrying the faint, earthy scent of dew as the carriage bound for Prussia waited in the drive. Its polished surface gleamed in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the somber mood hanging in the air. Kate stood near the door, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, watching as Mary and Edwina prepared to depart.

Friedrich lingered a few paces away, his usual warm smile subdued as he glanced at Edwina with quiet reassurance. Mary, her expression tender but resolute, stepped forward and pulled Kate into a fierce embrace.

Mary smiled softly, brushing a tear from Kate’s cheek. “It’s not goodbye forever, my love. Just for now.”

Kate swallowed hard, fighting to keep her composure, but when Edwina stepped forward, the floodgates opened. Her sister’s bright eyes shimmered with unshed tears as they embraced fiercely, holding on as though sheer will could delay the inevitable.

“I’ll visit,” Kate promised, her voice trembling. “As soon as I can.”

Edwina nodded, her own voice breaking. “You’d better. And write. Promise me you’ll write.”

“I will,” Kate said, her tears spilling over as her words muffled against Edwina’s shoulder. “I love you, Bon.”

“I love you too, Didi.”

Friedrich approached, his expression tender as he placed a gentle hand on Edwina’s back. “I promise to take good care of her,” he said softly.

Kate managed a small, wobbly smile. “I know you will.”

With one final embrace, Edwina climbed into the carriage, followed by Mary. Kate stepped back, her hands trembling as the footman shut the door. The horses stirred, the sound of their hooves a hollow echo in the quiet drive, and the carriage began to roll away.

Kate stood frozen, her tears streaming silently as she raised a hand in farewell. She watched until the carriage disappeared from view, the lump in her throat making it impossible to speak.

Anthony, who had been waiting by the steps to give her space, stepped forward the moment the carriage was out of sight. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to their own waiting carriage without a word.

The moment the door shut behind them, Kate crumbled. She pressed her hands to her face, her sobs breaking free. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice shaking. “I don’t know why I’m so upset. This is a good thing. A happy ending.”

Anthony slid closer, pulling her into his arms as his heart ached for her. “Kate,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It’s alright.”

Kate shook her head against his chest, her words muffled. “Edwina is happy. I shouldn’t be falling apart like this.”

Anthony tilted her chin up gently, his dark eyes locking onto hers with unwavering sincerity. “You're allowed to be upset. I know you'll miss them.” He paused, tracing her fingers with his. "When Daphne left for Simon’s estate, the house felt emptier. I understand how their happiness can still feel like a loss.”

Kate sighed, sinking into his embrace as the carriage began its journey back to Aubrey Hall. The steady rhythm of the wheels against the road, combined with Anthony’s warmth, began to soothe her frayed nerves.

As the carriage rumbled along, Kate sighed deeply, her gaze drifting to the passing fields. The ache of parting still lingered, but Anthony’s steady presence beside her was a balm she hadn’t realized she needed. His arm remained around her shoulders, his thumb brushing soothing circles against her arm.

Anthony glanced down at her, studying her face. “Do you know what I think?” he asked gently.

Kate tilted her head toward him, her brows lifting in curiosity. “What?”

“I think,” he began, his voice light but warm, “that in a few days’ time, you and I will be on the road to Paris, and I am going to dedicate every waking moment to making sure you’re too distracted to feel this ache.”

Kate let out a soft laugh, the sound a bit shaky but genuine. “You make it sound like a challenge.”

“Oh, it is,” Anthony teased, his lips curling into a playful smirk. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to having you all to myself for six whole months,” he said, his voice dipping into something more earnest. “No interruptions, no responsibilities. Just us.”

Kate’s heart swelled at his words, the ache of farewell fading slightly in the glow of his sincerity. “That does sound wonderful,” she said softly, her hand moving to rest over his. “But you’ll have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” Anthony said immediately, his gaze locked on hers.

“Don’t let me spend too much time missing them,” she murmured, her voice quiet but steady. “Remind me to enjoy what’s right in front of me.”

Anthony smiled, leaning closer to press a kiss to her forehead. “That, my love, is a promise I will happily keep.”

The carriage hit a gentle bump, jolting Kate closer to him. She nestled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder as the landscape blurred past the window.

“We’ll start with Paris,” Anthony said, his voice a low rumble against her ear. “And the French countryside. I think you’ll love it, Kate. Then we'll spend a whole month traveling Italy…”

The carriage rolled on toward Aubrey Hall, the heaviness in Kate’s heart lifting little by little. With Anthony by her side, the future stretched out before her, bright and full of promise. And for the first time all morning, she allowed herself to feel the excitement of what lay ahead.

Chapter Text

Anthony and Kate departed on the first leg of their six-month honeymoon shortly after that. As their carriage rattled along toward the port, Kate rested her head on Anthony’s shoulder, releasing a deep, weary sigh.

Anthony gently twined his fingers through hers, bringing her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. His brow furrowed as he studied her. The past week had been hard on her. She’d never lived without her sister or mother before, and since their departure, she’d become quieter, more withdrawn.

Just as he opened his mouth to reassure her for the umpteenth time, Kate spoke first.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Who?” Anthony blinked, then chuckled as realization dawned. “Newton? Of course.”

Kate gave a small, wistful smile. “I’m going to miss him terribly.”

Anthony bit back a grin. He’d grown somewhat fond of the little beast—though "fond" might be a stretch. “He’ll be well looked after. My siblings are already spoiling him rotten.” His lips quirked. “Hyacinth has promised to write you weekly updates.”

Kate’s eyes lit up. “She has? Oh, that’s so sweet. I’ll look forward to her letters.”

“I hope,” Anthony murmured, leaning closer, “you’re also looking forward to our honeymoon.”

Kate giggled, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, I am.” She kissed him softly, her lips grazing the corner of his mouth, her hand tracing a light path down his neck. “In fact, I’ve been looking forward to it…” She kissed him again, lingering this time. “Very…” Her lips wandered to his jaw. “Much.”

Anthony groaned at the tantalizing touch, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shifted in his seat and, with a flick of his wrist, pulled the curtains shut.

Kate laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “Anthony, surely you’re not serious.”

“Why not?” His grin was pure sin.

“For one, there’s no room,” she pointed out, trying to suppress a laugh. “And second—” she lowered her voice, “if you make me moan, someone might hear.”

He smirked, raising his hand as if to place it over her mouth. “Then I’ll just have to keep you quiet.”

Kate burst into laughter, her joy bubbling over, and Anthony’s heart swelled at the sight of her—radiant and carefree. He tilted her chin up and kissed her deeply, savoring the sweetness of her laughter still on her lips.

“I love you,” he murmured against her mouth, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “I love you so much, Kathani Bridgerton.”

Once aboard the first ship of their journey, Kate marveled at the size of their cabin. It was easily as spacious as her room at Aubrey Hall—far more luxurious than she’d expected.

During her long voyage from India, she and Edwina had shared a tiny bunk that was no bigger than a closet. Mary had her own small cabin, and the sisters had taken turns staying with her whenever they needed a bit of privacy. Kate recalled spending an entire month in her mother’s cabin when Edwina had been miserably seasick.

But this—this was something else entirely.

She turned to Anthony, who was idly exploring the room, opening cabinets and peeking into closets. “Anthony.”

“Hm?” He glanced over his shoulder, and the smile that spread across his face at her wide-eyed expression was boyish and pleased.

“Anthony…” Kate shook her head in disbelief. “This must have cost a fortune.”

Anthony’s smile softened. He crossed the room and gathered her into his arms. “Don’t worry about the cost,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to her temple.

“Your family will hate me if you spend their entire fortune on this trip.”

“Our entire fortune,” he corrected playfully. “And besides, I’ve financed most of this from my personal savings.”

Her brows lifted. “You did?”

“Yes.” He shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “What better way to spend it than on a romantic adventure with my beautiful wife?”

Before Kate could respond, Anthony swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

“You don’t need to worry about… anything, anymore,” he whispered, settling beside her and gently brushing a stray curl from her face.

Kate barked out a laugh, her head tipping back. “Anthony, that’s utterly ridiculous.”

His cheeks reddened, but he smiled through it. “I mean it. I will take care of you.”

“I don’t—”

“Need to be taken care of, yes, I know,” he finished for her, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I know, Kate. But let me. Let me take care of you. Let me spoil you. Please.”

She rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “all you do is spoil me.”

“Good,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her throat.

Kate laughed, the sound light and carefree, as Anthony began to push her skirts higher, his hands warm against her thighs.

With a wicked glint in his eye, he kissed a slow, deliberate path down her body, savoring the way she shivered beneath his touch. When his mouth finally found her, Kate let her head fall back against the mattress, a breathless moan slipping from her lips.

Chapter Text

The late summer sun shone brightly as the carriage trundled along the winding country road, the fields on either side glowing in hues of green and gold. Kate leaned slightly out the window, her cheeks kissed by the breeze of the French countryside, her eyes alight with curiosity at the passing scenery.

The carriage slowed, and Anthony leaned out to speak to the driver. Turning back to her, he smiled. “I hope you don’t mind if we stop at this village. The horses could use a rest.”

Kate smiled, brushing a stray curl from her face. “Not at all. A stretch would be lovely.”

The carriage rolled into the heart of the quaint village. Cobbled streets lined with charming cottages and bustling shops greeted them, the air alive with the chatter of merchants and the clatter of market stalls.

As Anthony helped Kate down from the carriage, a booming voice rang out.

“Bridgerton!”

Anthony turned, his eyes widening with surprise. “Sinclair?”

The two men met with wide smiles and a hearty handshake. Anthony’s usual composure softened into something more boyish, and Kate’s curiosity piqued.

“Arnold Sinclair,” Anthony said, motioning toward his companion as he slipped an arm around Kate’s waist. “We were at Oxford together.”

“And who is this vision?” Arnold asked, his gaze flicking between them with playful interest.

“This,” Anthony said with pride, “is my wife, Lady Kathani Bridgerton.”

Kate inclined her head graciously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Arnold laughed warmly. “Ah, the rumors were true. Bridgerton, married! I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Kate smirked at Anthony, whose faint blush made her laugh. “You may call me Kate,” she offered. “And what brings you to France, Mr. Sinclair?”

“Please, call me Arnold,” he said with a grin. “I’ve been here for years—married a Frenchwoman and started a vineyard just outside of town.”

Anthony clapped him on the shoulder. “We always said you’d end up with a glass of wine in hand no matter where life took you.”

Arnold’s grin widened. “You must do us the honor of joining us for supper at the vineyard this evening. My wife will be delighted, and we can raise a glass to your most surprising matrimony.”

Kate’s laughter rang out as Anthony sighed heavily. “It would be our pleasure,” she replied, her eyes dancing as she turned to her husband.

After their stroll through the cobbled streets and a hearty lunch at the inn, Kate and Anthony explored the village’s shops. In a small boutique filled with trinkets and curiosities, the air was filled with the faint scent of lavender and beeswax. Kate browsed the shelves, her fingers trailing over delicate porcelain figurines and embroidered handkerchiefs.

Anthony wandered over to a glass case, his expression shifting to one of thoughtfulness. He motioned for the shopkeeper, pointing to something within. Kate, preoccupied with admiring a delicate painted box, didn’t notice until Anthony returned to her side.

“What’s this?” she asked as he handed her a small velvet box.

Anthony’s eyes twinkled. “A surprise.”

Kate opened the box to find a delicate string of pearls resting inside, each lustrous bead glowing softly in the sunlight filtering through the shop’s windows. Her breath caught. “Anthony,” she whispered, her voice tinged with awe. “They’re beautiful.”

“They reminded me of you,” he said simply, taking the necklace and fastening it around her throat. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck, lingering as she turned to face him.

“How do I look?” she asked softly.

Anthony’s gaze roamed her face with quiet intensity. “Like the most exquisite woman I’ve ever seen.”

The shopkeeper, observing discreetly, nodded in agreement. “A fine choice, my lord. A symbol of lasting devotion.”

Anthony nodded, his eyes never leaving Kate’s. “Exactly.”

Arnold and his wife, Hélène, greeted Kate and Anthony with warmth and enthusiasm at their charming home nestled beside the sprawling vineyard. The table on the terrace was a vision of rustic beauty, laden with fragrant French dishes, freshly baked bread, and bottles of Arnold’s finest wines. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and rose, the four of them toasted to friendship and good fortune.

“To old friends and new adventures,” Arnold declared, raising his glass high.

“And to new friends who seem far too lovely for their husbands,” Hélène added with a sly smile, her French accent lending her words a lilting charm.

Kate laughed, her eyes sparkling as she raised her glass. “I shall happily raise my glass to that sentiment.”

The wine flowed freely, warming cheeks and loosening tongues. As the evening deepened, Arnold leaned back in his chair, his grin widening as he turned his attention to Kate. “So, Lady Bridgerton,” he began, the mischievous twinkle in his eye growing brighter, “has Anthony ever told you about his daring escapades at Oxford?”

Kate glanced at Anthony, who groaned audibly. “Don’t you dare—”

“Pray, Arnold, do enlighten me,” Kate said, her tone sweet and coaxing. She set her glass down, leaning forward as though settling in for a story.

“Well,” Arnold began, his voice conspiratorial, “there was the time your husband decided it would be a grand romantic gesture to climb out of a third-story window to pick flowers from the dean’s garden.”

Kate’s brows shot up in delighted shock. “Anthony!” she exclaimed, already laughing.

Anthony muttered something unintelligible under his breath as Arnold pressed on, clearly relishing the tale. “He didn’t account for the fact that the trellis wouldn’t hold his weight. Down he went, right into a rose bush.”

Hélène clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, how French of him! Risking life and limb for love.”

“And the best part,” Arnold said, his grin devilish, “is that the young lady he was trying to woo caught him. She was on her way to meet someone else.”

Kate dissolved into laughter, clutching her sides. Tears glistened in her eyes as she gasped, “I can’t believe you never told me this!”

“I was hoping to take that memory to the grave,” Anthony grumbled, though his lips betrayed him with the faintest smile.

Hélène leaned toward Kate, her laughter as light and melodic as the clinking of glasses. “You see? These men act so serious, but they’re nothing but trouble at heart.”

Kate giggled, raising her glass to Hélène. “We’ll have to keep them in line.”

“And pour them more wine,” Hélène quipped, topping off Arnold’s glass with exaggerated flair.

Anthony shook his head but smiled, his gaze softening as he watched Kate. “I’m not sure whether it’s endearing or terrifying how quickly you two are conspiring against us.”

“Oh, definitely terrifying,” Arnold said, raising his glass to Hélène. “My wife is already dangerous enough.”

Hélène smirked. “And yet, you adore me.”

“That, I do,” Arnold said, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, making her laugh.

The stories continued, with Arnold recounting the time Anthony smuggled books from the library to help him cram for exams and the ill-fated goat prank that ended in a dining hall ban. By the time dessert was served, Kate and Hélène were thoroughly tipsy, their laughter frequent and unguarded.

As Arnold reached the end of another tale, Hélène turned to Kate, her gaze bright with curiosity. “That necklace is beautiful. I’ve been admiring it all evening.”

Kate’s fingers drifted to the pearls at her throat, her cheeks glowing. “Thank you. Anthony picked it out for me today.”

“Of course he did,” Hélène said, her tone teasing as she looked at Anthony. “Still one for grand romantic gestures?”

“Always,” Kate said before Anthony could reply, her eyes sparkling. “Though he’s not quite as subtle as he thinks.”

“Subtle?” Arnold interjected with a laugh. “This man? Never!”

Kate and Hélène dissolved into giggles, clinking their glasses together. “To husbands who try,” Hélène declared.

“And to wives who tolerate them,” Kate added, her grin playful.

Anthony shook his head, his arm slipping around Kate’s shoulders. “You’re going to regret encouraging her,” he murmured in her ear.

“Never,” Kate replied, leaning into him as her laughter softened.

As the evening wound down, the warmth of the wine lingered, and the four of them exchanged heartfelt goodbyes. Hélène hugged Kate tightly. “You must visit again,” she insisted. “We’ll conspire even more.”

Kate grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Next time, we’ll make the men fetch the wine,” Hélène murmured, squeezing Kate’s hands. “It’s only fair.”

The ride back to the inn was quiet at first, the glow of the moonlight casting soft shadows in the carriage. Anthony’s hand rested possessively on Kate’s thigh, his thumb brushing slow circles through the fabric of her dress. Kate leaned against Anthony, her head resting on his shoulder.

“That was lovely,” she murmured, her voice tinged with the pleasant haze of wine. “Though I’ll never let you forget that rose bush story.”

Anthony chuckled, his hand trailing down her side. “Laugh all you like, my love, but I’ll remind you that I risked thorns for a lady’s favor. That takes courage.”

Kate tilted her head to look at him, her smile mischievous. “I think you’ve only gotten more romantic.”

“And you,” Anthony murmured, his voice low and rich, “have made me shameless.” His lips brushed against hers, igniting a spark that quickly grew into a flame as the carriage rattled onward through the night.

The sky had deepened to a velvety navy by the time Anthony and Kate arrived at the inn. Lanterns cast a warm glow over the stone façade, the building inviting after a day filled with laughter, wine, and teasing glances. Inside their room, the low crackle of a fire in the hearth softened the atmosphere, casting golden light that danced across the walls and highlighted the lingering flush on Kate’s cheeks.

Kate swayed slightly as she removed her gloves, the effects of the wine still warm in her veins. She let out a soft, breathless laugh, her gaze drifting toward Anthony, who leaned casually against the doorframe. His cravat hung loose, his shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing the skin of his broad chest. He watched her with a look that sent a thrill down her spine—dark, hungry, and just a touch amused.

“You’re staring,” she said lightly, though her pulse quickened under the weight of his gaze.

Anthony pushed off the door, crossing the room in a few strides. “I’m…admiring,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, like velvet.

His hands came to rest on her shoulders, warm and steady, and Kate’s breath hitched as he stepped behind her. His fingers traced the line of her collarbone before skimming up to the delicate pearls resting at her throat. He toyed with the strand lightly, the movement slow and deliberate, before giving the faintest tug. The pearls tightened imperceptibly against her neck, sending a sharp, unexpected jolt of sensation through her.

Kate moaned softly, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. Her fingers fluttered upward, brushing his as she tilted her head back to look at him. Her cheeks, already pink from the wine, deepened to a richer hue.

Anthony stilled behind her, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as a smirk tugged at his lips. “You liked that,” he said, his tone edged with both curiosity and satisfaction. ”Didn’t you?”

Kate opened her mouth to protest, but no words came. Her lips parted, her breath unsteady, and Anthony’s grin widened. He tugged the pearls again, this time just enough to make her gasp, the sound soft but undeniable. Her hand flew to his wrist, though she made no move to stop him.

“Kate,” Anthony said softly, his voice coaxing and indulgent. He released the tension immediately, loosening the necklace as his hands dropped to her waist. Turning her to face him, he studied her with an intensity that made her knees feel weak. “Do you like that?” he asked, his tone low and intimate.

Kate hesitated, her teeth catching her bottom lip. “I just…” She faltered, her voice barely above a whisper. “It surprised me.”

Anthony’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, tempered by the tenderness in his eyes. “But did you like it?” he pressed gently, his thumb brushing over her hip.

Her gaze flicked to his, wary but not fearful. “You’re not going to tease me about this, are you?”

He chuckled, the sound warm and full of affection. “Only if you want me to.” His hands slid up her sides, cradling her face. “But, Kate, I want you to trust me—with your desires, with everything. Can you do that, my love?”

Her heart thundered in her chest, her body alive with a mix of nerves and anticipation. She nodded, her voice barely audible as she said, “Yes.”

Anthony’s smile softened, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Good,” he murmured before capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming. His hands roamed her body reverently, tracing the curves that were his alone to know.

When his fingers found the pearls again, he tugged them gently, replicating the sensation that had unraveled her moments before. Kate whimpered into his mouth, her hands clutching at his shoulders as her body leaned into his touch.

“Kate,” Anthony murmured against her lips, his forehead pressing to hers. His breath was hot and uneven, matching her own. “You’re so beautiful when you let go like this.” He gazed into her eyes. “Will you let go completely for me?” he whispered, his lips trailing down to her ear. “Let me make you feel good.”

Kate nodded, her breath shuddering as his lips moved to her neck, his hands guiding her toward the bed. The pearls tightened slightly once more as he slid the necklace aside, and this time, Kate didn’t try to hide her reaction. She arched against him, her soft moan fueling the fire between them.

Anthony’s smile was triumphant, but his gaze remained soft. “That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s it, Kate. Anything you want. Anything that brings you pleasure.”

Kate’s moans and Anthony’s gentle coaxings filled the room, and the rest of the world melted away.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun poured through the carriage windows, casting a warm glow over Kate’s book. She was deeply engrossed, her brow slightly furrowed and her fingers idly brushing the pages. Across from her, Anthony watched her, his arms crossed and his patience wearing thin.

She had barely looked at him for the past hour, her attention locked on the same page of her book. He had tried to draw her out—commenting on the countryside, teasing her about her focus—but nothing had worked. Something had shifted after last night’s encounter, and he wasn’t about to let it linger.

Leaning forward, Anthony cleared his throat theatrically. “Kate,” he began, his voice laced with exaggerated patience, “surely that book isn’t more captivating than your husband.”

Kate’s lips twitched, but she didn’t look up. “It’s an excellent book,” she replied lightly, her tone almost teasing but still distracted.

“It must be. You’ve been staring at that same page for the better part of an hour,” Anthony said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Kate’s cheeks flushed but she still didn’t look up. “Perhaps it’s an excellent page.”

“Or perhaps,” Anthony countered, “you’re ignoring me.”

Kate’s head snapped up. “Ignoring you? Why would I do that?”

“Are you embarrassed, Kate?” His tone was soft.

Her cheeks burned, and she turned her attention back to her book, though her focus was clearly shaken. “I don’t know what you mean,” she murmured. “I’m reading.”

Anthony tilted his head, studying her. “There’s no shame in blushing, Kate,” he said, his voice warm and affectionate. “You’re allowed to feel however you feel about what we did. But, you should also know this—I’ve never found you more captivating than when you let go for me.”

Her breath hitched, her fingers stilling on the page. She didn’t look up, but he saw the faint tremor in her hands.

Anthony sat back, deciding to take a different approach. “Very well, Lady Bridgerton,” he said, his tone lighter, almost playful. “If you insist on being stubborn, then so will I.”

Kate’s brow furrowed, her curiosity piqued despite herself. “What do you mean?” she asked, glancing at him over the top of her book.

Anthony’s brows lifted in challenge. “You wish to be left alone, so I’ll leave you alone. Consider it… a lesson in patience.”

Kate blinked, the book lowering slightly as she processed his words. “You’re joking.”

“Am I?” Anthony said, his gaze steady and unyielding. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

She narrowed her eyes, her lips pressing together in amusement. “Surely that’s more of a punishment to you than it is to me. A quiet afternoon with my book sounds quite refreshing.”

Anthony’s smirk widened, and a playful light gleamed in his eyes. “Is that so? Fine. Let’s see how refreshing you find it when I don’t speak to you for the rest of the journey.”

Kate tilted her head, her own eyes sparkling with defiance. “Fine. I won’t speak to you either.”

“Perfect,” Anthony said, leaning back and folding his arms. “Let’s see who lasts longer.”

Kate arched a brow, biting back a retort, and returned her attention to her book. The air between them seemed to crackle, the challenge hanging in the silence like a storm cloud.

The hours ticked by, and the countryside rolled on outside the window, but neither of them broke their vow. Occasionally, Anthony shifted in his seat, the rustle of his clothes drawing Kate’s attention despite herself. She stole a glance at him, only to find him watching her with a smug expression that made her spine stiffen.

Anthony, for his part, was doing his best to appear unaffected, but Kate’s studious determination to ignore him was driving him mad. The curve of her neck as she tilted her head, the way her fingers tapped idly on the spine of her book—it all seemed deliberately designed to torment him.

Kate, meanwhile, found herself hyper-aware of every movement Anthony made. The way he stretched out his legs, the occasional sigh he let escape, even the way his shirt strained slightly against his chest when he leaned back—it was impossible not to notice.

By the time the carriage pulled up to the inn, the tension between them was so thick it was practically suffocating.

The moment the carriage door opened, Anthony stepped out first, offering his hand to Kate. She took it begrudgingly, her gaze cool but her cheeks suspiciously pink.

They were shown to their room, the small but well-kept space illuminated by the warm glow of candlelight. A dinner tray was brought up, and they sat opposite each other at the small table, the silence between them still holding—though it now felt more like a fragile thread stretched to its breaking point.

Kate picked at her food, her appetite overshadowed by the tension swirling in her chest. Anthony seemed equally distracted, his fork idly tracing patterns on his plate rather than eating.

Finally, he broke. “This is ridiculous,” he said, his voice low but heated.

Kate’s gaze snapped to his, her eyes blazing. “I agree.”

“Then stop it,” he said, his tone somewhere between a plea and a command.

“Stop what?” she shot back, her voice trembling slightly. “You are the one who decided not to speak to me all afternoon.”

“Kate, you were ignoring me all morning,” he said, his voice quiet. “Because of last night. The necklace.” He watched as the faint color in her cheeks deepened, confirming his suspicion. “If you didn’t like it, we’ll never do it again. But you can’t ignore me.” He paused, watching her face change before he whispered, “And I think you did like it.”

Kate said nothing, her cheeks burning. She stared down at her plate.

“It’s alright if you did. I know how much you enjoy being under my hands,” he said softly. “What was it about the necklace that embarrassed you so much?”

“It didn’t embarrass me,” she said quietly, though the hesitance in her voice betrayed her.

Anthony reached out, his fingers brushing hers. “Then tell me,” he said gently. “Why do you look away from me now when you didn’t before?”

Kate hesitated, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “It just felt… different,” she admitted at last, her voice barely above a whisper. “When you hold me down or cover my mouth, it’s still… you. But the necklace—it made me feel…” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words. She had no idea how to explain to him the combination of shame and desire that coiled hot within her belly.

“Made you feel what?” Anthony prompted softly, his voice free of judgment.

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she forced herself to look at him. “It felt...dirty,” she whispered, her cheeks flaming. “A proper lady shouldn't like things like that. But I did, Anthony. I loved it. I just kept thinking about how you had bought the necklace for me, and I wore it all day, and then how you used it on me…it felt…possessive. And I didn't expect…” She faltered, unable to continue.

Anthony’s gaze sharpened, his hand sliding over hers. “Kate,” he said, his voice steady, “what you enjoy—what brings you pleasure—is never wrong. And I don't think of you as a…possession, if that's what you mean.”

She let out a frustrated laugh, shaking her head. “It's so hard to explain,” she muttered. “I liked feeling possessed by you. And that frightened me because I don't want to belong to anyone. Not even you.”

“Kate,” he murmured, his voice low. “I love you for your fierce independence. I know you don't need me at all,” he said, chuckling. “But in our bed, darling, you are free to be anything you wish. If it pleases you to feel possessed, I will gladly oblige.”

Her lips parted, her breath hitching as his words sank in. “You really mean that?”

“I do,” he said without hesitation. “My promise stands—whatever pleases you, we shall explore together.” He pushed back his chair and stood. He crossed the small distance between them in two strides, his hand cupping her jaw as he pulled her to her feet. “Now, will you please—”

Their kiss was a wild collision of pent-up frustration and unspoken desire, the day’s tension unraveling all at once. Anthony’s hands were everywhere—at her waist, threading through her hair, tugging her closer until there was no space left between them.

He paused, his fingers untying the cravat at his throat. “Can we try something?”

Kate’s eyes widened, her pulse racing. “Anthony…”

“Trust me,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. His fingers brushed her cheek, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “Do you trust me, Kate?”

Her heart thundered as she nodded. “Yes.”

“Good,” he murmured, his approval wrapping around her like a warm embrace. He guided her to the bed, sitting her on the edge before kneeling in front of her. His hands moved with care as he looped the cravat around her wrists, tying them together with a knot that was firm but not restrictive.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his thumb tracing the delicate skin of her wrist.

Kate nodded, her voice catching. Her pulse raced, a mix of trepidation and excitement coursing through her. This was new, unfamiliar—and yet, with Anthony, it felt thrillingly right. “Yes.”

He pushed her gently back onto the bed, arranging her bound hands above her head. The sight of her like this—pliant, trusting, and utterly his—made his chest ache with both tenderness and desire.

Anthony started slowly, his lips brushing over her collarbone as his hands roamed her body. His touch was deliberate, teasing, as though he was determined to explore every inch of her skin. Kate writhed beneath him, her bound hands flexing as she fought the urge to reach for him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his lips trailing down to the swell of her breasts. He tugged her bodice down, revealing her skin to his eager mouth. His tongue flicked over her nipple, and she arched into him with a soft cry.

“Anthony,” she gasped, her voice heavy with need. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, his teeth grazing her skin. “Tell me what you want.”

Kate’s breath shuddered as his hand slid beneath her skirts, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her thighs. “You,” she managed, her voice trembling. “I want you.”

Anthony chuckled, low and dark. “Not yet, my love. I want you begging for it.”

His hands roamed higher, his fingers gliding through her slick heat. Kate let out a broken moan, her hips bucking instinctively, but Anthony pulled back just enough to keep her on edge.

“Stay still,” he commanded softly, his voice tinged with both authority and affection.

Kate whimpered, her hands straining against the fabric. “I can’t,” she breathed, her body trembling with need.

“Yes, you can,” Anthony murmured, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both soothing and incendiary. “You’re far stronger than you believe.”

His fingers returned to her core, circling her sensitive bundle of nerves with maddening slowness. Kate cried out, her body alight with pleasure that teetered on the edge of too much.

“Anthony, please,” she begged, her voice raw. “I need—”

“I know what you need,” he said, his voice a low growl. He slid a finger inside her, then another, curling them in a way that made her see stars. “But you’ll have it when I decide.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, the intensity of her arousal overwhelming. “Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Anthony’s movements stilled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Is this too much? Should we stop?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Kate shook her head, her eyes glassy with both tears and satisfaction. “No,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”

Anthony smiled, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. She parted her lips, her tongue darting out to lick his thumb suggestively. He moaned, slowly pulling his other hand out from inside of her and watching in ecstasy as she licked her own taste off his fingers.

He kissed her deeply, his hands cradling her face as he finally gave her what she had been craving. Their soft moans filled the small space.

When it was over, he untied her wrists, his hands gentle as he massaged the delicate skin. “That’s my Kate,” he murmured, kissing her tear-streaked cheek. “All mine, all her own.”

Chapter Text

The lively hum of the bohemian street market echoed through the narrow, cobbled lanes, stalls overflowing with vibrant textiles, glimmering trinkets, and stacks of well-worn books. Kate and Anthony strolled hand in hand, their laughter mingling with the chatter of vendors and the occasional bark of a dog weaving between legs.

“This is your kind of place,” Anthony remarked, nodding toward a stall where a vendor gestured animatedly over a pile of rare books. “Full of dusty old volumes.”

Kate grinned, elbowing him lightly. “Not all of us are so allergic to literature, my love.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, his lips twitching in amusement. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I saw something that might interest me down there.” He motioned toward a stall displaying gleaming pocket watches and cufflinks.

Kate nodded, her heart skipping as he disappeared into the crowd. She felt a flicker of freedom as she approached the book stall, its offerings spilling from wooden crates and tilting precariously on mismatched shelves.

The vendor, an older man with a shrewd glint in his eye, greeted her with a knowing smile. “Looking for something special, madame?” he asked in lilting French.

Kate hesitated, her gaze darting over the spines of novels and collections of poetry. Tucked discreetly among the titles, her fingers landed on a slim, unmarked volume bound in soft, worn leather. She tilted her head, curiosity prickling as she ran her hand over its surface.

The vendor leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Ah, an intriguing choice. That one explores the… philosophy of pleasure,” he said, his tone delicate but weighted with implication. “Not for everyone, but those with a discerning taste will find it illuminating.”

Kate flushed but couldn’t stop her fingers from thumbing through the first few pages. The prose was elegant, poetic even, but undeniably explicit. Her cheeks burned hotter. Philosophy of pleasure, indeed. For a brief moment, she debated putting the leather-bound volume back. What if Anthony found it? What would he think of her for buying such a bawdy, indulgent thing? But the curiosity tugged harder, and she couldn’t resist.

She cleared her throat, summoning her composure. “I’ll take it,” she said briskly, plucking two additional books—a collection of poetry and a travelogue—to make the purchase seem less pointed.

As she paid, the vendor wrapped her selections in plain paper. “A bold choice, madame,” he murmured with a knowing smile.

Kate tucked the books into her bag quickly, her pulse racing as though she’d been caught in some act of rebellion. She rejoined Anthony moments later, her expression composed despite the warmth blooming in her chest.

“What did you end up finding?” Anthony asked as they stepped into their carriage, nodding toward her bag.

“Oh, some poetry,” Kate replied breezily, knowing full well his lack of interest in the subject would deter further questions.

Anthony groaned in mock dismay. “Poetry? Enjoy your incomprehensible verses, darling.”

Kate laughed, her relief hidden behind the sound. She pulled out the collection of poems and flipped through it idly, though the unmarked book seemed to burn a hole in her bag.

That night, after Anthony had fallen asleep, Kate slipped the leather-bound volume from her bag. She hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly before she opened it. The flickering light of the bedside candle danced across the pages as she read.

The text was captivating—sensual and unapologetic, weaving ideas of surrender and control with poetic grace. There were stories of bound wrists, whispered commands, and stolen moments of desire. But it was the underlying philosophy that gripped her most. One passage stopped her breath:

"When we surrender, we offer a gift of trust more valuable than any jewel. It is a bond, an act of love, to give and to receive this gift."

Kate read the words again and again, her heart pounding as they echoed her own feelings. Yielding to Anthony had made her feel conflicted, the hard lines of propriety she'd been raised to believe at odds with the way it felt to surrender to him completely. But this idea seemed to soothe that conflict immediately. A bond, an act of love.

Her gaze flicked to Anthony, his face softened in sleep. She thought of his steady hands, his whispered reassurances, the way he always asked—never demanded. Trusting him had become as natural as breathing.

Kate’s fingers tightened on the book as a small smile curved her lips. The philosophy of pleasure wasn’t merely indulgence; it was trust, connection, and a deep, unspoken bond that she was only beginning to understand.

Slipping the book back into her bag, Kate eased under the covers beside Anthony, her hand brushing lightly over his forearm. He stirred slightly, his brow relaxing as though he could feel her presence even in his dreams. She rested her head on the pillow, her thoughts dancing between the pages she’d read and the man lying next to her.

Chapter Text

The room was bathed in the dim glow of the dying fire, its embers casting flickering shadows on the walls. Kate lay curled against Anthony’s chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm beneath her cheek. The warmth of his arms around her and the faint scent of sandalwood on his skin grounded her, but her thoughts wandered, stirring unease beneath the calm surface.

Anthony’s fingers trailed lazily up and down her back, his touch soft, almost reverent. “You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and rich in the quiet of the room.

Kate hesitated, her fingers playing idly with the fine hairs on his chest. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he teased, pressing a kiss to her hair. “What’s on your mind?”

For a moment, she debated brushing it off, but the intimacy of their connection—the trust they had been building in these stolen moments—gave her courage. She lifted her head, her dark eyes meeting his. “Do you… expect this of me?” she asked softly, the words hesitant.

Anthony frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “Expect what?”

“This,” Kate said, her voice barely above a whisper. “The binding, the… control.” Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her gaze. “You’ve had so many women, Anthony. Mistresses, courtesans, women far more experienced than me. I just...”

His breath caught, and he sat up slightly, cupping her face to ensure her gaze stayed locked with his. “Kate,” he said firmly, his voice tinged with disbelief and tenderness. “Is that what you think?”

She looked away, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know your reputation. Everyone knew it before we married. You were a rake. You had… options.”

Anthony’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. He gently tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice steady and deliberate. “I need you to know something. I’ve never done this with anyone else. Not the...the teasing, not the binding, not any of it.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. “Never?”

“Never,” he confirmed. “I wouldn’t have even thought to try it if it hadn’t seemed like something you enjoyed. And I only did it because I wanted to please you.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his thumb grazing her cheek. “If you didn’t like it, we’d stop. Immediately.”

Kate blinked, her throat tightening. “You mean it?”

Anthony’s lips curved into a small, wry smile. “Of course, I mean it. Kate, you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted this way. The only one who’s ever mattered enough for me to want to understand every little thing that makes you feel good.”

She swallowed hard, her fingers brushing his wrist. “It does make me feel good,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushing. “But it’s not just that. I… I want to please you too.”

Anthony’s smile softened, his eyes glowing with warmth. “Kate,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tender rasp. “You do. Every single time you let me touch you, every time you let go for me, you please me more than you could ever know.”

Her lips twitched into a shy smile. “You mean to say you get pleasure from giving me pleasure?” she asked playfully, the hint of a teasing lilt in her voice.

Anthony laughed, the sound deep and unguarded, before brushing his lips against her forehead. “Absolutely,” he said, his voice warm and full of sincerity. “Seeing you let go like that? Hearing you cry out my name? It’s the most exquisite feeling in the world.”

Kate’s heart swelled at his confession, and she let herself relax fully into his embrace. “I feel the same,” she whispered. “Every time I see how much you want me, how much you enjoy it—it makes everything that much more…” She trailed off, searching for the words.

“Intense,” Anthony finished for her, his voice soft. He nodded softly. “It’s not just about the pleasure. It’s about knowing that I can make you feel safe enough to let go. That you trust me.”

Her smile deepened, the tension in her body easing completely. “I do trust you,” she murmured. “More than I ever thought I could trust anyone.”

“And I don’t take that lightly,” Anthony said, his voice serious but laced with affection. “Every time you trust me to guide you, to care for you, it’s… intoxicating.”

Kate exhaled softly, a wave of relief washing over her. She lowered her head to his chest again, her thoughts quiet for a moment. “It’s strange,” she said, her voice contemplative. “How much I love giving up control to you. It’s not something I ever imagined myself wanting.”

Anthony kissed her softly, his hands cradling her face as though she were the most precious thing in the world. “It’s not strange at all,” he said. “You’ve spent your whole life taking care of everyone else. Always being strong, always in control. It makes perfect sense that you’d want to let someone else take the reins every now and then. And I’m glad it’s me.”

Kate rested her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming her. “I’m glad it’s you too,” she murmured, her voice tinged with contentment.

They lay together in the quiet of the room, the embers of the fire casting their intertwined forms in a warm, golden glow.

Chapter Text

The sun dipped low as their carriage rumbled through the narrow streets of Paris, the warm tones of early evening spilling over the rooftops. Kate and Anthony reached a modest apartment tucked above a lively street, their home for the next few weeks. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was charming, and Kate already adored the wrought-iron balcony overlooking the city below.

As Kate stood at the rail, watching people stroll by, Anthony slipped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her. “What would you like to do tonight?” he murmured, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear.

Kate smiled, leaning into him. “Is it terrible if I say I just want to stay in with you?”

Anthony grinned, his lips brushing her neck. “Not at all. In fact, I was hoping you’d say that.”

His hands began to wander, fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths down her sides. Kate giggled as his lips pressed into her collarbone. “Anthony, we’re in public,” she whispered.

“Barely,” he murmured, tugging playfully at her skirt. His voice was low, teasing. “No one can see us.”

Her breath hitched as his hand slipped under the fabric, fingertips grazing the soft skin at the back of her thighs.

“Anthony,” she hissed, though she made no effort to stop him.

“Kate,” he whispered, his breath hot in her ear. “No one’s watching.”

A shiver ran down her spine as his hand crept higher, parting her thighs. She bit her lip, trying to stifle a gasp as his fingers pressed into her.

Anthony chuckled, his breath a soft vibration against her neck. “Careful, darling. Don’t want the whole city to hear you.”

Kate groaned, grasping the iron rail tighter. “Anthony—take me to bed.”

“Not just yet.” His fingers circled slowly, deliberately, teasing her until her legs trembled.

She gasped, her knees beginning to buckle. “Anthony. Bed. Now.”

He grinned, pleased with her unraveling. With a swift motion, he pulled her through the balcony doors, tossing her onto the bed with effortless ease, her skirts bunched around her thighs.

“Close the doors,” she murmured, nodding toward the balcony with a blush.

Anthony laughed as he turned to shut them. “Demanding tonight, aren’t we?”

“You like it,” she said, her voice breathless but teasing.

“Perhaps I do,” he admitted with a sly grin. Kneeling between her legs, he slid her skirts higher, his lips trailing kisses over her thighs. “What else do you want, my love?”

Kate’s breath caught as his mouth hovered just above her skin. “You know what I want.”

Anthony smirked, his gaze dark and mischievous. “Say it.”

Her cheeks burned. “Anthony—”

“Tell me,” he murmured between kisses to the soft skin of her thighs, each word a deliberate taunt, “exactly what you want.”

Kate squirmed beneath him, heat pooling low in her belly. “I want—” She faltered, gasping at his warm breath on her curls between her thighs. “Your– your mouth,” she whispered.

“What about it?” he watched her, enjoying how she blushed as he waited for her to say what he wanted to hear from her.

“You– put– Anthony, please,” she said sputtering. “I need to feel your mouth on me.”

His grin deepened. “Like this?” He kissed her inner thigh, eliciting a desperate whimper.

She groaned, shifting her hips toward his face. He laughed. “Say it, Kate. Tell me what you want.”

“Anthony, please, I cannot– just–” she trailed off as he continued to tease her with gentle touches and kisses. She grabbed his hair with her fingers and pushed his face down.

Anthony’s chuckle was low and satisfied as he obeyed, his tongue finding her with practiced precision. He worked her slowly at first, savoring every sound that escaped her lips.

Kate’s hands fisted in the sheets as pleasure built within her, her gasps turning into quiet, breathless cries. Just as she neared the edge, Anthony began to pull away, intending to bury himself inside her—but she clenched her thighs around his head, holding him in place. Anthony had the thought that this would be a nice way to die, trapped here in the musk and lily of Kate.

He chuckled at his morbid thought and the vibration sent her spiraling. With a final, shuddering moan—“Oh, Anth—” she came, the sound of his name half-formed and deliciously broken on her lips.

When she released him, Anthony rose quickly, shedding his trousers. He surged forward, pushing into her before the last waves of her climax had faded.

Kate gasped, her eyes wide as she gazed up at him, lips parted in bliss. He moved slowly, watching her face contort with every thrust. His body stilled.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

“I– what?” she laughed, panting. “This, I want this.”

Anthony thrust into her slowly, teasing her with his pace. “Like this?”

“No—faster,” she moaned, her hips bucking against him.

He obliged, moving quicker, though his strokes remained gentle. Kate squirmed beneath him, her voice urgent. “More, Anthony.”

He went faster, and she shook her head. “Harder,” she groaned.

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. “Demanding indeed.” But he complied, driving into her harder, faster, until she cried out beneath him.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his muscles burning, his mind racing with one million thoughts–all of them about her.

“Yes—oh—” Kate gasped, her head tipping back as pleasure overwhelmed her.

Anthony was nearly lost, teetering on the edge, when Kate wrapped her legs tightly around him, pulling him deeper. “Wait—wait—” she whispered, grinding against him, her breath hot against his ear.

He groaned, struggling to hold on, his body trembling under her touch. And then she went utterly still—silent except for the low, rumbling moan that vibrated deep in her throat, unlike any sound he’d ever heard from her.

It was that sound—the rawness of it—that was his undoing.

“Oh, Anth—”

The half-spoken syllable of his name was all it took. With a final, shattering thrust, he spilled into her, their cries muffled as they buried their faces in each other’s necks.

Chapter Text

On the morning of Anthony’s birthday, Kate woke before dawn’s light crept through the window. She smiled softly, watching him breathe, lost in dreams. “Happy birthday, my love,” she whispered, the words barely a breath against the morning stillness.

She pulled the sheets away and shifted down the bed, a wicked smile curling her lips. She took him into her mouth, running her tongue along his shaft in a leisurely rhythm, savoring the way his face transformed with each gentle stroke.

His eyes flew open, and a deep moan escaped him when he registered her presence. “Kate,” he groaned, desire thick in his voice. She relished the way her teasing ignited him, taking her time to explore, enjoying the sensation of pleasuring him. Curling comfortably against his leg, she took him deeper, feeling his fingers weave through her hair, soft sounds of satisfaction escaping from his lips.

“Get on top of me,” he rasped, his voice gravelly with sleep and want.

She complied, balancing her palms on his chest as she lowered herself onto him. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to move, the sensation washing over her. She felt his hand tugging at her silk nightdress, and she paused, pulling it off over her head. She loved the way he watched her, how his eyes sparkled with appreciation as her breasts swayed with her movements, and how he would bite and suck at her nipples if she leaned close enough.

With a sudden surge of energy, he pushed himself into a sitting position, pulling her closer. He buried his face against her chest, licking and sucking at her nipple while she ground against him, losing herself in the moment.

A soft laugh escaped his lips when she let out a loud whine. He could sense her climax building, and with a teasing bite to her nipple, he watched in delight as she gasped, caught between pleasure and surprise. It was then that he let himself go, spilling into her as she cried out, the sound echoing with pure ecstasy.

Panting, he leaned back against the headboard, both recovering from the intensity. She moved to get off of him, but he held her firmly in place, kissing her deeply. “You spoil me,” he murmured, his voice low and satisfied, before leaning back against the headboard again, closing his eyes. She giggled at the satisfied smile on his face.

That evening, they enjoyed dinner on the banks of the Seine, the setting sun casting golden hues over the water. Kate smiled as Anthony poured another glass of wine for both of them. They had gotten quite tipsy a few nights earlier and wandered the city at night, giggling and being far too affectionate to be appropriate, as they tried to find their apartment again. It was her favorite part of the trip so far, in fact, and she was happy at the idea of a repeat performance.

“Don’t worry, I remember how to get back to our place from here,” he said, nodding vaguely in the direction they had come from.

“I was just thinking I wouldn’t mind another night of wandering the city with you,” she replied.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” he said. He smirked at her. “Although, I was hoping to go back to our bed sooner rather than later…?”

“Sooner, absolutely,” she replied, tracing her fingers along his arm. Her expression turned mischievous. “Is this birthday everything you wanted?”

He leaned over and kissed her. “Yes. Everything.” He grinned. “But I will gladly take whatever else you are trying to offer me.”

They strolled hand in hand, their steps unhurried as Paris glowed around them. Kate teased Anthony about how many glasses of wine he’d had, and he countered by pulling her close, insisting she was the one swaying. When they finally returned to their lodgings, Kate left Anthony on the balcony while she retrieved his gift.

“I told you not to get me anything,” he protested, raising an eyebrow as she reappeared with a small box.

“Don’t be silly. It’s just something small.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Anthony.”

He opened the box to find a handkerchief nestled inside.

“I know you have plenty, but I—” she started, blushing. “Embroidery isn’t one of my talents, but I did my best.”

Anthony’s fingers traced the dark blue thread. It was a simple handkerchief, plain white with the exception of the embroidered corner. It was monogrammed with an ornate “B” for Bridgerton. Along the corner it read “with love, Kate.”

It wasn’t perfect, the stitching slightly uneven in places, but that only made it dearer to him. He could picture her bent over her work, determined to make something meaningful for him.

“Thank you, Kate. It’s my favorite one now,” he said, sincerity in his voice as he tucked it into the pocket closest to his heart.

Chapter Text

The market was alive with energy, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds as merchants called out their wares. Stalls overflowed with fresh produce, bolts of fabric, and gleaming trinkets, the air rich with the scent of spices, flowers, and baking bread. Kate lingered at a stall selling hand-painted pottery, her fingers tracing the delicate patterns on a vase as the vendor extolled its virtues in rapid French.

Anthony stood beside her, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they roved over the bustling scene. “It’s charming,” he said, nodding toward the vase. “But not nearly as captivating as the lady holding it.”

Kate rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “Flattery won’t earn you any favors, my love.”

“Won’t it?” he asked, leaning close enough that his breath brushed her ear. “Not even if I offer to distract you from the crowds?”

Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of intrigue. “What sort of distraction?”

Anthony’s hand brushed lightly against her back, the touch possessive yet discreet. “Let’s explore,” he murmured. “I saw a quiet alleyway just beyond the spice stalls.”

Kate glanced around. The other market-goers were engrossed in their haggling and chatter, paying them no mind. “We shouldn’t,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

His grin was wolfish as he took her hand, tugging her gently toward the edge of the market. “We absolutely should.”

They weaved through the crowd, slipping past stalls laden with fragrant herbs and dried chilies until they reached the alley. It was a narrow lane bordered by old stone walls, a quiet reprieve from the market’s chaos. Kate hesitated, glancing over her shoulder, but Anthony had already pulled her into the shadows.

“Anthony,” she began, her voice a mixture of protest and anticipation.

He silenced her with a kiss, his hands framing her face as he backed her against the cool stone wall. “Trust me,” he whispered, his voice low and commanding. “No one will find us.”

Her heart raced as his lips claimed hers again, his hands sliding to her waist and tugging her closer. The muted hum of the market faded into the background, eclipsed by the heat of his touch.

“Anthony,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing. “What if—”

“They won’t,” he assured her, his lips trailing down her neck. “And if they do… they’ll see a man who’s utterly mad for his wife.”

Kate’s protests melted as his hands slipped beneath her skirts, the roughness of his palms against her skin sending a thrill through her. He lifted her effortlessly, her back pressed against the wall as he freed himself. Her gasp was swallowed by his kiss as he entered her in one smooth motion.

The alley seemed to hold its breath, the quiet punctuated only by the faint buzz of the market beyond. Kate bit her lip to muffle a cry, her head tipping back as Anthony moved within her, deliberate and unrelenting.

“Quiet, my love,” he murmured, his hand brushing over her lips. “Unless you want them to hear.”

The command sent a shiver through her, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body obeyed. Every movement was magnified by the thrill of their stolen moment, her senses heightened by the risk and intimacy.

Kate’s climax came quickly, her body shuddering against his as she buried her face in his neck. Anthony followed moments later, his groan low and rough as he stilled, his arms tightening around her.

They lingered for a moment, their foreheads touching as their breaths mingled. Anthony set her gently back on her feet, smoothing her skirts with a care that made her blush. His hands lingered at her waist as he leaned in, his voice soft but firm. “My beautiful wife,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As they rejoined the market, Kate held her head high, determined to appear unruffled. The bustling crowd was none the wiser, but Anthony stayed close, his hand brushing the small of her back, a silent reminder of their shared secret. His gaze flicked to hers, his grin wicked, and Kate bit her lip to keep from laughing.

Chapter Text

The snow began to fall lightly in the late afternoon, delicate flakes swirling lazily in the crisp mountain air of the Swiss Alps. Kate leaned out the carriage window, her breath misting as she marveled at the way the world seemed to blur into softness. The snowflakes landed on her dark hair and lashes, melting almost instantly, leaving a faint shimmer behind.

“Anthony,” she whispered, her voice hushed with wonder, “I’ve never seen snow before. It’s… magical.”

Anthony, seated beside her, turned to watch her, his heart tightening at the sheer joy on her face. “Magical, hmm?” he mused, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it described like that.”

Kate turned back to him, her eyes sparkling. “Because you’ve probably grown used to it. For me, it feels like the whole world has changed in an instant.” She extended her hand out the window, watching the snowflakes dissolve on her glove. “It’s like catching tiny miracles.”

By the time dusk arrived, the storm had grown fierce, the road ahead vanishing beneath a thick, swirling blanket of white. The coachman pulled the carriage to a halt, his face grim as he spoke to Anthony about the worsening conditions.

“We’ll have to stop for the night,” Anthony told Kate, brushing a reassuring hand over hers. “There’s a small inn nearby, just up the road.”

Kate nodded, her initial disappointment quickly giving way to curiosity. The idea of being snowed in with Anthony felt like an adventure.

The inn, a sturdy timber-framed building nestled against the mountainside, welcomed them with the scent of roasting meat and the cheerful crackle of a fire. An older woman with a lilting accent bustled them inside, clucking about the storm as she offered hearty stew and mulled wine.

Kate’s cheeks glowed as she warmed herself by the fire, cradling a steaming cup in her hands. The flames danced in her dark eyes as she turned to Anthony, who sat beside her on a small bench, one arm draped protectively around her waist.

“This is rather romantic, don’t you think?” she mused, resting her head against his shoulder.

Anthony chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Getting stranded in a snowstorm isn’t what I had in mind for romance, but I suppose it has its charms.”

Kate nudged him playfully, her laughter light. “Admit it—you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “But only because you’re here.”

Later, tucked beneath thick woolen blankets in their small room, Kate drifted off to sleep to the sound of the wind howling outside. Anthony lay awake beside her, watching her with quiet reverence as the firelight painted her face in soft golds and shadows.

Kate stirred at the faintest touch, Anthony’s warm breath against her ear rousing her from her dreams.

“Kate,” he whispered, his voice low and tender. “Come with me.”

“Mmmph,” she mumbled, burrowing deeper into the covers. “It’s still dark.”

Anthony chuckled, his lips brushing her temple. “Not for long. Trust me, it’s worth it.”

Grumbling but curious, Kate allowed him to coax her from the bed. He bundled her in a thick cloak, wrapping a scarf snugly around her neck and pulling her gloves on with a care that made her chest ache with affection.

The cold air bit at her cheeks as they stepped outside, the snow crunching softly under their boots. The storm had passed, leaving behind a pristine, untouched world. Kate’s breath caught as she took in the scene.

The first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, turning the snowdrifts into a canvas of gold and blush. The mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks aglow with soft, amber light, while the valley below lay cloaked in ethereal mist. The air was crisp and still, the only sound the faint chirping of a bird waking to the new day.

“Oh, Anthony,” she breathed, her voice trembling with awe. “It’s…” She struggled to find the words.

“Beautiful,” he supplied softly, his arm slipping around her waist.

She turned to him, her eyes bright with wonder. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Anthony’s gaze was steady, filled with warmth as he studied her face. “It reminds me of you,” he said quietly.

Kate blinked, surprised. “Me?”

“Bright, radiant,” he said, his voice soft. “A little overwhelming.”

Kate laughed, the sound light and breathless. “Anthony Bridgerton, you’ve grown terribly poetic.”

“Only for you,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her cold nose.

They stood together in silence, the rising sun painting the earth in vivid light. The world seemed to hold its breath as they kissed, their warmth melting the cold around them. For a moment, it was just them—the snow, the mountains, and the quiet promise of a love that felt as endless as the dawn stretching before them.

As the first birds began to sing, Kate sighed contentedly, leaning her head against Anthony’s shoulder. “You were right,” she murmured. “This was worth waking up for.”

Anthony smiled, brushing his lips against her hair. “I told you.”

They lingered as the sun rose higher, neither willing to let go of the magic of the moment. The snow glistened like a thousand tiny stars beneath their feet. To Anthony, the only thing shining brighter was the woman in his arms.

Chapter Text

Although the snow had ceased, the roads remained blocked, trapping Kate and Anthony in the snug confines of the inn. They had spent much of the day wrapped in each other’s arms, occasionally leaving the warmth of the bed to eat the trays of hearty food that were brought to their door or to look outside to admire the snowy view. Eventually, Anthony stretched, reaching for his pocket watch on the bedside table.

“I’m going to speak with the innkeeper,” he said, his voice still husky from the languid hours spent in bed. “Perhaps someone has news about the roads.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, his touch as soft as his tone. “I’ll be back soon. Try not to get into too much trouble.”

Kate smiled as the door clicked shut behind him. She waited a moment, listening for his retreating footsteps, before slipping out of bed. Padding quietly to her trunk, she retrieved the small, leather-bound book she had hidden there.

Curling up beneath the quilt once more, Kate opened the book to where she had left off. It had taken her days to work through it, reading only in stolen moments when Anthony was absent. She had thought about reading it in front of him—after all, the cover bore no title, no hint of its content—but she knew she couldn’t stop the flush in her cheeks as she read it.

The book was unlike anything she had ever encountered. Its pages painted vivid scenes of lovers bound by silk, of tantalizing parties where bodies intertwined freely, of women commanding and surrendering with equal fervor. Between these stories were essays on the ethics of pleasure, musings that resonated with her in ways she hadn’t expected.

She paused at a particularly evocative chapter, her breath catching as she imagined herself in the place of a woman described in its pages—bound to a chair, her wrists and ankles secured, her lover alternating between giving and taking pleasure. The thought sent a delicious shiver through her.

Kate closed her eyes, her hand resting against the page as her imagination wandered. She pictured Anthony’s touch, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck, the commanding tone he used when he wanted her to yield. Her heart raced at the thought, anticipation mingling with a hint of apprehension.

She looked to the door, hoping Anthony would return and she could entice him back into the warm bed with her. But he didn’t, and she tucked the book beneath the pillow, closing her eyes as her hands drifted to her lower body. She imagined Anthony kissing the soft skin of her wrists and ankles before he tied them tightly.

When Anthony returned to the room, the hour had grown late, and the dim glow of the fire cast flickering shadows across the walls. He paused at the sight of Kate, her breathing deep and even, her form relaxed in sleep. A tender smile softened his features as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Hello, darling,” he murmured. “The bath should be ready for you soon.”

Kate smiled sleepily, stretching beneath the quilt. “That sounds wonderful,” she murmured, her voice soft with drowsiness.

“I had them send extra hot water,” Anthony said, brushing a stray curl from her face. “Take as long as you like. I’ll keep the room warm for you.”

She hesitated, her fingers trailing over the edge of the quilt as if she wanted to say something more, but then she simply nodded. “Thank you,” she said, leaning up to kiss him softly before slipping out of bed. She gathered her robe and some fresh towels, retreating to the bathing chamber down the hall.

Alone in the room, Anthony moved to stoke the fire. The crackling warmth filled the silence as he straightened, his gaze landing on the bed. Something caught his attention—a small, distinct shape beneath Kate’s pillow. Frowning, he reached out and slid it free.

The leather-bound book felt supple and well-worn in his hands. Curious, he opened it to the first page, his eyes widening as he took in the bold, unapologetic prose. His initial shock gave way to intrigue as he read on, the vivid depictions stirring equal parts fascination and understanding. This wasn’t just smut—it was a meditation on desire, trust, and surrender.

Anthony paused at a passage that struck him with its raw honesty:

"To entrust one’s body, one’s will, to another is the ultimate act of courage. It is not weakness but the bravest form of intimacy."

The words lingered, their truth sinking deep as he thought of Kate—her quiet strength, her hesitant vulnerability when she let herself yield to him. He realized how much this book must mean to her, how much she had been exploring without his knowing. He kept reading, engrossed not only in the content but in his desire to know Kate better.

The sound of the door opening startled him. Kate stood framed in the dim light from the hall, her cheeks pink from the warmth of the bath, her damp hair curling softly at her shoulders. Her gaze fell on the book in Anthony’s hands, and she froze.

“Anthony,” she started, her voice a mix of surprise and trepidation. “That’s not—”

He raised a hand to stop her, his expression gentle. “Kate,” he said, his tone steady. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her, her robe pulled tightly around her. “I didn’t know how,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was afraid you might think me… improper.”

Anthony moved toward her, the book still in his hand. “You thought I’d judge you?”

“No,” she said quickly, then hesitated. “Not judge. But… maybe think less of me. That I’m not—”

“Stop,” Anthony interrupted gently. He reached out, cupping her cheek with his free hand. “I could never think less of you. If anything, this…” He held up the book. “This shows me how much you’ve been exploring, growing, trying to understand yourself. That’s brave, Kate.”

Her eyes shimmered, and she swallowed hard. “You don’t think it’s… wrong? For me to want—”

“Kate,” he said firmly, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “What you want, what we share, is never wrong. It’s ours.” He flipped through the book, looking for the passage that had struck him earlier.

Anthony’s voice dropped to a tender murmur as he read: “To entrust one’s body, one’s will, to another is the ultimate act of courage. It is not weakness but the bravest form of intimacy.” He closed the book gently, his eyes meeting hers with quiet intensity. “Kate, this… this is what I feel when you surrender to me. Not control, not dominance, but the trust you place in me. Your courage. It humbles me.”

“Oh, Anthony,” she said breathlessly. She let herself come closer to him, and he dropped the book on the table, enveloping her in his arms.

“Why don’t you tell me more about this book of yours?” he asked, his voice low. He pulled her onto his lap on the bed. “Which parts in particular…resonated with you?”

“There were…a few,” she said, giggling as she avoided his dark gaze.

“Tell me everything,” he said, tilting her chin up and waiting to see her eyes before he kissed her deeply.

Chapter Text

The crisp air of Milan was a refreshing contrast to the snowy mountain passes they had recently left behind. The city bustled with life, its narrow streets teeming with energy as carriages jostled for space and pedestrians lingered at market stalls. Kate leaned out of the carriage window, her breath catching as the towering spires of the Duomo came into view, their intricate carvings like lace etched in stone.

“Anthony,” she breathed, her voice laced with awe. “It’s magnificent.”

Anthony followed her gaze, his hand resting lightly on hers. “It is,” he said, though his eyes lingered on her rather than the cathedral.

Their carriage came to a stop in front of a small, elegant inn near one of Milan’s vibrant piazzas. The cheerful notes of a street musician’s violin floated through the air, mingling with the chatter of locals and the soft hum of fountains. Anthony helped Kate down, his steady hand at her waist as they entered.

“Do you think we’ll have time to explore before we leave for Florence?” Kate asked as they ascended the inn’s narrow staircase.

Anthony smiled. “We’ll make time. I want you to see everything that catches your eye.”

After settling into their room and sharing a simple lunch, Anthony insisted on taking Kate to the Duomo. The grandeur of the cathedral’s interior left her in hushed wonder, the colored light from its stained-glass windows casting brilliant patterns across the marble floor.

“This feels… otherworldly,” she said quietly.

Anthony, standing a few steps behind, watched her with quiet admiration. “It suits you.”

Kate turned to him, her brows lifting in question.

“You carry yourself with the same quiet strength as this place,” he explained. “Timeless. Beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed as she looked away, smiling softly. “You’re insufferable lately.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, stepping closer. “But I’ll never regret telling you how I see you.”

As the sun dipped low over the city, casting the rooftops in warm, golden light, Anthony led Kate to a nearby canal lined with cafés and street vendors. The two of them strolled hand in hand, pausing occasionally to admire the wares of local artisans.

At one stall, Kate’s attention was caught by a display of silk scarves in a riot of colors. She held up a deep teal one, running her fingers over the soft fabric. “It’s lovely,” she murmured, tracing the intricate design painted on it.

Anthony, without hesitation, paid the vendor. He draped the scarf over her shoulders, his fingers brushing the nape of her neck. “Perfect,” he said softly, his voice tinged with warmth.

Kate laughed, the sound light and full of affection. “You spoil me.”

“Unapologetically,” Anthony replied, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After a day filled with breathtaking sights, their room welcomed them back with a warm glow from the fire. Kate sat on the bed, the teal scarf Anthony had bought her draped loosely over her lap. She ran her fingers along the smooth fabric, her thoughts drifting between the beauty of the day and the man who had made it perfect.

Anthony crossed the room toward her, his eyes soft but curious. “What’s on your mind, darling?”

She hesitated for a moment, twisting the scarf between her fingers. “Would you…try something for me?”

His brow arched. “What sort of something?” he asked, his voice both warm and teasing.

Her cheeks flushed, but she met his gaze. “With this,” she said, lifting the scarf. “I was wondering if you might…use it.”

Anthony’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, interest sparking in their depths. He took the scarf, running it between his fingers. “Use it how?”

Kate swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. “Around my neck,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “To… hold me. To… control me.”

Anthony’s breath caught, and he stared at her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and the scarf. “Kate,” he said slowly, his voice tinged with concern. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

She reached for his hand, her fingers curling around his. “You won’t,” she said firmly. “I trust you, Anthony. Completely. And the idea of giving myself over to you like that…” She trailed off, her blush deepening. “It’s driving me mad.”

Anthony let out a low groan, his free hand sliding to her cheek. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “But if this is what you want, we’ll try it. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

She nodded eagerly, her heart hammering in her chest. “I will. I promise.”

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss. When he pulled back, his gaze was intense, a mix of desire and care. “Undress. Lie back,” he commanded softly.

Kate obeyed, her heart pounding as Anthony climbed onto the bed. He folded the scarf carefully, slipping it around her neck. His hands were steady as he tied it, the silk cool against her skin. He tested the tension with a gentle tug, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Perfect,” she breathed, her body already trembling with anticipation.

Anthony groaned again, his restraint slipping as he leaned down, his lips trailing along the skin of her collarbone. His hands gripped the scarf, pulling it taut just enough to press lightly against her throat. Kate gasped, her back arching off the bed as a wave of heat coursed through her.

“Kate,” Anthony rasped, his breath hot against her ear. “You’re unbelievable.”

She whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders as he held her in place with the scarf. The combination of the silk’s pressure and Anthony’s weight against her body was intoxicating, leaving her trembling beneath him.

“You like this,” he said, his voice both surprised and deeply pleased.

“I love it,” she breathed, her voice raw with need.

Anthony tightened his grip slightly, his eyes fixed on her face to gauge her reaction. When she moaned, her head tipping back in surrender, he growled low in his throat, his restraint unraveling completely.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice rough as he claimed her lips again. “Every inch of you. Every breath.”

Kate cried out, her body shuddering beneath him as he moved with precision and control, his strength and dominance tempered by the tender care he always showed her.

When they finally collapsed together, breathless and tangled in the sheets, Anthony untied the scarf, brushing his fingers over the faint marks it had left on her skin.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with concern.

Kate smiled, her hand cupping his cheek. “I’ve never been better,” she said. “You make me feel…safe, Anthony. Safe and free at the same time.”

His lips curved into a tender smile as he kissed her forehead. “And you make me feel like the luckiest man alive.”

Outside, the city seemed a world away, its bustling energy replaced by the quiet intimacy of their room. Anthony’s hand slid into her hair, his voice a soft murmur. “You’re like a…a diamond.”

Kate laughed softly. “What do you mean?”

“So many facets. All of them beautiful. Simply exquisite.” His eyes were closed, and his voice had taken on a sleepy, dreamlike quality.

“Anthony,” Kate sighed contentedly, her cheeks flushing. “You flatter me too much.”

He made a satisfied grunt from low in his chest. “Never. I love you, Kate. Every part of you.”

Kate smiled, her eyes heavy. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice as soft as the glow of the dying fire. “Every part.”

Chapter Text

“Oh, this is lovely,” Kate said, her fingers tracing over the leaves etched into a leather collar. “Wouldn’t Newton look so handsome in this?”

They were wandering through a vibrant street market after lunch in Florence. Kate conversed easily with the merchant in Italian and reached into her reticule, but Anthony gently pushed her hand away, sliding a coin into the vendor’s palm.

“I would have paid—it’s for my dog, after all,” she teased.

Anthony’s eyes narrowed in mock frustration. “He’s our dog, and you won’t let me forget it.” His gaze swept over the stalls. “Are you certain there’s nothing here you want?”

He shook his head when she gestured toward her basket filled with carefully selected gifts for their family. “I meant that you want for yourself?”

She laughed. “No, I don’t need anything. I’m just excited to give these to everyone. Especially Edwina—oh.” Her smile faltered.

Anthony’s brow creased with concern. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” she sighed. “I just realized… I don’t know when I’ll see Edwina again. By the time we return, she’ll already be on her honeymoon. And they’re traveling even longer than we are.”

He drew her away from the bustle of the market, sitting beside her on a quiet bench. “Would you like me to write to them? We could travel to Berlin before we return to London.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “We couldn’t.”

Anthony looked at her, his brows crumpled in confusion. “Why not?”

Her laugh bubbled out, bright and warm. “We can just go? To Prussia?”

“If that’s what you want, yes. I’m sure Edwina and Mary would love to see you.”

She hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Anthony. Thank you.”

His cheeks turned a charming shade of pink. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, but he looked pleased. “Now, come. We’re not leaving until we find something for you.”

Their lodgings in Florence were modest but charming, with high ceilings and large windows that opened onto a small balcony overlooking the bustling streets below. The late afternoon sun cast warm golden light over Kate as she sat at the desk, finishing her letter to Edwina. The soft scratch of the pen filled the room, accompanied by the faint sounds of the city beyond their windows.

When she finished, Anthony took the letter from her, placing it with his own. “I’ll send these now.” He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her temple. “I’ll be back shortly.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Kate settled into the armchair near the window, her legs curled beneath her. Her market find book was perched on the arm, a piece of parchment tucked in it to mark Anthony’s place. He had insisted on reading the book himself after his discovery. She opened it to just before the place he had marked and began reading.

The story was tantalizing, weaving threads of pleasure and restraint into a narrative that sent a thrill through her. Her cheeks warmed as she reached the passage about a woman tied to a chair, her lover teasing her mercilessly as he took his time exploring her desires. The vivid description left her breathless, her imagination drifting to Anthony.

The door opened, and Kate startled, snapping the book shut. But instead of tucking it away, she left it resting in her lap, meeting Anthony’s gaze as he stepped inside.

Anthony’s brow arched as his eyes fell on the book. “You’re reading it again,” he observed, his voice tinged with amusement. “Which part this time?”

Kate’s cheeks flushed, but she held her ground. “A story about a chair,” she said lightly, though her voice carried a note of challenge.

Anthony’s smirk deepened as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. “A chair, you say? And what exactly happens with this chair?”

Kate tilted her chin up, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “I believe it involves silk, binding, and a great deal of patience.”

Anthony chuckled. “Is that so?” His fingers toyed with the edge of her skirt, his gaze darkening. “Would you care to demonstrate?”

Kate swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. “Perhaps you should be the one to demonstrate,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady.

Anthony’s smile turned devilish as he held out his hand. “Stand up.”

Her breath caught, but she obeyed, her book sliding to the seat of the chair as she rose.

“Undress. Present yourself to me,” his voice was rough, and Kate felt herself shiver in anticipation as she began to slip out of her gown.

Anthony pulled the chair away from the window, positioning it in the center of the room. When she was completely bare, he guided her to sit, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

Kate nodded, her eyes locked on his as he picked up the blue scarf. He looped it around her wrists first, tying them securely behind the chair. His touch was firm but gentle, and she shivered as the cool silk brushed against her skin.

“Now your ankles,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

Kate’s chest rose and fell quickly as Anthony knelt in front of her, binding her ankles to the chair’s front legs with her own stockings. The position left her exposed and vulnerable, and the intensity of his gaze as he looked up at her made her heart race.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his hands sliding up her thighs.

“Always,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Anthony leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. “Good. Because I plan to make you wait, just like in your little story.”

Kate’s head tipped back against the chair, her breath catching as his hands moved higher, his touch maddeningly slow. The sensation of the restraints and the deliberate pace of his exploration left her trembling with anticipation, every nerve alight with sensation.

“Anthony,” she gasped, her voice a plea.

“Hush,” he said, his tone equal parts teasing and commanding. “Let me enjoy this.”

And enjoy it he did, drawing soft cries and gasps from Kate as he worshiped her with his hands and mouth. By the time he untied her, she was breathless and boneless, her body thrumming with satisfaction.

As Anthony carried her to bed, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his voice a low murmur against her hair. “You are a wonder, Kate. I never thought I’d know someone like you.”

Her arms tightened around his neck, her head resting against his shoulder. “I feel the same about you,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet emotion.

He laid her gently on the bed, brushing a stray curl from her face. His gaze held hers, warm and unwavering. “I love you.”

She smiled, her eyes heavy with contentment as she reached up to touch his cheek. “And I love you.”

Chapter Text

The gentle lapping of water against the small wooden boat provided a soothing backdrop as Anthony rowed them along a quiet stretch of the river. The late morning sun was warm but not oppressive, and the air carried the faint scent of blooming wildflowers from the banks.

Kate reclined against a cushion at the stern, her hat shielding her from the sun as she watched her husband with an amused smile. “You’re very determined, my love,” she teased, her gaze lingering on the way his shirt clung to his arms, the fabric damp with effort.

Anthony glanced at her with a raised brow. “Determined to keep us from drifting into the reeds, perhaps. Unless you’d like to try rowing?”

Kate laughed, the sound light and musical. “I’d sooner let us drift. You seem to have everything under control.”

“Always,” Anthony said, his tone smug as he adjusted their course. He paused, pretending to flex his muscles dramatically. “Do you admire my form, or are you too busy lounging to notice?”

Kate shook her head, chuckling. “You’re insufferable.”

“Admit it,” he pressed, his grin widening. “You’re quite taken with me.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded, her voice playful. “Though it’s your determination I admire most. Look at you, fighting valiantly against the current.”

Anthony’s laugh was deep and genuine. “You’ll find I excel at most things I set my mind to, Lady Bridgerton. Including impressing my wife.”

“You’re doing an admirable job,” she said, her teasing softened by the affection in her gaze.

They drifted to a shaded inlet where Anthony secured the boat and helped Kate step onto the bank. The grass was lush and dotted with tiny purple and white flowers, and the river’s gentle current provided a soft melody as they unpacked their picnic.

Kate spread out the blanket as Anthony retrieved a small basket. Inside, there was fresh bread, cheese, ripe figs, and a bottle of white wine. Kate’s eyes lit up when she saw a bundle of jasmine tucked alongside the food.

“Did you do this?” she asked, taking the flowers and inhaling their sweet fragrance.

Anthony shrugged, his smile boyish. “Maybe. I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” she said softly, touched by the simple gesture. “Thank you.”

They sat side by side, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. Kate plucked at the grass absently, her gaze drifting to the river. “I’ve never felt more at peace than I do here,” she said. “With you.”

Anthony’s hand found hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Then I’ve done my job.”

The riverbank was alive with the colors of wildflowers, their petals swaying gently in the breeze. After their meal, Kate reclined on the blanket, her hands idly plucking daisies and violets from the grass around her. Anthony lay beside her, his arm propped under his head as he watched her with lazy affection.

“What are you doing?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“Making something,” Kate replied mysteriously, glancing at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Anthony sat up, his curiosity piqued. “What sort of something?”

She held up a half-finished ring of woven flowers. “A crown.”

“A crown?” he repeated, raising a brow. “For me, I assume?”

“Absolutely not,” Kate teased, sticking her tongue out at him. “This one’s for me. You’ll have to make your own.”

Anthony scoffed playfully. “I could make a better one than that in half the time.”

Kate tilted her head, smirking. “Prove it.”

Challenge accepted, Anthony plucked a handful of flowers from the field and set to work. Kate watched as his fingers moved with surprising skill, weaving the stems together with practiced ease.

“You’re good at this,” she said, genuinely impressed. “Where did you learn?”

Anthony grinned, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I have four sisters. Daphne, in particular, was adamant that I learned when we were children. She said a proper brother should know how to help his sisters with their crowns for garden parties.”

Kate laughed softly, the image of a young Anthony, likely grumbling but dutiful, crafting flower crowns for his sisters warming her heart. “And here I thought you spent your childhood terrorizing them.”

“Oh, I did,” he said with a wicked grin. “But I had my moments of brotherly duty.”

When he finished, Anthony held up his crown—a perfect circle of bright daisies and wild violets. “What do you think?”

Kate feigned scrutiny, her lips pursed. “It’s decent, I suppose.”

“Decent?” he echoed, mock outrage in his tone. “This is a masterpiece.”

“Let’s see how it looks, then.” She leaned forward, placing the crown gently on his head. “Perfect,” she said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

Anthony reached for her half-finished crown, completing it with quick precision. “And now for you.” He placed it on her head, his fingers lingering as he adjusted it. “There. A true queen.”

They sat for a moment, admiring each other with wide smiles. But Anthony’s grin turned mischievous as he leaned closer. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you should really bow to your king.”

Kate laughed, shoving him lightly before springing to her feet. “Catch me first!” she called over her shoulder as she darted into the field.

Anthony didn’t hesitate. He was on his feet in an instant, chasing after her through the sea of flowers. Their laughter echoed across the meadow as Kate darted this way and that, her flower crown slightly askew as she tried to evade him.

“You’re fast,” Anthony called, his tone breathless but playful. “But I’m faster.”

“We’ll see about that!” Kate retorted, her cheeks flushed from both exertion and joy.

With a sudden burst of speed, Anthony caught her wrist, pulling her toward him. They tumbled into the soft grass, Anthony cushioning Kate’s fall as they landed in a tangle of limbs. Her laughter faded into breathless giggles as she found herself pinned beneath him.

“I win,” Anthony declared, his voice low and triumphant. His eyes roamed her face, lingering on her kiss-swollen lips and the flower crown now tilted precariously on her head.

Kate’s giggles softened, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. “I suppose you do.”

Anthony leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that started tender and deepened quickly. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, the scent of flowers and sunshine surrounding them, made the moment feel surreal.

“Kate,” he murmured against her lips, his voice heavy with need.

“Yes,” she whispered, her hands sliding into his hair, the crown slipping to the ground as she pulled him closer.

Anthony didn’t waste a second. His hand slid up her thigh, pushing her skirts out of the way with urgency. Their movements were quick, heated, and full of passion, driven by the energy of their chase and the beauty of the day.

When they finally stilled, their breaths mingling and hearts pounding, Anthony rested his forehead against hers. “You are everything,” he said softly, his voice tinged with awe.

Kate smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “And you,” she replied, her voice light but sincere, “are insufferable.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her nose before rolling onto his back and pulling her into his side. They lay together in the field, the flowers around them bearing witness to a love that felt as boundless as the sky above.

Chapter Text

The warm Roman sun bathed the ruins of the Forum in golden light as Kate and Anthony wandered hand in hand, their footsteps echoing faintly over the ancient stones. The towering columns and crumbling arches loomed around them, silent reminders of a once-mighty empire.

Anthony’s enthusiasm was palpable as he gestured animatedly toward the remains of a temple. “This was the Temple of Saturn,” he explained, his voice rich with excitement. “It was one of the oldest in the Forum, dedicated to the god of wealth and time. They kept the Roman treasury here.”

Kate tilted her head, her eyes following the line of his outstretched hand. “And those columns?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Part of the original structure,” he said, clearly delighted by her interest. “Can you imagine? These have stood here for over two thousand years. Two thousand years, Kate!”

She smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. “It is remarkable,” she agreed, squeezing his hand. “You seem to know an awful lot about Roman history, my love.”

Anthony grinned, pausing to look down at her. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it? In my father’s library at Aubrey Hall there’s a book all about the Roman Empire. I spent hours reading it as a boy. I suppose some of it stuck.”

He led her to a series of steps overlooking the sprawling ruins, their vantage point offering a stunning view of the Forum below. “This place,” he said, gesturing widely, “was the heart of the Roman Empire. Political debates, triumphal parades, markets—it all happened here. It’s humbling, isn’t it? To stand where Cicero might have walked, where Caesar himself stood.”

Kate nodded, watching the way his face lit up as he spoke. His passion was infectious, and she found herself drawn into his words, even though she already knew most of what he was saying. She didn’t care—she loved listening to him.

As the day wore on, Anthony pointed out more landmarks, sharing anecdotes and trivia about emperors, senators, and battles. By the time the sun dipped low in the sky, painting the ruins in shades of amber and rose, they had explored nearly every corner of the Forum.

Later that evening, they dined at a cozy trattoria, the warm glow of candles reflecting off the polished wood of the table. Outside, the faint sounds of the bustling Roman streets provided a charming backdrop to their intimate meal. Anthony was animated, recounting stories from the day with the same enthusiasm he’d shown while touring the ruins.

“And wasn’t that incredible?” he said, gesturing with his wine glass. “The statue of Agrippa near the Pantheon—it’s fascinating how influential he was. He was an architect, but also a general. Did you know he was the mastermind behind the victory at Actium?”

Kate nodded, smiling at his excitement. “Yes. And he was a statesman as well.”

Anthony froze mid-sip, lowering his glass slowly. “Wait,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “How do you know that?”

Kate blinked, her cheeks flushing faintly. “I—well—”

“I didn’t tell you that earlier,” he said, leaning forward, suspicion laced with amusement. “Which means... you already knew.”

She fidgeted, twirling her fork in the remnants of her pasta. “Perhaps.”

Anthony’s mouth fell open. “You mean to tell me you knew all of this? All the history I’ve been explaining to you all day?”

Kate gave him a sheepish smile, her blush deepening. “Some of it.”

“Some of it?” he echoed, incredulous. “Kate, I spent twenty minutes passionately describing Caesar’s rise to power. Did you know about that, too?”

She hesitated before giving him a small, apologetic nod.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, though his eyes were sparkling now with humor. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Kate sighed, setting her fork down and reaching for his hand. “Because you were so excited. I didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

Anthony stared at her, a mix of exasperation and affection crossing his face. “So you just let me ramble on like a fool?”

“You weren’t rambling,” she said firmly, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You were sharing something you love with me. And I loved hearing you talk about it.”

His expression softened, though he still looked faintly put out. “You really enjoyed it?”

She nodded, her gaze warm. “More than you know. Watching you light up when you talked about Rome, hearing your passion—it was... wonderful. I didn’t want to interrupt that.”

Anthony was silent for a moment, his brow furrowing as though considering her words. Then, to her surprise, he laughed—a low, genuine sound that made her smile in return.

“You’re something else, Kate Bridgerton,” he said, shaking his head. “Letting me think I was teaching you something when you probably know more about Roman history than I do.”

“Probably,” she teased, grinning. “But I think I’ll keep you on as my personal historian anyway. You make the stories so much more entertaining.”

Anthony chuckled, raising his glass. “To my clever wife, who knows far more than she lets on.”

Kate lifted her own glass, her smile soft. “And to my dashing husband, who made me fall in love with Roman history all over again today.”

Their glasses clinked softly, and Anthony leaned toward her, his hand brushing hers as he pressed a fleeting yet tender kiss to her cheek, the warmth of the gesture lingering as the glow of the candlelight danced between them.

Chapter Text

On their last day in Rome, Kate realized she hadn’t had her courses since August. She didn’t jump to pregnancy right away—her cycles had never been regular. When she traveled from India to England, the stress and upheaval had caused her to go three entire months without bleeding. But as the thought crossed her mind, a tiny spark of hope began to grow.

Could it be?

The possibility thrilled her more than she’d expected. Anthony’s child. She found herself daydreaming of a little one with golden brown eyes and dark curls, a sweet, warm smile that mirrored his father’s. She pictured Anthony cradling a baby in his arms, his strong hands so gentle, his soft laughter filling the room.

She tried to temper her imagination, knowing it was early—far too early to think like this. And yet, the thought lingered, warming her from the inside out.

When Kate started her courses a few nights later, the disappointment hit harder than she’d anticipated. It felt silly, crying over something that had only existed in her hopes and dreams. But the ache was there, and she couldn’t shake it.

By the time she walked into the bedroom of their vacation home in Athens, she had wiped away the tears, but she couldn’t meet Anthony’s eyes. He had a way of seeing through her, peeling back the layers she tried to hide.

He was already in bed, his broad shoulders illuminated by the soft glow of the single candle still burning on the bedside table. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice gentle but probing.

Kate smirked, though the gesture felt weak. How did he always know? “I started my courses.”

“Ah,” Anthony said, his voice soft. He sat up slightly, concern flickering in his eyes. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” she said quickly. “A little. I’m fine.”

Slipping under the covers, she curled into him, seeking the comfort of his warmth. Anthony extinguished the candle, plunging the room into darkness. She listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet intimacy of the moment making her feel braver.

“I am a little disappointed,” she admitted after a long silence.

Anthony shifted, tilting his head toward her. “What do you mean?”

She took a deep breath. “I suppose I was hoping…that I would be…with child.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and full of unspoken longing. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel him processing her confession.

“It’s silly, I know,” she continued, her voice quieter. “I know it can take time sometimes.”

Anthony kissed her temple, his lips warm and reassuring. “It’s not silly,” he said firmly. His fingers trailed through the loose strands of her hair, soothing and steady. “It will happen when the time is right.”

Kate let out a soft breath, some of the tension in her chest easing.

“Honestly,” Anthony added, his voice tinged with quiet amusement, “I’m grateful for a little more time with just the two of us.”

His words surprised her, and she turned her face toward him, her brows lifting in the dark. “You are?”

He chuckled softly. “Kate, these past months with you have been the happiest of my life. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. And when the time comes—when we have a child—we’ll be ready. But for now, I want to savor every moment with you.”

Kate smiled, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. “You always know just what to say.”

“And,” he continued, a playful lilt creeping into his tone, “it’s not like we don’t enjoy trying.”

She laughed softly, the sound easing the last of her melancholy.

Anthony grinned, pulling her closer. “And we will keep trying, my darling. Every day. Every hour, if I get my way.”

“Every hour?” she teased, swatting lightly at his chest.

He captured her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before moving to her wrist, then her neck. “Every hour,” he repeated, his voice low and full of promise.

Kate’s laughter turned into a contented sigh as his lips found hers. They sank deeper into each other, their connection a balm to the disappointment she had felt. Here, in his arms, the future felt bright, full of love, hope, and endless possibilities.

Chapter Text

Traveling through southern Italy had given Kate many beautiful memories. Lemon groves that smelled overwhelmingly sweet, dramatic seaside cliffs where waves crashed hard below, and the most delicious wine she’d ever tasted would linger in her mind for the rest of her life. But perhaps even better than those memories were the ones of Anthony—the way he touched her, teased her, and cherished her with a tenderness that both thrilled and grounded her.

The inn they had chosen for the evening was perched on a hillside overlooking the sea, its private balcony offering a sweeping view of the moonlit waves. The air was warm, with a faint breeze carrying the scent of salt and citrus. Kate stood on the balcony, wrapped in one of Anthony’s shirts, the hem brushing her thighs as she leaned against the railing.

Anthony stepped outside, his presence like gravity pulling her attention away from the horizon. His hands settled on her waist, and she leaned back against him. “What are you thinking about?” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

Kate smiled softly. “How perfect this place is. How lucky we are to be here together.” She tilted her head to look up at him, her gaze warm and unguarded. “How much I love you.”

Anthony’s arms tightened around her, his chest rumbling with a contented hum. “I love you too, Kate. More than I could ever put into words.”

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and filled with the rhythm of the waves below. Finally, Kate turned in his arms, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “Come with me,” she whispered, her voice low and inviting.

Anthony smiled, brushing his thumb along her jawline. “Always,” he said simply, following her back into their room.

Inside, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lantern, its light casting warm shadows along the walls. Kate climbed onto the bed, her movements unhurried, and Anthony watched her with a quiet intensity that sent warmth coursing through her.

As he joined her, his hands skimmed over her thighs, the fabric of his shirt bunching beneath his touch. “You wear this better than I ever could,” he said, his voice tinged with playful admiration.

Kate laughed softly, her fingers threading through his hair as he leaned down to kiss her. The kiss was slow, unhurried, a tender exploration that deepened as their bodies pressed closer together.

Unlike their recent encounters, there was no urgency or playful teasing, no ties or scarves or whispered commands. Instead, their movements were gentle and intuitive, guided by the simple desire to feel close to one another.

Anthony’s hands roamed over her body, his touch reverent and deliberate. He kissed her slowly, his lips lingering on her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, as though savoring every inch of her. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with affection.

Kate’s hands moved over his back, her nails grazing his skin lightly. “You make me feel beautiful,” she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

When he entered her, it was with a care that made her breath hitch. Their rhythm was slow and steady, each movement deliberate, as though they were communicating in a language only they could understand.

Kate’s fingers tightened against his shoulders, her body arching to meet his. “This,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “This is everything.”

Anthony pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing ragged but controlled. “You’re everything,” he replied, his voice breaking with emotion.

They stayed like that, their bodies and souls intertwined, the world outside their room fading into insignificance. And as they drifted into sleep, their breaths mingling and their bodies entwined, the only sound was the faint crashing of waves below.

Chapter Text

The sapphire waters of the Ionian Sea sparkled under the midday sun as the ship anchored near Corfu, the lush island rising like an emerald from the deep. Kate leaned eagerly over the rail, her dark hair swept back by the sea breeze, her cheeks glowing with anticipation. The sight before her was unlike anything she had ever seen, and it stole her breath.

Anthony appeared at her side, his hand settling lightly at the small of her back. “Quite the view,” he said, though his eyes lingered on her rather than the landscape.

She glanced back at him, her smile wide and genuine. “It’s like stepping into a dream.”

Moments later, they were stepping onto the island, their shoes crunching on the pebbled shore. The village near the harbor was a riot of color, its narrow streets lined with pastel houses adorned with overflowing flower boxes. Local vendors called out in melodic Greek, their stalls bursting with ripe fruit, olives, and honeyed pastries. The air was thick with the mingling scents of sea salt and roasted chestnuts.

The day unfolded in a series of simple but perfect pleasures. They shared flaky spanakopita from a street vendor, sipped sweet wine from a sunlit terrace, and lingered by the square, listening to the lilting strains of a lute player. But it was the secluded beach they discovered later that truly stole Kate’s heart. Tucked away from the bustling village, the shore was a crescent of soft sand bordered by turquoise waves and a grove of olive trees.

Kate hesitated at the water’s edge, her toes curling into the sand as the gentle waves lapped at her feet. “Oh, it’s cold,” she protested, laughing as Anthony shed his boots and waded in without hesitation.

“You’ll warm up,” he promised, his grin wicked as he turned back toward her.

She shook her head, but before she could protest further, Anthony strode toward her with purpose, sweeping her into his arms with a playful growl.

“Anthony!” she shrieked, clutching at his shoulders as he carried her into the water.

The chill of the sea shocked her at first, but as Anthony dipped lower, the sensation turned exhilarating. Her laughter rang out, mingling with his as she splashed him in retaliation. They chased each other through the shallows, the weight of their damp clothes forgotten as they frolicked like carefree children. Kate marveled at the sheer joy of it all—the freedom, the intimacy, the shared adventure.

When they finally collapsed onto the sand, dripping and breathless, Anthony leaned over her, his hair damp and curling at his temples. For a moment, he simply gazed at her, his expression soft and full of wonder.

“You are radiant,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek.

Kate’s breath hitched as she smiled up at him. “You’re only saying that because I’m soaked and completely at your mercy.”

He laughed, low and deep, before leaning in to kiss her. The kiss started tender, but it quickly grew deeper, more urgent. Kate closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the sensation—the warmth of his lips, the roughness of his stubble, and the way his hands moved with both reverence and longing.

Later that evening, after a simple meal from a late-night market stall, they found a spot near the edge of a cliff overlooking the vast ocean. The moon cast a silver glow over the waves, and Kate leaned into Anthony, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Today was wonderful,” she murmured, her voice soft with contentment.

“It was,” Anthony agreed, his hand tracing lazy circles on her back.

As the night deepened, they returned to their lodgings nearby, their steps unhurried and their hearts light.

Back in their room, Kate unpinned her hair and slipped out of her dress, the fabric still faintly damp from the sea. She caught Anthony’s gaze in the mirror and arched a brow. “Enjoying the view?”

Anthony crossed the room, taking her hand and pulling her gently toward him. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Kate laughed lightly. “You’ve said that already.”

“Not nearly enough,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smile. He kissed her then, his touch unhurried and tender, as though savoring the quiet joy of the day. The warmth of their connection filled the room, the echo of the sea and the stars still lingering between them.

Chapter Text

Kate was feeling particularly attracted to Anthony. She always was, of course, but that day on the warm beach she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. They had a small stretch of Grecian coastline alone to themselves, and they were lounging on a blanket nearly naked after having been splashing each other in the water. Anthony’s skin had become bronze over the last few days and she had never seen him look more relaxed.

“Anthony,” she said.

He opened one eye and turned his head just enough to look at her. “Yes?”

“Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

He grinned and rolled over onto his side. “No. Never.”

She laughed. “That’s not true.”

He shrugged. “Tell me again.”

“You are very handsome, Anthony,” she said, kissing him. She looked towards their guest house. “Shall we go back inside?”

Anthony looked around and then rolled on top of her. “No, I think right here is fine.”

Later, in the warm twilight of their guest house, a wicked desire had begun to simmer just beneath Kate’s skin. She slipped into a tiny silk negligee, dabbed her lily perfume on her wrists, and let the sinful thought bloom into action. With a silk ribbon tucked into the pocket of her robe, she approached the bedroom where Anthony waited.

Anthony grinned at her. “How is it you always manage to look more beautiful than I remember? Truly.”

She smiled at him. He was already sitting in the armchair where she wanted him. “Can we try something tonight?”

His brow lifted. “What did you have in mind?”

He made to stand, but she placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back down. A delighted chuckle escaped him, and his eyes darkened with intrigue.

“Hands,” she commanded, revealing the ribbon from her robe. His grin widened as he held his arms behind the chair, surrendering without hesitation.

She tied his wrists with deliberate care, testing the knot to ensure it was snug but not too tight. The silk slid over his skin, and his breath hitched at the sensation.

When she dropped her robe to the floor, his sharp inhale sent a thrill through her. His cock twitched beneath the thin fabric of his trousers as she knelt in front of him.

Her fingers worked deftly, freeing him from the constraints of his clothing. He was already hard, and the sight of his arousal filled her with satisfaction. Slowly, deliberately, she ran her tongue along the length of him, teasing him with featherlight touches.

Anthony groaned, his hips bucking forward. “Kate,” he gasped, voice low and desperate. “This is torture.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Torture?” she echoed, dragging her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip with maddening slowness. “Is that what this feels like?”

“Yes,” he rasped, a strained laugh escaping him. “I’d give you anything right now. Anything.”

Kate’s smile turned wicked. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

He groaned at the idea of her doing this to him again, then laughed at himself. He closed his eyes, leaning against the back of the chair while Kate continued her tireless teasing. She took him deeper into her mouth, her tongue swirling as she savored every reaction. He felt himself slip inside her slick, warm throat and he jerked forward, his eyes opening wide to watch her take him all in.

His breathing grew ragged, and he strained against the ribbon binding his wrists, desperate to touch her.

“Kate,” he warned, his voice tight with need. “I’m going to—”

He closed his eyes, waiting to feel the silk of her mouth again and release himself, but she stopped, pulling away with a playful glint in her eye.

His chest heaved as he watched her rise to her feet, slipping off her negligee with a languid grace. His cock twitched again, and she reveled in the raw desire etched across his face.

“Kate,” he whispered, his voice a plea. She climbed onto his lap, slowly sinking down onto him. His groan was guttural, and she smiled at the way his head fell back, eyes squeezed shut in blissful agony.

She moved deliberately, keeping her pace agonizingly slow. His hands flexed against the ribbon, muscles tensing as he fought the urge to break free.

“Untie me,” he begged, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Please. I need to touch you.”

But she only shook her head, her own breath growing shallow as she found her rhythm. Her fingers slipped between her thighs, and she touched herself, watching as Anthony’s jaw tightened in frustration.

“Untie me,” his voice both a demand and a whine.

“Kate,” he groaned, struggling against the restraints. His need for her—his hunger—was a palpable thing, and it pushed her closer to the edge.

The chair creaked beneath them as he fought to free himself, the sound mingling with the sharp, desperate gasps that filled the room. Kate’s head fell back, her moans growing louder as she rode the wave of pleasure building within her.

And then, with a sudden burst of strength, Anthony tore the ribbon apart. In a blur of movement, he had her on her back on the floor, pinning her beneath him. Kate cried out as he thrust into her, his hands rough and demanding on her breasts, his lips trailing fire along her neck.

“You drive me mad,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

Her nails raked down his back as they moved together, the intensity of their passion leaving them both breathless. When release finally overtook them, it was violent and overwhelming.

They collapsed onto the floor in a tangled heap, chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Eventually Kate reached over and picked up his wrist by the torn ribbon.

Anthony laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice still rough with exertion. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Kate grinned, her heart still racing. “That was perfect.”

Chapter Text

The sun hung high in the Athenian sky, bathing the Acropolis in a golden glow that seemed to come straight from the age of the gods. The marble path beneath Kate and Anthony’s feet was warm to the touch, worn smooth by centuries of pilgrims, scholars, and wanderers. Ahead, the Parthenon rose in dignified splendor, its weathered columns standing resolute against the passing of time.

Kate paused to take in the sight, her eyes wide with awe. “It’s breathtaking,” she said, her voice soft but reverent.

“As are you,” Anthony teased, leaning closer.

She laughed and nudged his shoulder, shaking her head as they began to climb the final stretch of the path. The air was filled with the faint hum of cicadas and the occasional murmur of fellow visitors. Kate’s gaze darted from the towering columns to the intricate carvings still visible along the friezes.

“They built this without any modern tools, and yet it’s still standing after thousands of years,” she marveled. “The symmetry alone is astounding. The architects used subtle curves to correct optical illusions, did you know that?”

Anthony blinked, his grin widening. “I didn’t. First Rome, now Athens… Should I be worried you’ve been hiding your brilliance from me, Lady Bridgerton?”

Kate shrugged, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You never asked.”

As they approached the Erechtheion, Kate’s steps quickened, her attention drawn to the porch of the Caryatids. The graceful stone maidens stood sentinel, their robes appearing soft and flowing despite the solidity of the marble.

“The Caryatids,” she said, her voice tinged with wonder. “I used to read about them as a girl. Did you know they’re said to represent the women of Caryae? Legend has it they were punished for their betrayal during the Greco-Persian Wars.”

Anthony crossed his arms, his expression impressed. “And here I thought I’d be dazzling you with my knowledge of Greek history.”

Kate smiled, her fingers brushing lightly over the stone. “My father had a love for Ancient Greece. He is the one who taught me to read Greek. When I was a little girl, we’d sit under the mango trees, translating passages from the Iliad and the Odyssey. He would explain the stories—Helen’s beauty, Achilles’ pride, Odysseus’ cleverness—and then he’d ask me what I thought about them. It made me feel so… grown-up.”

Her voice softened, her gaze distant. “He used to talk about visiting Athens someday.”

Anthony reached for her hand, his fingers threading through hers. They stood together for a long moment, the sun casting their shadows against the ancient stone.

Kate’s eyes shimmered as she smiled at him. “Thank you for bringing me here, Anthony. ”

The sun slipped below the horizon as they returned to their modest inn, the city bathed in hues of amber and rose. From the terrace, the Acropolis stood silhouetted against the twilight sky, its golden glow a quiet echo of the day’s splendor.

Kate leaned against the railing, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her gaze fixed on the ancient structure. Anthony joined her, slipping an arm around her waist. She leaned into him, sighing contentedly.

“This trip has been such a dream,” she said softly. “I can’t tell you what it means to me to finally have seen the place my father was so excited by.”

Anthony kissed the top of her head, his voice quiet. “I think he’d be happy to know you carried his love for it with you all this way.”

They stood in silence for a while, watching the stars emerge one by one. Finally, Kate spoke again, her voice hesitant. “Do you ever think about… how different you might have been if your father had lived?”

Anthony’s arm tightened around her. “All the time,” he admitted. “I wonder if I’d still have been so… driven. If I’d have grown up so quickly.”

Kate nodded, her fingers tracing patterns on the railing. “I was eighteen when my father died. Just a girl, really. Suddenly, I had to be the adult—to keep our family afloat. I hated it, but… it shaped me.”

Anthony turned her to face him, his expression earnest. “It shaped you into someone extraordinary.”

Kate’s eyes glistened as she smiled up at him. “You say that now, but there were so many times I wished I could have just been a carefree girl.”

“I understand that,” Anthony said, his voice heavy with memory. “When my father died, I suddenly became a viscount.” His voice cracked, and he laughed bitterly. “I was the same age as you. It was so much responsibility so young. And my mother…” he trailed off, his eyes distant, before shaking his head. “My family needed me, and I had to step up. But I do wonder… if he’d lived, would I be softer? Less guarded?”

Kate reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek. “I love you exactly as you are, Anthony. And I think our fathers would be proud of us—for surviving, for loving as fiercely as we do.”

He kissed her then, a deep, lingering kiss that spoke of gratitude and devotion. They held each other tightly, the pain they both understood deeply hanging between them. They stayed on the terrace long into the night, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the Acropolis watched over them.

Chapter Text

The cabin rocked gently with the motion of the ship, the sound of the waves lapping against the hull a constant backdrop. Kate sat perched on the edge of the small writing desk, idly tracing the embroidery of her shawl as Anthony leaned against the bedframe, an exasperated look on his face.

“They’re unbearable,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Kate smirked, barely concealing her laughter. “Anthony, they’re perfectly nice.”

“They’re not nice,” he shot back, his tone incredulous. “They’re insufferable. Did you hear him go on about his ‘unparalleled expertise in maritime travel’? The man has likely never held an oar in his life.”

Kate laughed outright at that, the sound warm and musical. “And his wife’s unsolicited advice about my hair was certainly a highlight,” she added. “Apparently, I’m ‘wasting its potential.’”

Anthony groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I cannot endure another meal with them.”

Kate tilted her head, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “So don’t.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed as he straightened, crossing the room to stand before her. “What are you suggesting, Lady Bridgerton?”

Her smile widened as she leaned back, her fingers trailing up the front of his waistcoat. “I’m suggesting we take the next few days to ourselves. Stay in here, away from maritime expertise and wasted potential.”

Anthony’s brow arched, his expression darkening with intrigue. “And what, pray, would we do with all that time alone?”

Kate leaned in, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

By the second day of their self-imposed isolation, the world outside their cabin felt like a distant memory. The gentle rocking of the ship and the muffled sounds of footsteps on the deck above faded into the background as Kate and Anthony immersed themselves in each other.

The cabin was dimly lit by the lantern swaying gently with the ship’s motion. Anthony stood near the small bed, holding the silk scarf he had bought for Kate in Milan. His dark eyes gleamed with intent as he let the soft fabric glide between his fingers.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice low and rich, sending a shiver down her spine.

Kate, seated on the edge of the bed, met his gaze without hesitation. “Always.”

That was all the permission he needed. He stepped closer, wrapping the scarf around her wrists and tying it with deliberate care. He lifted her bound hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before lowering them to her lap.

“You’re stunning like this,” he murmured, his voice rough with affection and desire.

Kate’s cheeks flushed, her body already responding to the sensuality of his tone and the featherlight constraint of the scarf. “You say that as if you don’t tell me every chance you get.”

Anthony smirked, his hands trailing down her arms to rest on her hips. “Perhaps I should say it more often. Especially when you look at me like that.”

Her breath hitched as he pushed her gently back onto the bed, his hands sliding up to part her thighs. Kate’s hands strained against the silk binding as Anthony’s lips trailed down her neck, his mouth exploring the soft curves of her body with deliberate care.

“You know,” he murmured against her skin, “I think you like being tied up far more than you’re willing to admit.”

Kate whimpered, her body arching toward him. “I think you like tying me up far more than you’re willing to admit,” she shot back breathlessly.

Anthony chuckled, his hands slipping lower, teasing her until she was gasping and writhing beneath him. “You’re not wrong,” he said, his voice like a purr. “But it’s only because I adore seeing you like this. Completely mine.”

Anthony’s words sent a delicious shiver through Kate, her bound hands twisting slightly in the silk as her lips parted on a shaky exhale. His possessiveness didn’t feel like a cage—it felt like a sanctuary, a space where she could be entirely herself.

“I’m always yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling but steady. “Tied up or not.”

Anthony’s dark gaze softened briefly, affection flickering in his expression even as the heat between them surged. He leaned in, brushing his lips over hers in a kiss that started slow but deepened, stealing her breath and any lingering coherent thought.

“You undo me, Kate,” he murmured against her mouth. “Every single time.”

She smiled, tilting her head slightly to nip at his lower lip, earning a low growl from him. “Then stop holding back,” she challenged, her voice husky. “I don’t want patience right now.”

Anthony didn’t need further encouragement. His hands traced every inch of her, stoking the fire between them until Kate’s soft moans and gasps filled the cabin. The scarf around her wrists felt more like an anchor than a restraint, grounding her as Anthony worshipped her with a reverence that left her trembling.

When he finally gave her what she craved, Kate’s body arched beneath him as waves of pleasure swept over her. Anthony followed soon after, his body pressing against hers as he moaned her name.

For a long moment, the only sounds were their mingled breathing and the gentle creak of the ship. Anthony reached up, his fingers deftly undoing the knot of the scarf. He brought her wrists to his lips, pressing tender kisses to the marks left by the silk.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes filled with warmth.

Kate smirked, her body still languid and buzzing with aftershocks. “Incredible, Anthony. You always make me feel incredible.”

Anthony laughed softly, pulling her close so that her head rested against his chest. “Good.”

Kate hummed, her lips brushing his collarbone. “Very good,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but playful.

Anthony grinned, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back as the ship swayed gently beneath them. “I love you, Kate.”

They drifted into a soft slumber, the soft pattering of rain against the porthole window.

By the time the storm clouds that had loomed on the horizon began to break, Anthony and Kate emerged from their cabin, flushed and content, hand in hand. The annoying couple, mercifully, were nowhere in sight.

As they stood together on the deck, the salty breeze tangling in Kate’s hair, she glanced at Anthony, her lips curling into a soft smile. “I have to admit,” she said, “there’s something liberating about being stuck on a ship with nothing to do but… well, you.”

Anthony laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Remind me to send that couple a thank-you note for driving us to solitude.”

Kate laughed, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the endless expanse of blue stretch before them, the promise of new adventures waiting just beyond the horizon.

Chapter Text

The shores of Cyprus were just as enchanting at night as they were under the bright sun. The ocean shimmered beneath the last streaks of twilight, and Kate paused to take it all in. Beside her, Anthony’s arms circled her waist, drawing her into his warmth.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she sighed, leaning against him.

He kissed the top of her head. They stood in silence for a moment, the soft sound of waves brushing against the shore.

“What are you thinking?” Anthony murmured, resting his chin on her hair.

Kate tried to suppress a laugh, and Anthony stiffened, dropping his arms and stepping back.

“Don’t say Newton,” he groaned. “Kate, if you tell me you’re thinking about that bloody dog again, I swear—”

She burst out laughing. “No, no, I was not–” she tried to come up with a lie but couldn’t find one quick enough.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “Plan a romantic getaway, six whole months of travel... and she’s thinking about the dog.”

Kate couldn’t stop giggling as she reached for him. “If the roles were reversed, and you were the one I was away from, I would only be thinking of you.” She tapped his nose playfully, and his annoyed expression softened.

Anthony tried to huff, but his cheeks flushed. “I should hope so.”

“Alright then,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. “Let’s hurry back and see if we’ve received an update from Hyacinth while we were at dinner.” She smirked as he groaned.

When they returned to their bedroom, Anthony shut the door behind them with a sly smile.

“What’s that look for?” Kate asked.

“Undress,” he said, stepping closer. “And lie down.”

A shiver of anticipation ran through her. As she lay on the bed, Anthony pulled a few silk ribbons from behind his back.

“Hands,” he instructed softly.

Kate’s breath hitched, and she held out one arm. He tied her wrist gently to the bedpost, moving to the other side to do the same. “Comfortable?”

She tested the knots and nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was low and deliberate, sending heat through her. “Now, spread your legs for me.”

She hesitated for only a second, caught off guard by his boldness, before doing as he asked. Anthony knelt at the foot of the bed, binding one ankle, then the other, making sure each knot was secure but not too tight. His hands lingered on her skin, brushing up her calves and thighs.

“Is this alright?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said, breathless.

Seeing her tied up for him made his brain cease functioning as all the blood in his body made its way to his cock. He stared at her for a moment, drinking her in, and for a second, she thought he might forget what to do next.

“You’re not just going to leave me like this, are you?” she teased, her voice husky.

He laughed, snapping out of his reverie, and pulled his trousers down. “Of course not.”

Anthony leaned down to kiss her, his mouth trailing from her lips to her neck, teasing her breasts with gentle bites and flicks of his tongue. Kate arched beneath him, every touch a spark. His hand drifted between her thighs, brushing everywhere but where she craved him most.

“Anthony,” she groaned, shifting her hips against his hand.

He chuckled, withdrawing just enough to drive her mad. “The more you struggle, the longer I’ll make you wait.”

Her breath hitched as he resumed his slow, deliberate touches, circling around her most sensitive spot without quite giving her what she needed.

“Please,” she whispered, trembling under his control.

He smirked. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“Anthony,” Kate whimpered, half-laughing, half-frustrated. “Please. This is–”

“Torture?” He laughed as she whined and threw her head back against the pillow. He lowered himself between her legs so that he could taste her. She was dripping with her desire and Anthony moaned as he dragged his tongue up her center, stopping just short of her bud again.

“Krpaya,” she muttered, slipping into Hindi.

Anthony stilled, his smile widening in amusement. “What was that?”

He stared at her, her forehead beading with sweat and her cheeks flushed red. He loved when she looked like this. He briefly wondered if it would be possible to have a painting of her like this.

Kate’s cheeks burned. “Please,” she repeated breathlessly. She pulled helplessly at her tied arms and legs.

“In what language?”

“Anthony, you must touch me.” Her voice was rough with desire.

He smirked, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs. “I am touching you,” he said.

“Anthon-eee,” she whined. He laughed, warm and low, before dropping back down between her legs and continuing to tease her. She desperately tried to push herself into his mouth, thrusting her hips up and down as he carefully ran his tongue along every part of her except her bud.

Just as she thought she would explode from the tension, he pushed his mouth into her and sucked at her. Kate cried out, arching beneath him as waves of pleasure rolled through her.

Anthony moved up her body, positioning himself between her legs. She frowned when she felt him draw away from her and opened her eyes to complain, but when she realized he was about to thrust himself inside her, she eagerly tried to lift her hips up as best she could with her ties in place.

“You little minx,” he said, grinning.

“Anthony. Now,” she demanded, her voice rough with need.

He thrust into her, slow at first, groaning at the way her body tightened around him. Kate gasped, her head falling back against the pillow as he began to move, each motion measured and deliberate.

When he slowed, teasing her again, she groaned in frustration. “Anthony, please—”

He pressed his hand over her mouth, silencing her as he quickened his pace. Kate moaned against his palm, her body straining towards release. He watched her, mesmerized by the way pleasure and pain blurred on her face, driving him closer to the edge. Every time before when he had pulled away to ask if he was hurting her, she shook her head, telling him to continue. He didn’t pull himself away this time, sinking himself into her as she arched her back.

He felt himself getting close when Kate opened her eyes and said, “No, wait.” She moaned. “I don’t– I’m–” Then she cried out in a way he had never heard before, and he was sure this time he had finally done it; he had finally hurt her the way he feared. But he could not stop himself from giving into his own release, gasping as he followed her over the brink.

He pulled out of her as soon as he regained his senses, ashamed of what he had done while she was certainly in pain. He began untying her quickly, breathing hard as he murmured apologies and reassurances that he would never do it again. But Kate only laughed, her breath still ragged.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked anxiously, brushing her hair from her face.

She shook her head, still catching her breath. “No... Good,” she whispered, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Relieved, Anthony lay beside her, pulling her into his arms. “You scared me,” he admitted softly.

Kate pressed a kiss to his chest, already drifting off, her body sated and weary. “Love you,” she murmured.

Anthony kissed her forehead, wrapping himself around her as sleep claimed them both.

Chapter Text

The cabin was small but cozy, the golden light of the oil lamp swaying gently with the rocking of the ship. Beyond the porthole, the Mediterranean stretched endlessly, its surface calm and glittering under the moonlight.

Kate sat cross-legged on the narrow bed, the book perched in her lap. She had read it countless times now, but it still sent shivers through her, the vivid descriptions leaving her breathless. Tonight, she’d lingered over a particular passage—a scene involving a daring couple and an unexpected third participant. The fantasy of it left her cheeks flushed and her heart racing.

Her gaze drifted to Anthony, who sat at the small desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scribbled in his travel journal. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms, and his hair was slightly mussed from the day. He looked so focused, so handsome, that Kate couldn’t resist.

She closed the book and slipped off the bed, padding silently toward him. Her arms slid around his shoulders, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Anthony,” she murmured, her voice low and inviting.

He turned his head, his brows lifting in curiosity. “Yes, my love?”

“Come to bed,” she whispered, her lips trailing down to his jaw.

Anthony smirked, his pen pausing mid-word. “Again? Haven’t we already exhausted ourselves today?”

Kate laughed softly, her breath warm against his skin. “Not even close.”

He set down his pen with exaggerated resignation, turning his chair to face her. “Well, when my wife insists…”

Anthony rose and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the bed as she laughed quietly against his neck. Their laughter soon turned to gasps and sighs, the book forgotten as they lost themselves in each other.

Later, as they lay tangled together in the rumpled sheets, Anthony pressed a lazy kiss to her bare shoulder. “Should I thank the book for your…sudden enthusiasm?” he teased, his voice warm with amusement.

Kate’s cheeks flushed, and she hid her face against his chest. “Perhaps.”

Anthony chuckled, his fingers brushing through her hair. “Which part was it this time?”

Her silence stretched for a moment too long, and he tilted her chin up, his dark eyes narrowing playfully. “Come on, Kate. Which one?”

She hesitated, her lips curving into a small, guilty smile. “The, uh… the one with three people.”

Anthony froze, his playful smirk slipping as his expression turned to one of alarm. “Three people?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, her tone light and a little embarrassed. “It’s just… exciting to read about, that’s all.”

He blinked at her, clearly grappling with his next words. Finally, he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kate, are you… is that something you’re interested in?”

Kate stared at him, her brow furrowing. “What? No!”

“You’re sure?” he pressed, his tone hesitant. “Because if it’s something you… wanted to try, I—I suppose—”

Kate’s laughter cut him off, soft but incredulous. “Anthony Bridgerton, stop right there. I said it’s exciting to read about.” She shook her head emphatically. “I don’t actually want to share you with anyone.”

Relief flooded his face, and he exhaled deeply, falling back against the pillows. “Thank God,” he muttered. “The thought of sharing you with anyone makes my blood boil, Kate. I don’t think I could handle it.“

Her laughter grew as she shifted to lean over him, her hair spilling across his chest. “It sounded as if you were just about to agree to it,” she giggled, tapping the tip of his nose.

He avoided her gaze, his cheeks flushed. “If it’s something that you really wanted…I would have thought about it, at least.”

She grinned, waiting until he made eye contact with her. “That is incredibly sweet. But rest assured, my love, you are the only one I want.”

Anthony’s hand slipped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “And you are the only one I’ll ever want,” he said softly, his voice rich with sincerity. “The very idea of anyone else touching you makes me feel…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“Possessive?” Kate teased gently, though her eyes shone with affection.

“Fiercely,” he admitted, his gaze darkening. “But not in a way that would ever trap you. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the words. “You’re my heart, Kate. I couldn’t bear to share even a part of you with anyone else.”

Her teasing smile softened into something warmer, deeper. “Anthony,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his. “I feel the same way. The idea of anyone else…” She shook her head. “It’s unthinkable.”

They kissed again, this time slower, their connection deep and steady. When they finally pulled apart, Kate settled into his arms, her head resting on his chest. They lay together as the Mediterranean whispered outside, their love a steady anchor against the endless sea and sky.

Chapter Text

Kate and Anthony were in Egypt, their travels unfolding in a dreamlike sequence of new experiences. Kate savored each destination, but her favorite memory so far was Anthony on the Grecian beach—the impossibly blue water and white sand and Anthony’s tan, toned body, and him calling to her to leave her clothes at the shore and join him, buck naked, in the warm ocean.

“Kate?”

She blinked, pulled from her reverie as Anthony approached.

“A letter from Edwina for you,” he said, handing her a still sealed piece of parchment. He waved another in front of him. “And one for both of us from Colin.”

“Colin?” Kate asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he said. “In fact, he has asked to meet with us when our travels have us crossing paths in Tunis next month.”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Kate grinned. “How sweet of him to reach out.”

Anthony grumbled. “Rude to interrupt our honeymoon, more like it.” He grinned when Kate eyed him. “Teasing, of course. How is Edwina?”

Kate opened the letter and smiled at her sister’s familiar script. “She and Friedrich are having a wonderful time in Prussia,” she said as she read the letter. “They are leaving for their honeymoon in March.” She glanced up. “You wrote to Friedrich about us visiting, yes?”

He nodded. “Yes. If they’re not leaving until March we should be able to arrange something.”

Kate smiled and continued reading. Edwina’s note made her laugh aloud, and Anthony raised a brow.

“What’s so amusing?”

Edwina had written that it was exceptionally kind of Kate to allow everyone to stay at Aubrey Hall as long as they did after Kate and Anthony’s wedding. She wrote she only wished to be alone with Friedrich and almost regretted bringing Mary with them.

“She is just enjoying life as a newlywed.” She smiled at Anthony. It was quite nice to be alone with him. She thought back to that day on the beach in Greece. “Anthony?”

“Yes?”

“Shall we go to our room?”

He grinned and reached out his hand to her, happy to comply.

As they lay entwined after, Kate traced lazy circles on Anthony’s chest. “This trip has been so incredible, Anthony.”

“You know,” Anthony began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’m not usually one for travel.”

Kate tilted her head to look up at him, surprised. “Really? You seem to be enjoying it.”

“Oh, I am,” he assured her quickly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “But… this isn’t typical for me. I’ve always preferred to stay close to home.”

Kate’s brow furrowed. “Even before we married?”

He nodded, his hand absently stroking her arm. “Even then. My bachelor lodgings were close enough to Bridgerton house that I still kept my study there. I was there more often than not.”

Kate propped herself up on one elbow, her dark eyes twinkling. “Wait a moment—you didn’t actually live there? I just assumed you did.”

Anthony chuckled, his cheeks tinging faintly with embarrassment. “No, I had my own place. I just… didn’t use it much.”

She smirked, a teasing edge to her voice. “Ah, so you needed the privacy for your mistresses, then?”

Anthony froze, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for a response. “I—Kate—” he stammered, his ears turning red.

Kate burst into laughter, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, Anthony, I’m teasing you!” she said, her voice warm and affectionate.

He groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

She grinned, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “You did. But really, you don’t have to be so embarrassed. Your past doesn’t bother me.”

Anthony lowered his hand, his expression softening. “It doesn’t?”

She shook her head, her fingers brushing lightly against his jaw. “Not at all. We all have pasts, Anthony. Yours only brought you to where you are now—with me.”

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin. “It’s different with you, Kate. It always has been.”

“How so?” she asked, her voice curious.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice quiet but steady. “Because I never really loved any of them.” He swallowed hard, his gaze searching hers.

Kate tilted her head, her teasing smile softening. “Never? Not even a little?”

Anthony sighed, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. “I thought I was in love once. But looking back… I realize I was too much of a coward to love her truly. To love anyone truly.”

Her brow furrowed, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “A coward?”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to where their hands were entwined. “I thought I was… protecting myself, keeping things simple. I was terrified of losing someone I loved. I didn’t think I could survive it. So I convinced myself I didn’t need it. That love was a burden I couldn’t afford to carry.”

Kate’s throat tightened, her fingers squeezing his. “And now?”

Anthony’s eyes lifted to hers, the intensity in his gaze stealing her breath. “And now I know I was wrong. Love isn’t a burden, Kate. It’s what makes us brave. You make me brave.”

Her lips parted, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “Anthony…”

He leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers. “I was almost too much of a coward to love you. But you made me want to be the kind of man who deserves you.”

A tear slipped down Kate’s cheek, and she smiled through it, her voice trembling. “You’ve made me brave too. Loving you… it’s the most daring thing I’ve ever done.”

Anthony kissed her then, slow and deep, as if sealing the truth of their words. They stayed like that, holding each other as the night stretched on.

Chapter Text

The market was alive with color and sound, a maze of vibrant stalls that seemed to spill over with their wares. Kate’s senses were overwhelmed—in the best way. The tang of spices hung in the air, mingling with the sweet, earthy aroma of freshly baked bread and the faint saltiness of the sea breeze. Vendors called out in French, Arabic, and Berber, each voice weaving into the lively symphony of the bustling market.

Anthony walked beside her, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, ever the protector even in this safe and cheerful crowd. Kate paused suddenly, her eyes lighting up as she spotted a stall draped with bolts of fabric in intricate block-printed designs.

“Oh, Anthony,” she murmured, stepping closer to the display. Her fingers brushed over the cloth reverently, tracing the geometric patterns and floral motifs. “I haven’t seen fabrics like this since I left India.”

Anthony followed her gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. “They’re beautiful,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “Were these common where you grew up?”

“Not common, exactly,” Kate replied, a soft smile curving her lips. “But familiar. These patterns… they remind me of the sarees I used to wear,” She hesitated, her voice turning wistful. “In India, the colors and patterns of your clothing could tell so much about you—your region, your caste, even your mood.”

Anthony watched her intently, his heart tightening at the note of longing in her voice. “It must have been strange, trading all of that for the stiff, pale gowns of London,” he said gently.

Kate chuckled softly, though her expression was tinged with melancholy. “It was. At first, it felt like wearing a costume.” She glanced down at her gloved hands, her voice quieter now. “Sometimes, I still feel like I’m pretending.”

Anthony stepped closer, his hand finding hers. “Why haven’t you incorporated more of India into your life? Your wardrobe?”

Kate hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. “I suppose I was afraid of standing out too much. Of drawing attention for the wrong reasons.”

Anthony’s gaze darkened, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “You already do stand out. Your beauty is radiant.” He gestured towards the fabrics. “Pick some out. I’m sure the modiste back home will be able to make something beautiful that actually suits your tastes.”

Kate blushed under Anthony's steady gaze, her fingers brushing against his as she held the fabric. She glanced back at the vendor, who was watching them with a kind smile. "I think I'll take a length of this one," she said, motioning to a rich red cloth adorned with golden block-printed designs.

Anthony was already reaching for his coin pouch. The vendor wrapped the fabric carefully, tying it with a simple string, and handed it to Kate. She clutched the package to her chest, her smile soft. "Thank you," she murmured.

That evening, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Kate sat cross-legged next to Anthony on the blanket they’d spread on the beach, the sand beneath them still warm from the afternoon sun. The wrapped fabric rested beside her, and she unfolded it, her hands smoothing over the vibrant patterns.

“In India,” she began, her voice thoughtful, “clothes felt different. A saree would drape over your chest, but it would leave your stomach bare. Even when more of your skin was exposed, they felt… modest.” She paused, glancing at Anthony. “It didn’t feel like it was meant to invite attention.”

Anthony frowned, considering this. “But in England, the gowns…” His voice trailed off as realization dawned.

Kate smiled knowingly. “They’re designed to highlight the chest, aren’t they?”

He leaned back on his hands, his brow furrowed. “I suppose I’ve never thought about it like that.”

Kate picked up the fabric they’d bought at the market and stood, draping it over her shoulder. She arranged it loosely, letting it cascade across her chest and down her side. “Look,” she said softly. “In a saree, the fabric would cover my chest like this, but it would fall loosely—natural, not stiff or structured. And yet, it feels less… revealing.”

Anthony’s gaze was steady, his expression contemplative. “It’s lovely,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “And you’re right. It looks…softer. Like it’s part of you.”

Kate chuckled, stepping closer. “Whereas English gowns—” She gestured at her bodice. “They’re tight, rigid, and they push everything up as though to say, ‘Look here.’”

Anthony’s ears turned pink, and he laughed despite himself. “I suppose they do.”

Kate smirked, folding the fabric back over her arm. “Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy the gowns in their own way. But sometimes I miss how clothing could feel like a second skin. Like home.”

Anthony reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Then bring that feeling with you. Back to London. Wherever we are. You don’t have to leave parts of yourself behind, Kate. Not for me, and not for anyone.”

Her eyes softened, her heart swelling with gratitude. “You mean that?”

“I do,” he said firmly. “If wearing sarees or fabrics like this reminds you of home, then let’s make that part of your life again. I’ll have a whole new wardrobe made for you, if you’d like.”

Kate laughed softly, her fingers tightening around his. “That’s incredibly sweet and not at all necessary. But thank you, Anthony.”

He smiled, tugging her gently down to sit beside him. The stars above were beginning to twinkle, the rhythmic waves lapping softly at the shore. Together, they talked late into the night, their conversation drifting between memories of home and dreams of the future.

Chapter Text

The ship rocked gently as it sailed through calm waters, the cabin illuminated by the golden glow of a lantern. Anthony sat at the small desk, his head bent over a piece of parchment, quill in hand. The soft scratching of his pen filled the room, a soothing rhythm against the backdrop of the sea.

The door creaked open, and Kate stepped in, her cheeks flushed with warmth from the sun and the sea breeze. Her smile was radiant, though her eyes carried a quiet wistfulness.

“Anthony,” she said, her tone bright but soft.

He looked up immediately, his expression lighting at the sight of her. “What’s put that smile on your face?”

“I just met the most wonderful woman,” she said, crossing the cabin to sit on the edge of the bed. “She’s from India—Ahmedabad, I think she said. We talked for a little while.”

Anthony set his pen down, his attention fully on her. “That must have been nice. What did you talk about?”

“Her jewelry,” Kate said, her fingers brushing absently over her wrist. “She wore these stunning bangles and delicate gold anklets with tiny charms. It reminded me so much of home. Of my mother.”

Her voice faltered slightly, and the smile she’d brought into the room dimmed. Anthony moved to sit beside her, his hand resting on her knee. “You miss her,” he said gently.

Kate nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I do. Especially when I see things that remind me of her. I remember how she always wore her jewelry—her bangles, her anklets, her toe rings. They were simple, but beautiful. I can still hear the sound of her anklets when she walked.”

Anthony’s hand tightened slightly on her knee, his silent encouragement for her to continue.

“Her bangles,” Kate said, her voice quieter now. “They’re all I have of hers. I wore them on our wedding day. But they’re back at Aubrey Hall now.” She paused, her brow furrowing. “Sometimes, when I miss her, I hold them. It’s silly, isn’t it? I barely remember her, and yet…”

Anthony shook his head, his voice firm but tender. “It’s not silly, Kate. Not at all. Grief doesn’t have rules. Missing her, even if your memories of her are faint, doesn’t make it any less real.”

Kate looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “I feel like I shouldn’t be this sad. She died when I was so young. I shouldn’t still feel this way, should I?”

Anthony’s expression softened further, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You should feel however you feel. Losing a parent leaves a mark, no matter how old you are. I still think about my father every day. Some days it’s easier, but on others…” He trailed off, his voice growing thick. “On others, it feels just as raw as the day we lost him.”

Kate shifted closer to him, her hand finding his. “You’ve never talked about it like that before.”

He sighed, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “It’s not easy to talk about. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him, or that the ache ever really goes away.”

Kate leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think that’s what frightens me. That it never goes away.”

Anthony pressed a kiss to her hair, his other arm wrapping around her waist. “It doesn’t, not completely. But it changes. It becomes part of who you are, part of how you love. I think, in a way, it makes us hold on tighter to the people we still have.”

They sat in silence for a while, the ship’s gentle rocking a quiet backdrop to their shared grief. Finally, Anthony guided them to lie down so he could hold her in his arms.
Kate rested her head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?”

“For letting me feel this. For understanding.”

Anthony pressed another kiss to her hair, his voice a quiet vow. “Always, Kate. I’ll always hold you, in every way you need.”

Chapter Text

The market in Tripoli was a flurry of sights, sounds, and scents. Brightly colored fabrics fluttered in the breeze, the air thick with the aroma of spices and roasting meats. Kate moved slowly, her fingers brushing over bolts of silk and cotton adorned with intricate patterns.

Anthony walked beside her, his watchful eyes scanning the lively market. He was quiet for the most part, content to let her immerse herself in the vibrant energy of the place.

Kate lingered at a fabric stall, her eyes lighting up at the rich colors and delicate embroidery. She picked up a bolt of deep green cloth shot through with golden threads, her fingers running over the soft material.

“Kate,” Anthony’s voice was gentle, drawing her attention away from the fabric.

“Yes?” she asked, turning to him with a smile.

He gestured toward a jewelry stall across the way, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Look over there.”

Kate’s gaze followed his, and her breath hitched. The stall was covered in jewelry—bangles, anklets, necklaces, and toe rings—all in the unmistakable style of Indian craftsmanship. The vendor, a kind-faced man with silver streaking his hair, smiled warmly as she approached.

“It’s all… it’s all Indian,” she murmured, her voice tinged with wonder. She turned to Anthony, her eyes wide. “How did you—”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a soft chuckle. “But I thought you might like to take a look.”

Kate stepped forward, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked up a pair of gold anklets adorned with tiny bells. “These… they’re just like the ones my mother used to wear,” she said softly. Her eyes lifted to the vendor, and she switched to Hindi, her voice more animated as she spoke with him.

The vendor’s face lit up at her words, and he replied in kind. Their conversation flowed easily, Kate’s laughter weaving through the air as she learned that he was from a village not far from where she’d grown up.

Anthony watched her quietly, his heart tightening at the joy and wistfulness mingling on her face. After a few moments, he gently interrupted, pulling his coin pouch from his coat. He handed it to her after pulling a few coins out for himself.

“Here,” he said softly. “Buy anything you want.”

Kate blinked, startled. “Anthony, I couldn’t—”

“You can,” he interrupted firmly, pressing the pouch into her hands. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment. “Take your time.”

He stepped back, wandering to another stall to give her space, though he couldn’t help glancing over occasionally to see her smiling as she examined the jewelry.

When she finally joined him, Kate handed back his pouch. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I only bought a pair of earrings.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed. “Just earrings? Why?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Because I didn’t want to overindulge.”

“Overindulge?” he repeated, his voice incredulous. “Kate, come with me.”

Before she could protest, he took her hand and led her back to the stall. The vendor greeted them warmly, and Anthony gestured to the display.

“We’ll take these,” he said, pointing to the anklets Kate had admired earlier. “And she’ll choose a toe ring as well.”

“Anthony,” Kate began, her cheeks flushing.

He turned to her, his expression earnest. “You said these remind you of your mother. That alone is reason enough. Let me do this for you.”

Her protest melted away under the warmth of his gaze, and she nodded, her heart full.

As they walked away, the jewelry wrapped safely in a small parcel, Kate squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Anthony smiled, kissing her forehead. “You deserve it, Kate. Always.”

Chapter Text

Anthony woke from his nap, yearning for Kate. For the past three months of their honeymoon, they had made a habit of returning to bed after breakfast. Sometimes they made love; sometimes they just kissed or talked softly about their future. But they always ended up falling asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

This time, however, when Anthony reached for Kate, he found only cool, empty sheets. He rolled over and saw her at the vanity, brushing her hair and humming. For a moment, he just watched, captivated by the peaceful contentment on her face. Then, unable to resist, he called her back to him.

"Kate," he murmured.

She smiled at his reflection before standing and walking toward the bed. He reached for her hand and pulled her down beside him.

"I hate waking up without you," he whispered, his hands and lips exploring her with playful desperation as she giggled.

"So you've told me," Kate teased, laughter bubbling from her chest.

"Then why—" he paused to kiss her deeply—"would you let it happen?"

She laughed again, the sound sending a thrill through him. He thought, fleetingly, that he could live a lifetime sustained by her joy alone. But before he could pull her closer, she gently pushed him away and sat up.

"Colin has arrived."

Anthony groaned, though Kate saw the spark of a smile beneath his protest. "Ah, the honeymoon intruder."

Kate rolled her eyes. In a happy coincidence, Colin was staying at the same inn for a brief visit. Despite Anthony's grumbling, she knew he was excited to see his brother. He'd mentioned several times how they needed to show Colin this or tell him that when he arrived.

She pulled his hands off of her and stood, heading back towards the vanity. “Come now, I know you are eager to hear what he's been up to.”

Anthony smirked. “Surely he can wait a little longer.” He caught her wrist and tugged her back into bed, his grin turning wicked. This time, she didn’t resist.

Later, they met Colin in the small parlor of the inn. Warm hugs were exchanged before they sat down to lunch.

“It’s good to see you both,” Colin said, smiling at Anthony. “I’m surprised you let me interrupt your honeymoon.”

Kate laughed at her husband’s expression. Colin chuckled. “I see. Well, thank you, Kate, for allowing me to intrude.”

“Nonsense," Kate said cheerfully. "It’s lovely to see family."

“Yes. Lovely,” Anthony muttered, but there was a playful gleam in his eye.

Colin leaned forward, an amused look on his face. “You must tell me Kate, how much of a pain has Anthony been? He hates traveling, you know.”

"Hates it, does he?" Kate laughed as Anthony blushed. "Then why are we still wandering the globe?"

"Because you wanted to," he said.

“You didn't have to plan six months of travel, though!" Kate teased. “We could’ve stayed closer to home.”

Colin chuckled. “Kate, surely you’ve realized by now—Anthony would walk to India barefoot for you. Six months traveling pales in comparison.”

Anthony’s face was bright pink. “Why do I feel like I’m being made fun of for trying to give my wife a nice honeymoon?”

Kate giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “No, no, that is not why we’re making fun of you, my love.”

Colin raised his glass. “Kate, you truly are a Bridgerton.”

Anthony grumbled, but when Kate tapped her glass against Colin’s with a grin, he couldn’t help smiling too. The conversation flowed easily, filled with stories from their travels and playful jabs at Anthony’s expense.

Eventually, as tea was served, Colin's mood grew more subdued. He swirled his cup thoughtfully before asking, “Have you heard anything from London?”

Kate and Anthony exchanged a puzzled look before shrugging. “Surely you would know better than either of us,” Anthony said. “We’ve been away since the summer. Why do you ask?”

Colin hesitated. “Penelope hasn’t replied to my letters.” He looked down at his tea, as if embarrassed to admit how much this troubled him. “She always writes back quickly. I know she and Eloise had a falling out... I didn’t expect to be collateral damage.”

Kate frowned sympathetically. “I'm sorry, Colin. We have not heard anything.” She turned to Anthony. “Have you?”

Anthony looked at his wife in confusion. Kate sighed, rolling her eyes. “Did you not know Eloise and Penelope were on the outs?”

He shook his head sheepishly. “My attention has been elsewhere lately.” He reached over and kissed her hand.

Colin sighed. “Never mind.”

Kate reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry, Colin. I know Penelope is special to you. We will let you know if we hear anything.”

Colin blushed. “She is…my friend. I just want to know she is alright.”

Kate smiled. “I’m sure she is. You’ll be back in London for Christmas, won’t you? You’ll see her then.”

Colin brightened slightly, as if realizing this for the first time. “I suppose you’re right.”

Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. These Bridgerton men—brilliant in some ways, utterly hopeless in others.

Later that evening, the three of them gathered in Colin's room for a nightcap. Kate tried to convince Anthony to pour her another glass of whiskey, but he shook his head.

“No. You’ll be sick.”

Colin smirked into his drink as Kate glared. “You’ve given Colin twice as much,” she huffed.

Anthony smirked at Kate’s indignant tone. He knew she was past tipsy, veering into very, very drunk. “Colin can handle twice as much.”

Kate slumped back dramatically. Colin, still amused, discreetly tipped some of his whiskey into her glass. She tried to hold back a snort of laughter.

“Are you two making fun of me again?” Anthony said, turning around. Kate and Colin giggled.

“Of course not,” Kate said sweetly, kissing his cheek. But as the conversation resumed, she regretted the extra whiskey almost immediately. Her head swam, and she fought to keep her composure.

Anthony gave her a concerned glance. “Should we call it a night?”

“No, no," she said quickly. "You two continue. I’ll go to bed.”

“I will understand if you wish to join your wife,” Colin said, smirking at Anthony’s frown.

“No. Good night, Kate. I will be in later.” He kissed her cheek and she stood, desperately trying to stay steady on her feet as she made it to the door. “And please, drink some water.”

Kate tutted as she left but she knew it was probably a good idea. Colin rolled his eyes at his brother’s forlorn face as Anthony watched Kate leave.

Back in their room, she sipped water, hoping to calm the dizziness. One of Anthony’s shirts lay across the bed, and she picked it up, inhaling the scent of his musk and tobacco.

She thought about Anthony’s face that morning when she had caught him watching her in the mirror. The way he had gazed at her made her warm inside. Eventually she started to feel better and laid down, holding Anthony’s shirt tightly against herself.

She let her hands glide down her body as she thought about the way he had pulled her into the bed that morning, the sound of his satisfied moans as she rocked her body against his face. And then the way he had grabbed her hips as he thrusted into her, sending a shockwave of blinding pleasure through her. She pinched her nipple, imagining it was Anthony's mouth instead. She put her other hand between her legs and touched herself there, again imagining it was Anthony.

Just as she lost herself in the fantasy, a low voice startled her.

“Kate?”

She gasped, turning to see Anthony standing in the doorway, a smirk on his lips. “What are you doing?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, cheeks burning.

He chuckled, undressing himself as he made his way towards her. “I was quiet because I thought you were sleeping.”

When he reached the bed, his eyes darkened with desire. “But you’re not, are you? What–” he paused, biting at his lip while he gazed at her, “are you doing?”

She felt her face grow hot. “I was…just…thinking. Of you.”

“Well, don't stop on my account.” He smirked at her.

She laughed. “Anthony.”

He continued to stare at her. “I mean it. Do not stop.”

She hesitated—this somehow felt more vulnerable than anything else they had shared. But under his watchful eyes, she let her hand drift back down between her legs. Anthony groaned, pulling off the last of his clothes.

“Good girl," he whispered, his voice rough with arousal.

Kate groaned. The vulnerability she had been feeling suddenly melted away, and all she wanted to do was watch Anthony's face as he pleasured himself to her. She began to moan, louder than she would have by herself. Anthony gaped at her, stroking himself in time with her rhythm, his eyes locked on her.

She felt herself getting close. “Anthony. I need you inside me.”

He shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured. “Come for me first.”

Kate blushed and shook her head. “No, I need you. Now.”

He groaned, exasperated and aroused. “Kate. Please. I want to see you take yourself.”

Kate scowled playfully. “Say please again.”

Anthony groaned again, this time fully annoyed. “Kate. Please. Touch yourself.”

He removed his pants and climbed onto the bed, pushing her legs apart but sitting back as he continued to run his hand up and down his cock. “Do it. Come for me.”

With a sly smile, she obeyed—and when she did, Anthony pushed forward, joining her with a deep, satisfied sigh. She gasped in surprise, opening her eyes wide. Anthony grinned as he plunged into her and Kate threw her head back against the pillow, losing herself in the intensity of the second round of pleasure.

Chapter Text

The ship swayed gently on the calm Mediterranean, the rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the hull providing a soothing backdrop to the quiet night. In their cabin, dimly lit by a flickering oil lamp, Kate sat at the small vanity, undoing her hair. The pins and combs that had held her dark locks in place during dinner lay scattered on the wooden surface, their delicate shine muted in the warm light.

Anthony stood near the bed, removing his jacket and folding it neatly over a chair. His movements were unhurried, and his gaze lingered on Kate as she brushed through her hair, the strands falling like silk over her shoulders.

“You’ve been staring,” Kate said softly, not looking up from the mirror but smiling nonetheless.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, his tone light but sincere. “I’ve always found this part of the evening particularly mesmerizing.”

Kate glanced at him, arching a brow. “Watching me brush my hair? You must have been very easily entertained as a boy.”

Anthony crossed the small cabin in a few strides, stopping just behind her. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, his thumbs brushing against her collarbone. “Perhaps,” he said, leaning down so his lips were near her ear, “but I think it’s you who makes it mesmerizing.”

Kate laughed softly, shaking her head as she reached for the brush again. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Let me,” he interrupted gently, pressing a quick kiss to her head before plucking the brush from her hand.

Surprised but curious, Kate relented, her hands dropping to her lap as Anthony began brushing her hair. His touch was careful, the brush moving smoothly through her long tresses. The sensation was soothing, and she closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to sink into the comfort of his care.

After a few minutes, he set the brush down and gathered her hair in his hands. “Do you want it braided for bed?”

Kate turned her head slightly, looking at him over her shoulder. “You know how to braid?”

Anthony smirked, deftly dividing her hair into three sections. “I do have sisters, you know. I spent many a morning being roped into helping them with their hair when they couldn’t find a maid or were running late for lessons.”

Kate chuckled, though her voice was tinged with amazement. “What other talents are you hiding from me?”

“Oh, there’s more,” he said, his tone light but focused as his fingers worked expertly through her hair. “Though most of them aren’t what you’d call traditionally masculine.”

“Do tell,” Kate prompted, tilting her head to watch him in the mirror.

“Well,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly as he tightened the braid, “I can sew a button back on, in a pinch.”

Kate laughed, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Truly?”

“Not very well,” Anthony admitted with a grin. “But I can manage.”

Kate turned fully to face him as he tied off the braid with a ribbon he had plucked from her vanity. “You’re full of surprises, my love,” she said, her tone both teasing and affectionate.

Anthony smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. The ship rocked gently as they settled into bed, Kate’s neatly braided hair resting over her shoulder.

Anthony's voice broke the comfortable silence as he shifted to lie on his back. “You know,” he began, staring up at the low ceiling, “my mother always brushed my sisters’ hair like that. After my father died, though…” His voice faltered, and he exhaled slowly. “She stopped doing it altogether.”

Kate turned to face him, her expression soft with concern. “She must have been devastated.”

“She was inconsolable,” Anthony admitted. “She spoke often of wanting to be with him. Of wishing she could follow him into death. It terrified me, hearing her say those things.” His throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze distant. “I thought love was the reason for her pain. That losing someone you loved so deeply could destroy you.”

Kate’s chest ached at the raw grief in his voice. She reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “And so you resolved not to love.”

“Yes.” His lips twisted into a rueful smile. “It seemed a sensible choice at the time. If I never loved anyone, I’d never have to feel that kind of pain.” He paused, his throat working to swallow the lump that had formed. "I'd never leave my children alone that way."

Kate shifted closer, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I understand,” she said softly. “When my mother died, my father... he wasn’t the same. He became quiet, withdrawn. And when he passed, Mary did the same. I was left trying to hold everything together, trying to be strong for Edwina. For everyone.”

Anthony pressed his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

“We were still children,” Kate whispered. “We shouldn’t have had to carry so much.”

“No,” Anthony agreed, his voice breaking slightly. “But we did. And perhaps... perhaps that’s why we understand each other so well now.”

Kate nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. Anthony caught it with his thumb, his touch impossibly gentle.

“I used to think loving you would be my ruin,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But now... now I know it’s what saves me.”

Kate pressed her lips to his, a slow, tender kiss that held all the words they couldn’t say aloud. When they finally parted, they stayed close, foreheads touching, breaths mingling, and the weight of their shared pain settling into something softer, something healing.

Chapter Text

The sun dipped low over Algiers, casting the city in hues of amber and rose. From their perch on a quiet hill overlooking the port, Kate and Anthony could see the ships bobbing in the harbor, their sails painted gold by the fading light. The call to prayer echoed softly from a nearby minaret, mingling with the distant chatter of the bustling market below.

Kate leaned back on her hands, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun kissed the sea. "It's stunning, isn't it?"

Anthony sat beside her, his arm draped casually across the low stone wall. "It is," he agreed, though his gaze lingered on her instead of the view.

Kate caught the look and smiled, nudging his shoulder. "You're staring again."

"Can you blame me?" he teased, reaching for her hand.

She laughed softly, her fingers curling around his. For a while, they sat in companionable silence, the warm breeze carrying the faint scent of jasmine and the sea.

"Do you ever feel homesick?" Kate asked suddenly, her voice quiet but thoughtful.

Anthony tilted his head, considering the question. "I do," he admitted. "Do you?"

"Sometimes," she said, her gaze dropping to the golden light dancing on the waves. "I love everything about our journey, but there are moments when I miss the familiar."

"What do you miss most?" he asked, his tone curious.

"Newton," she replied instantly, her lips curving into a fond smile. "I wonder if he's behaving himself—or if Hyacinth is spoiling him rotten."

Anthony chuckled. "Knowing Hyacinth, it's definitely the latter."

Kate sighed, a note of wistfulness in her voice. "I miss his little waddles around the garden. And the way he curls up at my feet when I'm reading."

Anthony squeezed her hand. "He'll be waiting for us when we get back."

"And you?" she asked, turning the question back on him. "What do you miss most?"

Anthony hesitated, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "The food."

Kate blinked, then laughed, shaking her head. "The food? Anthony, we've been enjoying the most amazing cuisine on this trip. Spiced lamb, fresh bread, couscous—how could you possibly miss English food?"

He grinned, clearly enjoying her reaction. "I mean it. A good roast with Yorkshire pudding. Shepherd's pie. Simple, hearty meals."

Kate narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're lying."

"I'm not!" he protested, though his laugh betrayed him.

"You are," she said with mock sternness. "I can tell. Now tell me the truth."

Anthony sighed, his smile softening. "Fine. What I really miss are dinners with my family."

Kate's teasing expression melted into something more tender. "You miss the chaos, don't you?"

"I do," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "The noise, the laughter, the ridiculous arguments over who gets the last roll. Even when it's overwhelming, there's something comforting about it. It's home."

Kate's heart swelled at his words, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I can understand that. Your family has such a special bond. It's something I've always admired."

Anthony pressed a kiss to her hair, his arm tightening around her. "We'll be back before you know it," he said reassuringly.

Kate smiled, her gaze returning to the horizon where the last sliver of sun disappeared into the sea. "I know. But for now, I'm glad we have this—just the two of us."

"Me too," Anthony murmured, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

As the stars began to prick the darkening sky, a distant melody drifted up from the city below—lively music accompanied by the faint sounds of laughter and applause.

"Do you hear that?" Kate asked, her eyes lighting up.

Anthony tilted his head, listening. "Sounds like some sort of celebration."

"Let's go see," she suggested, excitement coloring her voice.

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "Lead the way."

They made their way down winding streets toward the source of the music. The streets of Algiers were alive with color, sound, and the sweet aroma of jasmine carried on the evening breeze. Lanterns strung across the bustling square cast a golden glow over the crowds. The city felt electric, humming with energy.

Turning a corner, they stumbled upon a courtyard where a festival was in full swing. Musicians played lively, hypnotic rhythms on drums and stringed instruments, while a group of dancers took center stage. Their movements were mesmerizing—fluid and precise, their hips and torsos swaying to the music in a way that seemed both effortless and impossible.

Kate's eyes widened, her hand instinctively tightening on Anthony's arm. "Oh, Anthony, look," she whispered, her voice tinged with awe.

Anthony's gaze followed hers, landing on the dancers. He blinked, his expression a mix of intrigue and something resembling alarm. "Good Lord," he muttered under his breath. "What... what are they doing?"

"It's beautiful," Kate said, ignoring his tone as she stepped closer. Her eyes sparkled, the music weaving its way into her soul. "It reminds me of home, a little. The grace, the rhythm... it's enchanting."

Anthony shifted beside her, his hand still resting protectively on her back. "Enchanting, perhaps, but... rather indecent, don't you think?"

Kate turned to him, arching an eyebrow. "Indecent? Anthony, it's art."

"It's..." He gestured vaguely toward the dancers, his cheeks slightly pink. "It's a bit much, don't you think? All the... shaking."

Kate laughed, the sound warm and light. "You Englishmen and your modesty."

Anthony cleared his throat, clearly flustered. "This is just...so…different."

"Is it?" Kate teased, tilting her head as she watched the dancers. "This is joy. It's storytelling through movement. And look at the audience—they're captivated."

Anthony glanced around, noting the smiles and cheers from the gathered crowd. "I suppose it is... compelling," he admitted grudgingly, his gaze drifting back to Kate. Her expression was soft, tinged with nostalgia.

"Did you dance like this in India?" he asked as they began walking back to their lodgings, the festival fading into the distance.

Kate smiled wistfully. "Not quite. It wasn't the same, but there were similarities. The dances I remember were often part of festivals or temple celebrations. They were about grace, about embodying the music with your entire being. Sometimes they told stories, too—myths, legends." She glanced at him, her eyes bright. "And yes, there was a lot of hip movement."

Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't imagine you doing this."

Kate smirked. "Is that a challenge?"

They reached their room, the rhythmic music still echoing faintly in Kate's mind as she began to untie the sash of her dress. Anthony watched her, his gaze thoughtful. "Show me."

Kate blinked, startled. "Show you what?"

"The hip movement," he said, his tone teasing but his eyes warm. "Like the dancers."

Kate laughed, shaking her head. "Anthony, absolutely not."

"Why not?" he pressed, stepping closer. "You said it's art. Expression. I want to see."

She narrowed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. "Fine. But only if you do it too."

Anthony blinked, clearly not expecting that. "Me?"

"Yes, you," Kate said, grinning. "It's only fair."

He groaned but nodded, motioning for her to go first. Kate took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, letting the memory of the music guide her. Her hips swayed tentatively at first, but soon she found a rhythm, her movements growing more fluid. It wasn't perfect, but it was graceful, and Anthony's jaw slackened as he watched.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his voice low.

Kate smirked, turning to him. "Your turn."

Anthony hesitated, looking decidedly less confident. "I don't think I can—"

"No excuses," Kate said, crossing her arms. "If I did it, you have to."

With a sigh of resignation, Anthony stepped forward. He attempted a sway of his hips, which was more awkward shuffle than anything else. Kate clapped a hand over her mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh. His movements were stiff and exaggerated, his arms flailing slightly as he tried to mimic what he'd seen.

Kate doubled over, laughter spilling out uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face as she sank onto the bed. "Oh, Anthony," she gasped. "That was—oh, my—so terrible."

Anthony's cheeks flushed, his pride clearly wounded. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent dancer."

"Not at this," Kate managed between giggles. She reached for him, pulling him down beside her on the bed. "I'm sorry," she said, still laughing but softening as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "It was adorable. Truly."

He huffed, his lips twitching despite himself. "Adorable?"

"Yes," she said, brushing a hand through his hair. "And brave. But perhaps I should stick to the dancing." She tilted her head, her tone teasing but affectionate. "Would you like me to show you again?"

Anthony's eyes darkened, his bruised ego melting away as he leaned closer. "I would," he murmured, his voice dropping. "But only if you promise to let me enjoy every second of it."

Kate smiled, her heart light. "It's a deal."

Chapter Text

The rain came suddenly, sweeping in from the sea in a torrent that lashed against the windows of the oceanside inn. Thunder rumbled low and ominous, reverberating through the cozy but weathered building. Kate stood by the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring out into the dark, roiling waves as lightning briefly illuminated the horizon.

Anthony stepped into the room, shaking droplets of rain from his coat before hanging it by the door. He paused when he saw her posture, her shoulders tense, her face pale.

“Kate?” he said gently, crossing the room to stand beside her.

She didn’t turn, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I’ve faced so many things, and yet… storms still unsettle me.”

Anthony’s expression softened as he reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “It’s not ridiculous. Fear doesn’t need to make sense.” They stood in silence for a moment, watching the storm roll across the ocean. “Do you want me to read to you?”

She nodded, and he guided her to the bed, gently undressing her until she was in only her chemise. “Pick one,” he said, gesturing to the small bookshelf in their room. “Anything but poetry.”

She laughed, and chose a title about the country they were currently residing in. When she turned back to the bed, Anthony was already undressed and under the covers waiting for her.

Kate slid under the covers beside Anthony, the book clutched in her hands as the rain pattered against the window. She opened it to the first page and ran her fingers lightly over the worn edges of the paper.

“This one seems interesting,” she said, settling against his side. “It’s about Moroccan folklore and traditions.”

Anthony pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her as he rested his chin on her head. “A fitting choice,” he murmured. He took the book from her and scanned from the table of contents. “Which kind of tale are you in the mood for?”

Kate chuckled, pointing to a chapter about love and fate. “This one looks interesting.”

Anthony began reading, his voice taking on a gentle cadence as he read about Isli and Tislit, two lovers from rival tribes who fell deeply in love. Forbidden to be together, they met one last time in the mountains and wept over their doomed love. Their tears form two lakes, now called Lake Isli and Lake Tislit, which lie near each other but never touch.

Kate listened intently, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Anthony’s chest. When he finished, she sighed. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “And heartbreaking.”

Anthony closed the book, setting it on the bedside table. He pressed a kiss to her temple. Kate turned her face toward him, her eyes soft in the flickering lamplight. “I love stories like that,” she murmured.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “Ones about love?” he asked. “I didn’t take you for a romance reader.”

Kate’s lips curved into a smile. “Not romance. I mean, the way every culture creates stories to explain the world around them. Isn’t it fascinating?”

Anthony gazed at his wife, marveling at both her beauty and her mind. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

Kate’s eyes sparkled, though her tone remained teasing. “Because I like stories about doomed lovers who turn into lakes?”

“Because you make me think about things I’ve never considered before,” he replied, his voice sincere. “And because you look impossibly lovely right now.”

Kate tilted her head. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Is it working?” Anthony countered, his own smile growing.

She laughed softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Perhaps.”

He kissed her then, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise. When they finally pulled apart, Kate’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. They lay there for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth. Kate reached out to pick up the book again, but Anthony caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“No more reading,” he murmured. “I want to spend the rest of the night with you, just like this.”

Kate smiled, her heart full. “Just like this,” she agreed, settling against his chest.

As the storm faded, the gentle rhythm of the waves replaced the thunder, the room wrapped in the stillness of the night, their soft laughter and whispered conversations occasionally echoing through the room.

Chapter Text

Kate awoke to the soft pattering of rain on the roof of their rented home in Tangier. The dim morning light filtered into the room, mixing with the rhythmic splashes against the windows. She slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Anthony, and padded across the room to peer outside. The Mediterranean Sea stretched before her, dark and restless beneath the storm. She jumped when a sudden crack of lightning illuminated the horizon. She braced herself for the boom of thunder that followed.

Behind her, Anthony stirred. “Kate?”

She turned, meeting his sleepy gaze. He lifted the blanket in silent invitation. “Come back to bed, darling.”

She smiled and began to walk back when the thunder boomed. Kate jumped and bolted back under the covers. She felt her body shaking but Anthony wrapped her in his arms, his body solid and warm against hers.

“You’re safe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you.”

Kate let out a breathy laugh at herself. “I knew it was coming, and it still startled me.”

Anthony chuckled softly, his hand stroking soothing circles on her back. “Do you want me to read to you?”

She shook her head and yawned. “Let’s stay like this.” She reached up to tug the canopy curtains closed, plunging them into a cozy darkness. Anthony mirrored her, pulling the other curtains shut.

Kate snuggled closer, her cheek against his chest.

“This is nice. Like a…a cave. A cocoon!” she whispered, giggling. Another flash of lightning lit the cracks in the curtains, but Kate’s eyes were closed and she didn’t seem to notice it. He pulled her tight, anticipating the thunder.

“It’s Christmas,” he said, close to her ear that wasn’t pressed to his chest. He thought maybe his voice could dampen the boom. He just needed to talk about something. “My ninth year, I ate so much plum pudding that I got sick during the church services that evening.”

Kate giggled sleepily. “So I take it you don’t care for it anymore?”

Anthony grinned. “No, I don’t care much for the church services, if I’m honest.”

Kate laughed, the sound warm against his chest. “I meant the pudding,” she said.

“I still enjoy that,” he replied with a chuckle. After a pause, he asked softly, “What about you? Any embarrassing Christmas memories?”

Kate shifted slightly, her voice quieter. “We didn’t really celebrate Christmas growing up. My father and first mother were Hindu. We went to church with Mary sometimes, but I stopped when I got older.” She glanced up at Anthony. “Does that bother you? That I’m not Christian?”

He shook his head without hesitation. “Not in the slightest. Like I said, I’m not especially fond of church myself.”

They were quiet for a minute. “What do you believe?” he asked softly.

He felt Kate shrug against him. “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve always been more concerned with living this life rather than thinking too much about the next.”

Anthony thought for a moment. “What does that mean? The next life?”

“Hindus believe that our souls are reincarnated. We don’t go to heaven when we die. We come back as someone new. Or something. Like an animal, perhaps.”

Anthony was quiet in thought.

“Do you think that's silly?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, not at all, I was just thinking about my father.” There was another boom of thunder and Kate flinched.

He kissed her forehead. “I quite like the idea that he’s come back, in some way.” He smiled in the dark as he stroked her hair.

Kate nodded, stifling a yawn. “Me too. I like to think my father came back as an elephant. They were his favorite.”

“I’d quite like to be an elk,” Anthony said. “Strong and fierce, but peaceful…though I suppose I’d have to worry about being hunted.” He chuckled. “Could you imagine having antlers like that…”

He continued his idle musings until he realized Kate was fast asleep against him, even as the storm raged on.

Later in the day, the storm clouds broke, allowing the sun to bathe the terrace in golden light. Anthony poured tea as Kate joined him at the small outdoor table.

“You look especially beautiful today,” he said.

She laughed. “You say that to me every day, you know.”

“And every day it is true,” he smiled. “I have something for you.”

“Anthony,” she groaned playfully. “We said we would not buy gifts for each other.”

“I didn’t buy a thing,” he replied with a grin. He reached beside him, pulling out a thick stack of letters tied with twine. “These are letters—from our family. I thought you might be missing them.”

Kate’s eyes sparkled with emotion. “Oh, Anthony…”

He handed her the stack, and she laughed softly, sorting through them. “I don’t know where to begin.”

Anthony plucked the letters from her hands and fanned them out like a deck of cards. “Pick one.”

Giggling, she chose a letter from the middle. “Ah, from Eloise.”

Anthony frowned. “Perhaps you should pick again. Hers may not be the best to start with.”

Kate laughed. “I think hers is the perfect start.” She opened the letter. “It’s quite short.” She read aloud:

Dear Kate and Anthony,

First of all, you must know I do not much like writing letters or being told to do things. That being said, happy Christmas. Newton sleeps in the study most days, in front of the fire now that the weather has grown colder.

I trust you’re enjoying your honeymoon. Please spare me any details.

Kate, we miss you. Anthony, take your time returning.

With love,
Eloise

P.S. Teasing, Anthony. We miss you too.

Kate was laughing so hard she could barely finish reading. “Your sister is delightful.”

“I don’t know about that.” Anthony grumbled. “I do hope your dog is not on my chair.”

“Oh stop,” Kate said, giggling. “Let us do another.”

Anthony fanned the rest of the letters out for her again, grinning at her delight.

“Oh, from your mother,” Kate smiled.

My darlings Anthony and Kate,

While it will be a bittersweet holiday without you this year, I am deeply comforted knowing you two are happy and enjoying your time together. When I start to miss my son, I think about how he is simply away with his wonderful wife, and I know he is smiling and happy again and the ache in my heart disappears. I am looking forward to the day you both return. Our family is not the same without you.

Anthony, your brothers are doing an excellent job covering your duties. I do not even think they mind so much anymore. Kate, Newton is quite well, and getting quite large, as I suspect Hyacinth and Gregory have been feeding most of their dinners to him instead of themselves. Do not worry, he will be waiting outside the dining room from now on.

We all look forward to your return and hearing of your travels. Write us at your convenience– do not feel pressured. I would rather you enjoy yourselves and think little of us at all!

All my love,

Mother/Violet

Kate wiped tears away from the corners of her eyes. “Your mother is so sweet.” She leaned over to kiss Anthony. “You are very sweet. This is such a thoughtful gift, Anthony.”

He fanned the letters out to her again. “Ready for another?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon reading the letters from all their family members. The letter from Mary made Kate cry. Her mother had written a similar sentiment as Violet’s, telling of a dream she had had where Kate was all alone, in India, and how relieved she was when she awoke and remembered her daughter was with her husband, and happy, and how she had slept easily after that, although of course she still missed Kate.

Edwina wrote of how delighted they would be to host them before she and Friedrich left for their honeymoon. Colin had thanked them for their hospitality in Tunis, and that he hoped they might run into each other again before they all returned to London in the spring. Anthony had grumbled at that. Daphne had signed her letter from herself and Augie. Simon had written them a letter of his own, encouraging them to enjoy their time alone and not rush back. Benedict included a drawing of Newton, which Kate gleefully held aloft, claiming it was the best thing she’d ever seen.

Hyacinth had somehow managed to include Newton’s pawprint on her letter, and Gregory had written in his letter about how it was actually his idea to do it but Hyacinth insisted it be on her letter, since she was the one on Newton update duty. Francesca had written in her postscript that she hoped the final product was worth it– apparently many of Benedict’s paints had been “borrowed” and there was a trail of colorful pawprints in the nursery that the staff had yet been unable to remove. By the time they finished the stack, Kate’s belly hurt from her laughter.

“I have one more for you,” Anthony said, pulling another letter from his jacket pocket. Her brows scrunched in confusion.

“From who?” She took the envelope from him, reading her name in his script on the front of it. “Oh, from you?”

He kissed her forehead. “Please don’t read it in front of me,” he laughed softly. “I feel embarrassed enough that I wrote it down.”

He walked back into the house and she opened the letter.

My dearest Kathani,

Since you insisted on no gifts, I find myself resorting to this letter. Perhaps it’s for the best—I could never find a gift that would match what you’ve given me.

As I write this, you are lying in bed, asleep. Naked. You are so beautiful, Kate. Every morning when I wake, I cannot believe that you are really next to me. I feel as if I dreamt you to life. Every day, you surprise me with your wit and your grace. You are simply the most incredible person I have ever met. It is marvelous that you let me love you. And it is nearly unbelievable to me that you love me too.

I believe I once told you that you were the bane of my existence. And my darling, it is still true, for I cannot do anything anymore without your face at the forefront of my mind. It is an exquisite delight to be tormented by you.

You are beginning to stir, so I am going to finish this letter here and kiss you good morning.

All my love, for as long as we live,

Anthony

PS. Oh yes, merry Christmas.

Chapter Text

The air inside their small, seaside inn in Cadiz was warm and quiet, the soft crackle of a fire in the hearth competing only with the rhythmic crash of the waves outside. The sounds of distant laughter and music from a celebration in the nearby village drifted faintly through the open window, but Kate and Anthony had chosen to stay in, wrapped in the privacy of each other’s company.

Anthony handed Kate a delicate flute of champagne, the golden liquid catching the firelight as he settled beside her on the plush settee. “To us,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Kate raised her glass to his, the soft clink of crystal making her smile. “To us,” she echoed. She took a sip, the effervescent drink dancing on her tongue.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the flickering firelight casting soft shadows across the room. Kate’s gaze drifted to the window, where the moonlight illuminated the rolling waves in silver.

“It’s strange,” she began, her voice thoughtful. “Thinking that this time next year, we’ll likely be back in London. This trip will feel like a dream.”

Anthony reached for her free hand, threading his fingers through hers. “A dream I wouldn’t trade for anything,” he said. “But I have to admit, I’m looking forward to being home. There’s something comforting about knowing where the road leads next.”

Kate tilted her head, her eyes meeting his. “And where does it lead for us, my love?”

Anthony smiled, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “To more time together. To making a home. To starting our family.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced down, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I’d like that. I’ve been thinking about it so much lately—what it will be like to return. To see everyone again. To see Edwina in the spring.”

Anthony chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “You’ll just have to endure me for a few more months before then. Think you can manage?”

Kate’s laughter was light and genuine, filling the cozy room. “I suppose I’ll survive.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice soft. “I’m looking forward to this year, Anthony. To what’s ahead for us. It feels… full of possibilities.”

Anthony kissed the top of her head, his voice quiet but certain. “It is. And whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”

They sat like that for a while, their glasses nearly forgotten as they watched the firelight dance. When the clock in the village struck midnight, its distant chime carrying through the still night, Anthony tilted her chin up to look at him.

“Happy New Year, Kate,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth.

“Happy New Year, Anthony,” she whispered, just before his lips met hers in a kiss that held all the promise of their shared dreams and the love that made them possible.

Chapter Text

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the Andalusian countryside as Kate and Anthony arrived at a small stable on the outskirts of a picturesque village. The scent of hay and the soft nickering of horses greeted them, and Kate’s eyes immediately lit up as she spotted the sleek, powerful forms of Andalusian horses in the paddock.

“Oh, they're magnificent,” she murmured, stepping closer to the fence, her hands curling over the wooden rail. The horses’ coats gleamed in shades of white, gray, and chestnut, their manes long and flowing like silk.

Anthony chuckled at her expression. “I had a feeling you’d like them.”

“Like them?” Kate said, turning to him with wide eyes. “These are some of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. Look at their movement—so elegant, so strong.”

He smirked, pleased by her enthusiasm. “I thought we might take a ride.”

Her face lit up even more. “Truly?”

Anthony nodded, signaling to a stablehand. Within minutes, two horses were saddled and ready—a proud dapple-gray stallion for Anthony and a striking white mare for Kate. She approached the mare with a soft smile, stroking its neck as she murmured soothing words in its ear. The horse nickered softly, nudging her hand.

Anthony watched as she swung into the saddle with practiced ease, her posture effortless as the mare moved beneath her. His own mount shifted restlessly, and he climbed up with considerably less grace. The stallion pawed the ground, testing his rider. “I see why they’re described as spirited,” he muttered, adjusting his seat.

Kate guided her mare in a smooth circle, her laughter carrying on the breeze. “You look like you’re preparing for battle.”

“I might as well be,” Anthony said wryly, tightening his grip on the reins as the stallion tossed its head. “This one has a mind of his own.”

“Relax,” Kate called, her voice light. “Trust him, and he’ll trust you.”

Anthony watched her with a mix of admiration and exasperation as she expertly guided the mare through the paddock. “You make it look far too easy.”

The horses soon found a rhythm as the pair rode out of the stableyard and into the rolling hills. The path wound through olive groves and vineyards, the land awash in winter greens and golden sunlight. Kate let out a contented sigh, her cheeks flushed from the crisp air. “This is heaven,” she murmured, tilting her face to the sun.

Anthony, riding a few paces behind, watched her with quiet awe. Her hair had come loose from its pins, strands fluttering in the breeze, and her expression was one of pure joy. “You look radiant,” he said, his voice carrying warmth.

She glanced back at him, grinning. “Are you talking to me or the horse?”

He smirked. “Both.”

They paused at the crest of a hill overlooking a vineyard, its dormant vines stretching in neat rows across the landscape. The view was breathtaking, but Kate’s attention remained on her mare, her hand stroking the horse’s neck.

Anthony turned to Kate, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “You know,” he said, “we could buy one of these horses. Bring her back to England.”

Kate froze mid-pat, her head snapping toward him. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he said, gesturing to the mare. “You clearly adore her. Why not make her yours?”

Kate stared at him, half-disbelieving and half-amused. “You’re suggesting we buy a horse and transport her across countries and seas just because I happen to admire her?”

“Exactly,” Anthony said, his grin widening. “What’s the point of being a viscount if I can’t indulge my wife’s whims?”

Kate burst into laughter, shaking her head. “Anthony, no. She’s beautiful, yes, but she belongs here. Besides, we already have a stable full of horses back home.”

“None like these,” Anthony pointed out, gesturing to the mare. “Imagine how jealous my brothers would be.”

Kate laughed, shaking her head at him. “That’s not a good enough reason to uproot this poor girl from her home,” she said softly.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said thoughtfully, hearing the wistfulness in her tone.

They rode on, the horses carrying them through the sun-dappled hills, their laughter and teasing banter carried away on the warm Andalusian breeze.

Chapter Text

Kate sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, staring at the stark red stain on the cloth—a bitter end to her quiet hopes. Lately, the longing for a child had grown like ivy, creeping into her thoughts, wrapping around her heart. Once, she had been content with the idea of a solitary life—a spinster surrounded by children she could nurture in exchange for room and board. But now she dreamed of a baby with Anthony’s mischievous grin and those warm, brown eyes that crinkled when he smiled.

A small voice had begun to whisper doubts: What if something is wrong with me? Though they’d only been married six months, they hadn’t lacked for… effort. She was already twenty-seven, hardly a young bride, and the cruel thought nagged at the back of her mind: Perhaps it’s too late for me.

The door creaked open, and Anthony appeared, his brow creasing at the sight of her slumped on the bed.

“Kate?” he called gently.

She glanced up, quickly brushing tears from her cheeks as he crossed the room and sat beside her. Without a word, he handed her his handkerchief.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice wavered. “I’ve started my courses.”

Anthony pulled her gently against him, wrapping her in the solid warmth of his arms. She leaned into his embrace, comforted but still aching inside.

“I’m being silly,” she continued. “I just… I had begun to hope.”

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “Why would your hope be silly?”

Kate shook her head, biting her lip. “What if it never happens? What if there’s something wrong with me?” She winced, embarrassed by the vulnerability in her voice.

Anthony stiffened, pulling back to look her in the eyes, though she refused to meet his gaze. “Kate. No.” He tilted her chin gently until their eyes met. “It’s only been a few months. These things can take time.”

She exhaled shakily, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s just… I’ve been dreaming of a baby. It’s strange how quickly this desire has taken hold of me.”

Anthony smiled softly. “I want it too, Kate. I haven’t dreamt about it yet, but I think about it often enough.”

She managed a small smile in return.

“We’ve been traveling a lot,” Anthony said, squeezing her hand. “I’ve heard that can sometimes… interfere… with the process. But I’m no doctor.”

Kate laughed lightly. “Yes, travel is hard on the body. I should be resting more.”

Anthony held both of her hands between his own. “If you want, we can return to London sooner. Start building our family home together. Focus on trying in earnest.”

Kate giggled, her earlier sadness fading under his warmth. “Have we not been trying in earnest?”

He grinned. “We’ve certainly made an effort. But some of our activities aren’t going to end up creating a child, you know.” His thumb traced the band of her engagement ring. “What we did this morning, for instance…”

Her cheeks flamed as the scene flashed through her mind: herself on her knees, Anthony by the fire, cigar smoke curling lazily through the air. She shifted slightly, heat blooming between her thighs. “I know.”

Anthony raised a brow, clearly amused by her reaction. “I am quite content for it to remain just the two of us a little longer. If you’re happy to continue our travels, so am I.”

She nodded. “I am. I’ve been looking forward to the rest of our trip.”

He kissed her hands and then her lips, murmuring, “It will happen for us when the time is right.”

Kate kissed him again, her heart lighter. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

Chapter Text

Anthony’s jaw dropped as Kate descended the staircase in a dark purple gown.

“Is that a new dress?” he asked.

Kate shook her head, smoothing her skirts. “No, I’ve had it for some time.”

Anthony smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in it. You look stunning.”

She blushed, her smile soft. “Thank you. Shall we?”

He offered his arm, and they made their way to the carriage. Kate had been eagerly anticipating their visit to the Real Teatro de los Caños del Peral. She had never seen a Spanish operetta before.

As soon as they were inside the carriage, Anthony found it impossible to keep his hands off her.

“Anthony!” she scolded, swatting his wandering hands away with a playful grin. “What has gotten into you tonight?”

He laughed, unrepentant. “You’re just… so tempting. Did you buy a new perfume or something?”

Kate shook her head, amused. “No. I’m wearing the one you bought me in Egypt.”

Anthony pressed his lips to her neck, breathing her in. “It suits you. When we get back to our room, I’m going to do everything I can to put a baby in you.”

Kate gasped, scandalized and delighted. “Anthony!”

He nipped playfully at her ear as his hands pushed up her skirts. “What? Isn’t that what you want?”

She sputtered, her face hot. “I– Well, yes, but–” Kate squirmed, pulling her skirts back down. “We’ll be there soon, and I refuse to show up looking flustered.”

Anthony pouted, and she stifled a laugh at his expression. “You can do whatever you want to me when we’re back in our bed alone,” she whispered, giggling.

His eyes sparkled. “Is that a promise?”

By the time they reached the opera house, Kate was breathless with laughter. Anthony offered his arm with a playful bow, and they entered the theater. Anthony pointed to one of the balconies. “That one’s ours tonight,” he said.

Kate beamed. “Our own box? You really do spoil me.”

They settled into their seats as the attendants extinguished the candles, plunging the theater into hushed darkness. Anthony took her hand, lacing their fingers together as the music swelled.

The first act enchanted her, and by the time intermission arrived, she was discreetly wiping away tears with the handkerchief Anthony handed her.
“You embroidered this for me,” Anthony teased as he took it back, watching her fondly. “Now I’ll never be able to wash it. A memento of your sentimental streak.”

Kate laughed, snatching the handkerchief from him just as someone in the neighboring box shushed her. Anthony stood as if to confront them, but Kate pulled him back into his seat, giggling.

The second act dragged, the story faltering in its charm. Kate leafed through the program, trying to predict how much longer it would last.

“Not enjoying it anymore?” Anthony whispered.

She shook her head. “The story has grown dull, has it not?”

He shrugged. “I’ve had no idea what’s been happening anyway.”

Kate snorted, earning another harsh shush from their neighbors. She leaned closer to Anthony, her voice low. “Shall we slip away early?”

Anthony’s grin widened. “We could… unless you think you can stay quiet.”

Kate’s eyes widened as Anthony’s hand slid beneath her skirts. “Anthony!” she hissed.

He smirked. “Just focus on the stage, darling.”

Kate batted his hand away, her face burning. “Not here,” she whispered, giggling at his disappointed look. “I don’t want to be quiet. Call for our carriage.”

Anthony stood immediately, pulling her toward the exit with a wicked grin.

The moment they were inside the carriage, Anthony pinned her against the seat, kissing her hungrily. Kate squealed with laughter as he trailed kisses along her neck and down to the valley between her breasts.

“Anthony!”

He hushed her with a kiss, his hands already lifting her skirts. Kate surrendered to him, closing her eyes as his fingers found their way to her center.

Her pleasure seemed to excite him just as much, and his whispers against her skin spurred her on. “Yes, Kate… just like that, darling. Come for me, my love.”

She threw her head back against the carriage seat and stifled a yelp, remembering too late that they were not in the privacy of their bedroom. Anthony chuckled, pulling his hands away from her body and sucking his fingers into his mouth to taste her.

“You are breathtaking like this,” he murmured.

Kate blushed, still catching her breath as the carriage slowed to a stop in front of their lodgings.

“Ready?” Anthony asked, his grin devilish. “I believe you promised me free rein.”

Kate giggled, nodding. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The golden afternoon light streamed through the windows of the art gallery, casting warm hues over polished marble floors and gilded frames. Kate wandered ahead, her gloved hand trailing lightly along the velvet rope barriers separating visitors from priceless works of art. Her eyes danced over canvases of sun-drenched landscapes and luminous portraits, absorbing the beauty around her.

Anthony followed a few steps behind, hands clasped behind his back, his brows slightly furrowed in that familiar way he had when he was deep in thought. Art galleries were not his usual domain—his preference leaned more towards estate ledgers and fencing matches—but there was something about being here, with Kate’s face glowing in the dappled light, that made him feel… content.

“Anthony,” Kate called softly over her shoulder. “You’re glaring at that painting as if it insulted your mother.”

Anthony blinked, turning his attention away from an abstract piece he could make neither head nor tail of. “It’s… interpretive.”

Kate bit back a laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she took his arm and gently steered him toward a particularly striking painting—a reclining woman, her hair tumbling over bare shoulders, her expression serene and sated. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

Anthony looked away, his ears turning pink. “Yes, well. I suppose it’s… well rendered.”

Kate chuckled, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Oh, Anthony. You’ve faced down dueling pistols and wild horses without flinching, but a bit of painted skin has you blushing like a schoolboy.”
Anthony grumbled something under his breath, but Kate had already moved ahead, laughing lightly to herself.

And then he saw it.

Tucked into a shadowed corner was a statuette—a woman cast in bronze, reclined gracefully on her side, her hair spilling like molten waves over one shoulder. Her body was soft, elegant, curves carved with such care that they almost seemed to breathe. But it was her expression that stopped him cold—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, a look of contentment so profound that Anthony felt an ache in his chest.

It was her.

It wasn’t, of course—it couldn’t be—but every line of the figure reminded him of Kate. The way she looked when they were tangled together in their bed after lovemaking, her skin glowing with the soft sheen of sweat, her body relaxed and utterly at ease. It was as if the sculptor had stolen one of their most private moments and preserved it in bronze. The thought of strangers standing here, staring at this—at her—sent an uncomfortable jolt through him.

“Anthony?”

He flinched and turned toward Kate, who was approaching him from across the room with a mischievous expression.

“Yes, darling?”

She twined her fingers with his as she reached him. “You’ve indulged me so patiently,” she said. She leaned in to whisper, “Shall we return to the inn so I can…reward you?”

Anthony grinned, turning quickly and pulling her towards the exit.

That evening, while Kate luxuriated in a warm bath at their inn, Anthony made his move.

He slipped out quietly, giving their driver strict instructions to wait for him at the gallery. The statuette had haunted him all afternoon, its graceful lines and intimate vulnerability etched into his mind.

When Kate had rewarded him for his earlier patience, she had lounged beside him afterward, her limbs draped lazily over the sheets, utterly unguarded in her trust and comfort with him. And in that moment, he had felt something sharp and primal coil in his chest.

That statue—the echo of her—belonged to them. To him. And he couldn’t bear the thought of strangers standing before it, staring, admiring, knowing.

His steps were purposeful as he re-entered the gallery. The attendant recognized him immediately, and with brisk efficiency, the statuette was wrapped, paid for, and carefully loaded into the carriage to be tucked among their belongings for the journey home.

By the time he returned to the inn, the sun had fully set, and their suite glowed with candlelight.

Kate was out of her bath, wrapped in a thin silk robe, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders. She sat curled on a chaise lounge, one leg tucked beneath her, re-reading the small leather-bound book.

When Anthony walked in, she glanced up, her expression calm but curious. “And where, my love, have you been?”

Anthony hesitated mid-step, his hand frozen on the buttons of his waistcoat. “I… went for a walk.”

“A walk,” Kate repeated, setting her book aside.

“Yes.”

“In the dark?”

“It’s quite safe.” He arched a brow, deflecting. “Which part are you reading again? Shall I guess?”

Kate smirked but didn’t look away from his gaze. She stood and crossed the room, her bare feet silent against the plush rug. Her robe shifted with her movement, revealing the faintest glimpse of her collarbone and the delicate swell of her breasts. Anthony swallowed hard.

She stopped inches from him, tilting her head to peer up at his face. “You’re a terrible liar, Anthony.” She kissed his neck, her lips traveling up to playfully nibble at his ear. “Where were you, my love?”

Anthony sighed, her warm breath unraveling him. “I may have… gone back to the gallery.”

Kate’s brows lifted as a teasing smile began to bloom on her lips. “Oh? Did you see something that caught your eye?”

Anthony flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Perhaps.”

Her smile turned mischievous. “Oh, now I’m dreadfully curious. My husband, the Viscount Bridgerton, admiring art? This is unexpected.”

“I do have layers, Kate,” he said, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “I may have… acquired a small piece. A sculpture.”

Kate’s eyebrows shot up. “A sculpture? You didn’t mention it.”

“It was a spontaneous decision,” Anthony said carefully.

“Spontaneous,” Kate repeated, her lips twitching with amusement. “Tell me, is this sculpture some noble figure? A great military hero? A lion, perhaps? Oh! Is it a horse? You do love a good horse.”

Anthony hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, his blush deepening to a dark red hue.

Kate’s eyes lit up. “Anthony… what did you buy?”

He sighed, resigning himself to his fate. “It’s… it’s a statuette. Of a woman.”

Kate’s eyes went wide, her grin wicked. “A woman? Oh, Anthony. Don’t tell me you’ve bought some tragic Greek goddess, all melancholy and draped in sorrowful robes.”

“It’s… not draped in anything.”

Silence fell.

Kate stared at him, her lips parting in astonishment before they curved into the slowest, most wicked smile he’d ever seen. “You bought a nude statue?”

Anthony groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s art, Kate. Tasteful art.”

Kate burst into laughter, clutching her sides as her shoulders shook. “Oh, Anthony! You, of all people, purchased a nude sculpture! Was it particularly educational? Did you feel inspired by her… anatomy?”

Anthony crossed his arms over his chest, trying to scowl, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re impossible.”

Kate wiped her eyes, gasping as she caught her breath. “No, no. Tell me—what possessed you?”

Anthony groaned, running a hand down his face. “Must you torment me so?”

“I must,” she said, grinning. “Tell me, please. What did you like so much about it?”

Anthony shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “It… it reminded me of you.”

The laughter died on Kate’s lips. She froze, her eyes softening.

Anthony looked at her, his voice quieter now, more earnest. “Of how you look after we’ve… after we’ve been together. The way you lie next to me, utterly at ease, utterly… beautiful.”

Kate’s teasing bravado crumbled in an instant, replaced by wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “Oh.”

Anthony stepped closer, his voice low and firm. “And I didn’t want anyone else seeing you like that. Even if it’s not you, even if it’s only a shadow of you—it felt wrong for it to be displayed for anyone to stare at.”

Kate’s lips parted as she took in his words. Slowly, she reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Oh, Anthony,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

His hand rose to cover hers, pressing her palm against his cheek. “It’s going in my dressing room. Somewhere only I will see it. Because it’s… ours.”

Kate felt her breath catch at the quiet devotion in his voice. She swallowed thickly, her throat tight with emotion. “You are… so unbearably sweet sometimes, Anthony Bridgerton.”

He huffed softly. “Don’t let word get out. I have a reputation to maintain.”

She smiled, then leaned up on her toes to kiss him softly, her lips lingering on his. Anthony wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss, pouring into it every unspoken word, every ounce of his devotion.

Chapter Text

Kate stood staring out the porthole, the silk scarf draped around her shoulders. Her fingers brushed the fabric absentmindedly, her thoughts caught between the tranquility of the sea and the warmth building behind her.

“You look stunning,” Anthony murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver through her.

Her breath caught as his fingers slid under the silk, lifting it gently before draping it around her neck. He tugged lightly, tilting her chin upward until her eyes met his. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his tone soft but commanding.

Kate swallowed, her pulse fluttering. “Always,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Anthony’s lips curved into a slow, approving smile. “Good.”

Guiding her to the bed, he kept the scarf looped loosely around her neck. As she reclined on the mattress, he leaned over her, his eyes searching hers. “Is this alright?” he asked, tugging gently at the scarf, the pressure just enough to make her breath hitch.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. The cool silk against her throat was both thrilling and grounding, a sharp contrast to the heat building within her.

Anthony leaned back to admire her, his expression a mix of tenderness and raw desire. The sight of her like this—beautiful, vulnerable, and entirely his—stole the breath from his lungs.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek with a gentleness that sent warmth coursing through her.

Kate squirmed beneath his gaze, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Anthony…” she murmured, her voice a mix of pleading and anticipation.

“Shh,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “Let me enjoy you.”

His hands roamed her body, deliberate and unhurried, his touch both soothing and electrifying. He kissed a trail down her neck, pausing to nip lightly at her collarbone before soothing the spot with his tongue. The scarf tightened slightly as he shifted, the sensation heightening every nerve in her body.

Her soft gasps and pleas filled the room, urging him on, but he maintained his deliberate pace, his restraint both maddening and intoxicating. He wrapped the loose end of the scarf around his hand, using it to hold her in place as he worshiped her with his touch.

“Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and his voice thick with emotion. “Completely mine. Completely free.”

Kate arched beneath him, her head tipping back as her body responded to his every movement. “Anthony… please…” she whispered, her voice shaking with need.

He lifted his head, his eyes locking with hers. “Patience, love,” he murmured, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I’ll give you what you need. When I’m ready.”

The deliberate rhythm left her trembling, every nerve alight as she surrendered completely to him. The tightness of the scarf around her neck, the cool silk against her heated skin, the overwhelming sensation of his control—it was all too much, and not enough.

When he finally gave her what she craved, her release came in waves, her cries muffled as he captured her lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.

Later, as they lay tangled in the sheets, Anthony carefully untied the scarf, his fingers lingering over the faint marks it had left. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Kate sighed contentedly as she curled into his side. “More than alright. I love you, Anthony.”

Anthony’s expression softened, his fingers threading through her hair. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. They lay together in the quiet warmth of the cabin, the rocking of the ship lulling them into a peaceful stillness.

Later that night, the weather turned. The sea grew wild under a dark, starless sky. Waves crashed against the ship, and the wind howled through the rigging, making the vessel groan as it rocked violently on the waves.

Kate clung to the edge of the bed, her knuckles white as the ship lurched. Every creak of the wood, every crash of the waves felt like a warning. A harbinger. Kate’s breath came fast and shallow as her mind conjured visions of water rushing in, of darkness swallowing them whole. “How can anyone sleep through this?” she whispered, her voice tight with nerves.

Anthony moved to her side, his steady presence a balm to her frayed nerves. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into the circle of his warmth. "Storms on the water sound far worse than they are,” Anthony said softly, his lips against her hair. “The ship is built to move with the waves, not fight them.”

Kate looked up at him, her wide eyes betraying her fear. “But what if it’s more than that? What if—”

“Shh,” Anthony soothed, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’re safe, Kate. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She exhaled shakily, allowing herself to lean into him. The rhythmic thud of his heart beneath her ear was a reassuring constant against the chaos outside. They stayed like that for hours, huddled together as the storm raged on. Kate drifted in and out of restless sleep, her dreams filled with the sound of crashing waves and Anthony’s steady voice grounding her.

Chapter Text

The narrow cobblestone streets of Dublin bustled with life. Shopkeepers called out from their doorways, women haggled over bolts of fabric at street stalls, and children darted between carts laden with fresh bread and flowers. The crisp winter air nipped at Kate’s cheeks, but the sun was shining brightly overhead, casting a golden glow over the city.

Anthony walked beside her, one hand tucked in his coat pocket while the other rested lightly against her lower back as he guided her through the crowd. They had spent the morning exploring—stopping at bakeries, marveling at the grand architecture, and occasionally ducking into quaint little shops tucked between larger storefronts.

“You’re smiling,” Anthony said softly as they walked side by side.

Kate glanced up at him, her face lit with quiet joy. “Am I not allowed to smile?”

Anthony smirked. “You are. I was merely remarking on how radiant you look when you do.”

Kate rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned pink nonetheless.

As they turned a corner, a small storefront caught Kate’s attention. The shop window was cluttered with mismatched treasures—porcelain figurines, delicate glass bottles, and brass trinkets that glinted in the sunlight. She paused to admire the curiosities, and Anthony smiled as he watched her, clearly enchanted by the display.

“Let’s go in,” he said, nodding toward the door.

The shop was dimly lit, filled with the faint scent of aged wood and beeswax. Shelves lined the walls, overflowing with an assortment of objects—some practical, others purely decorative. A glass case near the counter displayed pocket watches and delicate brooches, while wooden crates held rolled-up maps and leather-bound books.

Kate wandered ahead, her gloved fingers grazing the edge of a porcelain vase as she moved deeper into the shop. Anthony followed behind her, watching the way she moved with an easy curiosity, her eyes darting from one treasure to the next.

And then she stopped.

On a polished wooden pedestal near the corner sat a small music box—a gleaming mahogany creation with delicate brass accents and an inlaid mother-of-pearl design on the lid.

Kate reached out and lightly traced the inlay with her fingertip. “Oh, look at this, Anthony.”

He stepped up beside her, his brow lifting slightly as he examined the box. “It’s beautiful.”

“Do you think it works?” she asked softly.

Anthony glanced around, spotting the shopkeeper—a wiry older man with spectacles perched on the tip of his nose. “May we?”

The shopkeeper nodded, and Kate carefully wound the brass key on the side before lifting the lid. A soft, delicate melody began to play—a lilting, wistful waltz that filled the small space around them. The tune was both haunting and beautiful, each note plucked with precision from the tiny mechanism hidden beneath the lid.

Kate’s face was a picture of wonder. “How can something so small create something so lovely?”

Anthony watched her, his chest tightening at the look of quiet awe on her face.

“It’s almost…magical,” she said softly, her fingers lingering over the inlay. She dropped her hand and smiled tightly. “It must be terribly expensive.”

Anthony’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Do you want it?”

Kate hesitated, her eyes flickering back to the music box. Without another word, Anthony turned to the shopkeeper. “We’ll take it.”

“Anthony—”

He held up a hand, cutting her off gently. “Kate, you can’t put a price on something that makes you look the way you just did.”

Her lips parted, her expression caught somewhere between gratitude and embarrassment. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.

Anthony reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s my pleasure, darling.”

That evening, back in the warm glow of their rented drawing room, Kate carefully set the music box on a small side table near the fire. It sat open, its polished surface reflecting the flickering light, the soft melody still lingering in the air from when she had wound it moments earlier.

“Thank you again,” she said softly, turning to look at Anthony as he shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over a nearby chair.

He smiled, walking over to stand beside her. “It’s just a music box, Kate.”

“It’s not just anything,” she said earnestly. “It’s lovely, and it’s… ours now.”

Anthony reached out and tilted her chin up with two fingers, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, his voice was low. “Wind it all the way, love. And come dance with me.”

Kate hesitated for only a moment before turning the key on the side of the box. The melody began again, each note ringing out softly in the quiet room.

Anthony held out his hand. Kate took it, letting him pull her gently into his arms. They began to sway in the small space between the table and the fireplace, their movements slow and unhurried, their bodies pressed close. The tune from the music box played on, looping seamlessly.

Their steps slowed until they were no longer dancing but simply holding each other. Anthony’s hands roamed lightly over her back, his lips brushing against her temple, her cheek, her jaw.
Kate tilted her head back, her eyes locking with his, and he kissed her—softly at first, then with growing urgency.

Somehow, they ended up on the plush rug before the fire, tangled together in a haze of warmth and flickering light. The music box continued to play softly in the background, its delicate tune weaving around them as they made love right there on the floor—tender, reverent, and completely lost in one another.

The melody wound down, fading into silence, but neither of them noticed.

Chapter Text

The streets of Dublin glistened under the soft glow of the gas lamps, the remnants of an earlier rain leaving the evening air crisp and fresh. Music spilled from the open doors of pubs, mingling with laughter and the faint hum of conversation. Kate clung to Anthony’s arm, her steps light as they strolled along the bustling streets of Temple Bar.

“Dublin really comes alive at night,” Kate said, her cheeks flushed from the whiskey tasting they had just left. “It’s charming, don’t you think?”

Anthony glanced down at her, his lips curving into a fond smile. “It is. But I suspect the whiskey has you feeling extra sentimental.”

She laughed, the sound bright and carefree. “Perhaps. But you must admit, it’s beautiful. The lights, the music…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze darted to a street performer strumming a lively tune on a guitar. “It feels alive.”

Anthony chuckled, his grip on her arm tightening protectively as they weaved through the lively crowd. “I think you swallowed more whiskey than you tasted.”

“Oh, come now,” she said, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “I had to make sure we were choosing the most delicious barrel to take home to London.”

Anthony arched a brow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You did choose a good one. But I never thought you the type to imbibe so…publicly.”

Her laughter bubbled up again, and she stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “You’re impossible. Always so proper, so composed.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed in mock indignation. “Proper? Is that what you think?”

“Yes,” she said, crossing her arms and grinning up at him. “But it’s endearing, really.”

He stepped closer, his expression suddenly shifting, the teasing replaced by something darker, more playful. “Endearing, is it?” he murmured, his voice dropping.

Before she could respond, he caught her by the waist and gently but firmly pushed her back against the cool stone wall of a nearby building. The cobblestones beneath her feet felt uneven, and a cool breeze teased the hairs around her face.

“Anthony!” she squealed, glancing over his shoulder at a passing couple. Her cheeks flamed as she squirmed slightly in his grip. “Someone will see!”

He didn’t let go, his grin widening as he leaned closer. “Let them, Kate. They’ll only be jealous.”

Kate’s heart raced, her laughter caught between surprise and delight. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Maybe the whiskey,” he teased, his voice low and rough as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Or maybe I’ve just decided it’s time to prove you wrong.”

Her breath hitched as his lips hovered near hers, but just as he leaned in, she pushed lightly at his chest. “Fine,” she said, her voice breathless but teasing. “You’ve made your point. Now let me go before you scandalize the entire city.”

Anthony stepped back, his grin unrepentant as he took her hand again and guided her back into the street. “Admit it—you liked it.”

Kate bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe I did. Maybe you can do it to me again back in our room.”

Anthony stumbled slightly, caught off guard by her boldness. “Kate,” he murmured, his voice rougher now.

She only laughed, tugging him forward as they continued their walk. “Who’s the proper one now, my love?”

His arm slipped around her waist as they made their way back to the inn, the promise of more playful impropriety hanging between them like the soft glow of Dublin’s streetlights.

The door to their room creaked softly as Anthony pushed it open, guiding Kate inside with one hand resting low on her waist. The flickering light of the fire in the small hearth cast a warm golden glow across the modest but comfortable space—a large bed piled high with thick blankets, a small table with two chairs, and heavy curtains drawn against the cool night air.

Kate spun out of Anthony’s grasp and into the center of the room, her laughter bubbling up as she twirled, her skirts fanning out around her ankles, the soft tinkling of her anklets singing out in the warm air. “You know, Anthony,” she said with exaggerated seriousness, pointing a gloved finger in his direction, “you’re much more charming when you’ve had a little whiskey in you.”

Anthony smirked, shutting the door firmly behind them and leaning against it. His arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched her, his gaze slow and heavy with affection—and something sharper beneath it. “I’m charming all the time.”

Kate raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh, are you now? Is that what you tell yourself?”

He pushed off the door and started toward her with slow, deliberate steps, like a predator stalking its prey. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that little comment about me being proper in the street back there.”

Kate took a step back, her grin widening as her heels clicked softly against the wooden floor. “Well, it is true. You’re dreadfully composed most of the time.”

“Dreadfully, am I?” Anthony’s voice dropped an octave, and the air between them seemed to hum with tension as he closed the distance.

“Yes,” Kate replied, her voice softer now but threaded with mischief. “You’d hardly know you’re the same man who pushed me against a wall in public.”

Anthony stopped mere inches away from her, his gaze flicking briefly down to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Would you like me to prove you wrong again, Kate?”

Kate’s breath hitched, and her teasing smile faltered slightly under the weight of his stare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His smirk turned wicked as he reached for her, his hands landing on her waist and pulling her flush against him. Kate let out a surprised gasp as her palms flattened against his chest.

“Oh, my darling wife,” he murmured, his lips hovering just above hers, his breath warm and scented faintly of whiskey. “Haven’t you learned by now? I always dare.”

Before she could respond, Anthony leaned down and captured her mouth in a kiss—firm, unrelenting, and thoroughly possessive. Kate melted into him, her arms slipping up to wrap around his neck as her fingers tangled in his dark curls.

The world outside their room—the lively streets of Dublin, the faint strains of music and laughter drifting up from the tavern below—faded away entirely. There was only the warmth of his body pressed against hers, the taste of whiskey and Anthony on her tongue, and the way he kissed her as though he couldn’t quite get enough.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their faces mere inches apart. Anthony’s hands remained firmly at her waist, his thumbs brushing idle circles over the fabric of her gown.

His voice was low, gravelly, as he motioned toward the armchair by the fire. “Get on your knees.”

Kate froze for a heartbeat, her breath catching. The request—no, the command—lingered in the air between them, heavy and thrilling. She could see the hunger in his gaze, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. Slowly, she sank to her knees in front of the chair, her skirts pooling elegantly around her.

Anthony sat heavily in the chair, his legs spread slightly as he looked down at her. “Good girl,” he said softly, his voice roughened by something she couldn’t quite name but could certainly feel. Her fingers worked quickly, unfastening his trousers with an eagerness that made her own cheeks flush. When she took him into her mouth, Anthony let out a low groan, his head falling back against the chair.

“Yes, Kate,” he murmured, his voice a rough sigh. “Just like that.”

She lost herself in the rhythm, her hands and mouth working in perfect harmony as his quiet groans and whispered encouragements filled the space between them. But then his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and stilling her movement.

Kate froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. Anthony’s gaze was dark, almost glassy, as he slowly put both her wrists into one of his hands, holding them firmly above her. His free hand moved to the back of her head, guiding her gently but insistently forward.

For a brief moment, Kate was startled. Her breath hitched as she adjusted to the sudden loss of control. But then she realized something—something raw and undeniable. She liked this. She liked the way he held her, the weight of his authority wrapped around her wrists, the heat and hunger in his gaze as he guided her.

Her body relaxed, and she let herself yield entirely to him. Anthony groaned, his head falling back again as he lost himself in her. Moments later, his body tensed, and with a shuddering breath, he finished, his fingers curling tightly against her scalp.

When it was over, Anthony’s chest heaved as he slumped back in the chair, his hand slipping from her wrists as though the energy had been drained from him. Kate wiped at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, sitting back on her heels as she caught her breath.

His expression crumbled as he looked at her, his brow furrowing deeply. “Kate, I—” He swallowed hard, his voice soft, almost uncertain. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin. “Did I—was I too rough?” His voice was low, hesitant, almost afraid. ”I don’t know what came over me.”

But Kate smiled, slowly climbing to her feet and settling her body on top of his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips brushing lightly against his cheek. “I don’t know either,” she said, a soft laugh escaping her. “But I loved it.”

He let out a slow breath, his arms coming up to wrap tightly around her waist. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“You could never hurt me,” she whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw. “You only ever bring me pleasure.”

Anthony groaned as she slowly ground her body against his. “My love, I will take care of you, I promise. But I need a moment.”

She laughed softly, slowly slipping off his lap and pulling him towards the warm bed. Anthony followed her willingly, his fingers laced tightly with hers.

Chapter Text

On their last day before returning to England, Kate felt a strange melancholy settle over her. As eager as she was to see the Bridgerton family again—and her beloved Newton—she couldn't shake the sadness that came with the end of their honeymoon. It marked a return to reality: Anthony’s duties as a viscount, the demands of running their household, and the expectations of society. The ton’s gossip, the endless obligations—part of her longed to remain in the lovers' limbo of their honeymoon forever.

They had intended to spend their last day riding through the Irish countryside, but Kate had coaxed Anthony into staying in bed. It hadn’t required much convincing. He had agreed instantly, kissing her hungrily while she giggled.

“If it were up to me,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her body and making himself comfortable between her legs, “we would never leave our bed again.”

Kate laughed, then moaned as she felt his tongue and fingers. “Anthony,” she whined. “I need you inside me.”

He chuckled against her skin. "But I am inside you," he whispered teasingly, flexing his fingers in emphasis.

Kate groaned in a mix of pleasure and exasperation. "That’s not what I meant, and you know it," she grumbled, tugging him up to kiss her properly.

Obliging, Anthony aligned himself and eased into her, watching her face melt with bliss. Their lovemaking had ranged from frenzied to relaxed to gentle to rough over the last few months, and that morning they were perfectly in sync as they moved together slowly. Anthony’s gaze lingered on her expression, savoring each flicker of pleasure.

"Faster, Anthony," Kate urged, breathless.

He shook his head, his lips brushing her ear. "No. I want to take my time with you."

He pinned her wrists gently, holding her in place as he moved with a maddening slowness. "So beautiful," he whispered as he thrust into her. "You are so beautiful, Kate."

Her response was a low, throaty moan that seemed to vibrate from deep within her chest.

"Oh, Anthony," she whispered, her voice unraveling as pleasure overtook her. He watched her shudder and soften beneath him, only letting himself follow when she had reached her peak.

Afterward, they lay entwined in the quiet. Anthony lazily traced her fingers, kissing each of her fingertips one by one.

“You know,” Anthony said, his voice smug as he played with a lock of her hair, “I think that did it.”

Kate blinked, her mouth curving into a curious smile. "What do you mean?"

"You’re pregnant," Anthony declared with the kind of blunt confidence that made her laugh aloud.

"Anthony!" she gasped, playfully swatting his arm. But she caught his smirk with a kiss. They lay in a comfortable silence, each envisioning what the future might bring. After a long while, Kate sighed softly, her head resting on Anthony’s chest. The weight of their imminent return settled over her like a heavy quilt.

“Are you disappointed our trip is over?” Anthony’s voice broke through the quiet, his fingers still lazily tracing patterns on her back.

"A little. It feels like we’ve been in our own little world here,” she sighed again. “I don’t want to lose you to your work."

He exhaled heavily. "Neither do I."

"You should let me help you," she suggested, her tone soft but resolute.

Anthony looked at her in surprise. "Help me?"

"With your work. I am a viscountess now, after all. Surely I can handle a few responsibilities."

Anthony chuckled. "You've got a point. But running a household will be enough on its own—"

"Anthony," she interrupted. "I’ve managed a household for years. I assure you, I’m more than capable."

He kissed her forehead. "I know you are. But it’s not your burden. You’ll already have plenty to juggle with my siblings in the house." He raised a brow. "Are you certain you want them with us?"

"It’s their home," she said simply, shaking her head.

"My mother has found a dowager house with more than enough room for the younger ones," Anthony offered tentatively.

"Anthony." She sat up, giving him a stern look. "That’s nonsense. There’s plenty of space already. I feel lucky to have them all under one roof."

Anthony grinned, warmth flooding him as he watched her expression soften. He knew she was thinking about her own sister. “Are you excited to see Edwina in a few weeks?”

Kate’s face lit up with a bittersweet smile. “Oh, you have no idea. I miss her—and Amma—so much.”

Anthony nodded knowingly. Though Kate tried to hide it, he could tell from the wistful way she lingered over letters or how her mood would shift when she spoke of them.

“It’s been far too long,” Anthony murmured, his hand threading gently through her hair. “We’ll visit them as often as you like. I promise.”

Kate sighed contentedly, laying her head against his chest. “Thank you, Anthony.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, determined to make good on that promise.

Chapter Text

The fire crackled softly in the small hearth, casting warm light across the modest inn room. Outside, the wind howled faintly, a reminder of the wintry journey ahead. Kate stood by the mirror, brushing out her hair, the soft jingling of her anklets filling the quiet space.

Anthony sat in the armchair by the fire, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, a glass of wine resting in his hand. His gaze followed her reflection, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I love those,” he said suddenly, his voice low and warm.

Kate paused, turning to look at him, her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Your anklets,” he clarified, tilting his head toward her feet. “The little bells on them. I can hear you, even when you’re across the room. It’s as though you’re always with me.”

Kate’s heart swelled at his words, and she smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed to untie the ribbons at her hairline. “That’s a rather poetic thing to say for a man who claims he doesn’t care for poetry.”

Anthony chuckled, setting his glass down. “Perhaps you’re inspiring me to reconsider.”

Kate’s fingers stilled, her expression softening as she looked down at her feet. “I’ve been thinking about not wearing them once we’re back in London,” she admitted, her tone quieter now.

Anthony frowned, straightening in his chair. “Why?”

She hesitated, fiddling with the hem of her chemise. “The ton… they’re not exactly kind to things they don’t understand. I don’t want to give anyone an easy target for mockery.” She looked up at him, her brow furrowed with uncertainty. “I don’t mind standing out, but I’ve spent so much of my life being judged. I don’t know if I want to invite more.”

Anthony was silent for a moment, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Then he rose, crossing the room to kneel before her. He took her hands in his, his expression earnest.

“Kate,” he said, his voice steady, “you should wear whatever makes you feel most like yourself. Whether that’s these anklets, or sarees, or an armful of bangles, or nothing but the simplest of gowns. If anyone dares to make a single comment about it, they’ll answer to me.”

Kate’s lips parted in surprise, her heart twisting at the fierce sincerity in his eyes.

“I mean it,” he continued, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I married you because of who you are, not because I expected you to conform to what the ton considers proper. You make your own rules, Kate. And I’ll stand by you, no matter what.”

Her throat tightened, and she laughed softly, shaking her head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is,” he said with a crooked smile. “And if they whisper about us, let them. I’ll take joy in watching their jealousy when they see the woman I’m lucky enough to call my wife.”

Kate blinked back the sting of tears, her fingers brushing his cheek. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

Anthony grinned, leaning into her touch. “It’s a talent, isn’t it?”

Kate laughed, her thumb brushing his jaw as she leaned forward, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both soft and urgent. Anthony responded immediately, his hands slipping to her waist as he pulled her closer, their breaths mingling as the kiss deepened.

Her anklets jingled softly as she shifted, and Anthony smiled against her lips, murmuring, “Music, just for me.”

Kate broke the kiss with a laugh, her cheeks warm, her heart brimming with gratitude. “I think I’ll keep wearing them,” she said softly.

Anthony’s smile widened, his eyes alight with affection. “Good. I’ll never tire of hearing them.”

He kissed her again, this time slower, savoring the moment. Outside, the wind continued to howl, but within the cozy room, it was as though the world had narrowed to just the two of them, wrapped in warmth and the soft tinkling of bells.

Chapter Text

As the carriage pulled up to the grand Bridgerton home, the front door flew open, and a flurry of voices echoed into the chilly London air. Violet Bridgerton was the first to reach the steps, her arms outstretched.

"My darlings!" she cooed, her eyes bright with joy. "We’ve missed you both terribly."

She stepped back, holding Anthony at arm’s length to inspect him. "Look at you—so tan! And so happy!" she added with a smile as Anthony flushed under her gaze.

Newton, now slightly plumper, came barreling toward Kate, barking excitedly. His entire body wiggled with joy as he jumped at her feet.

“Oh, my sweet boy!” Kate cried, scooping Newton into her arms and burying her face in his fur. “I missed you so much!”

Anthony rolled his eyes in mock exasperation as Newton licked Kate’s cheek enthusiastically.

Just then, Hyacinth darted from the door, wrapping both Kate and Anthony in quick, fierce hugs. “Did you bring me anything?” she asked eagerly, her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Hyacinth!” Violet scolded, though the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement.

Kate laughed. "We brought gifts for everyone. Why don’t we all gather in the drawing room, and we can hand them out properly?”

Behind them, Mrs. Wilson, the head maid, cleared her throat politely. “Shall I have tea served, Lady Bridgerton?”

Kate glanced at Violet, who merely smiled and tilted her head. "She’s speaking to you, dear," Violet said gently.

Kate flushed, giving a small, embarrassed laugh at her own lapse. “Yes, please, Mrs. Wilson. Tea would be wonderful.”

As the family began filing inside, Anthony caught Kate’s hand and tugged her gently toward him, holding her back for just a moment. He kissed her softly, his smile warm and tender.
"Welcome home, Viscountess," he said.

Inside the cozy drawing room, the fire crackled in the hearth, casting a golden glow over the familiar chaos that was the Bridgerton family. Hyacinth and Gregory perched impatiently on the edge of the sofa, ready to pounce the moment Kate opened the trunk containing the gifts they brought back for their family.

“I think I might die if we don’t open it soon,” Gregory groaned dramatically, flopping backward.

“Then perish,” Eloise quipped from her chair, stretching out inelegantly as she kicked off her shoes. “At least go quietly. Some of us are trying to look dignified.”

“Since when?” Benedict asked with mock disbelief, grinning over his cup of tea. He looked at Kate. “On with it then, what’d you bring me?”

Anthony crossed his arms. “You do know we were on a honeymoon, not a scavenger hunt, right?”

Benedict laughed. “I’m honestly surprised you had any time for shopping.” His eyes sparkled teasingly at his older brother. “Though I suppose Kate needed a break from you occasionally.”

Kate laughed as Anthony scowled. She began pulling packages from the trunk and setting them on the table. “Alright, let’s see…for Hyacinth.”

She handed over a brightly wrapped bundle, which Hyacinth tore open with gleeful abandon.

“Ooh! This is beautiful,” she cried, waving the intricately painted fan dramatically. “I can practice flirting with my suitors.” She fluttered it before her face like a seasoned coquette.

“Flirting with your suitors?” Anthony said, his face pale. “Over my dead body.”

Hyacinth stuck her tongue out at him. Kate gave him a teasing nudge. “She’s going to be the death of you, you know.”

“She already is,” he grumbled, rubbing his temples.

Kate handed Gregory a slim box next, but Anthony intercepted it before it reached his brother’s eager hands.

“This was Kate’s idea,” Anthony said with a stern glance. “If you so much as think about using it foolishly, it’s mine until you marry.”

Gregory’s eyes gleamed as he unwrapped the package, revealing a shining hunting knife. He immediately brandished it, slicing the air.

“Put it away before you lose a finger,” Anthony barked, grabbing the knife and placing it back in the box. “We’ll talk safety first.”

Violet sighed. Kate looked at her mother-in-law apologetically as she handed her a small box. “Perhaps we’ll wait until he’s older. Here. For you.”

Inside was a delicate brooch, shaped like a flower with eight tiny sapphire stones.

“Kate thought you’d like that it has eight petals," Anthony said, pointing over his mother's shoulder. "One for each of your children.”

“How lovely,” Violet murmured, touched. She looked between Anthony and Kate with warmth in her eyes. “Though next time, make it ten. You and Simon are mine now, too,” she laughed.

Kate chuckled softly and hugged her tightly. Anthony reached into the trunk and handed Francesca a bundle next—a stack of sheet music tied in ribbon.

“Franny, for you,” he said, handing it to his sister. “Perhaps you could play one for us now.”

She grinned as she accepted the bundle from him. She flipped through it enthusiastically. “Did you pick up a song for me in every country?”

Kate smiled. “Almost. We found most of those at a bazaar in Morocco.”

Francesca selected a piece and moved to the harpsichord, gently plucking out the new tune before her with a wide grin on her face.

Next, Kate handed Colin a thick leather-bound notebook. “For your travel adventures,” she said.

Colin grinned, running his fingers over the cover as if it were a treasure. “This might be my favorite thing I own.”

Benedict received a leather roll for his art supplies, and Eloise two new books.

“I read them both first,” Kate admitted. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Finally,” Eloise said with mock relief, clutching the books to her chest. “An intelligent woman in the family.”

Francesca shot her sister a sharp look, slamming her hands on the harpsichord keys.

“I meant another one!” Eloise said hastily, raising her hands in surrender. “Perhaps we should start a book club.”

Kate laughed. “I would love to, but I don’t know how much time I’ll have for reading. I understand we are to host two balls this season? However will I handle such a task?” She rolled her eyes, eliciting a chuckle from Eloise.

Suddenly, Gregory let out a yelp, holding up his hand as a bright streak of blood ran down his finger.

Anthony was across the room in two strides. “Tell me you didn’t cut yourself with that knife,” he demanded, his voice sharp with concern.

Gregory’s face was nearly as red as the blood on his finger. “It’s a paper cut,” he mumbled, setting aside Francesca’s sheet music and looking towards the floor.

For a beat, there was stunned silence. Then Hyacinth burst into laughter, doubling over on the carpet. “You can't even be trusted with paper!”

Benedict leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Well, that’s one way to ensure Anthony takes back the knife.”

Gregory’s face burned with humiliation. “I can be trusted,” he said through gritted teeth. “It was the sheet music!” He glared at Francesca, as though she was somehow to blame.

Anthony sighed, rubbing his temple as if the scene physically pained him. He reached into his coat pocket for a handkerchief, only to pause when he realized it was the one Kate embroidered for him. Smiling to himself, he tucked it back and jabbed Benedict in the ribs. “Give him yours.”

With exaggerated reluctance, Benedict pulled a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it to Gregory. “Try not to injure yourself again before supper.”

Gregory groaned, mortified, as Hyacinth rolled on the floor, clutching her stomach with laughter. “You’ll never live this down,” she gasped between fits of giggles.

“The dowager house offer still stands,” Violet said, smiling sympathetically at Kate. Anthony locked eyes with Kate and nodded encouragingly.

Kate laughed, letting Anthony wrap his arms around her waist. “Tempting,” she said. “But I think I prefer a bit of chaos.”

Anthony grumbled and Kate leaned into him, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle. “It’s good practice,” she whispered, her voice low and intimate. “For when our own little troublemakers arrive.”

His expression softened and he caught her lips in a kiss that made the noise of the drawing room fade far, far away.

Chapter Text

The drawing room at Bridgerton House buzzed with familiar warmth and chaos. Violet presided gracefully over tea while Benedict regaled the room with exaggerated tales. Eloise was deep in debate with Colin, their voices rising and falling in sharp bursts of sibling rivalry. Francesca sat quietly by the window, offering the occasional sharp-witted remark that went unnoticed by everyone except Kate, who caught her eye and smiled in amusement.

Kate sat beside Anthony on the settee, teacup delicately balanced in her hand. For the first fifteen minutes, her husband had been the picture of propriety—chatting lightly with Violet, offering a witty retort to one of Colin’s more nonsensical observations, and keeping a respectable distance between their bodies.

But then… something shifted.

Kate wasn’t entirely sure when it happened, but at some point, Anthony had stopped participating in the conversation. Instead, he leaned slightly closer to her, his thigh brushing against hers, his head tilted subtly in her direction.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” he murmured under his breath, his voice pitched low enough for only her to hear.

Kate turned slightly, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes were warm, sharp with intent, and very focused on her mouth.

“Very much so,” she said softly, trying to ignore the way his thumb brushed against the bare skin of her wrist as he reached to adjust the cuff of her sleeve.

“Good,” he said, his voice like honey over gravel. “Because I’m not.”

Kate blinked. “What?”

“I’m not enjoying myself at all.”

She raised a brow. “You seem perfectly entertained.”

“I’m faking it,” Anthony said, still watching her lips. “You see, it’s rather difficult to focus on conversation when my wife is sitting so close, looking so…distractingly lovely.”

Kate felt her cheeks heat, and she gave him a warning look. “Anthony.”

He grinned wolfishly, leaning closer. “You smell divine, by the way. Is that your perfume? Or something…sweeter?”

“Anthony!” she hissed, her voice still too quiet for anyone to notice.

But Anthony was undeterred. He shifted closer—almost imperceptibly—but his thigh pressed more firmly against hers, and she felt his hand rest lightly on the back of the settee, fingers dangerously close to her bare shoulder.

She tried to focus on Violet, who was speaking about some upcoming event, but Anthony sighed dramatically beside her, drawing attention from both Colin and Eloise, who paused mid-rant to glance at him.

“Is something the matter, Anthony?” Violet asked, giving her son a sharp look over her teacup.

Anthony straightened, flashing a charming smile. “Not at all, Mother. Please, continue.”

Violet frowned faintly before turning her attention back to the conversation.

Kate turned her head slightly and glared at him. “Stop it,” she whispered fiercely.

“Stop what?” Anthony replied innocently, though his fingers had crept slightly closer to her neck, grazing bare skin.

Kate’s breath hitched. “This. Whatever it is you’re doing.”

Anthony’s lips curved into a slow smile, his voice dropping to a velvet murmur. “I’m simply admiring my wife. Is that such a crime?”

“Yes,” she bit out, her cheeks flaming. “When we’re with family, yes, it absolutely is.”

He leaned in further, his mouth now so close to her ear that she felt the heat of his breath as he said, “Then you should probably stop looking at me like that, darling. You’re giving me ideas.”

“Anthony!”

The hissed warning was enough to draw Benedict’s attention, who raised a brow and smirked. Eloise, sharp-eyed as always, muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, he’s utterly hopeless.

“Mother,” Anthony said suddenly, too loudly, making everyone glance his way. “I need to steal Kate for a moment.”

Violet blinked. “Steal her? Whatever for?”

“Something important,” Anthony said with a straight face. “Utterly urgent, in fact.”

Kate let out a strangled sound, clutching her teacup like it was her last defense. “Anthony, we are in the middle of tea!”

“It’s a matter of great significance,” Anthony insisted, already rising to his feet. “Come along, Kate.”

Kate had no choice but to set her teacup down and follow as he pulled her—firmly but gently—from the settee.

“Anthony Bridgerton!” she seethed under her breath as he ushered her out of the drawing room and into the hallway. “You are not subtle!”

“Subtlety is overrated,” Anthony said breezily as he guided her up the stairs, two steps at a time.

“They know,” Kate said, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Your entire family knows exactly what you’re up to!”

Anthony grinned down at her. “They’re very clever. What can I say?”

She smacked his arm lightly. “You are the Viscount, Anthony. You’re supposed to be dignified. Reserved!”

He stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs, turning to face her. His hand reached up, thumb brushing against her cheek with disarming tenderness.

“Kate,” he said softly. “I’ve had you all to myself for months. No family interruptions, no obligations, just us. And now we’re back here, and suddenly, I’m expected to sit across from you, perfectly civil, while you’re sitting so close, looking so lovely, smelling so sweet, and not touch you? It’s agony.”

Her heart softened at his honesty, at the slight edge of vulnerability in his voice.

She exhaled, her hand coming up to rest against his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said, his lips quirking into a grin.

Before she could retort, he opened the door to their bedroom, pulled her inside, and shut it firmly behind them.

The tea—and their family—could wait.

Chapter Text

The Bridgerton dining room was a lively scene—warm candlelight casting a golden glow over porcelain plates and crystal glasses, the hum of easy conversation weaving through the clink of silverware. At one end of the long mahogany table sat Anthony, shoulders squared, brow furrowed, and very clearly brooding. At the opposite end sat Kate, radiant as ever, her laughter ringing softly as she chatted with Eloise.

Anthony stabbed at his mutton with the kind of concentration one might reserve for a duel.

Benedict, seated to Anthony’s left, leaned back in his chair and quirked an eyebrow. “Anthony, I do believe it’s already dead. Is something bothering you, brother?”

Anthony shot his brother a sharp look before stabbing his fork into his dinner. “I’m perfectly content, Benedict.”

Colin, never one to miss an opportunity, chimed in from across the table. “Benedict, look at him—eyes downcast, shoulders sagging. He’s longing. It’s tragic, really.”

Kate, catching the tail end of Colin’s remark, turned her head toward Anthony with a teasing smile. “Are you brooding again, dearest?” she called softly across the table.

Anthony’s scowl eased slightly as he met her gaze, but the furrow between his brows remained. “This arrangement is absurd,” he declared, setting down his fork with dramatic emphasis. “We’re dining with family, not foreign dignitaries. Why must my wife sit all the way over there while I’m stuck here?”

Colin leaned forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Oh yes, poor Anthony. Deprived of holding his wife’s hand under the table and whispering sweet nothings into her ear during the soup course.”

Benedict joined in with mock seriousness. “Truly, it’s a wonder he hasn’t fainted from the sheer deprivation.”

Colin clutched at his chest dramatically. “Oh, the tragedy! The mighty viscount, felled by less than three meters' distance!”

“Cut down in his prime,” Benedict added mournfully, shaking his head.

Kate pressed her lips together, clearly suppressing a laugh, while Eloise muttered something about “nauseating displays of devotion.”

Anthony ignored them, his attention locked on Kate. “Well? Do you not agree, Kate? This table is insufferably long.”

Kate tilted her head, her expression playful. “It is rather long,” she agreed, earning mock-gasps from Colin and Benedict.

“Et tu, Kate?” Colin clutched dramatically at his cravat, feigning betrayal. “And here I thought you were one of us!”

“Oh, leave them alone, Colin,” Benedict said, waving a hand. “Can’t you see? Our dear brother is pining.”

“I am not pining,” Anthony said stiffly.

“Oh, but you are,” Benedict replied, smirking. “You’re positively wilting.”

Colin nodded enthusiastically. “Wilting like a flower left in the sun too long.”

Violet cleared her throat, but her lips were twitching. “Boys, that’s enough.”

Anthony exhaled heavily, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Laugh all you want. I don’t care. I still think this is ridiculous.”

“Oh, it’s not the seating arrangement that’s ridiculous,” Benedict said slyly. “It’s the two of you.”

Anthony arched an eyebrow. “And what, precisely, does that mean?”

Benedict smirked and gestured vaguely between the two ends of the table. “You and Kate sitting next to each other? At dinner? Please. You wouldn’t make it through the grace, let alone the soup.”

Kate let out an unladylike snort, which she quickly covered with her hand, while Eloise rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they stayed in her head.

Kate, cheeks flushed from laughter, finally managed to regain her voice. “You’re both being utterly ridiculous. Anthony and I would be perfectly well-behaved if we were seated together.”

Anthony straightened up and smirked. “Precisely.”

“Oh please,” Benedict said with a wave of his hand. “I give you five minutes before someone drops a fork and discovers you’re…” he paused, looking around the table at Gregory’s uncomfortable face and Violet’s stern warning of an expression, “...holding hands under the table.”

Anthony exhaled sharply, shaking his head at his brother. “You are insufferable.”

Kate caught his eye from across the table, her smile softening into something private and warm. “Don’t mind them, my love,” she said, her voice carrying across the expanse. “We’ll survive this tragic separation somehow.”

The teasing died down as Violet interjected with a gentle reminder for the boys to focus on their meal, and conversation shifted to Colin’s latest misadventure. But every so often, Anthony’s gaze drifted to Kate at the far end of the table, and each time, she was already looking back at him with a smile.

Chapter Text

The steady clip-clop of hooves echoed against the cobbled road, punctuated by the occasional creak of the carriage as it rolled steadily towards Dover. Outside, the gray winter sky stretched endlessly, but inside, the small space was warm and golden with the soft glow of afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

Kate leaned against the carriage window, her forehead lightly pressed to the cold glass as the frost-kissed landscape rolled by. Newton, curled stubbornly between her and Anthony, let out a tiny, self-satisfied sigh in his sleep.

“I knew we shouldn’t have let him think the carriage seat was his throne,” Anthony said, voice laced with mock disapproval as he tried—and failed—to nudge the corgi out of his lap with one knee.

Kate turned away from the window, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s a Bridgerton now, Anthony. Entitlement comes with the name, does it not?”

Anthony smirked. “Yes, well, Newton acted like this long before he adopted the title.”

At the sound of his name, Newton’s ears twitched, but he refused to move.

Kate laughed softly, settling back into the seat and letting her head fall gently against Anthony’s shoulder. “You’d miss him terribly if he weren’t here.”

Anthony huffed, but his arm automatically came up to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “I wouldn’t go that far. I would have enjoyed at least some time alone with my wife before we see your family.”

Kate laughed again, her voice soft and melodic in the intimate confines of the carriage. They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the gentle sway of the carriage and the rhythmic sound of hooves striking stone.

After a few minutes, Anthony spoke again, his voice quieter, more thoughtful. “I wrote to Arnold and Helene.”

Kate lifted her head slightly to look at him, her brows rising with interest. “You did?”

He nodded. “They invited us to stay with them when we pass through their town.”

Kate’s face lit up with excitement, her smile wide and unguarded. “Oh, Anthony, that’s wonderful! I adored them both when we met them last summer.”

Anthony smiled down at her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “I thought you’d be pleased. They’re eager to see us again, especially you.”

Kate nestled closer into his side, her gloved hand resting over his chest. “How long will we stay?”

Anthony hesitated for a moment before replying. “Only a day or two.”

Kate frowned slightly and tilted her head to look at him. “You sound hesitant.”

Anthony let out a low sigh, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her shoulder. “I almost declined their invitation.”

“Why?” Kate asked softly, her brows knitting together.

Anthony’s gaze met hers, earnest and unguarded. “Because this is our last chance, Kate. Just the two of us, alone. Once we reach Berlin, we’ll be with your family, and then Mary will be traveling back to London with us. After that, our lives will be filled with dinners, balls, responsibilities. I—I wanted to keep you to myself a little longer.”

Kate’s expression softened, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “Oh, Anthony.”

Her fingers brushed his jaw, and he turned his face slightly to press a kiss into her palm. “I know it’s selfish,” he murmured against her hand.

“It isn’t selfish at all,” she replied. “It’s…it’s lovely. And honest. But I’m glad you accepted their invitation. I think a visit with friends will be good for us both.”

Anthony nodded, though his lips pressed into a slight line of resignation. “You’re right, of course. You always are.”

Kate grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder once more. “I’ll remind you of that the next time you doubt me.”

Anthony chuckled softly, his arm tightening around her. “You always do.”

The carriage rolled on, the peaceful silence returning. Outside, the wintry countryside stretched wide and still under the pale light of the February sky. Inside, wrapped in each other’s warmth, Kate and Anthony let the world fall away for a while longer.

Chapter Text

The warm glow of the dining room candles flickered across the richly set table as laughter echoed off the walls. The scent of roasted meats, herbs, and wine still hung in the air, but it was nothing compared to the easy, joyful company around it.

Kate’s cheeks were flushed with both wine and happiness as she shared a look with Anthony, who sat beside her, a glass of deep red Bordeaux lazily turning in his hand. Across the table, Arnold had an arm slung around his wife Helene’s shoulders, his grin wide and merry. Helene, her blonde curls escaping her hairpins, giggled at something he murmured in her ear, swatting at his chest before lifting her own glass.

“To old friends and unexpected visits,” Helene declared, her French accent lilting with cheer. “And to you both for bringing the spark of England back to us!”

“To good company,” Arnold added, his free hand reaching for the wine bottle to refill everyone’s glasses, though none had gone empty for long.

Kate raised her glass, laughing. “And to a meal I shall dream about for weeks to come.”

“And a wine that may be your undoing by morning,” Anthony quipped, smirking at her over the rim of his glass.

Kate shot him a look but couldn’t suppress her grin. “I seem to remember you insisting we share that third bottle.”

Arnold snorted. “We cannot allow travelers to escape France without indulgence. It would be uncivilized.”

Helene, leaning into Arnold’s embrace, looked at Anthony and Kate with a conspiratorial gleam. “The French believe wine opens the heart—and perhaps more.” Her fingers danced along Arnold’s arm as she spoke, earning her a very pleased smile from her husband.

Kate felt her cheeks warm further as Arnold murmured something low to Helene that made her giggle again, their faces close, their affection suddenly much more… intimate. Anthony cleared his throat, glancing at Kate with a raised eyebrow as if to say, Are we still here?

Kate bit her lip, fighting the urge to laugh. “Perhaps we should move to the parlor?” she suggested lightly.

“Games!” Arnold exclaimed, already rising and tugging Helene with him. “We have something for guests like you—simple but dangerous with wine.”

The parlor was cozier than the dining room, with a low fire crackling in the hearth and a deck of cards spread out on a table between them. The game—one which required increasingly silly forfeits for poor hands—had everyone in stitches. Anthony was terrible at it, much to Kate’s delight, and after his third loss, she was nearly doubled over in laughter as he recited a very poor French poem Arnold had demanded.

Arnold and Helene, however, seemed to grow increasingly distracted from the game. Helene nestled into her husband’s lap at some point, her fingers tracing his collar lazily, while Arnold abandoned his cards entirely in favor of murmuring compliments into her ear.

Kate glanced at Anthony again, her lips twitching with amusement as the air grew more intimate. Finally, Helene sighed, looking barely interested in their dwindling attempt to play. “We must call it a night,” she said dramatically, her smile far too knowing.

“Yes,” Arnold agreed, his voice low as his hand brushed up Helene’s arm. “It’s very late.”

Kate rose quickly, tugging Anthony with her. “Indeed,” she said, cheeks burning. “Thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

Anthony, clearly suppressing a smirk, said his goodnights, and they made a hasty retreat toward their guest room, muffled laughter escaping as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Did you see them?” Kate whispered as Anthony began pulling at his cravat, amusement lighting her face.

“I thought Helene was going to toss the cards onto the fire just to get us to leave,” Anthony replied, shaking his head as he undid his waistcoat.

Kate giggled, unfastening the pins from her hair. “In a way it’s quite sweet.”

Anthony’s brow raised in surprise. “Sweet?”

“It’s nice that they’re still so in love after being together for so long,” she said. “I hope we can say the same after seven years married.”

Anthony stepped closer, his hands sliding around her waist as he tugged her gently into him. “I think that’s a very strong possibility,” he murmured against her ear, his voice dropping into that low, teasing register.

Kate tilted her head, meeting his gaze, her smile softening as he kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck. She squealed as he spun her, pressing her gently against the door. She turned, laughing breathlessly. “Anthony—!”

Kate’s breath caught in her throat as a muffled moan floated through the thin wall, unmistakably Helene’s voice, sharp with pleasure. Anthony froze, his lips still pressed against the curve of her neck, his breath warm and uneven against her skin.

“Oh… oh no,” Kate whispered, her face flushing crimson as her hands flew up to cover her mouth. She turned wide eyes to Anthony, whose expression teetered somewhere between amused and stunned.

“Well,” Anthony said, his voice low and sardonic as he leaned his forehead briefly against hers. “It seems Helene and Arnold are enjoying their evening.”

Another sound—a deep, gravelly groan—filtered through the wall, unmistakably Arnold’s. Kate squeezed her eyes shut as if she could will herself into the floorboards. “This is mortifying,” she whispered.

Anthony pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to tilt her chin so she had to meet his gaze. His lips twitched in amusement, but there was something else there too—something darker, more intense, lingering just beneath the surface.

“We could stop listening,” he suggested softly, his voice dropping to a velvet murmur. “We could… focus on other things.”

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, and Kate’s stomach tightened. But another sharp sound—a breathless cry from Helene—pierced the air between them, and Kate let out a startled laugh, smothering it with her hands.

“Anthony, I—this is—” She broke off as her husband leaned in, his lips grazing her ear.

“Do they know how thin the walls are?” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine.

“Obviously not,” she said, her voice trembling slightly—not from embarrassment anymore, but from the way his hands had slid to her waist, fingers curling against the fabric of her gown.

Another sound came—louder this time—and Kate instinctively clutched Anthony’s shoulders, burying her face against his chest. But even as embarrassment flooded her, something else bubbled up alongside it—a thrill, sharp and undeniable, twisting low in her belly.

Anthony felt it too. She could see it in his eyes when she looked up at him—the way his pupils were blown wide, the way his breath came faster, shallower. The intimacy of it—the forbidden edge of hearing someone else’s pleasure while standing in the shadows of their own—was intoxicating.

Anthony leaned down, his lips brushing over her temple. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my darling wife?”

Kate’s face flamed, but there was a spark of excitement in her chest, mingling with the nerves. “Anthony… we can’t… they’ll hear…”

“Then,” he said, lowering his mouth to her ear, his voice a deep rumble, “we’ll have to be very quiet, won’t we?”

Her breath hitched at the promise threaded through his words. She should have protested, should have stepped away—but instead, her fingers tightened in his shirt, pulling him closer.

Anthony caught her mouth in a searing kiss, his hands firm against her hips as he guided her back toward the bed. His hands made quick work of the buttons and ties holding her gown together,. Kate’s own hands were less practiced but equally determined as she tugged at his cravat, his waistcoat, pushing away layer after layer until there was nothing left between them but the heat of their bodies.

They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter muffled against each other’s mouths. Anthony braced himself over her, his face hovering inches from hers as he whispered, “Remember, we must be quiet.”

Kate’s cheeks flushed, her heart hammering against her ribs as she bit her lip and nodded. But when Anthony’s hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns, a soft gasp escaped her before she could stop it.

His mouth descended on hers again, swallowing her sounds, silencing her with deep, consuming kisses as his touch grew more insistent. The faint sounds from the neighboring room—another muffled moan, another low growl of Arnold’s voice—only heightened every sensation, every touch, every breath.

Kate’s hands clutched at Anthony’s back, her nails biting into his shoulders as he finally joined their bodies, moving with deliberate, aching slowness. Anthony pressed his forehead against hers, his breath ragged. “You’re incredible,” he murmured.

Kate’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting around his name—just barely a whisper, but enough to make him groan softly in response. He caught her mouth again, silencing her as their rhythm quickened, as the tension between them coiled tighter and tighter.

When they finally tumbled over the edge together, Kate buried her face against Anthony’s neck to muffle her cry, her whole body trembling in his arms. Anthony held her tightly, his own breath shuddering against her skin as he pressed soft, lingering kisses along her jaw and temple.

For a long while, neither of them moved. The sounds from the neighboring room had faded now, replaced by the distant crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

Anthony finally rolled onto his side, pulling Kate against his chest and tucking her head beneath his chin. They were quiet, their breathing slowly evening out, the weight of their sated desire settling over them like a heavy blanket.

Chapter Text

The inn’s small dining room was dimly lit by flickering candles and a crackling fire in the hearth. Kate leaned back in her chair, her head tilted toward Anthony with a slightly lopsided smile.

“Anthony,” she said, her voice soft and lilting, the faintest slur creeping into her words. “Are you… quite sure you need another glass of wine?”

Across the small table, Anthony swirled the dark red liquid in his glass, his brown eyes practically glowing in the firelight as they remained locked on her face. Or more accurately—her lips. “Oh, I’m absolutely sure, my love,” he replied, his voice a touch deeper than usual, lazy with indulgence. “After all, we are in France. It would be an insult to the nation if we didn’t enjoy every last drop of their wine.”

Kate snorted a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “I believe we’ve done our duty admirably, then.”

Anthony grinned, teeth flashing, and leaned forward across the small table, his voice dropping low. “Are you saying I should stop drinking and turn my attention elsewhere, Lady Bridgerton?”

Kate’s cheeks flushed instantly, and she reached for her own glass of wine, bringing it to her lips with an air of forced nonchalance. “You’re already… attentive enough.”

Anthony’s eyes dragged slowly down her figure before returning to her face, his expression downright predatory. “You’re exquisite when you blush, Kate. Have I told you that today?”

“Only four times,” she said dryly, though her smile was warm.

“Only four? Unacceptable,” Anthony declared dramatically, setting his glass down with a faint clink and rising from his chair. In two steps, he was beside her, his large frame blocking the light of the fire as he knelt beside her chair.

“Anthony!” she hissed, though her laughter betrayed her protest. “What are you doing? Sit down before someone sees!”

“They’ve all gone to bed, darling. We’re utterly alone. Just you… and me… and this incredibly revealing neckline on your dress.”

Kate’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “Anthony Bridgerton!”

“Yes, my love?” His grin was wicked as his fingers toyed lightly with the ribbon at her neckline. “You cannot wear something like this and expect me to behave myself. It’s simply not fair.”

“It’s perfectly respectable!”

“Oh, yes, respectable,” Anthony said, his lips curving as his fingers brushed the exposed skin just above her décolletage. “Respectable… and absolutely criminal.”

Kate swatted at his hand, though her cheeks were now flushed a lovely shade of pink, and her eyes sparkled with amusement and something warmer. “You are ridiculous.”

“And you,” Anthony said, his voice softening as he leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing hers, “are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Kate’s breath hitched, her wine glass trembling slightly in her hand before she set it down on the table. “I believe you are in your cups, my love.”

“And you are beautiful,” Anthony countered, inching even closer. “And clever. And maddeningly sharp-tongued. And impossibly kind. And currently too far away from me.”

Kate laughed, her forehead dropping briefly against his as she shook her head. “You have absolutely lost all sense of subtlety.”

“Darling,” Anthony said, tilting his head until his nose brushed against hers. “I lost my subtlety the moment I married you. Perhaps even before.”

His lips hovered over hers, his breath warm with wine and longing. Kate let out a breathless laugh before closing the tiny gap and pressing her mouth against his.

Anthony groaned into the kiss, one hand coming up to cradle her face while the other rested lightly on her knee. The kiss deepened—messy, wine-sweet, and utterly unrestrained.

When they finally parted, Anthony’s thumb brushed against her bottom lip, his gaze locked onto her mouth with such intensity that Kate’s breath caught in her throat. He leaned back in, kissing her with a fervor that began to unravel something within her. His lips trailed down her neck, his tongue dipping into the crevice between her breasts.

Kate glanced around the empty dining room, her pulse quickening. “Anthony, we can’t—”

“Yes, we can,” he said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed hot fire against her skin. “We can do anything we please.”

She pushed him away from her, laughing at his dramatic disappointed look. “We can,” she whispered teasingly. “But let’s go back to our room first.”

He grinned, reaching for her hand as he stood. She allowed him to lead her out of the dining room and up the narrow wooden staircase, their footsteps muffled by the creaky old floorboards. Anthony kept glancing back at her over his shoulder, his smile boyish and roguish all at once, and Kate felt her heart squeeze in her chest at the sheer joy in his expression.

When they reached their room, Anthony opened the door and pulled her inside, shutting it firmly behind them.

The instant the door clicked shut, Kate was pressed against it, Anthony’s hands braced on either side of her head as he kissed her again—fierce, desperate, and devastatingly tender.

“I believe,” he murmured between kisses, his lips ghosting over her jawline, “you said I can do whatever I please.”

Kate laughed between breathless gasps as he began pulling at the ties of her dress with drink-clumsy fingers. He groaned in frustration as he struggled with the intricate lacing of the gown, and she pushed him back towards the bed.

“Just leave it on,” she murmured, sitting and pulling up her skirts for him. “I need you now.”

He made a choking groan and pushed her down on the bed. “No. I must see you naked.”

“Anthony,” she gasped. He began pulling indelicately at the ribbons at the front of her dress, his usually patient hands now grasping and frustrated.

“These damn complicated gowns,” he muttered. He paused, looking up at her. “How much do you like this dress?”

“What?”

“This dress. Is it one of your favorites?”

Kate blinked, confused by his question. “No, it’s not—I mean, it’s lovely, but—”

Her stammering was interrupted by the force of Anthony ripping her gown. She gasped, and Anthony pulled it off before turning her over and tugging at her corset strings. He pressed hot kisses to her back as he freed her from her constraints.

His hands were rough but his touch was reverent as he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her taut nipples. His breath came hot and heavy as he lowered his head, his mouth replacing his hands as he worshipped her with lips and tongue.

“Anthony,” Kate gasped, her head falling back against the plush pillows. Her hands found his dark hair, threading through it and holding him close as he lavished attention on her.

He groaned into her skin, the sound vibrating through her and making her shudder beneath him. “You taste like wine,” he murmured between kisses. “Sweet and intoxicating. I could lose myself here forever.”

His mouth moved lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, his teeth grazing lightly against her skin. Every touch left her trembling, her body arching toward him with silent pleas for more. He paused, his head lifting slightly so he could look up at her. His hair was mussed, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes—oh, his eyes—were molten with desire.

“Kate,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

Her breath caught as she reached down to cup his face in her hands. “I always want you, Anthony. Always.”

Anthony paused for a moment, his gaze raking over her bare body sprawled before him. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he said, his voice almost a prayer.

Kate felt the heat rush to her cheeks, but before she could shy away or make some flippant retort, Anthony was on her again. His mouth captured hers in a searing kiss, their bodies pressing flush together as he settled between her thighs.

His weight was delicious, grounding her even as every nerve in her body felt like it was aflame. Kate wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and Anthony let out a guttural groan against her mouth.

“You’re mine,” he said against her lips, his forehead pressed against hers as he pushed himself into her with slow, steady thrusts. “All mine.”

Kate’s breath hitched, her hands gripping his shoulders as she gasped his name.

Anthony froze, buried deep within her, his breath ragged as he fought for control. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling but sure. “More than all right. Please, Anthony… don’t stop.”

And he didn’t.

Their movements were messy, uncoordinated, and utterly desperate—fueled by wine and love and the sheer, overwhelming need to be closer.

Anthony’s mouth was everywhere—her lips, her neck, her collarbone—his hands gripping her hips like she might slip away if he let go. Kate arched beneath him, meeting each of his thrusts with her own, their bodies moving in a rhythm that was chaotic and perfect all at once.

“You’re mine, Kate,” Anthony groaned again, his voice breaking on her name as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “My wife. My love. Mine.”

Kate’s heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in his voice, her hands stroking his back as she murmured against his ear. “Yes, Anthony. I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

When the wave finally crashed over them, it came with a force that left them both gasping, clinging to each other as though they might otherwise shatter into pieces. Anthony collapsed against her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His weight was heavy, but Kate welcomed it, her arms wrapping tightly around him.

For several long moments, neither of them spoke. The only sounds in the room were their shared breaths and the faint crackle of the fire. Finally, Anthony lifted his head, his face hovering above hers. His hair was wild, his lips kiss-bruised, and his smile was soft and content. “I may be a little drunk,” he said, his voice hoarse, “but I’m fairly certain that was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

Kate laughed, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “It was certainly one of your more enthusiastic ones.” She paused, looking at her torn gown on the floor. “I believe you owe me a new dress, though.”

Anthony grinned sheepishly and pressed a gentle kiss to her nose before rolling onto his side, pulling her with him so they were tangled together beneath the blankets.

Chapter Text

The winter sun hung low in the sky, casting pale golden light over the sprawling public gardens where Kate and Anthony were out for a stroll with Newton. Melting frost clung to the edges of the hedgerows, glittering like scattered diamonds. The pathways buzzed with visitors—families, couples, and groups of friends meandering through the neatly trimmed rows of the hedge maze.

Kate glanced over her shoulder at Anthony, her gloved hands clasped behind her back, eyes dancing with mischief. Newton trotted at her heels, his ears perked and tail wagging in delight. “Are you certain you want to follow us into the maze, my love?”

Anthony smirked, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he followed her. “I’m not about to let you wander off alone. Who knows what sort of trouble you and that dog might stir up?”

Kate turned slightly, her smile wide and teasing. “Perhaps it’s you who’ll find yourself in trouble.”

Before he could reply, she darted into the entrance of the hedge maze, her laughter trailing behind her like a ribbon on the wind. Newton barked excitedly and charged after her, his little paws scrabbling for purchase on the gravel as he followed his mistress into the winding pathways.

“Kate!” Anthony called, already grinning as he lengthened his stride and followed them into the narrow, twisting paths.

The hedges loomed tall, dense, and shadowed, muting the sounds of the world outside. Every turn led Anthony deeper into the maze, the sound of Kate’s soft laughter and Newton’s eager barks echoing faintly ahead of him.

“You’re terrible at hiding, you know,” he called, turning another corner.

“You’ve yet to find me!” Kate’s voice floated back to him, playful and distant.

Anthony’s grin widened as he followed the sound of her voice—and Newton’s increasingly frantic barks. The little corgi wasn’t exactly a master of stealth.

Finally, he rounded a corner and stumbled into a quiet dead-end tucked against the farthest wall of the garden. There, nestled in a cozy alcove where the hedges arched above to create a natural canopy, stood Kate.

She leaned lightly against the stone wall, cheeks pink from the cold and her brief sprint, her hair tousled where it peeked out from her bonnet. At her feet, Newton barked once more before plopping down with an air of triumph, his stubby tail wagging as though he’d won a great prize.

“Well,” she said breathlessly, her voice light with laughter, “you’ve caught us. What are you going to do with me now, my love?”

Anthony’s breath caught as he stared at her, the golden light filtering through the hedges casting her face in soft shadows. Slowly, he stepped forward, his gloved hand rising to cup her cheek.

“God, Kate,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Kate’s smile softened, her own gloved hand coming up to rest over his. “I think I have some idea.”

Anthony leaned down and kissed her, firm and desperate, as if the weight of his love for her couldn’t be contained in any other way. Kate melted into him, her arms looping around his neck as she pressed herself closer, letting him pull her into his orbit. The air around them stilled, the world narrowing until there was only the heat of his mouth on hers, the press of his body against her own, and the frantic beat of their shared heartbeat.

Newton sniffed along the edge of the hedges, his ears twitching as if he’d caught wind of something far more interesting than his owners' embrace.

Anthony’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer still as the kiss deepened. But it wasn’t enough—not nearly enough. He fumbled with the ties of her cloak, letting it fall to the frost-dusted ground. His gloved fingers bunched the heavy layers of her skirts, gathering them with an urgency that made Kate gasp softly into his mouth.

Anthony pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against hers. His breath came in sharp bursts, visible in the cool air. “We shouldn’t,” he said hoarsely, his voice trembling slightly. “Not here.”

Kate’s lips were swollen from his kiss, her dark eyes heavy with want as she looked up at him. “Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his hands still tangled in her skirts. “Tell me to stop, Kate.”

She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t you dare.”

It was all the permission he needed.

Anthony kissed her again, more desperate this time, as he pressed her gently against the cool stone wall. Kate’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her soft sighs swallowed by his mouth. For a long, breathless moment, all was forgotten under the heat of their bodies.

But then—Newton barked. Loudly. It was followed immediately by the unmistakable sound of tiny paws scrambling away at speed.

Kate broke away, her eyes wide. “Oh no.”

Anthony let out a groan, his forehead dropping to rest briefly against hers before he pulled back entirely. “That blasted dog.”

Newton barked again, the sound growing fainter.

“We should—” Kate began, pulling her cloak off the ground and fastening it around her neck again.

“Yes. Before he unravels the entire social fabric of this garden.” Anthony stepped back, running a hand down his face before grabbing Kate’s hand and tugging her down the path.

They hurried through the maze, calling for Newton as they turned corner after corner.

“Newton!” Kate called, her voice half-panicked, half-exasperated. “Come back here this instant!”

“Newton!” Anthony barked out, his voice sharper. “I swear, I will send that beast back home in his own carriage—”

They rounded another corner and found Newton at last, tail wagging furiously as he barked at a startled elderly couple who had been quietly enjoying a bench tucked away in the maze. The woman clutched her bonnet in one hand, her eyes wide, while the man gave Newton an incredulous look.

“Newton!” Kate exclaimed, swooping down to scoop the mischievous corgi into her arms. “You naughty little creature.”

Anthony approached the flustered couple with a sheepish expression. “My sincerest apologies. He’s usually—well, no, actually, he’s never well-behaved, but we try.”

The man let out a dry chuckle, and the woman gave Newton a wary glance before nodding graciously. “No harm done, my lord.”

As the couple disappeared down the maze path, Anthony turned back to Kate, his hands on his hips as he surveyed her holding the squirming Newton.

“I told you, Kate,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—Newton needs to be tethered in public places.”

Kate bit back a smile, raising one brow. “Oh, so you wish me to put a leash on the true lord of the house, do you?”

Anthony groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t encourage him.”

Kate laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained, as Newton barked happily in her arms. “Well, if Newton must be tethered, then surely it should be with the finest leather, gold buckles, and perhaps…his name engraved in delicate script. We can’t have him looking common, can we?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Next, you’ll be commissioning him a velvet cushion embroidered with his crest.”

Newton barked as if in agreement, making Kate laugh and Anthony groan in mock defeat.

Anthony groaned once more but couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto his face as he extended his hand to Kate. “Come on, Lady Bridgerton. Let’s get the true lord of the house back to the carriage before he demands a crown.”

Laughing together, they made their way out of the maze, Newton tucked securely in Kate’s arms, and Anthony’s hand wrapped firmly around her waist. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows over the hedges as the three of them disappeared back into the hum of the bustling gardens.

Chapter Text

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth of the small country inn, casting a soft amber glow over the room. Kate sat beside Anthony at the corner table, her fingers curled around the stem of her wine glass. The inn was modest but cozy, filled with the low hum of conversation from other travelers and the clatter of dishes being cleared.

And then there was her.

The woman stood by the bar, draped in an impossibly fine gown, her dark hair pinned in an elegant chignon. She was beautiful, confident, and clearly accustomed to turning heads. And, unfortunately, she had decided to set her sights firmly on Viscount Bridgerton.

She had made herself known at dinner, lingering near their table long enough to introduce herself—Madame Elise Chevalier, from Paris, she had purred—and asking Anthony if he’d found the French wine “as delightful as the company in France.” She’d ignored Kate entirely, directing her sultry smiles and languid glances at Anthony like a hawk eyeing its prey.

To his credit, Anthony had been polite but not overly encouraging, replying to her with the barest of courtesies and returning his attention to his wife. And yet, Kate couldn’t shake the slow simmer of irritation building in her chest.

Even now, as Anthony leaned back in his chair, casually swirling the wine in his glass, the woman was still watching him. Kate took another sip of her wine, pretending not to notice the blatant admiration Elise had for her husband. She forced her expression into neutrality, even as her fingers tightened imperceptibly around her glass.

“Kate,” Anthony said softly, drawing her attention back to him. His voice was edged with amusement, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She blinked, turning to him. “What?”

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve been staring daggers across the room for the past ten minutes.”

“I have not,” she said primly, taking another sip of wine.

“You have.” His tone was rich with amusement, his gaze twinkling as he leaned closer. “If looks could kill, Madame Chevalier would have been felled on the spot.”

Kate felt her cheeks warm, and she glanced away, feigning interest in the flickering fire. “She was being rude.”

“Oh?” Anthony leaned closer, his voice low, teasing. “I thought she was quite complimentary. What was it she said? Ah, yes—‘The English breed such fine gentlemen.’”

Kate shot him a sharp look, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare repeat her compliments.”

His smirk grew into something wicked. “Are you… jealous, Kate?”

“Of course not,” she huffed, though her cheeks flushed traitorously.

Anthony grinned as he set his glass down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.

“You are,” he said softly, his voice a purr of satisfaction. “My wife—the sharp-tongued, unflappable Kate Bridgerton—jealous of a passing glance from a woman we’ll never see again.”

“I am not jealous,” Kate said through gritted teeth, her cheeks now a rosy pink. “And it was more than a passing glance. She was practically undressing you with her eyes.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Kate scoffed. “Liar.”

Anthony laughed outright, his hand tightening slightly over hers. “It’s rather flattering, you know. Seeing you like this. All… possessive.”

Kate’s lips parted, but instead of responding, she drained the rest of her wine and stood abruptly. “We’re going to bed.”

Anthony raised a brow, standing as well. “Is this about avoiding Madame Chevalier, or punishing me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she replied, her voice cool as she swept past him, her skirts brushing against his legs.

The moment the door to their room closed behind them, Kate turned on her heel to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” she accused, her voice sharp but playful.

Anthony smirked, beginning to unbutton his waistcoat. “Ah, so you are jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Kate insisted, stalking toward him. Before he could respond, she grabbed the lapels of his waistcoat and pushed him against the wall. “You enjoyed it. Watching me bristle. Watching me—” She broke off with an exasperated huff.

Anthony blinked, momentarily stunned, before his smirk returned. “Kate,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “if you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not going to work.”

“Do you think this is funny?” she scolded, her voice low as she pressed closer, pinning him against the wood-paneled wall. “You’re provoking me on purpose.”

Anthony’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against her. “I won’t deny it,” he admitted. “You’re quite adorable when you’re territorial.”

Kate narrowed her eyes at him, though the fire building between them made it impossible to keep her façade for long. “Adorable, am I?”

“Mm-hm,” he murmured, leaning in so his lips nearly brushed hers. “I rather like knowing you’ll fight for me.”

Kate pressed herself against him, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “You are mine, Anthony Bridgerton. And I won’t have anyone thinking otherwise.”

Anthony groaned, his hands moving to grip her hips. “If this is what jealousy does to you, Kate, then I should make you jealous more often.”

Kate’s retort was cut off as Anthony kissed her—deeply, thoroughly, stealing the air from her lungs. His hands slid up her back, pulling her flush against him, and she melted into the kiss, her earlier irritation forgotten in the heat of his touch.

“Let there be no doubt, Kate,” he said, his voice rough, “you never need to be jealous. Not for a second. There isn’t a woman alive who could turn my head, not when I have you.”

Kate swallowed hard, her heart fluttering in her chest. “Good,” she said softly, her hands sliding up to rest against his chest.

Then, because she wasn’t about to let him have the last word, she smirked and leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear as she murmured, “Next time, Anthony, I’ll let her know exactly who you belong to.”

Anthony groaned, his hands tightening on her hips as he spun them around, pressing her back against the wall instead. “Careful, Kate,” he growled, his voice dark with promise. “If you keep saying things like that, we may not make it to the bed.” Kate grinned, her breath catching as his mouth claimed hers again.

Chapter Text

The soft light of dawn crept slowly through the thin curtains, painting the modest inn room in hues of gold and lavender. The fire in the hearth had long since died down, leaving behind faint trails of smoke and the scent of charred wood.

Kate stirred beneath the heavy quilt, her body enveloped in a pleasant ache, the kind born from a night spent tangled in Anthony's arms. Anthony lay beside her, still fast asleep, his bare chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, one arm thrown lazily across her waist.

For a moment, she allowed herself to simply be—to sink into the delicious stillness of the morning. With a soft smile playing on her lips, she reached out with one hand, tracing the faint ridge of his collarbone with her fingertip, letting it trail upward to brush lightly against the edge of his jaw. His stubble was rough beneath her touch, but the warmth of his skin felt impossibly soft. It was rare to see him so still, so utterly at ease. Most of the time, Anthony carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but here, in the quiet warmth of their shared space, he was at peace.

Her movement must have disturbed him, for Anthony shifted slightly, his arm tightening around her waist as he let out a low, sleepy hum. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice gravelly and thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” she whispered.

Anthony’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was gentle but lingering. When they parted, he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes half-lidded.

“I could stay here forever,” he said quietly.

Kate sighed contentedly, letting her head rest against his chest as he pulled her close again. “I don’t think I’d mind that.”

For a while, they simply lay there in silence, wrapped in each other and the golden glow of the morning. The faint sound of the river outside and the distant toll of a church bell were the only interruptions.

Eventually, Kate stirred, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “We should get up. If we linger too long, we’ll never leave this room.”

Anthony’s brow arched mischievously. “And that would be such a tragedy, wouldn’t it?”

Kate swatted at his chest, laughing softly. “Anthony.”

He caught her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Come now, let’s have breakfast brought up here. I’m not ready to share you with the world just yet.”

Kate hesitated for only a moment before nodding, her heart swelling at the boyish charm in his request. “Very well. But only because I don’t want to share you either.”

She slipped out of bed, her bare feet pressing against the cool wooden floor as she reached for the robe draped over the nearby chair. Newton, stretched in front of the dying fire, lazily raised his head to watch as she padded over to the small bell pull near the door, summoning breakfast with a gentle tug.

When she turned back, Anthony was propped up on one elbow, his tousled hair catching the morning light and turning it almost bronze. He was watching her with that soft, lazy smile she had come to adore—the one that made her feel as though she were the only person in the world who mattered.

“What?” she asked, a faint flush creeping up her neck under his unguarded gaze.

Anthony shook his head slowly, his smile deepening. “Nothing. Just… you.”

Kate’s cheeks warmed further as she climbed back into bed, settling against his side. Anthony wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, her head resting beneath his chin as his fingers traced light patterns along her spine.

They lay like that for some time, the minutes stretching out into a golden eternity, filled only with the faint chirp of birds outside the window and the occasional crackle of cooling embers. The world outside their door—the endless obligations, the expectations, the titles—felt a million miles away.

A soft knock at the door, preceded by Newton’s bark, brought a reluctant end to their stillness. Anthony sighed dramatically, the sound half-resigned, half-amused, as he disentangled himself from Kate’s embrace and crossed the room to retrieve the breakfast tray.

When he returned, they nestled back into the bed, the tray resting between them, filled with warm bread, a pot of hot tea, and freshly cooked eggs. Anthony pulled the quilt up around their shoulders, enveloping them in a warm cocoon as they picked at their food leisurely.

Kate took a small bite of egg and immediately wrinkled her nose, setting her fork down. “Something about these tastes… off,” she murmured, pushing the plate away.

Anthony glanced at her plate, then at his own. He speared a bite with his fork, chewing thoughtfully. “They taste fine to me,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Kate shrugged, reaching for a slice of bread instead. “Perhaps I’m just not in the mood for eggs today.” She smiled faintly, brushing off her own unease as she spread jam over the bread.

Anthony didn’t press further, though his gaze lingered on her for a moment before he leaned back against the pillows with his tea. “Kate,” he began, brushing a thumb lightly over the back of her hand, “what if we stayed, right here, just for today?”

Kate blinked, surprised. She opened her mouth to argue, but as she gazed into his earnest eyes, she realized she didn’t want to. The prospect of an entire day spent wrapped in his arms, without the demands of travel or society pressing on them, was impossible to resist.

“Alright,” she said. “One day.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss her. “And here I thought I’d have to talk you into it,” he chuckled against her lips.

“How could I say no to this?” she said before deepening the kiss. They began to lose themselves in one another when Newton barked sharply, pacing near the door.

Kate pulled back with a soft laugh, her forehead resting against Anthony’s. “It seems someone has other plans for us this morning.”

Anthony groaned, throwing his head back against the pillows. “Must he ruin every moment?”

Newton barked again, more insistent this time, and Kate tilted her head toward the dog, raising an amused eyebrow. “He’s just reminding you that not everyone is content to laze about all day.”

Anthony sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Shall I call for the footman?” he suggested, his tone hopeful.

Kate smirked, slipping out of bed and reaching for her robe. “Or we could take him ourselves. A little walk before we spend the rest of the day in bed wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

With a sigh that was more for show than genuine reluctance, Anthony swung his legs over the side of the bed and began dressing. “Fine,” he muttered, shooting Newton a look as the dog wiggled enthusiastically. “But only because you said we’ll be in bed the rest of the day.”

Chapter Text

The carriage rattled along the countryside as Kate sat beside Anthony, Newton sprawled across her lap. She absently traced the floral pattern on his new collar as Anthony regarded the dog with reluctant acceptance.

“I have to admit,” Anthony finally said, breaking the silence, “the collar does suit him. He looks…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Respectable.”

Kate grinned, her fingers scratching the spot just behind Newton’s ear. “Do you hear that?” she said to her dog. “Respectable! That’s quite an upgrade from ‘mangy little beast.’” She turned to Anthony, eyes gleaming. “You’re growing soft.”

“I most certainly am not,” Anthony muttered, though he reached out tentatively to pet Newton—only for the dog to bark sharply, making him recoil.

Kate’s laughter filled the carriage. “He can sense insincerity, you know. He’s very discerning.”

“Let’s not give him too much credit.” Anthony said, watching the little creature settle back with a self-satisfied sigh. “He is quite spoiled, isn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” Kate replied, resting her head on Anthony’s shoulder as they drifted into comfortable silence. Newton stretched with a grunt, contentedly resting his head on Anthony’s lap.

With a reluctant chuckle, Anthony gave the dog a quick, awkward pat. “Don’t get any ideas,” he muttered. “We’re not friends.”

Kate smothered a laugh against his shoulder. As the carriage rolled on, she spotted the distant shape of a castle—their destination, Edwina’s new home—rising through the morning haze.

The afternoon sun shone down brightly as Kate, Edwina, and Mary folded into each other’s arms in a tearful reunion. Newton weaved between their ankles, barking excitedly as if joining in the joy.

Anthony and Friedrich stood to the side, exchanging polite smiles as they watched their wives' reunion stretch on. Eventually Edwina broke the hug, kneeling down to scratch Newton behind his ears.

“My favorite little rascal!” Edwina cooed. Newton’s tail wagged furiously as he soaked up the attention, licking her face and hands.

Kate crossed her arms, feigning indignation. “I think he’s more excited to see you than he was me.”

Friedrich chuckled, slipping an arm around Edwina’s waist. “Eddy, we have tea waiting for us in the drawing room.”

Anthony raised a brow, a teasing grin on his face. “Eddy?”

Edwina’s cheek flushed, but her laughter was light and carefree. Kate nudged Anthony, glaring at him.

“It’s very sweet,” she said reassuringly, smiling as she watched her sister lean easily into Friedrich’s touch.

Later that evening, after a warm, convivial dinner, the group gathered around the fire. Mary had excused herself early, leaving Kate, Anthony, Edwina, and Friedrich to enjoy the quiet of the evening. They lounged in companionable silence, the fire casting a soft glow over them, while a nearly-empty bottle of brandy rested on a low table.

Edwina, reclining next to Kate, toyed with the gold pendant Kate had gifted her. “So,” she began, setting down her glass with a bright smile. “Tell me about the balls you’re planning for the season, Kate.”

Kate laughed as Anthony groaned dramatically. “I believe we’ve been talked into hosting… what is it, Anthony, three now?”

Anthony groaned, pouring himself more brandy. “And that will be all.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “The social season is a blight upon mankind. Remind me again why we don’t stay away forever?”

Kate swatted his knee with her fan. “Because we have duties, Lord Bridgerton,” she said, adopting a mock-serious tone.

Anthony smirked. “Ah, yes. Society demands it. How vital.” He took a deliberate sip from his glass.

Edwina leaned forward, mischief lighting her eyes. “Surely the season will be more tolerable now that you’re off the marriage mart?”

Kate giggled as Anthony muttered something under his breath, clearly not amused. Edwina rested her head on Kate’s shoulder, her voice softening with a wistful note. “I almost think I’d enjoy the season in London this year—just for the fun of it, knowing I could dance with Friedrich all night. And you’d be there, too.”

Kate nudged her affectionately. “You’ll be too busy enjoying your honeymoon to miss it.”

Edwina sighed dramatically, but her smile was genuine. “True, but I’ll miss you and Amma terribly.”

Kate reached for her hand, giving it a tender squeeze. “If you miss London that much, you can always come stay with us next spring. We’ll be enduring the season for several more years yet—at least until we manage to marry off Hyacinth.”

Anthony’s expression turned alarmed. “Hyacinth? She’s only twelve!”

Kate tilted her head toward him with an exaggeratedly patient look. “That’s why I said several years, my love.”

Edwina and Friedrich exchanged amused glances, and Kate turned to Friedrich with a warm smile. “Now tell me, where are you taking my sister for your honeymoon?”

Friedrich’s eyes softened as he looked at Edwina, a gentle smile spreading over his face. “We’re taking a leisurely journey south towards Italy. I have a small estate near Lake Como, so we’ll stay there as long as my beautiful wife wishes.”

Edwina’s eyes sparkled, clearly enchanted by the thought of their journey. “It will be wonderful,” she said with a soft sigh. “We leave in a few weeks, and we won’t return until autumn.”

A bittersweet silence fell over the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Edwina leaned her head against Kate’s shoulder. “I’m so excited… but I’m already dreading being away from you and Amma for so long.”

“We can always return sooner,” Friedrich offered gently. “Whatever you wish, leibchen.”

Kate’s heart warmed at Friedrich’s affection towards her sister. She brushed Edwina’s hair back in a familiar, affectionate gesture. “It will fly by,” she reassured her. “And besides, you’ll have Friedrich all to yourself.” She smiled, looking towards Anthony warmly. “Italy was beautiful. I am sure you will be charmed by it. Enjoy every moment alone—we’ll see you again soon enough.”

Friedrich reached for Edwina’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll make certain of it.” He looked to Anthony, who nodded.

“Yes, of course,” Anthony said, his tone amused. “I know better than to interfere with these two.”

Edwina laughed, glancing at Kate with a mischievous grin. “Yes, you learned that lesson the hard way, didn’t you?”

Kate threw her head back in laughter, the sound ringing through the cozy room. “As he does with most things,” she teased, smiling affectionately at her husband.

Chapter Text

The sprawling estate where Edwina and Friedrich resided was grand yet warm, every corner bathed in the soft golden glow of candlelight. The gardens were bursting with early flowers, but the air carried a hint of frost as the evening crept in.

Kate had spent the day strolling the gardens with Edwina and Mary, laughter ringing through the crisp Prussian air as they teased one another and shared fond memories. Anthony had trailed behind them at a respectable distance, hands clasped behind his back, trying—failing—to focus on anything other than Kate.

Now, the day was over. The house was quiet, the hallways lit only by faint sconces as Anthony led Kate to their guest chambers.

Kate was still giggling softly over something Edwina had said at dinner, her cheeks flushed from wine and warmth. “You know,” she said, tugging at the ribbon on her dressing gown as she stepped into their room, “it’s been so lovely spending the day with them. I didn’t realize how much I missed this. Just… us three.”

Anthony shut the door behind them with a quiet click, his movements deliberate. “Yes,” he said, his voice tight, brow furrowed as he leaned against the door.

Kate turned to him, her smile softening. “Anthony, are you all right?”

Anthony dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Kate.”

“Yes?”

“I need you to understand something.”

Her brows knit together. “What is it?”

Anthony pushed away from the door, crossing the room in three long strides. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks as he stared down at her, his dark brown eyes full of something—something—that made her stomach flip.

“I love your mother. I love your sister. And I love seeing you happy with them.”

Kate’s brows lifted slightly. “But…?”

Anthony groaned softly, dropping his forehead to hers. “But, Kate, I have not been well today.”

Her lips twitched with a hint of amusement. “You haven’t been well?”

“No,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “Not when you’ve been walking ahead of me all day, your arm looped with Edwina’s, your laughter ringing in my ears. Not when the sun caught your hair just so and made you look like you’d stepped straight out of a painting. Not when you leaned close to your sister to whisper something, and I—I—could see the line of your neck, and—”

Kate bit her lip, a soft laugh escaping her. “Anthony Bridgerton, are you saying you’ve been suffering all day because I was enjoying time with my family?”

“Yes!” he said, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “You have been so carefree, so… radiant, and all I could do was follow along behind you like some besotted schoolboy while trying not to drag you into the nearest alcove.”

Kate laughed fully now, her hands resting lightly against his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Anthony’s voice dropped, his hands slipping from her face to rest firmly at her waist. “You wore that green dress today—the one that drives me to distraction—and you knew it, Kate.”

“I did not!” she said, failing to hide her smirk.

“Oh, you did.” Anthony’s fingers flexed at her waist, his breath warm against her lips. “You were impossible today, my love. Completely and utterly impossible.”

Kate’s teasing smile softened as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, my poor, suffering husband, we’re alone now. No sisters, no mothers. Whatever shall we do with ourselves?”

Anthony’s mouth was on hers before she could finish her sentence, his lips firm, his kiss deep and unrelenting. He pressed her back until her legs hit the edge of the bed, and they both tumbled onto the soft mattress with a breathless laugh that quickly dissolved into heated urgency.

His hands roamed her body, slipping under the loose folds of her dressing gown to find bare skin. Kate gasped against his mouth as he pushed the garment off her shoulders, leaving her in just her thin chemise.

“Do you have any idea,” he said between kisses, his voice rough and unsteady, “how excruciating it was to keep my hands off you all day? To sit politely beside you at dinner, to watch you laugh and smile without being able to—”

His words cut off as he kissed her again, this time slower, deeper, as though he could consume her entirely.

Kate’s hands threaded through his hair, tugging him closer as she whispered, “I’m here now, Anthony. You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

Anthony let out a low groan as he pulled her chemise up, his hands skimming her thighs, her waist, before finally pulling the flimsy fabric over her head and discarding it somewhere behind him.

He pulled back just enough to drink her in, his eyes trailing down her body before flicking back up to meet hers. “You’re exquisite, Kate.”

She felt her cheeks flush, her body already aching for him. “Stop looking and start doing something about it.”

That seemed to snap what little restraint he had left.

Anthony moved over her, pressing her into the mattress as his lips and hands explored every inch of her. He worshipped her with an intensity that made her toes curl and her head spin, his whispered praises mingling with soft groans and the sound of their breathless laughter.

When they finally came together, it was with a desperate, unspoken urgency that left them both gasping and clinging to each other, their bodies pressed close and slick with sweat. Anthony’s forehead dropped to her shoulder as they lay tangled together, his breath warm against her skin. Kate’s fingers traced lazy patterns along his spine, her chest still heaving.

After a long moment, Anthony lifted his head to look at her, his hair sticking up wildly, his expression soft and tender. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“For the rest of our trip,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her cheek, “don’t wear the green dress again. It really was torture.”

Kate laughed and tapped him teasingly on the nose. “I only brought so many gowns, my love. And one of them is waiting to be mended, remember?”

Chapter Text

The morning light filtered gently through the grand windows of Friedrich’s estate, casting a soft golden glow on the drawing room. Kate, Anthony, Edwina, and Friedrich sat together after breakfast, the air light with easy conversation.

“You must see Friedrich’s special project,” Edwina said suddenly, her tone teasing as she looked toward her husband with an affectionate smile.

Friedrich glanced up from his tea, clearly embarrassed. “Edwina—”

“Oh, don’t be modest,” Edwina said, beaming as she stood. “You’re positively adorable about it.”

Kate and Anthony exchanged a curious glance as Edwina motioned for them to follow.

“I must warn you,” Friedrich said with a resigned sigh, though his lips twitched into a small smile, “my wife exaggerates my… interests.”

Friedrich led them down a side corridor and through a set of double doors that opened into a sunny, well-kept conservatory. The room was filled with greenery and soft, filtered light—but it wasn’t the plants that drew Kate’s attention. Instead, her eyes widened in surprise.

In the center of the space, in carefully constructed enclosures lined with fresh straw and soft wool, were rabbits. Not just any rabbits—plump, fluffy Angora rabbits, their coats impossibly soft and spilling like clouds around them. A few twitched their noses and blinked lazily up at the newcomers, utterly unbothered by the intrusion.

Anthony blinked. “You… have rabbits?”

Friedrich cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Angora rabbits. For their wool.”

Edwina crouched down by one of the enclosures, cooing softly as she reached a careful hand toward a particularly fluffy white rabbit. “Isn’t it wonderful? He’s had them for years, and they’re perfectly spoiled.”

Kate smiled, watching as Friedrich followed his wife with a quietly proud expression. “I never would have guessed.”

“They’re quite the operation,” Friedrich admitted, crouching beside Edwina. “We shear their wool every few months and send it to be spun into yarn for scarves, mittens, and other gifts. Edwina is quite fond of the results.”

“Fond?” Edwina said with a laugh, looking over her shoulder. “Obsessed is more accurate. You’ve never felt anything softer.”

Anthony chuckled. “A prince of Prussia raising rabbits for mittens. That’s…not what I expected.”

Friedrich chuckled, unbothered. “I find them… calming. They’re gentle creatures.” He reached into one of the pens and lifted a round gray rabbit with an impressive mane of fur, cradling it carefully in his arms. The rabbit blinked and nestled into his chest, utterly content.

Kate couldn’t suppress her grin as she turned to Edwina. “I see what you mean.”

Edwina’s eyes were bright as she watched her husband, her smile soft with unabashed adoration. “He acts so serious, but he turns into an absolute lamb where his rabbits are concerned.”

Kate nudged Anthony playfully. “Perhaps you should get a rabbit, my love.”

Anthony raised a brow, his gaze pointedly landing on Newton, who was sitting patiently by the door, watching the rabbits with suspicious interest. “I think Newton might have… conflicting opinions.”

The group burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the soft rustle of hay and the quiet peace of the room. Kate found herself glancing back at Friedrich, who carefully set the rabbit down and straightened, brushing a bit of fur off his coat. For all his royal presence, there was something undeniably sweet about the sight of him so devoted to such small, unassuming creatures.

Edwina slipped her arm through Friedrich’s, resting her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh. “Admit it, dear—you’re quite proud of them.”

Friedrich shook his head fondly, kissing her temple. “Only because you insist on showing them off to everyone who visits.”

Kate exchanged a look with Anthony, who was trying (and failing) to hide his smirk. She smiled, her heart warmed by the quiet affection and the evidence of Friedrich’s gentle spirit, which seemed to mirror Edwina’s perfectly.

Chapter Text

“It still feels strange underfoot,” Edwina murmured, tilting her head back to watch delicate flakes drift down from the sky. “Like walking on crushed glass… or spun sugar.”

Kate smiled, her gloved fingers tightening slightly around Edwina’s arm. “The quiet is what struck me most when I first saw snow. How everything seems to hush under its weight.”

Edwina nodded thoughtfully, her breath misting in the cold air. “It’s beautiful… but I can’t help thinking how far we are from home.”

They paused at a bend in the path, their gazes drawn to the expanse of white-dusted grounds stretching before them. The distant spires of Berlin peeked through the pale morning mist like charcoal etchings against the sky.

“Do you miss it?” Edwina asked softly. “India?”

Kate’s smile turned bittersweet. “Every day. The heat of the sun, the vibrancy of the colors, the sound of the marketplace, even the way the air smelled after it rained… But I don’t regret being here, Edwina. Not for a moment.”

Edwina turned to her sister, her dark eyes shining with affection. “Neither do I. I think we both found something worth leaving home for.”

They resumed walking, their steps slow and unhurried. A gentle silence stretched between them, filled only by the muffled sound of snow crunching beneath their boots and the distant call of a raven perched in a skeletal tree.

“Mary cried, you know,” Edwina said suddenly, her voice quiet. “The first time it snowed here in Berlin.”

Kate stopped walking, her brows knitting together. “She cried?”

Edwina nodded, her gaze distant. “It was a few months after we arrived. She and I came out to the gardens. It was so quiet, and everything was so… still. She reached out to catch a snowflake, and when it melted in her hand, she started to cry.”

Kate’s throat tightened. “Oh, Edwina…”

“She said she hadn’t seen snow since she left London nearly twenty years ago. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until that moment.” Edwina’s voice trembled slightly, but her smile was steady. “It reminded her of being a girl, of growing up in a place where snow was a seasonal promise. But more than that, I think it reminded her of Appa. Of the life she chose to leave behind for him.”

Kate reached out and took Edwina’s gloved hand in her own, squeezing it tightly. “She loved him so much. Enough to leave everything she’d ever known behind.”

Edwina’s voice softened. “I used to think her sacrifice was foolish. Reckless, even. But now… now I understand. What she gained was worth so much more than what she gave up. She had love. A love so strong that even losing him couldn’t erase it. And she had us. You, me… the family they built together.”

Kate felt a lump rise in her throat as she cupped Edwina’s cheek with her free hand. “When did you become so wise, Bon?”

Edwina let out a watery laugh, leaning into Kate’s touch. “Love does that to a person, doesn’t it? It changes you. Softens some edges and sharpens others. Friedrich has given me so much happiness, Kate. And he’s taught me that when love is true, sacrifice doesn’t feel like sacrifice at all. It feels… right.”

Kate blinked back tears, her voice trembling with affection. “You sound so grown up.”

Edwina’s lips curved into a playful grin. “Well, I am a married woman now. A princess, even!”

Kate laughed, the sound breaking the fragile tension in the air. She pulled Edwina into a hug, their arms wrapping tightly around each other. The cold seemed to vanish in the warmth of their embrace, snowflakes catching in their hair like tiny crystals.

When they pulled apart, Kate brushed a stray curl from Edwina’s cheek. “Our lives have changed so much, haven’t they? From our little home in India to… this.”

Edwina nodded, her voice soft. “It feels like another lifetime. But I wouldn’t change a single step of the journey if it meant ending up here, like this.”

They resumed their walk, arm in arm again, their steps slow and unhurried.

“Do you think Mary regrets it?” Kate asked after a while.

“No,” Edwina said firmly. “I think she mourns parts of it, yes. But regret? No. She had a love worth crossing oceans for. And now, she gets to see us happy. I think that’s enough for her.”

Kate smiled, her chest full of a quiet, aching love for her family—for Edwina, for Mary, for the father she had lost too soon. They fell into silence again, sipping tea from a thermos Edwina had brought tucked in a basket. The mist slowly lifted, the soft morning light casting a golden glow over the lake and snow-covered trees.

After a moment, Edwina leaned her head briefly against Kate’s shoulder. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this content before.”

Kate glanced at her sister, her brow lifting slightly. “No?”

Edwina shook her head, her smile gentle. “You were always carrying so much weight on your shoulders back home—responsibility for me, for Amma, for everything. And now… it’s like you’re lighter somehow.”

Kate’s expression softened. “Anthony has a way of… carrying things with me, even when I insist I can do it myself.” She hesitated, then added quietly, “I didn’t expect that kind of love, Edwina. I thought marriage would mean more responsibilities, more weight. But with him… it feels like breathing.”

Edwina gazed at her sister, her eyes soft. “Do you ever think about how different our lives are now, Kate?”

“All the time,” Kate admitted. “We were once two girls in a tiny home in India, trying to stretch every coin. And now look at us—a viscountess and a princess. Sometimes it feels… absurd.”

Edwina smiled faintly. “It does, doesn’t it? I have silks embroidered for me by hand, and I wear jewels I used to see only in paintings. And yet, sometimes I still feel like that little girl reading a book on the porch.”

Kate let out a soft laugh. “You’re still that girl. You just have a much grander porch now.”

Chapter Text

The fire crackled softly in the grand guest suite of Friedrich’s estate, its golden light flickering over the plush velvet curtains and ornate furniture. Outside, the faint glow of moonlight illuminated the snow-dusted gardens below. But inside, all was warmth and stillness, a cocoon of quiet intimacy.

Kate lay on her back in the vast, canopied bed, her hair splayed over the pillows, her nightgown pushed down over her shoulders. Anthony hovered over her, his lips trailing languidly down her neck, pressing reverent kisses to every inch of exposed skin. His body was warm and solid against hers, his breath brushing over her collarbone as he worked his way lower.

“You smell like lilies again,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly in the dim light. “It’s maddening.”

Kate let out a breathless laugh, her fingers threading into his dark hair. “Perhaps you should stop torturing yourself and kiss me properly, then.”

“Oh, my love,” Anthony smirked, pressing one last kiss to her collarbone. “I plan to do far more than kiss you.”

His hands—those strong, firm hands—slid up her sides, brushing against the soft fabric of her nightgown as he cupped her breasts through the thin material.

Kate gasped sharply, her body jerking slightly beneath him.

Anthony froze, his brows knitting together as he looked up at her in alarm. “Did I hurt you?”

Kate blinked down at him, her lips parted as she processed the sensation. It hadn’t been painful, exactly—just sharp, a lightning bolt of sensitivity that stole her breath.

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing as she tried to stifle an embarrassed laugh. “It’s just… they’re incredibly sensitive tonight.”

Anthony’s expression shifted from concern to something else—something curious, something teasing. His mouth quivered into a small smile as his thumbs brushed over the peaks of her breasts again, testing the waters.

Kate gasped again, her head tilting back slightly as a soft moan escaped her throat. Her hands flew to his wrists, not to stop him, but to anchor herself.

Anthony’s grin turned wicked. “Well, well. This is… interesting.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me, Anthony,” Kate said, her voice wavering somewhere between stern and breathless.

“Never, darling,” he replied, though the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over hers as he murmured, “But you must admit… this is a rather delightful discovery.”

Kate rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. “If you’re quite finished gloating…”

“Oh, I’m far from finished,” Anthony interrupted, lowering his head again. This time, he kissed her through the fabric of her nightgown, his mouth hot and deliberate as his hands continued their slow, exploring movements.

Kate arched into his touch, her breath hitching with each careful, maddening stroke of his thumbs and lips. The sensitivity was almost overwhelming—every touch seemed to set her nerves alight.

“Anthony,” she breathed, her fingers tightening in his hair.

“Yes, my love?” he asked, his voice muffled against her chest.

“Less teasing. More—” She broke off with a gasp as he responded with a particularly bold movement of his hands.

Anthony chuckled softly, his breath warm against her skin. “As you wish.”

His mouth found hers again, and whatever witty retort Kate had been forming dissolved into a soft sigh as Anthony drew her into another deep, languid kiss.

Later, as they lay tangled together beneath the sheets, Anthony’s head resting on Kate’s chest, his arm draped possessively across her waist, he pressed a lazy kiss to the swell of her breast.

“You know, these truly are one of your finest features,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep and affection.

Kate let out a soft laugh, her fingers threading through his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you married me,” he reminded her smugly, his lips brushing over her skin again.

Kate shook her head, her smile lingering even as her eyelids grew heavy. “Yes, I did. And sometimes, I even think it was a good idea.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle, his hold on her tightening slightly. “Only sometimes?”

But Kate didn’t answer; her breath had already evened out, her body soft and relaxed beneath his. Anthony pressed one final kiss to her chest before settling back against her, his breathing matching hers as they both drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

The morning air was crisp but not biting, the snow from earlier in the week having melted into rivulets of clear water that traced paths through the gravel walkways. The garden smelled of damp earth and the faint promise of spring. Kate and Anthony strolled hand in hand, their breaths misting faintly in the cool air.

They had found a quiet corner of the garden near an ivy-covered stone bench. The lake lay still in the distance, reflecting the pale morning sky, and the world felt hushed, as if holding its breath. Kate leaned into Anthony’s side as they stood together, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.

Anthony pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Are you glad we came?” he asked after a moment, his voice low.

“I am,” Kate said without hesitation, her lips curving into a small, contented smile. “It’s been lovely to see Edwina so happy here. I wasn’t sure how she’d take to a life so far from England, but… she belongs here. You can see it in her face when she looks at Friedrich.”

Anthony nodded thoughtfully, his thumb tracing small circles against her shoulder. “Happiness has a way of making a home anywhere, I think.”

Kate tilted her head back to look up at him, her dark eyes soft with affection. Before she could reply, the faint crunch of approaching footsteps caught their attention. They both turned to see Mary emerging from the garden path, a wicker basket tucked over one arm and steam rising from the spout of a porcelain teapot balanced carefully inside.

“There you two are!” Mary called out, her voice warm and clear despite the chill. “I had a feeling I’d find you here.”

She set down the basket on a nearby stone table and handed each of them a cup of tea before settling gracefully beside Kate on the bench, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Anthony took a sip of tea, then glanced between the two women with a knowing smile.

“I’ll leave you two to conspire, shall I?” he said, rising and brushing frost from his coat. “I’ve just remembered that Friedrich promised to show me something in the stables.”

Kate looked up at him, her lips twitching with affection. “Please don’t buy me another horse, Anthony. I don’t think we have room in the carriage.”

Anthony smirked, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. “No promises.”

As he walked away, his steps crunching faintly over the gravel, silence settled between Kate and Mary. The garden seemed even quieter without Anthony’s presence, the stillness wrapping around them like a heavy blanket.

Mary’s gaze was fixed on the lake, her lips curved in a faint smile. “It’s so peaceful here,” she said softly, her voice carrying on the still air. “It reminds me of when you and Edwina were young, playing in the gardens back home. I used to watch you both, so full of light and laughter.”

Kate smiled faintly, her fingers tightening slightly around her teacup. “Those were good days.”

“They were.” Mary turned her head, studying her daughter with a warmth that seemed to shine from her very soul. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice softer. “You know, when I saw you again after your travels… after so many months apart… I was taken aback.”

Kate blinked, looking up at her mother with faint curiosity. “Taken aback? Why?”

Mary set her teacup aside, folding her hands in her lap as her gaze lingered on Kate’s face. “Because you were glowing, Kate. Truly glowing. Your smile was brighter, your laugh freer. And when I saw you with your nose ring catching the light and those lovely jingling anklets on your feet…” She hesitated, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “For the first time in so long, I felt like I recognized my daughter again.”

Kate’s breath caught in her throat, and she set her cup down with trembling fingers. “Amma…”

Mary reached out and took Kate’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You looked whole, my love. Like someone who has found… herself.”

Kate’s chest felt tight, and her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep in her throat.

Mary smiled softly, her thumb brushing over the back of Kate’s hand. “It’s not just the jewelry—it’s you, Kate. You have this light in you now. This… ease. And I know it’s because of him.”

Kate let out a shaky breath, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. “Anthony…” she whispered, his name a soft exhale. “He makes me feel… more like myself than I ever thought possible.”

Mary’s smile grew, her gaze filled with something deep and unspoken. “That’s how it should be, my dear. Love shouldn’t erase you—it should bring you back to yourself.”

Kate let out a choked laugh, her free hand coming up to swipe at the tears threatening to spill over. “You always know the right thing to say.”

Mary’s voice softened even more. “It’s because I see it, Kate. The way he looks at you, the way you look at him. It’s not just affection—it’s recognition. As if he sees every part of you and cherishes it.”

Kate’s tears finally spilled over, and Mary let go of her hand only to pull her daughter into a soft embrace. Kate clung to her mother, pressing her face against her shoulder as a few quiet sobs escaped her.

For a long moment, they stayed like that—wrapped in the warmth of love and understanding, with only the birds and the rustling leaves bearing witness to their vulnerability.

When Kate finally pulled back, her cheeks were damp, but her smile was soft and full of light. “It feels so strange sometimes,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “To be so… happy. To feel so settled.”

Mary brushed a stray curl from Kate’s cheek, her eyes crinkling with love. “You deserve every moment of that happiness, my darling girl. And it’s all right to let yourself sink into it. You’ve earned this peace.”

Kate nodded, her chest warm and full with the truth of those words. She let her head rest briefly against her mother’s shoulder, closing her eyes as the quiet peace of the morning wrapped around them both.

When they finally rose to head back toward the house, Kate felt lighter—her steps steadier, her heart fuller. And as the mist lifted from the lake and the sun climbed higher into the sky, she felt, deep down, that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Chapter Text

The two weeks with her mother and sister in Prussia had been filled with joy, and Kate found herself reluctant for them to end. Their days settled into a gentle rhythm: Mary retired early, leaving the two couples to chat until the men withdrew to the smoking room. Then, Kate and Edwina would curl up by the fire, whispering secrets until the warmth lulled them into silence.

One evening, as they lounged in the parlor, Mary excused herself early as usual. Kate nestled into Anthony’s side, his arm wrapped warmly around her shoulders.

Edwina made a sudden quip, and only Kate laughed in response. A second later, she realized why: her sister had spoken in Hindi.

Anthony gave an exaggerated groan. “Now that’s not fair. You can’t leave us out like that.”

Kate grinned, nudging him playfully. “Maybe you’ll have to learn Hindi.”

“Perhaps I will,” he replied with a smirk. “Then I’ll know when you’re plotting against me.”

Friedrich leaned forward, glancing between the sisters. “Edwina tells me, Kate, that you taught her all she knows of language, literature, and music?”

Kate smiled, a little bashful. “Not everything, but yes—I tried to teach her whatever a young lady ought to know.”

“But who taught you?” Friedrich asked, a look of genuine interest in his eyes.

Kate hesitated, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. “Mostly myself,” she admitted. “Or, occasionally, from a family my father worked for.”

Friedrich looked genuinely impressed. “To teach yourself well enough to instruct another—remarkable.”

Anthony’s arm tightened around her, and he kissed her temple. “She’s remarkable in every way,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet pride.

“She is,” Edwina agreed, her gaze warm. “You would have made an extraordinary governess, Kate.”

Anthony stiffened slightly, his hand tightening over Kate’s. She could sense the discomfort he always felt whenever her former plans were mentioned, as if the thought of a life without her pained him.

She gave his knee a reassuring pat, her voice gentle. “Now I’ll get to look forward to teaching our own children.”

Anthony’s expression softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

After the men left for the smoking room again, Kate and Edwina lingered, the fire casting soft shadows as they sipped their brandy. Kate hesitated, swirling the last of her drink before she found herself voicing a worry that had nagged at her in quiet moments.

"Sometimes I worry... that it’s too late. Now that I have someone I want it with, I’ll never have my own children," she murmured, barely able to meet Edwina's eyes. She felt a sob rise in her throat. “It’s been several months already.”

Edwina set her glass aside, catching Kate's hand in hers. "Kate, no," she said firmly, but with the gentleness of a sister’s love. "I’ve been married nearly as long as you, and I’m also not pregnant. These things can take time."

Kate’s eyes softened, her smile faintly surprised. "That’s exactly what Anthony says."

Edwina’s lips lifted. "You’ve talked to him about this?"

"Of course," Kate said. "He’s my…" She hesitated, unsure how she wanted to finish the sentence. Her husband? Her closest friend? Her reason for living? She shook her head, a laugh escaping her as Edwina grinned bemusedly. "Of course."

“Good. He's right.” She wrapped her hand around her sister’s. “When the time is right, it will happen."

Kate pulled her sister close. “You really have grown very wise, Bon.”

Edwina laughed, squeezing her tightly. “I learned from the best.”

Later that night, Kate slipped quietly into their guest bedroom wearing one of her sheer, lacy negligees. The fabric skimmed just past her thighs, leaving her bare legs exposed to the cool air. She shivered, though it was more from anticipation than the cold. But when she saw Anthony already lying on the bed, his eyes shut and his breathing deep and even, a small wave of disappointment washed over her.

Carefully, she slipped under the covers and nestled close to him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "Good night, my love," she whispered.

Anthony stirred, his brow relaxing as her scent wrapped around him like a balm. A low, sleepy hum escaped him, and his arms shifted automatically, seeking her out even in sleep.

"Kate?" he murmured, his voice gravelly with drowsiness.

She smiled, her heart fluttering at how tenderly he said her name, as if she were both the answer to a question and the question itself. His dark eyes fluttered open, bleary but brightening as they focused on her. A slow, lazy grin spread across his face as his gaze wandered down her body.

“Kate,” he repeated, the word like a prayer.

His hand reached out to brush her arm, then drifted lower to rest on her hip. His thumb made small, absentminded circles over the soft fabric of her negligee, as though savoring the moment.

She giggled, feeling a thrill at the way his sleepy mind awakened so quickly at the sight of her. “Are you too tired?” she teased, her voice light but suggestive.

Anthony shook his head slowly, his hand tightening on her waist. "Never." He leaned forward and kissed the curve of her neck, his lips warm and insistent as he trailed kisses down to the swell of her breasts. The sleepy haze in his expression evaporated in an instant, replaced by a sharper, more urgent hunger.

Before she could say anything more, he rolled over, pressing her beneath him with a low growl of pleasure. His gaze roamed her body, taking in the delicate lace, the way her skin glowed in the moonlight spilling through the window. He let out a breath, low and reverent. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he muttered, almost as if to himself.

Kate blinked, brushing an unruly lock of hair from his forehead. "What doesn’t make sense?"

Anthony's eyes locked with hers, the intensity in them making her stomach flip. "You’re so beautiful," he whispered, the words tumbling out like a confession.

Kate laughed softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Should I be offended by that?”

Anthony’s ears flushed a deep red, and he gave a sheepish grin. "No—sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just…" He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I am,” she said. She cupped his face, pulling him down for a kiss, her lips soft but insistent. "And I always will be," she whispered against his mouth.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding beneath the delicate fabric of her negligee, savoring every inch of skin he touched. “Say that again,” he breathed, trailing kisses down her collarbone.

Kate giggled. “I’m yours, Anthony,” she whispered. “Always.”

Chapter Text

The grand dining room was alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the warm hum of conversation. Kate, nestled between Anthony and Edwina, couldn’t stop smiling. The evening had been perfect—filled with stories, teasing, and far too much wine.

As the night stretched on, and the last drops of wine were savored, the party finally began to drift upstairs, drowsy and warm with drink. Kate and Anthony lingered behind, fingers entwined, giggling at nothing and everything as they slipped into their room.

“You’re radiant,” he murmured, his voice husky from the wine.

Kate rolled her eyes. “You’re drunk.”

“Drunk on you,” he quipped, grinning.

She groaned, laughing as she tugged at his cravat. “Come here, you ridiculous man. Let’s get you out of these layers before you collapse.”

Anthony smirked, his hands sliding to her waist. “Only if you do the same.”

Their laughter softened as she undid the knot at his throat, her fingers working through the silk with surprising precision. The moment was familiar—she had done this before, countless times. But tonight felt different. Slower. More deliberate.

As she loosened the fabric and slid it from his neck, her pulse quickened. She reached for his waistcoat next, her hands steady as she undid each button, revealing the crisp linen of his shirt beneath.

Anthony watched her, his amusement giving way to curiosity as she pushed the waistcoat from his shoulders, her fingers lingering at the edges of the fabric before letting it drop to the floor. Kate swallowed, her breath coming a little faster as she moved to his shirt. She hadn’t expected to feel like this—to feel so entranced by the slow unveiling of his body.

Her fingers brushed over the ties at his collar, then down the row of buttons, parting the fabric inch by inch. Her touch was featherlight, grazing against the bare skin she exposed, and Anthony let out a quiet exhale as her fingertips skimmed his chest.

She had seen him like this before. Countless times. But tonight, she found herself wanting to savor it, to relish every inch of him.

She pressed her palms to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath her hands.

Anthony’s hands, which had been resting lightly on her hips, tensed. His jaw tightened slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Kate,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before. “What are you doing?”

Kate didn’t answer. She just let her hands wander lower, tracing the lines of his stomach, feeling the shift of muscle beneath her touch.

And then, before she even realized what she was doing, she sank to her knees before him.

Anthony inhaled sharply, his hands gripping her shoulders as though to steady himself—not her.

“Kate,” he murmured, blinking down at her, his expression a mix of shock, fascination, and unmistakable arousal.

Kneeling before him like this was a submissive position, but nothing about her actions was submissive. She was the one in control, the one taking her time, making him wait, making him feel. She looked up at him through her lashes, her fingers curling around the waistband of his trousers, and Anthony let out a low, shuddering breath.

“God help me,” he muttered.

Kate hummed in amusement, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile.

“Do you trust me?” she asked, her voice soft but commanding.

Anthony let out a breathless laugh, his fingers tightening on her shoulders. “I trust you with everything.”

“Good,” she murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to his stomach before continuing her slow, deliberate exploration. The power of seeing him come undone beneath her touch sent a heady rush through her. Anthony groaned, his head tipping back slightly, his breath uneven.

She relished each reaction, each sound that escaped his lips as she teased him, took her time with him. Her confidence grew with every hitch in his breath, every whispered curse, every reverent murmur of her name.

By the time Kate finally rose, her body flush against his, Anthony was trembling. He wasted no time reclaiming his dominance, flipping her beneath him on the bed with a growl of pure want.

“Kate,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “you’ll be the death of me.”

She laughed softly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “But not tonight, my love.”

Anthony chuckled, pulling her closer. They lay tangled together, the world beyond their little room forgotten. In the quiet glow of the firelight, Kate felt a sense of contentment so deep it left her breathless.

Chapter Text

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its golden glow dancing across the walls of the guest room. Shadows swayed in rhythm with the flames, casting the small space in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. The rest of the house had long since quieted, the sounds of footsteps and laughter replaced by the occasional creak of the old floorboards.

Kate sat curled into the deep armchair closest to the fire, a glass of wine resting in her hand. She watched the embers glow, her expression thoughtful as the day’s events replayed in her mind. Across the room, Anthony removed his coat and waistcoat, draping them neatly over the back of a chair before pouring himself a glass from the decanter on the small table.

“Friedrich keeps an excellent vintage,” he remarked as he swirled the liquid in his glass, his voice low and content. “Almost worth extending our stay a little longer, don’t you think?”

Kate looked up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Oh? Is that why you want to stay—for the wine?”

Anthony chuckled softly, walking over to her. He eased himself down onto the rug at her feet, stretching his legs out toward the fire. “The wine is only a small part of it,” he teased, leaning his head back to look up at her. “I might also be enjoying how happy you look here.”

Kate tilted her head, her smile softening. “I am happy,” she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with something bittersweet. She glanced back at the flames, the flickering light reflecting in her dark eyes. “But I think part of that is knowing how happy Edwina is. Seeing her so settled, so in love—it’s everything I ever hoped for her.”

Anthony reached out, resting his hand on her knee, his thumb brushing gently against the fabric of her gown. “You’ve spent so much of your life taking care of her. I know what it means to you to see her thriving.”

Kate nodded, her throat tightening slightly. “It does. And yet… the thought of leaving again makes my heart ache.” She took a slow sip of her wine, setting the glass aside on the small table beside her. “I’ve already missed so much time with her. And with Mary, too. I was so ready to leave for our honeymoon, but now that we’re all together again, it feels too soon to part.”

Anthony’s hand slid up to take hers, his fingers warm against her cool skin. “You’ll see them again, Kate,” he said gently. “You’ll always have them, just as they’ll always have you. But our life… our future—that’s beginning, too. Together.”

Kate looked down at him, her chest swelling with affection at the steady certainty in his voice. “I know,” she whispered. “And I wouldn’t trade what we’ve built for anything. It’s just… strange, isn’t it? How life keeps moving forward, even when part of us wants to stand still.”

Anthony nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “It is strange. But I’d wager you wouldn’t have been content to stand still forever, my love. You have far too much spirit for that.”

Kate let out a soft laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing. “Perhaps not.” She slid down from the chair, settling herself beside him on the rug. Anthony shifted, his arm coming around her to pull her close. She tucked her head against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him—something clean and warm, like linen and the faintest trace of tobacco.

“You know,” Anthony murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair, “as much as I’ve enjoyed this trip, there’s a part of me that’s looking forward to being home again. Just the two of us. Well, except for Newton underfoot and my meddling family interrupting us at every turn.”

Kate smiled against his shoulder. “You love the chaos of your family.”

“I do,” he admitted with a grin. “But I also love our quiet moments. Like this.”

She turned her face up to him, her smile soft and full of affection. “So do I.”

Anthony’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment, the firelight casting golden streaks across her dark hair and delicate features. He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that began soft but quickly deepened, as though he couldn’t help himself.

Kate sighed against him, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek as she leaned into him. His arms tightened around her, pulling her into his lap as the kiss grew more urgent. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s.

“You’re mine, Kate,” Anthony whispered, his voice husky. “No matter where we go, no matter where life takes us.”

Her heart swelled at his words, the quiet promise settling deep within her. “And you’re mine,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Wherever you are, that’s home for me.”

Anthony’s eyes darkened with emotion, his lips capturing hers again. The fire crackled beside them, its glow wrapping around them like a warm embrace as they lost themselves in each other.

Chapter Text

The morning they left Prussia, Mary's carriage sat behind Kate and Anthony's in front of the castle, ready to take the three of them back to London. Kate pulled away from Anthony, moving towards her mother's carriage.

“I'm going to ride with Mary for a while,” Kate said. She smiled at her mother, who was already sitting inside.

Anthony grumbled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll be right behind you the entire time,” she giggled.

“That's too far from me,” he chuckled, tipping her chin up to kiss her properly. He helped her into the carriage, closing the door behind her. “We should arrive at the inn by late afternoon. Safe travels, ladies.”

Mary smiled at Kate as she settled into her seat. “I understand if you would rather ride with your husband,” she said. “I'm fine on my own.”

Kate returned the smile. “No, Amma. It's nice to spend some alone time with you.”

As the carriage began rumbling along the road, Mary smiled at her daughter.

“You seem happy,” she said, squeezing Kate's hand tenderly.

“Amma, you have no idea,” Kate replied, tears burning suddenly in her eyes.

Mary’s smile grew, though there was a tinge of sadness to it. “Your father would have loved to see you like this,” she murmured.

There was a moment’s silence, filled with the rhythm of the horses’ hooves on the road, before Mary spoke again. “That’s all your father ever wanted for you. For you to be loved and cherished in the way you deserve.” She cleared her throat, her voice softer. “He would be so pleased.”

After a pause, Mary continued, her tone edged with regret. “After he… well, I lost sight of so much. I put too much on you, Kate. Leaned too hard when I should have been the one supporting you and Edwina. You were still so young.”

“Amma…” Kate’s voice was thick with emotion, but Mary raised a hand gently, asking her to listen.

“No, let me say it. I should have done more. I can never thank you enough for holding us together.”

Kate took her mother’s hand, her voice steady. “We did what we had to, Amma. And I’d do it all again.”

Mary’s eyes shone as she looked at her daughter. “I know. And that’s why I’m so thankful for you, Kate. So proud.” She reached out, brushing a stray curl behind Kate’s ear like she used to when she was a child.

Kate sniffled, fishing for a handkerchief in her reticule. Mary smiled. “I’m also grateful for Anthony—that he loves you so well.”

Kate grinned. “I hope you find love again one day, Amma. You deserve it.”

Mary’s cheeks pinkened. “Well, there is someone… someone who’s very kind.” She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “He… well, he’s reminded me of feelings I thought were gone.”

Kate’s face broke into a delighted grin. “Amma! You must tell me everything.”

Mary’s laugh was soft and shy. “There’s not much to tell yet. But he makes me feel at ease, just as your father did. It’s… unexpected, but lovely.”

Kate beamed. “When did you meet him?”

Mary’s blush deepened. “He works for Friedrich. He’ll visit London in a few months on business. I’ll be sure to introduce you then.”

“I can’t wait,” Kate replied, and she hugged her mother tightly.

Chapter Text

The modest dining room of the roadside inn was lit by flickering candlelight, casting a golden glow over the polished wooden table and the plates of roasted meat, bread, and cheese laid before them. The fire crackled in the stone hearth, and the faint murmur of other patrons drifted in from the adjoining parlor.

Mary sat next to Kate, across from Anthony, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea as she chatted about their upcoming return to London. Kate listened with a soft smile, her hand resting lightly on her rounded wine glass, though she wasn’t drinking from it. Anthony, on the other hand, wasn’t listening at all.

His gaze—decidedly unfocused—was locked on Kate. More specifically, on the gentle swell of her cleavage where it peeked above the neckline of her traveling gown. He was certain he’d seen her in this dress before, but tonight, something about the way it fit, the way she moved, had him utterly undone. And no matter how many times Anthony blinked, cleared his throat, or adjusted in his chair, his eyes kept wandering back.

Kate noticed. Oh, she noticed.

Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she shot him a sharp glance, her eyebrows raised in warning. Anthony Bridgerton, behave yourself, her eyes seemed to say.

But Anthony was far too deep in his spiraling thoughts to heed any silent reprimands. He shifted in his chair again, picking up his glass of wine only to set it back down without taking a sip. His jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat for what must have been the third time in ten minutes.

“So,” Mary said, glancing between them, her brow faintly furrowed as she tried to decipher the strange energy simmering at the table. “How long do you suppose it will take to settle back into life at Bridgerton House?”

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but Anthony spoke first—his voice far too strained to sound natural.

“Not long. A week, perhaps. Maybe two.” His words came out clipped, rushed, and far too loud.

Kate kicked him lightly under the table, and Anthony flinched, sitting up straighter and offering Mary a far-too-innocent smile.

Mary, ever perceptive, gave them both a long look before setting her cup down. “I think I’ll excuse myself for a moment. Do forgive me.”

She rose from the table with practiced grace, disappearing through the door leading back toward the inn's staircase.

The moment she was gone, Kate turned on Anthony, her voice low and sharp. “Anthony, what are you doing?”

Anthony blinked at her, looking for all the world like a schoolboy caught misbehaving in church. “I’m… eating dinner?”

“No, you’re not,” Kate hissed, her cheeks flushed pink. “You’re staring at my chest like it holds the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.”

Anthony’s lips twitched into something resembling a sheepish grin. “I can’t help it, Kate. Have you seen yourself? You’re… utterly enchanting.”

Kate pressed her lips together tightly, her eyes narrowing. “You are impossible.”

Anthony leaned forward, lowering his voice into a gravelly murmur that sent a shiver racing down her spine. “All I can think about is putting my face between your breasts, Kate. Right here, right now. And if I have to endure another minute of this dinner pretending otherwise, I might actually combust.”

Kate’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide with indignation—and something else she couldn’t quite place. Before she could retort, a soft sound from the doorway froze them both in place. Mary was back.

Anthony immediately leaned back in his chair, casually reaching for his wine glass as though he hadn’t just confessed such scandalous thoughts in the middle of dinner.

Kate, on the other hand, felt her entire body flush crimson. Her gaze darted to her mother, who was eyeing them both with a knowing amusement that only mothers seem to master.

“I think I’ll retire for the evening,” Mary said lightly, her lips twitching with a faint smirk as she picked up her shawl from the back of her chair. “It’s been a long day, and I believe the two of you could… use some time to yourselves.”

Kate choked on absolutely nothing, coughing lightly into her hand. “Oh—yes, of course, Amma. Sleep well.”

Mary’s amused gaze lingered on Kate for a moment before flicking briefly to Anthony, who, for all his earlier brazenness, looked suddenly very focused on a distant spot over Mary’s shoulder.

With a final knowing nod, Mary swept gracefully from the room, leaving behind a silence that felt far too heavy for the modest space.

Kate dropped her face into her hands with a groan. “I cannot believe you.”

Anthony, however, didn’t look remotely embarrassed. Instead, he stood smoothly, buttoning his waistcoat as he rounded the table to Kate’s side. He offered her his hand, his dark eyes glinting with mischief and something far more dangerous.

“Come, Lady Bridgerton,” he said softly, his voice dripping with promise. “I believe it’s time for us to retire as well.”

Kate took his hand reluctantly, her cheeks still flushed. “You are shameless.”

Anthony bent to press a kiss to her knuckles, his lips lingering there just long enough to make her stomach flip. “Completely. And you love me for it.”

Kate huffed out a soft laugh despite herself, letting him guide her from the dining room and up the narrow staircase to their private chamber.

The night was quiet, the halls dimly lit with flickering sconces, but the air between them practically crackled with anticipation. And though Kate was still mortified by the evening’s earlier exchange, she couldn’t stop the giddy smile that tugged at her lips as Anthony led her into their room and shut the door firmly behind them.

There was no more hiding his thoughts now. And judging by the way he looked at her, he wasn’t planning to.

Chapter Text

The common room of the inn was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the clatter of mugs and plates. The fire in the hearth crackled warmly, casting golden light over the worn wooden tables and benches. Travelers of all sorts filled the space—merchants swapping stories of trade, families enjoying hearty meals, and a few solitary figures nursing drinks in quiet corners.

At a corner table near the fire sat Kate, Anthony, and Mary. Newton, naturally, was making himself known to everyone in the room. The corgi trotted through the space with a self-assured air, his short legs carrying him efficiently from table to table. His ears perked at every new sound, and his dark eyes sparkled with curiosity and charm.

“He’s incorrigible,” Kate murmured, her chin resting on her hand as she watched Newton sidle up to a table where a young boy eagerly held out a piece of bread.

The boy giggled as Newton accepted the offering with the gravitas of a royal tasting a rare delicacy. The dog’s tail wagged furiously as he gobbled it up, then sat down expectantly, gazing at the boy’s plate with a look of hopeful entitlement.

Anthony took a sip of his ale, his brows raised. “He’s got the entire room under his paw.”

Kate laughed softly. “You must admit, he’s got charm.”

“Too much for his own good,” Anthony replied, though his lips quirked in a reluctant smile as Newton moved to a nearby table where an older woman was handing him a scrap of cheese.

Mary, who had been sipping her tea with quiet amusement, shook her head. “I’ve never seen such brazen confidence in such a small creature. It’s almost admirable.”

“Almost?” Kate echoed playfully.

Mary’s lips twitched. “Let’s not make him smug about it, dear.”

Not everyone was so taken with Newton’s display. A stern-looking man in a fine coat and cravat, seated near the center of the room, narrowed his eyes at the dog and muttered something under his breath.

Newton, unbothered, padded closer to the man’s table, sniffing delicately at the air. The man scowled. “That animal should not be in here,” he said loudly enough for the room to hear.

Anthony straightened in his seat, his gaze sharpening as he set down his mug. His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it that cut through the chatter of the room. “My wife’s dog is well-behaved and far more pleasant company than some humans I’ve encountered.”

The man bristled, his face flushing, but before he could respond, the older woman who had fed Newton earlier spoke up. “He’s a delight, that dog. Brightens up the whole evening.”

The boy from the first table chimed in eagerly, his voice piping up. “I think he’s amazing!”

Newton, perhaps sensing the moment, wiggled his stump of a tail as he trotted back to Anthony, sitting smartly beside him and gazing up with an almost smug expression.

Mary hid a smile behind her teacup, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Kate bit her lip to keep from laughing as the man muttered something unintelligible and returned to his meal, his ears pink with embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Kate said softly to Anthony, leaning closer. “Newton appreciates your loyalty.”

Anthony looked down at the corgi, who had now placed his head on Anthony’s foot, his eyes wide and pleading for scraps. “I’m beginning to think he planned this,” Anthony muttered, though there was no mistaking the fondness in his voice.

Kate laughed, her hand brushing over Anthony’s arm. “I’m glad to see you two finally getting along. I was starting to worry Newton wouldn’t win you over.”

Anthony smirked, scratching behind Newton’s ears. “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. But don’t tell him I said so. He’s insufferable enough already.”

For a moment, the three of them sat in comfortable silence, the fire crackling in the hearth and the hum of the inn’s patrons filling the space around them. Kate leaned into Anthony’s side, her head resting lightly against his shoulder. Newton, satisfied with his campaign for treats, sprawled contentedly at Anthony’s feet.

Chapter Text

The bathing room was cloaked in the soft glow of candlelight, the golden flames reflecting off the damp stone walls and shimmering on the surface of the steaming water. The faint scent of lavender and rose hung heavy in the air, mingling with the warmth that seemed to cling to every surface.

It was clear the staff had gone to great lengths to prepare the bath. The large copper tub, polished to a faint gleam, was nearly overflowing with fragrant water, steam curling lazily upward to dance in the candlelight.

Kate stood near the edge of the tub, her cloak draped loosely over her shoulders. Her hair had already begun to loosen from its pins, and a few dark curls framed her face as she took in the sight before her. She felt both drawn to the water and utterly exhausted by the idea of undressing and lowering herself into the tub.

The past few weeks had been filled with constant travel, bumpy carriages, and unfamiliar beds.. Her limbs ached, her head felt heavy, and an unrelenting fatigue seemed to cling to her like a fog.
Anthony leaned casually against the stone archway of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his sharp gaze fixed on her. He had discarded his coat and waistcoat, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, and his cravat hanging loosely around his neck. The flickering light turned the edges of his face to gold, but his eyes—those deep, knowing brown eyes—remained sharp, locked on her with quiet intensity.

“Well,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that seemed to echo off the stone walls, “it seems our hosts were quite thorough.”

Kate smiled faintly, her gloved fingers reaching out to trail along the edge of the tub. “It’s lovely. A bath fit for royalty, I think.”

“Not royalty, my darling,” Anthony said as he pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to her. “Only for you.”

She turned to face him, her lips twitching with a smile, but her breath caught as he closed the distance between them. His hands rose to her shoulders, gently sliding her cloak away until it pooled silently at her feet.

Anthony’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at her. “You’re pale,” he said softly. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

Kate let out a small, tired sigh, offering him a reassuring smile. “I think the travel is catching up with me.” She shrugged, though her shoulders felt like lead. “It’s nothing, Anthony. Truly.”

Anthony didn’t look convinced. His hands slid down her arms, his thumbs brushing gently against her wrists. “You’ve been unwell for days now. Do you feel ill? Are you in pain?”

“No,” Kate said quickly, reaching up to cup his face in her palms. “It’s nothing to fret over. I’m just… tired.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked ready to argue. But then he sighed, leaning into her touch, his eyes softening. “Then let me take care of you. Let this bath ease some of that weariness.”

Kate felt her chest tighten with affection for him. This man—her husband—always so strong, so confident, yet endlessly gentle with her.

“You’ll stay, won’t you?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Anthony’s hands slid down to lace with hers, his forehead nearly brushing hers. His voice dropped to a husky murmur. “I’m not going anywhere, Kate.”

Slowly, Anthony helped her peel away her gloves, her dress, and the delicate layers beneath. The fabric slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet in a soft rustle. Her shift followed soon after, leaving her bathed in nothing but golden candlelight and Anthony’s unwavering gaze.

For a long moment, he didn’t move. He simply looked at her, his dark eyes tracing the lines of her body with a mixture of hunger and something far deeper—something reverent, something achingly tender.

“Into the water with you,” he said softly, his voice tight, almost hoarse.

Anthony steadied her with firm hands, holding her until she was comfortably settled in the warm water. Kate let out a long, contented sigh as the heat soaked into her aching muscles. She leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, her eyes fluttering closed as the lavender-scented steam curled around her face.

When she opened her eyes, Anthony had pulled a wooden stool beside the tub and lowered himself onto it. His forearms rested casually on his knees, his sleeves still rolled up, and his head tilted slightly as he watched her. Kate felt her cheeks warm under his gaze, though whether it was from the steam or the way his eyes lingered on her, she couldn’t quite tell.

“Are you going to sit there all night, my love?” she asked, her voice soft, teasing.

Anthony smirked faintly. “I’m enjoying the view. You look… peaceful. You’ve been so restless these past few days. I’ve missed seeing you like this.”

Kate opened her eyes and looked at him, her smile soft. “I’m glad you insisted on this stop. I needed this.”

Anthony smirked, though his eyes were still heavy with concern. “I’ll insist on more stops if it means you’ll take care of yourself.”

Kate reached out and brushed her fingers over the back of his hand where it rested on the tub’s edge. “I promise, I feel better already.”

Anthony nodded, though his gaze lingered on her face for a long moment. Then he dipped his hand into the water and brought it to her shoulder, letting the warm droplets slide over her skin. “Rest now, Kate. I’ll be right here.”

Kate let her eyes drift shut again, a small smile curving her lips. She felt the tension in her body slowly melt away under Anthony’s watchful gaze, the warm water, and the gentle crackle of the candles.

“Anthony…” she murmured.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the edge of her ear. “Yes, my love?”

Kate turned slightly in the water, her arms crossing over the edge of the tub as she gazed up at him. “Will you join me?”

Anthony reached out, his knuckles grazing her damp cheek. “I’d love to.”

She sank back into the water, letting out a contented sigh as her eyes fluttered closed.

When she opened them again, Anthony was standing, slowly undressing. The flickering candlelight gilded every inch of him in gold and shadow, and Kate had to look away briefly, her cheeks flushing. The water rippled as he stepped in behind her, the tub barely large enough for both of them but somehow a perfect fit. Anthony settled himself with his back against the curve of the copper, pulling Kate gently until she was nestled against his chest, her back pressed against the hard planes of his body.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the gentle lap of water against the sides of the tub and the faint hiss of candle flames. Anthony’s arms wrapped around her waist, his palms resting low on her stomach, and Kate let her head tip back onto his shoulder, her eyes closing as she exhaled slowly.

“Do you know,” Anthony said softly, his lips brushing against the curve of her ear, “I could stay like this forever. Right here. You, warm in my arms, nothing but candlelight between us.”

Kate’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching at the intimacy of his words—and the slow, deliberate slide of his fingertips along her stomach.

“Forever is a very long time, my love,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Not nearly long enough,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just below her ear. His hands began to drift lower, the water shifting with every slight movement. “Every moment with you feels like it’s stolen from time itself.”

Kate turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his jaw, her breath trembling. “Anthony…”

“Shh,” he whispered against her temple. “Let me take care of you.”

His hands moved with practiced confidence, exploring her body under the water with slow, deliberate strokes that made her toes curl. Kate’s head fell back against his shoulder as her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he touched her with such aching tenderness.

The water splashed softly as she shifted, turning in his arms to face him. Her knees came up to either side of his hips, and the space between them dissolved entirely. The steam curled around their faces, her damp hair clinging to her neck as their eyes met.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other—the world narrowing to nothing but candlelight, the scent of roses, and the quiet rise and fall of their breaths.

Then Anthony reached up, cupping her cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across her lower lip before he pulled her down into a kiss—deep and unhurried, their mouths moving together in perfect sync. The kiss tasted of wine and steam, of unspoken promises and a hunger so sharp it bordered on reverence.

“Kate,” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough with emotion. “You undo me.”

She leaned her forehead against his, her breath mingling with his as she whispered, “You’ve undone me from the very beginning.”

The moments that followed were a slow dance in the water, every touch, every kiss, every sigh spoken with the language only they understood. The candlelight flickered wildly as water spilled over the edge of the tub, but neither of them noticed, nor did they care.

When it was over, Kate lay against Anthony’s chest once more, her body spent and boneless, her head tucked under his chin. His arms wrapped tightly around her, as if he could hold her in place and keep the world outside at bay.

“I think I’ve discovered my favorite way to end a day of travel,” Kate murmured sleepily.

Anthony’s chest shook softly with laughter as he pressed a kiss to her damp hair. “My darling, I’ll make certain every inn we stay in has a bath just like this.”

Kate smiled against his skin, her eyes fluttering closed as the water cooled around them, and the candles slowly began to burn down to their wicks.

Chapter Text

The journey back home had been long, the winding roads of the countryside stretching endlessly beneath the steady rhythm of the carriage wheels. With dusk settling over the horizon, Anthony and Kate found themselves stopping at a modest country inn for the night, a welcome respite from travel-worn exhaustion.

Their room was small but cozy, the fire crackling warmly in the hearth. Outside, the rain drummed softly against the window, a steady, rhythmic sound that made the space feel even more intimate. Kate stood by the basin, brushing out her hair, her long curls spilling over her nightshift.

Anthony sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her. He had noticed the changes in her body in the past few weeks. There was a new fullness to her curves, a softness in her hips, a roundness in her breasts that tested every ounce of his self-restraint.

She had always been beautiful, but now? Now, she was something else entirely. Lush. Glowing. Irresistible.

His fingers twitched against his thigh as he watched her, his hunger for her simmering beneath his skin.

Kate, oblivious to his internal battle, set down her brush and turned toward him. “You’ve been staring at me all evening,” she teased, tilting her head. “Do I have something on my face?”

Anthony swallowed, his jaw tightening. “No.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Because I can’t help it. Because every inch of you is mine. Because I want you so much I can feel it in my bones.

Instead of answering, he stood and crossed the room in three strides. He took her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking over her cheekbones as he gazed down at her.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Kate’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching. His voice had dropped, rough and full of something dark, something desperate.

“Anthony—”

But before she could say more, his lips crashed against hers.

The kiss was consuming, hungry. He backed her up against the wooden post of the bed, his hands roaming her body with barely restrained reverence. She gasped into his mouth as his palms brushed over her breasts, his touch slow, teasing, deliberate.

“You feel different,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with wonder.

Kate pulled back just enough to look up at him, her brows knitting together. “Different?”

He nodded, his hands splaying possessively over her waist, then lower, molding her curves beneath his touch. “Softer.” He cupped her breasts, his thumbs grazing over the peaks through the thin fabric of her shift. “Fuller.” His voice dropped even further, reverent and rough all at once. “Perfect.”

Heat flooded her cheeks, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was desire, sharp and urgent. “You’re imagining things,” she murmured, her fingers threading through his hair.

Anthony huffed a quiet laugh, pressing kisses down the column of her throat. “I’m not.”

His hands slid lower, gripping her hips, kneading, testing. Kate shivered as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. “Every inch of you.”

A shuddering sigh left her lips. “I’m yours,” she breathed.

The words sent something snapping inside him. With a low growl, Anthony lifted her, carrying her to the bed with ease. The mattress dipped beneath them as he settled over her, his hands working at the ties of her shift.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path down her collarbone. “How much I need you.”

Kate’s breath hitched as he pushed the fabric away, baring her to him. He groaned at the sight of her, his hands and mouth following, worshipping.

She arched into his touch, heat coiling low in her belly. “Then take me,” she whispered.

His head snapped up, his dark eyes locking with hers. “Say it again.”

Kate swallowed, her hands gripping his shoulders. “Take me, Anthony. I’m yours.”

A growl rumbled in his chest, and then he was on her, in her, moving with an urgency that sent them both spiraling. Every thrust, every gasp, every brush of skin against skin was a claim, a promise.

“You’re mine,” Anthony ground out, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer, deeper. “All mine.”

“Yours,” Kate gasped, her nails digging into his back. “Always.”

The tension between them coiled tighter, their movements growing more frantic, more desperate.

“Mine,” he murmured against her lips, his voice wrecked.

Kate’s fingers tangled in his hair, her legs tightening around him. “Yours,” she whispered back, her voice breaking.

And then the world shattered. Pleasure tore through them, violent and consuming, their cries lost in the space between them as they reached their peak together.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing, their bodies still entangled, their skin slick with heat.

Anthony pressed a lingering kiss to her shoulder, his heart hammering against hers. “I’m never letting you go,” he murmured.

Kate smiled, threading her fingers through his damp hair. “Good.”

Chapter Text

The sky was a blanket of gray, thick with clouds that hung low over the churning waters of the English Channel. The wind whipped across the deck, tangling Kate’s hair as she stood at the railing, her gloved hands gripping the cold metal tightly. The ship pitched and rolled with each wave, the motion unsettling even the sturdiest of passengers.

Behind her, Anthony hovered with palpable worry, his hand steady on the small of her back. In his other hand, he held a thick woolen blanket he’d insisted she bring up from the cabin. Nearby, Mary stood with a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, her brow furrowed as she glanced between her stepdaughter and the unforgiving sea.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Kate?” Anthony asked for the third time in as many minutes, his voice low but urgent.

Kate nodded weakly, though her face had lost some of its usual color. “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice soft and uncertain. “It’s just the movement—it’s not usually like this, is it?”

Mary stepped closer, her voice calm but laced with concern. “No, dear, it isn’t. The Channel is unpredictable, but this feels particularly rough.”

Anthony frowned, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon as if he could will the waves to calm. “We should get you back below deck,” he said firmly.

“No,” Kate said quickly, shaking her head. “The air helps.”

Mary reached out, placing a comforting hand on Kate’s arm. “Perhaps we could sit, at least? There’s a bench just a few steps away.”

But before Kate could respond, her stomach gave a sudden, violent lurch. Her hand flew to her mouth as she turned sharply towards the railing. Anthony was at her side in an instant, his arm steadying her while Mary moved swiftly to hold back Kate’s hair.

“Oh, darling,” Mary murmured softly as Kate clutched the railing, gasping between heaves.

Anthony’s face was stricken with helplessness. “Kate, I—what do you need? Water? A doctor? Should I—”

“Stop talking,” Kate managed weakly, waving one hand as she kept her other grip tight on the railing.

Anthony fell silent, but his wide-eyed panic was plain as day. Mary glanced over at him and shook her head. “Breathe, Anthony,” she said softly. “She’ll be alright.”

When Kate finally straightened, she leaned heavily against Anthony, her face pale and glistening with sweat. Mary pressed a clean handkerchief into Kate’s hand, her face etched with worry.

“This is mortifying,” Kate muttered as she dabbed at her lips, her cheeks pink despite her pallor.

“Nonsense,” Anthony said immediately, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Mary smiled faintly, smoothing back Kate’s hair. “You’ve been so tired lately, darling. I wonder if this is just your body’s way of telling you to rest.”

Kate nodded weakly, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “I’ve never been seasick before.”

Anthony’s hand rubbed slow circles over her back, his voice low and soothing. “It’s the rough water. You’ll feel better once it calms down.”

Mary gestured toward the bench nearby. “Come, let’s sit. You’ll feel steadier off your feet.”

Anthony helped Kate across the deck, one arm firmly wrapped around her waist while Mary walked on her other side. They settled her on the bench, Anthony fussing with the blanket until it was wrapped snugly around her shoulders.

The next hour passed in a blur of choppy waves and Anthony’s increasingly desperate attempts to care for Kate. He fetched water, arranged cushions, and even disappeared briefly below deck to find a piece of bread—which Kate politely waved away with a grimace. Through it all, Mary stayed calm and steady, occasionally exchanging glances with Anthony that carried equal measures of amusement and exasperation at his nervous hovering.

When the ship finally found calmer waters, Kate leaned back against the bench, her head resting against Anthony’s shoulder. She looked a little better, though she still clutched the blanket tightly around her.

“Feeling better?” Anthony asked, his tone hopeful.

Kate nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Better,” she admitted. “Though I’m not sure if that’s because the sea’s calmed or because you’ve stopped hovering like a nursemaid.”

Mary, sitting nearby, let out a soft laugh. “He has been rather… attentive, hasn’t he?”

“I was caring for her.” Anthony grumbled under his breath, but his arm tightened around her shoulders. “You gave me a fright,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

Kate tilted her head, studying her husband for a long moment before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Anthony’s face softened as he turned slightly to meet her lips with his.

“Next time,” Kate said, her voice teasing, “let’s take the long way around.”

Mary chuckled. “That would require you both to have patience, and we know how unlikely that is.”

Anthony laughed, shaking his head. “Next time, I’ll carry you across the Channel myself if it spares you this.”

Kate smiled and leaned into Anthony, her head resting against his shoulder as his arm wrapped securely around her. Mary watched them quietly, a small, wistful smile on her face.

Chapter Text

Back in London, Kate and Anthony barely set foot through the door before the demands of the social season swept them up. Word of their arrival had spread fast, and by afternoon, a summons arrived: they were expected at a ball that very evening.

Anthony groaned dramatically, tipping his head back with an exaggerated sigh. “I thought we’d have a night of peace first,” he grumbled, his hand resting protectively at the small of Kate’s back.

She laughed, a soft, teasing sound, patting his arm. “It’s just a party, Anthony. A few dances, some drinks, and then we’ll be home before you know it.”

The smallest smile lifted the corners of his mouth as she called the Bridgerton house home. He slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her close, his lips brushing hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. “I’d still rather stay in our bed tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion.

Kate giggled, tapping his nose playfully. “That’s what you always say.”

He shrugged, a boyish grin lighting up his face. “That’s because I always mean it.”

As they danced that night, Kate could focus on little besides Anthony's hand on her waist. Every time he pulled her closer, his fingers pressed possessively into her back, setting her nerves alight.

She met his eyes, and the simmering heat there made her breath catch. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he guided her around the floor, his hand drifting a touch lower with every step.

“Anthony,” she hissed, both amused and slightly scandalized by his boldness.

“Yes, my love?” he murmured, his voice tinged with that familiar teasing.

“Behave,” she murmured, struggling to suppress a grin.

But the smirk only deepened as he allowed his hand to drift even lower, his fingers brushing the curve of her hip. Her breath hitched.

“Anthony,” she whispered, glancing around the room with a mixture of amusement and nerves.

“Can we go now?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper, sending a shiver down her spine. “We’ve made an appearance. Surely that’s enough.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “We only just arrived.”

He groaned, earning them both amused looks from nearby dancers, though neither of them noticed or cared. “You’ll have to toughen up, my love,” she teased. “There’s a whole season yet to get through.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “But I need you,” he murmured, his voice a mix of urgency and tenderness. “Now.”

With a slight tug, he led her off the dance floor, barely giving her time to register his intentions before they slipped through a side door. The hallway beyond was dim and deserted, and they made it only a few steps before he opened the door to a quiet study, pulling her inside.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Anthony’s mouth found hers, hot and insistent, his hands roaming her body with fierce purpose. He pressed her back against the door, his body crowding hers as his lips traced the line of her jaw, down to the sensitive hollow of her neck.

“Anthony,” she gasped, breathless, as he lifted her skirts with a possessive, electrifying touch.

“Quiet, darling,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. Without another word, he lifted her against the door, and her legs wrapped around him instinctively, drawing him even closer.

A soft cry escaped her as he entered her in a single, hard thrust, a growl escaping his throat. She moaned, fingers tangling in his hair as he moved against her, his pace urgent, relentless. His hands roamed down her body, squeezing, pressing, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Her mind was a haze of sensation, barely able to keep pace with the rhythm he set. He watched her with a burning intensity, his breath ragged.

His lips brushed her ear, his voice low and possessive. "I'm going to fill you up," he murmured, his words dark and dangerous, "and you’re not going to touch a thing." He thrust into her sharply, drawing another gasp from her. “Then, I’m taking you back to that dance floor, where you’ll smile, you’ll dance, and you’ll pretend you don’t feel me dripping down your thighs.”

“Anthony!” The sheer audacity of his words sent a thrill through her, her cheeks flushed and her breathing unsteady. His grip on her hips tightened, each movement taking her higher, until she could no longer stifle the soft gasps escaping her lips.

He silenced her with a kiss, capturing her moans as his rhythm quickened, driving them both to the peak until, with a shudder and a low groan, he reached his release, carrying her with him into a shared wave of ecstasy.

As the haze of passion slowly faded, he gazed at her with a mixture of desire and adoration, his thumb brushing gently over her flushed cheek. Her legs felt weak as he carefully lowered her, adjusting her skirts with hands that lingered a bit longer than necessary, his touch still possessive and warm.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers as they caught their breath together. With a final kiss to her forehead, he gently tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “Now,” he murmured, a playful glint in his eye, “shall we return to the ball, Lady Bridgerton?”

Chapter Text

Anthony's study was quiet, save for the faint crackling of the fire and the rhythmic scratch of his pen against parchment. The honeymoon was officially over. Their months of exploring new lands, visiting Edwina and Mary in Prussia, and indulging in languid days of each other’s company were now firmly in the past. Reality had arrived with a vengeance, bringing with it ledgers, correspondence, and responsibilities that had Anthony planted at his desk from morning until night.

Kate paused outside his study, hesitating for only a moment before she raised her hand to knock. Before her knuckles could land a second time, Anthony’s voice rang out, short and sharp.

“What?”

Kate arched a brow, her lips twitching. Without waiting for further invitation, she opened the door and stepped inside. “That’s no way to greet your wife, my love.”

Anthony’s head snapped up, his expression softening instantly. He set his pen down with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Kate,” he said, his voice gentler now. “I’m sorry—I thought it was someone else.” He leaned back in his chair, gesturing to her. “You don’t need to knock. Ever. You’re always welcome here.”

Kate’s amusement lingered as she stepped toward him, her skirts rustling softly in the quiet room. “You could have fooled me,” she teased, stopping beside his chair. “The bellowing ‘what’ seemed very clear.”

Anthony groaned, his hands wrapping around her waist and tugging her onto his lap before she could protest. “Forgive me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It’s been a long morning.”

Kate settled against him easily, looping her arms around his neck. “You don’t seem to mind interruptions so much now,” she quipped, her smile playful.

“That’s because you’re the interruption,” Anthony replied, his tone lighter now. He looked up at her, his dark eyes softening. “I’m a fool for having ever said I was homesick. I’d give anything to be alone on a Grecian beach with you again.”

She sighed dramatically, though her fingers toyed fondly with the collar of his shirt. “I would too,” she confessed. “No ledgers. No papers. Just us.”

Anthony grunted. “No interruptions from footmen and stewards and…” He waved vaguely toward the door. “Life.”

“Life,” Kate echoed softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw. “Do you think we could just run away again?”

Anthony tilted his head, smirking as he glanced up at her. “Tempting. Though I’m not sure the ton would look kindly on a viscount and viscountess who disappear for a second honeymoon.”

“Let them gossip,” she said with mock indignation. “It’s not as though we haven’t given them enough to talk about already.”

Anthony chuckled, his hands resting possessively on her hips. “True enough.”

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the quiet intimacy between them so easy and natural that the months apart from London felt like an entire lifetime.

Anthony’s thumb traced slow circles over her waist. “You’ve ruined me, you know.”

Kate’s brow quirked. “Ruined you?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I was quite content to work diligently in this study before. Now I find myself distracted… thinking about you. About how much I’d rather have you sitting here—” He squeezed her gently, a devilish smile tugging at his lips. “—than dealing with any of that.”

Kate laughed softly, but her breath hitched when Anthony’s hand slid a little lower, pulling her closer against him. His gaze turned darker, heat flickering behind his playful demeanor.

“Anthony,” she murmured, a warning and an invitation all at once.

He pressed a kiss to her throat, his voice a husky murmur against her skin. “Lock the door.”

Kate blinked, her cheeks warming. “What?”

“You heard me, Kate,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Lock the door.”

Kate slid off his lap, the thrill of his command buzzing under her skin. She turned the key in the lock with a soft click, her heart thudding as she turned back to face him.

Anthony was already on his feet, prowling toward her with deliberate steps.

“Do you think I’ll ever get enough of you?” he asked, his voice rough as he reached her. He spun her gently, pressing her hands to the edge of the desk.

“Anthony—” she started, but her words broke off into a gasp as he pressed himself against her back, his hands sliding up her sides and pulling her firmly against him.

“Quiet, Kate,” he murmured, his lips grazing the curve of her neck. “I’ve spent all morning thinking about you. Now I want you exactly like this.”

Kate’s breath caught as his hands found their way under her gown, his touch firm and unrelenting. The scent of him—clean linen and a faint trace of tobacco—enveloped her, mingling with the warm crackle of the fire and the quiet rustle of fabric.

“Did you miss me?” he whispered, his hands sliding between her legs and pushing apart her thighs.

Kate nodded, her voice trembling as she replied, “Yes. Always.”

Anthony’s answering growl sent a shiver down her spine. “Good.”

With slow precision, he guided her forward until she was bent over the edge of his desk, her hands splayed against the dark wood. He kissed the nape of her neck, his voice low and reverent as he said, “You are everything, Kate. Everything I ever wanted.” He chuckled, his tone turning wicked as he pressed himself against her center. “Now be a good girl and keep quiet.”

Kate shivered at the deliberate, possessive weight of his words, her breath catching as his hands spread over her waist, holding her steady. The hard edge of the desk bit into her palms, grounding her as her body melted under Anthony’s touch.

“You’re far too good at this,” she managed to whisper, her voice unsteady.

Anthony chuckled darkly, his lips grazing her ear as his hands slid lower. “At what, exactly?” he murmured, his voice teasing yet firm. “At knowing what you need? At keeping you right here—where you belong?”

Kate whimpered softly, pressing back against him instinctively, and Anthony exhaled a rough breath, his control fraying at the edges. “God, Kate,” he growled, his grip on her hips tightening. “You drive me mad.”

He nudged her hair aside, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the slope of her neck, each touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The silk of her gown bunched higher and higher as his hands explored her, his fingertips branding her skin.

“I spent the last two weeks convincing myself we could return to normal life,” he said, his tone low and rough, the fire of his restraint barely contained. “Convincing myself I could sit through meetings, dinners, and all the insufferable duties of the ton without this.” He bent to kiss the line of her spine, the rasp of his breath hot against her skin. “Without you.”

Kate swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. “Anthony…” Her voice was a plea, breathless and unsteady.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands framing her waist possessively. “This is what happens, my love, when you interrupt me. You sit on my lap, tempt me with that smile, and then expect me to work?” He laughed softly, wickedly, as he guided her hips back against him. “I’d sooner burn the ledgers.”

Her head tipped forward as he dragged her impossibly closer, the ache of wanting him thrumming through her. “You wouldn’t,” she teased weakly, her voice shaking.

“Wouldn’t I?” Anthony’s voice dropped to a husky whisper, his fingers tracing slow circles along her thigh. “I’d burn every book, every scrap of paper on this desk if it meant keeping you here, bent over it like this.”

Kate gasped at the intensity in his voice, her hands curling into fists against the desk as the warmth of his body surrounded her.

“Say you’re mine,” he whispered, his lips returning to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. “Say it.”

Kate tilted her head to meet his lips, her voice trembling with need. “I’m yours, Anthony. Always.”

He groaned softly, his teeth grazing the edge of her jaw before he pulled back just enough to look at her. “You’d best be quiet, Kate,” he murmured, his dark eyes blazing as they held hers. “We wouldn’t want the servants talking.”

A thrill shot through her at the warning, her cheeks flushed and her breath shaky as Anthony finally gave her what she craved—firm, sure, and utterly relentless. The sound of her soft moans filled the room as she clung to the desk, her mind lost to the pleasure he pulled from her so effortlessly.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he whispered against her shoulder, his voice reverent even as his pace grew bolder, needier. “Completely mine.”

When Kate finally shattered, her cries muffled by her own hand, Anthony followed moments later, pressing himself close to her, his breath ragged and his arms wrapping around her as though he’d never let her go.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies still tangled and breathless, the study silent but for the low crackle of the fire.

Anthony’s lips brushed her shoulder, his voice soft now, tender as it broke through the quiet. “I think we’ll have to lock this door more often.”

Kate let out a breathless laugh, still slumped against the desk. “I’m fairly certain you’re going to ruin your reputation, Lord Bridgerton.”

Anthony chuckled, smoothing his hands along her waist before straightening her gown. “My reputation can suffer. My wife, however…” He turned her gently to face him, tilting her chin up to press a lingering kiss to her lips. “Will always come first.”

Chapter Text

In the following days, Kate noticed Newton was unusually attached to her side. Everywhere she went—whether she was dressing in the morning, or reading by the window, or pausing in the garden—Newton was there, vigilant and steadfast. He trotted beside her, his eyes watchful, and if anyone other than Anthony came too close, the corgi let out a low, disapproving rumble.

Anthony, amused at first, began to grow annoyed at the dog being constantly underfoot. One morning, Anthony nearly stepped on Newton when he tried to give Kate a kiss. The dog let out a sharp yelp.

“Good Lord,” Anthony said, stepping back. “What is going on with your demon?”

Kate laughed, brushing a hand over Newton’s head. "He’s just being affectionate, Anthony. There’s nothing to worry about."

Anthony crouched down, meeting Newton’s unblinking gaze with mock gravity. "Is that so? Or are you staging a coup?” He pointed at the dog accusingly. "This looks suspiciously like a bid for my title as Kate’s Favorite."

Kate rolled her eyes, but her laugh came easily. “Bold of you to assume it was ever yours in the first place,” she mumbled, scratching Newton’s ears.

Kate lay nestled in the soft sheets of her bed, one hand resting on Newton’s back as the corgi curled protectively beside her. A dull ache throbbed in her temples, one of many recent headaches. She took a slow breath, feeling Newton shift closer, his warm, steady presence a small comfort.

The door creaked open, and she glanced up to see Anthony, his expression softening. “Should I be worried my wife has started replacing me with a dog?” he teased, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

She chuckled, though the laughter sent a slight pang through her head. “You’re welcome to join, though you might have to win Newton’s approval first.”

Anthony leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Just a bit of a headache,” she replied with a tired smile. “I think it’s from planning these balls. All the invitations, decor…” She waved a hand, dismissing the mountain of details they’d been handling. “It’s absurd.”

Anthony chuckled, lying back beside her with an exaggerated sigh. “Why are we doing two of these again?”

“Three, actually,” Kate sighed. “Lady Danbury convinced me to co-host another one with her.”

“Again, why?” he asked, grumbling.

Kate grinned at his expression. “Something about showing off the new Viscountess Bridgerton.”

“Ah, well,” he said, his face breaking into a wide, beaming smile. “That’s a pretty good reason.” He kissed her gently. “Although I can think of several better ideas besides another ball.”

Kate’s headache faded for a moment. “Yes, gowns, dancing, endless introductions—what could possibly be worse?”

“Let’s not forget the flower arrangements,” he added, feigning a shudder.

Kate rolled her eyes. “If Violet suggests pink peonies one more time…” She trailed off, then laughed, catching herself. “Oh! I’m complaining about your mother!”

Anthony burst out laughing, a deep, uninhibited sound that made her laugh too.

She slapped his shoulder, half-embarrassed. “Don’t tell her I said anything. She’s been so helpful.”

“No, please,” he said, still laughing, “go on. I love hearing someone else say it for a change.”

Kate relaxed, laughing with him. “Alright then. But I’ll need your support when she brings up peonies again.”

“Oh, you have it,” he assured, lying down beside her opposite Newton and wrapping his arm around her. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know you don’t enjoy it, but you’re doing a wonderful job. My mother’s said many times how impressed she is with your ‘innate hosting abilities.’”

Kate laughed, ignoring the flare of pain in her head. “Is it really that difficult? It’s just food and flowers.”

Anthony chuckled, his warmth easing her. “Not everyone has your knack for it.”

They drifted into a comfortable silence, the quiet only broken by Newton’s soft snores. Kate smiled, looking from the dog to her husband. “This is nice,” she sighed. “My favorite boys.”

Chapter Text

The morning of the first Bridgerton ball, Kate woke up feeling ill. The headache that had plagued her earlier that week still pulsed behind her eyes, and a sense of fatigue weighed her down like a heavy blanket. As she sank into her bath, her body ached with a tension she couldn’t quite explain.

A gentle knock came at the door. “Kate?”

“Yes?” She forced a smile as Anthony stepped in.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern flickering in his gaze.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she replied, her voice sharper than she intended. Seeing his face fall, she softened. “I’m sorry. It’s just a little headache. I’m fine, really.”

Anthony kneeled beside the tub, brushing a damp tendril from her face and pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Are you anxious about tonight?”

She sank further into the warm water, taking comfort in his closeness. Though she and Anthony had been married for eight months now, tonight would be their first “official” debut as viscount and viscountess in front of the ton. But the truth was, she didn’t care about their opinions. At least, she told herself she didn’t.

Her mouth curled into a small smile. “No, not really.” She paused. “Should I be?”

Anthony chuckled. “Not at all. But I’d understand if you were.” He lazily dipped his hand into the water, swirling his fingers in circles through the warm soap bubbles. “Are you looking forward to it?”

“Not particularly, no,” she said, smirking. “I’d much rather have a quiet night alone with you.”

“So would I,” he murmured, his hand drifting lower, searching for her skin.

“Anthony,” she giggled. “You’re going to get your sleeve wet.”

He chuckled, then unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his broad chest and arms. “Can I come in?”

She nodded, scooting forward to make room for him as he undressed. He slipped into the tub, the water rising precariously close to the rim. Kate sighed as she leaned back into him, his warmth pressing against her. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his arms around her. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, simply letting the moment settle around them.

Anthony broke the comfortable silence. “I am looking forward to showing off my incredible viscountess tonight.” His hand drifted down below waist, his lips grazing her neck.

She let her head fall back onto his shoulder, allowing herself to be enveloped by his warmth and affection. He cupped her breast with one hand, tracing slow circles with the other, his voice low and coaxing in her ear as he carried her into a release.

Eventually, the water cooled, and they reluctantly pulled themselves away from their sanctuary, sharing a lingering kiss before parting to prepare for the evening.

The Bridgerton estate buzzed with activity as evening guests began to arrive. Standing poised at the entrance, Kate was a vision in the new gown Anthony had chosen for her—a stunning piece of silk in deep sapphire that shimmered in the candlelight.

So this is my life now, she thought, marveling at how far she’d come from her quiet, simple days in India. But as strange as it was, she found herself feeling…comfortable. And that was perhaps the strangest part of all.

“I must say, Kate, you've done an excellent job,” Benedict said, appearing beside her, his gaze sweeping over the crowded hall filled with elegant bouquets and lavish banquet tables.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning in to hug him. “Do not tell anyone I said so, but it's not difficult. Good wine and music go a long way.”

Benedict laughed. “You truly did marry well, brother,” he said, grinning at Anthony, who joined them. Anthony grinned back, pride evident in his face as he took Kate’s hand.

As the night progressed, Anthony swept Kate into a lively dance. “Everyone’s talking about our splendid hostess,” he teased, twirling her under the glow of the chandeliers.

“Oh, I hope they don’t expect me to keep this up,” Kate replied with a faint smile, trying to mask her lingering fatigue.

Anthony’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Not enjoying our glamorous lifestyle, my love?”

She giggled. “It does seem like an awful lot of fuss for a party, does it not?” she whispered.

“Indeed,” he replied, smirking. “But alas, this is what you signed up for, Lady Bridgerton.”

Kate sighed, leaning into him with a contented smile. “Well, perhaps it’s worth the fuss then.”

Later, as the ball began to wind down, a wave of nausea swept over Kate, catching her off guard. She quickly excused herself, slipping outside to the garden, where the cool night air brushed against her warm cheeks. She took several deep breaths, willing her stomach to settle. She knew she couldn’t be foodsick, but the thought made her grimace anyway. Wouldn’t that be just my luck, she thought. The new viscountess giving the entire ton food poisoning.

As she looked up at the sky, an odd realization dawned on her: she hadn’t had her monthly bleeding in… how long had it been now? A few weeks at least. She shook the thought away, trying to dismiss it as stress or exhaustion from planning the ball.

Anthony’s footsteps drew near, and she glanced back at him as he approached.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes searching hers, worry threading his voice.

“Yes,” she replied, her tone firmer than she felt. She looked up at the heavy full moon, letting its cool light ease her thoughts. “It’s just been a long day.”

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “You’ll have to toughen up,” he said, chuckling against her skin. “We have to do a whole season of this, remember?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “How did I get talked into this twice more?”

Anthony laughed, pulling her closer. “Twice more this season,” he reminded her. “Who knows how many of these we’ll have to endure in the years ahead?”

Despite her fatigue, she smiled, tilting her head up to kiss him deeply. “When you put it that way…I look forward to hosting a hundred more balls with you.”

He threw his head back with a laugh. “A hundred? I think you’re getting carried away.”

Kate giggled. As they made their way back inside, she felt the faintest flicker of a kind of hope, one she hadn’t dared to voice yet.

Chapter Text

Kate blinked awake slowly the next morning, the faint light of dawn peeking through the curtains. The now-familiar fatigue weighed on her, her head foggy and heavy even after a night’s sleep.

As she stretched, a thought that had been nagging at the edge of her mind the night before suddenly took root. Her cycle. She counted the weeks in her mind, her fingers tapping against the sheet as she pieced it together. She was late, unusually so. A strange thrill tingled through her as realization dawned: she could be pregnant.

For a moment, she lay still, her hand resting lightly on her abdomen, her heartbeat fluttering with excitement and a faint hint of worry. Could it really be? The thought felt fragile, like a piece of glass she dared not hold too tightly. But the hope blossomed regardless, filling her with a cautious, quiet joy.

“Anthony?” she whispered, glancing over at him. He lay beside her, sound asleep, his face softened in the early morning light. Her heart raced at the sight, at the thought of sharing this secret.

But a faint hint of anxiety tugged at her, reminding her not to leap too far ahead. She bit her lip, trying to steady herself.

As if sensing her gaze, Anthony stirred, stretching an arm over his head before blinking awake. His eyes met hers, and a sleepy smile spread across his face. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice low and warm.

“Good morning.” She returned his smile, feeling the quiet thrill building within her.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing the thoughtful look in her eyes. “Are you alright?”

Kate took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Anthony, I…” She paused, watching his face, searching for the right words. “I think—I think I may be… pregnant.”

For a moment, he simply stared at her, his expression softening as her words sank in. His eyes flickered with excitement and a trace of disbelief. “Are you certain?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Not entirely,” she admitted, her own tone uncertain. “But it makes sense…” Her voice trailed off, and she cast her gaze down, doubt creeping in.

But Anthony’s face lit up, his smile growing broader as he took her hands, holding them firmly in his own. “Kate,” he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace that felt both protective and reverent. “If it’s true… I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am.”

Before she could say another word, he was already out of bed and heading for the door.

“Higgins!” he called, summoning the butler in a commanding voice that echoed down the hall.

Kate’s eyes widened, and she stumbled out of the bed, reaching out to catch him as he turned back toward her, a determined look on his face.

“Anthony!” she laughed despite herself. “You’ll wake the whole house.”

“Let’s wake them,” he replied, his eyes alight with such a pure, unguarded joy that her heart skipped a beat. “I want to tell the world.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, gently grounding him. “Anthony, we don’t even know for certain.”

“That’s what I’m calling Higgins for,” he said. “I’ll have him send for Dr. Morton to confirm it today. We should clear your schedule. You’ll need to rest more. It can be very hard, Kate—my mother was very sick at points during her pregnancies,” he continued, thinking aloud with barely-contained excitement. “But you are so strong, my love; you will do wonderfully. Lady Danbury will have to host our ball herself, but I am sure she will understand—”

“Anthony,” she interrupted, gently pulling him back, his face suddenly inches from hers. “Take a breath.”

He paused, and a blush crept over his face. His hands found hers again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I’m sorry. I… I’m just so happy, Kate.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, his enthusiasm and adoration spilling over.

“Me too,” she said softly, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “But let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.”

He nodded, though his hand drifted instinctively to her abdomen, his gaze softening. He met her eyes with a look of boyish eagerness. “One step at a time,” he agreed.

That afternoon, Kate and Anthony waited in the quiet of their bedroom, a hush settling around them as the doctor conducted his examination. Anthony’s impatience was palpable; he hadn’t stopped pacing since the man arrived. Kate had convinced him to summon the doctor discreetly, reminding him they didn’t want to raise any false hopes with the family. Still, the energy radiating from him was irrepressible, his eyes shining with a hope so intense it made her heart ache.

Newton, as if sensing the importance of the moment, stood by the bed, casting the doctor a wary look whenever he moved too close. The little corgi seemed determined to keep watch, his small, stout body positioned protectively at Kate’s side.

At last, the doctor straightened, tucking his tools away. “Lady Bridgerton,” he said kindly, “based on your symptoms, I’d say it’s very likely you’re with child. But these things take time to confirm. I’ll return in a few weeks—hopefully, by then, we’ll have something more definitive.”

Anthony’s face lit up. “Very likely,” he repeated, his voice brimming with excitement. He managed a hasty thank-you as he escorted the doctor to the door, but as soon as they were alone, he practically bounded across the room, a broad smile stretching across his face. “Very likely!”

Newton barked sharply at him as he came closer to the bed, clearly not willing to let his guard down. But Anthony, in his joy, simply laughed and lifted the dog, depositing him gently on the bed beside Kate. Newton’s surprise melted into contentment as he flopped onto his side, pressing warmly against her.

She laughed, her fingers brushing over Newton’s soft fur as she tried to steady herself. “We don’t know anything yet, Anthony,” she murmured, more for her own reassurance than his. “It’s still so early. I don’t want to…” Her voice wavered, and she looked down, unable to speak the worry aloud.

“Kate,” he whispered, his voice full of gentle reassurance. “It’s alright to be hopeful. Excited, even.”

Newton let out a low rumble as Anthony’s hand covered Kate’s, his eyes narrowing as he met Anthony’s gaze. “You don’t think…” Anthony began, casting a skeptical glance at Newton.

Kate tilted her head, an amused smile on her lips. “He is smarter than you give him credit for,” she said, scratching Newton behind his ears as he sighed contentedly, finally settling down as if assured that all was well for now.

Anthony’s gaze softened, drifting between Kate and Newton with a hint of reluctant fondness. “I suppose it’s as good a reason as any for him to be such a nuisance.”

Kate laughed, fully and freely, and Anthony grinned, leaning in closer. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face, his gaze tender. “Kate,” he murmured, his tone soft and full of emotion, “I want to hold you.”

He slipped his arms around her, drawing her close. She nestled against him, feeling the warmth and strength of his embrace as if it could shield her from every uncertainty. His fingers traced slow, reassuring circles along her back, and as he leaned down to kiss her, his touch was reverent, filled with a quiet promise.

The kiss deepened, a whisper of all they couldn’t say, of the shared hope they didn’t dare speak. Anthony’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her further into his embrace as she surrendered to the safe, steady warmth of his love.

Newton, perhaps sensing that his duty was fulfilled, gave a soft huff and curled into a little ball on the far side of the bed. Anthony chuckled, his forehead resting gently against hers. “It seems your loyal friend is finally willing to share.”

His hands skimmed along her sides, pulling her closer as he murmured against her skin, “I think I fell in love with you all over again today, Kate.” She could hear the raw affection in his voice, and it made her heart swell.

They moved together, sharing quiet laughter and whispered words as they explored this new tenderness between them. Entwined afterward in the comfortable silence of their room, Kate felt the weight of her earlier worries lift. Here, wrapped in Anthony’s arms, everything felt possible.

Chapter Text

Kate stirred as the first light of morning filtered through the curtains, her body still heavy with sleep. She let out a soft sigh, rolling onto her side—and immediately felt the weight of a gaze on her.

Her eyes fluttered open to find Anthony propped on one elbow, watching her with such quiet reverence that she blinked in surprise. His expression was unbearably soft, and a small, private smile tugged at his lips.

Kate huffed a sleepy laugh. “Anthony. What are you doing?”

His smile widened, and he brushed a lock of hair from her cheek with gentle fingers. “Looking at my incredible wife. The beautiful mother of my child.”

Kate gave him a drowsy, indulgent look. “Are you always this sentimental in the morning?”

“I don’t know.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then her temple, then her nose. “I’ve never woken up to the possibility of being a father before.”

Warmth curled through her chest. She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” He kissed her knuckles. “And you are radiant.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Anthony, I just woke up.”

“And I am utterly enchanted,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to her hand before slipping out of bed. “Now, stay here. I am having breakfast brought up.”

Kate sat up on her elbows. “I can go downstairs—”

“No, no, no.” He waved her back against the pillows. “You are in delicate condition.”

Kate raised a brow. “You do realize I am not actually confirmed to be with child yet, don’t you?”

He waved this off as well. “Still. You mustn’t exert yourself unnecessarily.”

Kate huffed but could not stop the smile tugging at her lips as Anthony rang for a maid and promptly ordered breakfast to be sent up for them both. When it arrived, Anthony insisted on arranging the tray himself, making a great show of buttering her toast and adding exactly the right amount of milk to her tea.

“Eat,” he instructed, sliding a bite-sized piece of toast onto her plate. “And don’t argue.”

Kate gave him a look. “I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, you know.”

“Of course you are.” He smiled. “But why should you, when I can do it for you?”

Kate could only shake her head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness blooming in her chest.

After breakfast, Anthony asked—no, pleaded—for her to accompany him to his study while he worked. She humored him, curling up on the sofa with a book, expecting him to get lost in his ledgers and correspondence as usual.

He did not.

Kate glanced up from her reading, and sure enough, Anthony had his elbow propped on the desk, chin resting on his hand, simply staring at her with a dreamy sort of expression.

She arched a brow. “Are you planning on actually working today?”

“Hm?” He blinked, then waved a hand vaguely at his untouched papers. “Oh, I suppose I should.”

Kate smirked. “You’ve been staring at me for the past ten minutes.”

“That cannot be true,” Anthony said with feigned innocence.

Kate lifted her book pointedly. “I counted three pages.”

Anthony blinked. “That’s hardly definitive.”

“You were holding your quill upside down.”

He glanced at the ink-stained side of his hand, then grinned and abandoned all pretense, crossing the room to sink onto the sofa beside her. “You cannot blame me. I have a beautiful wife, and I am very, very fond of her.”

Kate chuckled. “This is a new level of besotted, even for you.”

“I know.” He kissed the back of her hand, then her wrist. “And I regret nothing.”

Kate rolled her eyes, but her heart felt impossibly light.

If Kate thought Anthony had reached his peak of ridiculousness, she was mistaken.

As soon as they entered the drawing room for afternoon tea, Anthony guided her to a chair with the utmost care, arranging a cushion behind her as though she were made of glass.

Then, to her utter astonishment, he took it upon himself to prepare her tea.

“Kate,” he murmured, examining the teapot with great focus, “do you want sugar today? You usually don’t, but I read that sometimes preferences change.”

Kate stared at him. “I—yes. Just one.”

He carefully stirred it in and handed her the cup with a look of great satisfaction. “And biscuits?”

“I can get them myself—”

“Nonsense.” Anthony was already reaching for the plate. “Shortbread, yes?”

Kate could only laugh as she accepted the biscuit he selected, watching as he hovered beside her, radiating absolute devotion.

Across the room, Benedict and Colin exchanged a bewildered glance.

Colin leaned over. “Is he ill?”

Benedict tilted his head. “Or possibly in trouble?”

Eloise, looking equally perplexed, studied Anthony with narrowed eyes. “He must be hiding something.”

Violet, however, simply sipped her tea, watching with a knowing smile. She had suspected the truth the moment Kate and Anthony returned from Prussia. Today only confirmed it.

She caught Kate’s eye, and Kate immediately looked away, fighting a blush.

Violet chuckled to herself.

When they entered the dining room, Anthony made a beeline for his usual seat at the head of the table—only to pull out the chair directly beside it instead of taking his own.

Colin, who had just approached said chair, paused mid-step. “That’s my seat.”

Anthony ignored him entirely, turning to Kate with all the chivalry of a man escorting a queen to her throne. “Darling, sit here.”

Kate arched a brow. “Isn’t this—”

“Yours now,” Anthony declared smoothly, pressing a guiding hand to her lower back as he all but installed her in Colin’s chair.

Colin scoffed. “Oh, unbelievable.”

“You’ll manage,” Anthony said, unrepentant, as he settled into his own seat beside her.

Colin grumbled but took the vacant seat next to Benedict, who was watching the entire spectacle with open amusement.

“You know,” Benedict mused, “I do believe we once had a rule about you two sitting next to each other.”

“An excellent rule,” Colin muttered.

Anthony, who had already begun cutting Kate’s food with meticulous care, waved a dismissive hand. “Irrelevant.”

Kate snorted. “Anthony, you do realize this is precisely why they made the rule?”

Colin leaned over, watching in abject horror as Anthony speared a bite of roast and placed it neatly on Kate’s plate. “Good lord, if you start feeding her yourself, I will have to leave the room.”

Anthony didn’t even glance up. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

Kate stared at him, then burst into laughter. “Anthony!”

He looked up, perfectly serious. “What?”

Kate groaned, shaking her head. “You are being ridiculous.”

“I am being caring,” he corrected.

Across the table, Colin snorted. “Has he suffered a head injury?”

Benedict nodded. “That would explain a lot.”

Anthony ignored them entirely, focused solely on ensuring Kate ate to his satisfaction. Kate, rather than be exasperated, found herself unable to stop smiling.

As they prepared for bed, Kate turned to Anthony, hands on her hips. “You do realize that you have been absolutely ridiculous today.”

Anthony gave her an innocent look. “Me? Ridiculous? Never.”

Kate huffed a laugh. “You were watching me sleep. You brought me breakfast in bed. You stared at me all morning. You practically fed me at dinner.”

Anthony nodded. “Yes. All perfectly reasonable behavior.”

Kate arched a brow. “Anthony.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Perhaps I got a bit carried away.”

“A bit?” she teased.

“I was trying to be subtle.”

Kate laughed outright. “That was your idea of subtle?”

“Yes!” he said indignantly. “I was holding back!”

Kate shook her head, still laughing. “Try holding back harder.”

His brow furrowed in mock indignation. “Darling, if that was not subtle, I am afraid I am beyond help.”

Kate smirked. “Then I shall pray for you.”

Anthony grinned, rolling on top of her, caging her in with his arms. “I have a better idea.”

Kate arched a brow. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. “Let’s see if I can make you just as insufferably in love with me.”

Kate hummed against his mouth. “You already have.”

Chapter Text

Kate sat poised in a high-backed chair, draped in a deep turquoise gown that shimmered under the soft afternoon light. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant chignon, loose curls artfully framing her face, and around her neck rested a delicate diamond necklace, a Bridgerton heirloom. The gown was newly tailored, fitted to perfection—though, if she were honest, she had noticed it was a touch snugger than expected.

Anthony stood beside her, his hand resting delicately on her shoulder, dressed in a fitted navy coat and crisp white cravat, the picture of a proper viscount. Or at least, he would have been, had he not been shifting restlessly.

“Hold still, Anthony,” Benedict called from his seat by the window, smirking over the rim of his teacup. “Your jaw looks particularly tense—are you attempting to intimidate the artist?”

Anthony exhaled sharply through his nose but didn’t take the bait. He was already struggling to remain upright after standing in the same position for what felt like an eternity. His back ached, his legs burned, and an unpleasant warmth prickled at his skin beneath his perfectly tailored jacket.

Kate noticed.

It was subtle, at first—his fingers twitched slightly where they rested on her shoulder, his weight shifting more than it should have for a man accustomed to standing at length. But when she caught sight of his profile out of the corner of her eye, she felt the first flicker of concern. His complexion was unusually pale, his jaw tight with something beyond irritation.

And then there was Newton.

The corgi, who had been napping near the hearth, had abandoned his usual state of blissful indifference and was now planted firmly at Anthony’s feet. Every few minutes, he let out a soft, restless whine, nudging at Anthony’s boot with his nose.

Anthony nudged him back.

Kate gave a patient, amused smile, her posture impeccable, her hands gently resting in her lap. “Perhaps if you hadn’t insisted on standing,” she murmured, not bothering to glance at him.

“I am the Viscount,” Anthony muttered under his breath. “A viscount does not lounge for his portrait. I’m not about to make a mockery of the title.”

Kate hummed in amusement, but her eyes flicked to Newton, who had begun circling Anthony’s legs anxiously. That flicker of concern in her chest grew.

“You say that as though your family isn’t already making a spectacle of the process,” she countered, nodding subtly toward the audience gathered in the room.

Indeed, nearly the entire Bridgerton clan had arrived for what was supposed to be a quiet sitting. What should have been a subdued affair had quickly devolved into an afternoon of unsolicited commentary and thinly veiled mockery.

Colin leaned lazily against the mantel, watching the proceedings with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re unusually quiet today, Eloise,” he mused, tilting his head. “No scathing commentary on Anthony’s pompous stance?”

“Oh, I’m certain I’ll think of something,” Eloise said smoothly, her fingers tapping idly against her book.

“We could have you pose too,” Benedict suggested with a grin. “The way you lounge about so dramatically—imagine how future generations would admire the pose of ‘Melancholy Spinster Bridgerton.’”

Eloise’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Yes,” she said dryly. “How glorious that would be.”

The others laughed. Eloise didn’t.

She flipped another page in her book, her voice dripping with dry amusement. “A grand portrait to commemorate your first season together,” she mused, not looking up. “How utterly predictable.”

Anthony shot her a look. “And what, exactly, is wrong with predictability?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” Eloise replied airily. “Unless you find the thought of being trapped in a cycle of obligation for the rest of your life even remotely unsettling.”

Kate turned slightly, her brows knitting together. The comment didn’t seem aimed at Anthony or herself in particular—but at something much larger, something unspoken.

Anthony, however, wasn’t inclined to let it pass unnoticed. His gaze sharpened. “Eloise—”

“Oh, don’t worry, dearest brother,” she interrupted with a mockingly sweet smile. “I’ll make sure to sit for my own stifling family portrait someday. Assuming, of course, I haven’t drowned myself in my teacup before then.”

“Eloise,” Violet said, her voice carrying a quiet warning.

Eloise only shrugged. “Just a thought.” She turned back to her book. “Kate, you look stunning,” she said without looking up. “Anthony, you appear… deeply unwell.”

“Eloise,” Violet scolded gently from her seat near the artist, though her lips twitched in suppressed amusement.

“I’m just saying,” Eloise continued, finally glancing over. “He looks rather pale, doesn’t he?”

Kate turned her head slightly—just enough to inspect her husband without ruining the composition of the portrait. Now that she was really looking at him, she could see it: a faint sheen of sweat lined his hairline, and though his jaw remained firm, his grip on her shoulder was no longer steady. His fingers flexed slightly, as though trying to shake off a numbness.

“Anthony?” she murmured softly, concern flickering in her voice. She reached her hand up to touch his where it rested on her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, shifting his stance, as if willing himself to feel better. “Standing this long is simply—” He stopped abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath.

He exhaled slowly, willing himself to ignore the building heat under his jacket. His back ached, his collar felt too tight, and his skin prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t just from standing too long—he knew that now. “I’m fine.”

Newton whined louder, nosing insistently at Anthony’s leg.

The painter, a sharp-angled man in spectacles named Mr. Lambert, let out a strangled sound of frustration. "Lady Bridgerton—please—"

Kate chuckled, running a hand over Newton’s ears. "You’re making this rather difficult," she told him gently.

Anthony sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course he is."

Kate turned to the artist, amusement in her voice. "We could always include him in the portrait."

Benedict choked on a laugh.

Colin grinned. "Oh, please do."

Mr. Lambert, who already looked near his wit’s end, groaned. "My lady, while I am certain he is a fine companion, I do not believe—"

Anthony rolled his eyes but didn’t have the energy to push the dog away. The warmth in his chest had grown into a dull pressure, spreading in slow, uncomfortable waves. His stomach churned unpleasantly, and for the first time, he wondered if Eloise’s teasing had merit.

"Actually," Anthony cut in, to everyone’s surprise, "I think that’s a fine idea."

Kate blinked. "You do?"

Anthony lifted a shoulder. "The dog is a menace, but he’s also yours." He shot Newton a look. "And for some unfathomable reason, I suppose that means I must tolerate him."

Kate arched a brow. “Anthony,” she said, her voice lower now, more insistent. “Are you feeling alright?”

Anthony forced a smile, though it felt wrong on his lips, stiff and unfamiliar.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, ignoring the slight tremor in his hands. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Kate didn’t look convinced. And neither did Newton.

Chapter Text

The spring rain pattered gently against the tall windows of Bridgerton House, blurring the view of the garden below. Inside the drawing room, a cozy fire crackled in the grate, and the air buzzed with laughter and light conversation. Violet sat comfortably in her favorite armchair, her embroidery hoop balanced delicately in her lap. Across from her, Kate reclined on a fainting couch, a book resting open on her lap, though she seemed more entertained by the conversation than her reading.

Anthony, on the other hand, stood by the window with his arms crossed, staring moodily out into the rain. His usual polished appearance was marred by faint circles under his eyes and the occasional sniffle.

“You look dreadful, Anthony,” Violet said lightly, though concern tinged her voice. “Are you certain you’re feeling well?”

Anthony turned, his brow furrowing. “I’m fine, Mother.”

Kate raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “My love, you’ve said ‘I’m fine’ at least five times in the last hour, and yet I believe you less and less.”

Violet chuckled softly, exchanging an amused glance with Kate. “He’s always been stubborn about admitting weakness. Even as a boy, he’d insist he was perfectly fine with a skinned knee and a bloodied nose.”

Anthony let out an indignant huff, rubbing at his temples. “You two are insufferable.”

Kate’s smile softened as she set her book aside and rose from the fainting couch, crossing the room to stand beside him. She reached up to press the back of her hand against his forehead, her brow creasing slightly. “You’re warm, Anthony.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted again, though his voice was hoarse, and a faint flush colored his cheeks.

“Stubborn man,” Kate murmured, her eyes searching his face. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. Between Parliament and that dreadful land dispute… no wonder you’re ill.”

“I cannot afford to be ill,” Anthony said gruffly, pulling away and turning back toward the window. “Not now.”

His voice faltered slightly on those last words, and Kate knew exactly why. The suspicion of her pregnancy hung unspoken between them, a fragile hope wrapped in uncertainty.

Violet cleared her throat delicately. “Anthony, you may be a viscount, but even a viscount cannot outwit a fever. You will rest, and you will let Kate look after you. Or, I swear, I shall call for the doctor myself.”

Anthony sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he turned back to face them. “Very well. I will rest. But only if Kate promises to keep her distance.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I am not made of glass, Anthony. Nor am I going to catch your fever simply by being in the same room.”

Anthony's mouth pressed into a thin line, his worry clear despite his silence.

Violet rose from her chair, setting aside her embroidery. “I’ll have a tray sent up with some broth and tea. Kate, do keep him in bed, will you?”

Kate nodded, her lips twitching with faint amusement as Violet swept from the room, leaving them alone.

Anthony sat on the edge of their bed, his waistcoat discarded, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Kate stood before him with her arms crossed, her expression set with determined patience. A soft knock at the door announced the arrival of a maid with a tray of tea, broth, and fresh linens.

“Thank you,” Kate said warmly as the maid placed the tray on the side table and quietly retreated. She turned back to Anthony. “Right, in bed with you.”

Anthony scowled. “Kate, I am not an invalid.”

“You’re not yet, but if you continue to behave like a mule-headed fool, you’ll become one,” Kate retorted sharply, pointing at the bed.

Anthony groaned but stood and allowed Kate to guide him under the covers. He settled back against the pillows, a faint flush still staining his cheeks. Kate tucked the blankets firmly around him before pulling a chair closer to the bedside.

“See? Was that so difficult?” she said, pouring tea into a porcelain cup.

Anthony crossed his arms over his chest, looking both petulant and exhausted. “This is ridiculous.”

Kate handed him the tea. “Drink.”

Anthony glared at her but took the cup, muttering something under his breath.

Kate settled into her chair, watching him sip the tea. The faint wheeze in his breathing and the slight tremor in his hands didn’t escape her notice. Her smile faded as a knot of worry tightened in her chest.

“Anthony…” she began softly.

He looked up, his brows furrowing at the uncharacteristic fear in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

Kate hesitated, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “You’re never ill. Not like this.”

Anthony set the tea aside and reached out, catching her hand in his. “Kate, love, I promise you, it’s just a bit of fever. A few days of rest, and I’ll be back to myself.”

“But what if it’s something more?” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. “What if—”

Anthony sat up slightly, his free hand cupping her cheek. “Kate, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll rest. I’ll drink the wretched tea. I’ll even let Mother fuss over me if it puts your mind at ease. But I need you to promise me something.”

Kate blinked back tears. “What?”

“That you won’t let worry eat away at you,” he said softly. “Not now. Not when… not when there might be more than just the two of us to think about soon.”

Kate leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. They stayed like that for a long moment, the quiet crackle of the fire and the faint patter of rain against the windows the only sounds in the room.

Chapter Text

The fever had risen quickly. By afternoon, Anthony was bedridden, his skin flushed and damp with sweat, his breathing shallow and labored. His once sharp eyes were glazed over, and every so often, a shiver wracked his body despite the heavy quilts piled atop him.

Kate sat beside him, her brow furrowed as she wrung out a cool cloth and pressed it gently to his forehead. His curls, damp and sticking to his temples, made him look far younger than he was—so much more vulnerable than the proud, stubborn man she loved.

“Anthony,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she smoothed the cloth over his forehead. “You need to drink more water, love.”

His lips parted, and he made a faint sound of protest, but he didn’t resist as Kate lifted the glass to his lips. He managed a few small sips before turning his head away, a weak groan escaping him.

A soft knock at the door drew Kate’s attention. She turned to see the doctor entering with Violet close behind him. The older woman’s face was carefully composed, but her eyes betrayed her worry.

The doctor set down his leather bag on the side table and nodded at Kate. “Viscountess.”

“Doctor,” Kate said softly, rising from her chair but unwilling to leave Anthony’s side. “His fever—it’s worse. He’s barely drinking anything. And his breathing…”

The doctor offered her a reassuring smile. “Take a breath, Lady Bridgerton. Let me examine him.”

Kate stepped aside but hovered close as the doctor leaned over Anthony. She twisted her hands together, barely noticing the way Violet’s gaze flickered toward her, assessing not just Anthony’s condition, but hers as well.

The doctor checked Anthony’s pulse, listened to his chest, and carefully examined his throat and eyes. The silence in the room was broken only by the crackle of the fire and Anthony’s faint, uneven breaths.

Finally, the doctor straightened and removed his spectacles, tucking them into his waistcoat pocket. He turned to face Kate and Violet, his expression grave but not dire.

“It is influenza, my lady,” he said gently. “The symptoms are unmistakable—the fever, the cough, the shallow breathing.”

Kate’s hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Will he… will he recover?”

“Yes,” the doctor said firmly. “Your husband is young, strong, and otherwise in good health. These factors are on his side. But it will take time and careful care. The fever will run its course, and he must be kept hydrated. Small sips of water, broths if he can manage them. Keep his fever down with cool cloths, and ensure he rests. He’ll need plenty of it.”

Kate let out a shaky breath, nodding. “And the tincture you left earlier… will it help?”

“It will ease his cough and help him rest, but influenza has no cure, my lady. Only time, care, and patience.” He paused, his gaze softening. “You’re already doing everything right, Lady Bridgerton. Keep him comfortable, and he will pull through.”

Violet, who had remained quiet, stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor. I will see you out.”

As Violet guided the doctor from the room, Kate sank back into the chair beside Anthony’s bed. Her hands shook slightly as she dipped the cloth back into the basin of cool water.

Anthony stirred then, his brow furrowing, lips parting as he murmured something incoherent.

“I’m here,” Kate said softly, brushing his damp curls away from his forehead. “I’m right here, Anthony.”

His hand twitched on the bedcovers, and she reached out, wrapping her fingers around his. His grip was weak, barely there, but he held on.

The door creaked open again, and Violet stepped in quietly. Her gaze swept over Anthony, then over Kate. This time, she did not hide her concern—not just for her son, but for the woman beside him.

She crossed the room and placed a steadying hand on Kate’s shoulder, firmer this time.

“You heard the doctor, my dear,” Violet said gently. “He’ll be alright. Now, you must rest, or you’ll fall ill yourself.”

“I can’t,” Kate said weakly, her voice hoarse. “I can’t leave him yet.”

“Then rest here,” Violet urged. “Close your eyes, if only for a little while.” She reached for a spare blanket, draping it over Kate’s lap with quiet finality. “You must keep your strength up,” she murmured. “For both of you.”

Kate allowed herself to be tucked into the chair beside the bed, her heavy eyes watching each shallow breath Anthony inhaled and exhaled.

The hours stretched endlessly. Kate stayed by Anthony’s side, replacing cool cloths, coaxing small sips of water past his cracked lips, and whispering soft reassurances whenever he stirred. His fever burned on, relentless and unyielding, and every shallow breath he took felt like a small victory.

Violet visited periodically, bringing fresh linens, broth, and brief words of comfort. She urged Kate to rest, but Kate refused, her determination unshakable.

At one point in the dead of night, Anthony’s breathing grew ragged, and he shuddered beneath the blankets.

"Anthony," Kate whispered softly, brushing damp curls away from his forehead. His skin burned under her touch, and his brow creased faintly as if he were caught in some restless dream. "Can you hear me, my love?"

He muttered something incoherent. Kate reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and carefully lifted it to his lips, supporting his head with her other hand. He took a few sips before turning his head away, his face twisting in discomfort.

"Shh, it's alright," she murmured, setting the glass aside. Her voice wavered slightly despite her best effort to sound calm. "You're going to be alright, Anthony. I promise."

Kate pressed her forehead against Anthony's shoulder, her breath catching in her throat. Seeing him like this—so still, so unlike himself—unlocked a fear she hadn’t fully realized she carried.

"You have to be alright," Kate murmured, pressing her forehead against his damp hand. “You’re strong, Anthony. You’ll pull through this. You must.”

A faint groan escaped Anthony’s throat, and his hand twitched slightly against the sheets. Kate’s head snapped up, her heart leaping in her chest.

“Anthony?” she said softly, cupping his cheek. “Can you hear me?”

His eyelids fluttered weakly, and after a moment, his brown eyes cracked open, glassy and unfocused. He blinked several times before his gaze landed on her face.

“Kate…” His voice was so faint, so raspy, she barely heard him.

“I’m here,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the sharp pang of fear in her chest. “I’m right here.”

Anthony swallowed thickly, his throat working as if it pained him. “You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t be here,” he managed, his voice cracking with weakness. “You’ll get sick.”

Kate let out a shaky breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she brushed damp curls away from his forehead. “Stop worrying about me, Anthony. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes locked on her briefly. “Kate… the baby…”

The word hung in the air between them, fragile and trembling, as though it might break if spoken too loudly. Kate’s throat tightened, but she forced herself to smile.

“I’m fine, Anthony. We’re fine. But you have to rest. You have to let me take care of you now.”

Anthony’s eyes slipped shut again, his brow furrowing faintly as he drifted into restless sleep. Kate exhaled shakily, pressing a trembling hand to her abdomen as if to reassure herself—and the fragile life she hoped was growing there—that everything would be alright.

The hours slowly ticked by as the fever raged on. Kate refused to leave Anthony’s side, her chair pulled close to the bed as she alternated between pressing cool cloths to his forehead, coaxing sips of water past his lips, and smoothing the furrow between his brows whenever he whimpered in his sleep.

At one point in the night, he began muttering—disjointed fragments of thoughts and fears spilling from his fevered mind. He called her name over and over, his voice trembling with desperation, as if he thought she might slip away if he let go.

“Shh, Anthony,” Kate whispered, her forehead pressed against the back of his hand. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Text

By the time the first light of dawn spilled across the floor, the fever had finally broken.

Anthony’s breathing was deep and even, his brow smooth, and his hand rested lightly over Kate’s where it lay curled against his chest. Kate’s head rested on the edge of the mattress, her hair spilling across her arm as she dozed lightly.

A faint sound stirred her awake—a soft groan as Anthony shifted slightly on the bed. His eyes blinked open, clearer now, though still heavy with exhaustion.

“Kate?”

His voice broke through the silence, rough but steady. Kate’s head snapped up, and she practically leaped from the chair to kneel beside him on the bed. “Anthony! Oh, thank goodness.”

He blinked at her, his brow furrowing faintly. “You look awful.”

Kate let out a laugh that was half-sob, her shoulders trembling as she pressed his hand to her cheek. “You’re one to talk, my love.”

Anthony’s fingers brushed weakly along her cheek, his voice low but steady. “You shouldn’t have stayed, Kate.”

“Of course I should have,” she said fiercely, leaning into his touch. “Where else would I be?”

Anthony’s eyes softened, and he tugged weakly at her hand until she climbed into the bed and carefully lay beside him, her head resting on his chest.

“You scared me,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

Anthony’s arm curled around her shoulders, his hold loose but protective. “I’m sorry, Kate.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said softly, her fingers curling into the fabric of his nightshirt. “Just… don’t ever do that again. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

They lay together in the quiet, the only sound the faint chirping of birds outside and the distant hum of servants beginning their morning routines in the hallways below.

After a long while, Anthony spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Kate?”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m hungry.”

Kate let out a shaky laugh, her head lifting slightly to meet his gaze. “Well, that’s a good sign if ever there was one.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before slipping out of bed, pausing briefly at the doorway to smile at him over her shoulder. “I’ll bring you something from the kitchens. And no more worrying me like this, Anthony Bridgerton, or I swear I’ll… I’ll never let you live it down.”

Anthony’s faint chuckle followed her as she disappeared down the hall, the tension in her shoulders finally easing.

Chapter Text

The soft light of mid-afternoon spilled through the windows of Anthony and Kate’s bedchamber, bathing the space in a gentle golden hue. Outside, the faint chirping of birds and the distant sound of carriage wheels rolling over cobblestones filtered through the open window. The air smelled faintly of rain-soaked earth and fresh linen.

Anthony sat propped against a mountain of pillows in bed, still pale but with more color in his cheeks than he’d had in days. His hair was slightly tousled, and his nightshirt hung loose at his collar. A book rested on his lap, forgotten, as he watched Kate move around the room with brisk efficiency.

“Kate,” he said, his voice firm despite the lingering rasp.

Kate paused halfway through folding a cloth, her hands freezing mid-motion. She turned to face him with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes, my love?”

Anthony’s sharp gaze swept over her—her slightly pale complexion, the faint shadows under her eyes, the way she pressed a hand to her lower back when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“Come here,” he said softly, patting the space beside him on the bed.

Kate hesitated, glancing at the pile of linens still waiting to be folded. “Anthony, you need to rest. I just want to make sure everything is—”

“Kate.” His voice was gentle but commanding, leaving no room for argument.

With a sigh, she set the cloth down and made her way to the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress. Anthony reached out and took her hand, pulling her closer until she was seated properly beside him.

“How have you been feeling?” he asked, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Kate smiled faintly. “I’m fine.”

Anthony’s brow lifted, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Kate. I may have been bedridden for the better part of a week, but I’m not blind. You’ve been pale, you’ve been tired, and I know you’ve been sick in the mornings. Don’t tell me you’re fine.”

Kate let out a soft sigh, her shoulders sagging slightly as the facade of strength slipped away. “It’s nothing I can’t manage, Anthony. Truly. The doctor said it’s all normal for…” She trailed off, her hand pressing lightly against her abdomen.

Anthony’s expression softened as he followed the motion. “For the baby.”

She nodded, her lips twitching into a fragile smile. “Yes. For the baby.”

For a moment, Anthony simply looked at her, his thumb still tracing soothing circles over her knuckles. Then he spoke, his voice soft and steady. “Kate, you’ve spent the past week running yourself ragged looking after me. You’ve barely slept, and I know you’ve been skipping meals because you’re worried about keeping them down. You cannot keep this up.”

“I—”

“No,” he said gently but firmly, raising a hand to cup her cheek. “You’ve taken care of me, my love. Now let me take care of you.”

Kate’s eyes glistened faintly, and she leaned into his touch, her exhaustion suddenly crashing over her like a wave. She let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly.

“Lie down with me,” Anthony said softly, tugging gently on her hand. “Just for a little while. Please.”

Kate hesitated only a moment before allowing Anthony to guide her down beside him. She kicked off her slippers and climbed under the blankets, her body curling naturally against his side as his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders.

“There,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Isn’t that better?”

Kate let out a long sigh, her body melting into his warmth. “It is,” she admitted softly.

For a while, they simply lay there in the quiet. Anthony’s hand traced slow, soothing circles along her back, and Kate felt herself begin to drift, her body finally surrendering to the rest it so desperately needed.

“You’re not allowed to worry about me anymore,” Anthony said suddenly, his voice low and steady. “Not while you’re carrying our child.”

Kate smiled faintly against his chest. “You do enough worrying for the both of us.”

Anthony chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her cheek. “Someone has to. You’re entirely too stubborn to take care of yourself properly.”

“I could say the same about you,” she murmured sleepily.

Anthony’s smile faded slightly, and his brow furrowed as he pressed another kiss to her hair. “I mean it, Kate. I need you to rest. I need you to let me share this with you—to share the weight of it.”

Kate’s eyes fluttered open briefly, and she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His brown eyes were warm and unguarded, filled with an aching tenderness that made her breath catch in her throat.

“You already do, Anthony,” she whispered. “And you need to rest too. I need you.” She paused, her hand drifting back to her stomach again. “We both need you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and Kate let her eyes drift closed again.

The room was utterly still, the golden light dimming as the afternoon stretched into early evening. Outside, the faint sounds of London life carried on—the clatter of hooves against cobblestones, distant laughter, the toll of a church bell. But inside their quiet haven, time seemed to slow.

Anthony held Kate close, his hand never stilling as it traced gentle patterns along her spine. Eventually, her breathing evened out, and he realized she had fallen asleep against him.

His own eyes began to grow heavy, his body still weakened from his illness. But he couldn’t stop himself from whispering softly into her hair:

“I love you, Kate. You, and our little one. I’ll keep you both safe. I swear it.”

Kate shifted slightly in her sleep, as though she had heard him, and let out a faint sigh.

Chapter Text

The afternoon light streamed through the windows of Kate’s sitting room, casting long, golden rays over the delicate paper in her hands. Edwina’s handwriting danced across the page in elegant strokes, warm and affectionate as always.

Kate traced a finger over the lines, a small smile playing at her lips as she imagined her sister seated by the azure waters of Lake Como, basking in the beauty of Italy with Friedrich at her side.

Dearest Didi,

Lake Como is everything you would imagine—perhaps even more. The waters are so blue, they rival the skies, and the hills that surround us seem to roll on forever. Friedrich and I spent yesterday wandering the gardens of Villa Melzi, and I thought of you the entire time. You would have adored the jasmine and camellias lining the pathways. And the scent of wisteria in the air? I nearly sent you a clipping just to share a piece of it with you.

We are well and happy, and I hope you are the same. How have you been? How is Anthony? I can only imagine how busy you must be now that the season is in full swing—though I suspect you are handling it all with your usual grace.

Write to me soon, won’t you? I miss you terribly.

All my love,

Edwina

Kate exhaled softly, her fingers tightening around the letter.

She thought back to one of her last conversations with Edwina in Prussia, curled up together in her sister’s parlor, their voices hushed against the crackling fire. What if it’s too late? she had whispered then, her fears spilling into the quiet, heavier than she had meant them to be.

And yet—good Lord—she had already been pregnant when she said it.

The thought made her laugh, a soft, startled sound that filled the stillness of the room. All that time, all that worry, and the answer had already been nestled inside her. She could almost hear Edwina’s exasperated sigh, the way she would shake her head and call Kate ridiculous before wrapping her in a warm embrace.

She should tell her. She wanted to tell her.

But as Kate dipped her quill into the ink, the words refused to come. How could she put something so precious onto paper? How could she send it off into the world, vulnerable to ink smudges and prying eyes?

It felt too soon. Too fragile. Too real.

She hesitated, biting her lip, exhaling slowly through her nose as if she could steady herself with the breath alone.

"Now, that," came a familiar voice from the doorway, "is the face of someone thinking entirely too hard."

Kate startled slightly, looking up to find Anthony leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He looked better, stronger than he had in days. The last remnants of illness had begun to fade from his features, though there was still a slight weariness in the way he carried himself. She had insisted he rest, but true to form, he had emerged from bed the moment his strength returned, already restless.

Kate let out a soft huff, setting the letter aside. "I was simply writing to Edwina."

Anthony pushed off the doorframe and strode toward her, glancing down at the open page. "She’s in Italy now, isn’t she?"

"Lake Como," Kate confirmed. "And thoroughly enchanted with it."

"Mm," Anthony mused, settling onto the edge of the couch beside her. "Can’t say I blame her. I’d rather like to take you there one day. You, me, a quiet villa by the lake… no meddling siblings."

Kate laughed softly, shaking her head. "You say that as if we wouldn’t miss them."

"Ah, well, you might," he teased, "but I rather like the idea of keeping you to myself."

She smirked, but the warmth in her chest dimmed slightly as she turned back to the letter. Anthony, ever perceptive, caught the shift in her expression at once.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone gentler now.

Kate hesitated. "I want to tell her," she admitted quietly. "I want to tell her about…" She gestured vaguely towards her belly.

Anthony’s brows lifted slightly. "Then tell her."

Her fingers curled in her lap. "I… I can’t."

“Oh.” He blinked, the faintest crease forming between his brows. A beat of silence passed before he reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers—firmer this time, like an anchor. “Kate,” he said carefully, his voice quieter now, almost wary. “You are happy about this, aren’t you?”

"Of course," she said immediately, eyes widening. "I’ve never been happier, Anthony."

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but he still held her gaze, searching. "Then what is it?"

Kate swallowed, struggling to put it into words. "It feels… like tempting fate."

At that, he frowned, studying her carefully. "Why?"

Kate exhaled slowly, her thumb grazing his knuckles. "I think… it’s because I wanted this so much. I feared it might never happen, and now that it has, it feels too good to be true. As if saying it aloud—writing it down—might shatter it before I can truly hold it."

Anthony’s fingers tightened around hers. "Kate," he murmured, his voice full of quiet conviction. "You don’t have to be afraid. This—our baby—is real. It’s happening. And it won’t disappear simply because you let yourself feel the joy of it."

She swallowed, her throat tight.

Anthony reached up, brushing a gentle hand against her cheek. "You once told me that I worry," he said lightly. "But Kate, my love… you are the one who carries the world on your shoulders."

A soft, tearful laugh escaped her, and he smiled, kissing her temple.

"You don’t have to do that anymore," he whispered against her skin. "Not with me."

Kate closed her eyes, leaning into him, and for the first time since realizing she might be pregnant, she let herself fully exhale.

Anthony pressed another kiss to her forehead before leaning back, his thumb still tracing slow, steady circles over the back of her hand. “Write it,” he murmured. “Tell her how happy you are. She’d want to know.”

Kate hesitated, her fingers hovering over the page. “But I don’t know how to say it,” she admitted softly. “I don’t know how to put it into words without…” She trailed off, unable to name the fear that sat so heavily in her chest.

Anthony squeezed her hand gently. “Then don’t force the words,” he said. “Just write to your sister. The rest will come.”

She took a deep breath, nodding, and finally dipped her quill into the ink.

Dearest Edwina,

Lake Como sounds like a dream. I can almost picture you there, strolling through the gardens, marveling at every bloom. One day, you must take me with you—I should love to see it through your eyes.

She paused, glancing up at Anthony. His warm gaze steadied her, and she exhaled, turning back to the page.

You asked how I am, and I find myself at a loss for how to answer. I think, perhaps, my heart has never been so full. It is a strange and wonderful thing to have once feared something was beyond your reach, only to find it was yours all along.

Kate bit her lip, staring at the ink drying across the page. The words felt safe enough—not too much, but just enough. Edwina would understand.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun filtered through the bedroom windows, casting a golden glow over the polished wood floor and the faint floral pattern of the wallpaper. Anthony stood near the bed, arms crossed over his chest, a familiar frown etched between his brows as he watched Kate put on an earring in front of the mirror.

“Kate, really, you should rest tonight,” he said for what felt like the fifth time. “I’m sure Lady Danbury would be delighted to host without us, and frankly, I’d be delighted to let her.”

Kate paused, her lips twitching as she caught his reflection in the mirror. He looked stronger now—his color had returned, and the gauntness in his cheeks from his illness had begun to fade. But there was still an edge of exhaustion in the way he held himself, a lingering stiffness in his shoulders that told her he wasn’t quite back to his full strength yet.

“Anthony,” she said softly, turning to face him. “We’ve already hidden from society for two weeks. If we miss our own ball, people will start to think we’ve been exiled to the countryside or abducted by pirates.”

Anthony’s mouth twitched, but the frown remained. “If pirates meant you would stay tucked safely in bed, I’d gladly send a signal flare.”

Kate laughed and crossed the room to stand in front of him, her gown swishing around her ankles as she moved. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Not dramatic enough,” he countered, his hands coming to rest lightly on her waist. “We don’t have to go, Kate. You’ve been exhausted, I’ve been ill, and the idea of parading ourselves in front of half the ton makes me want to take up permanent residence in the library.”

She smiled up at him, reaching to smooth the collar of his waistcoat. “You do spend most of your time in the library anyway, my love.”

Anthony huffed out a laugh, his forehead coming to rest briefly against hers. “You know what I mean.”

Kate leaned back, her smile softening as her hand rose to cup his cheek. “We’ve been hiding for weeks, Anthony. You’re better now, and I feel well enough. I’d rather not spend another evening fretting myself into a spiral of nerves while you hover over me like a mother hen.”

His brow lifted slightly. “I do not hover.”

“You do,” Kate said with mock seriousness. “You hover beautifully. A true masterpiece of hovering.”

Anthony chuckled softly, though he still looked reluctant. “But if you get tired—”

“I’ll sit,” Kate promised, holding up a finger. “And if I feel unwell, we’ll leave.”

She smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, but before she could pull away, Anthony caught her wrist, holding her there for just a moment longer. His gaze searched hers, as though debating whether to say something.

Then, quietly, he murmured, “I miss you.”

Kate’s breath hitched.

He said it so simply, so softly, and yet she knew exactly what he meant. Not just in conversation or in their day-to-day routines—he missed holding her, kissing her, loving her. And the worst part was, she missed him too. But by the time they finally climbed into bed each night, they were both so utterly drained that all they could do was drowsily kiss one another before surrendering to sleep.

Her fingers curled around his, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I know,” she said softly. “I miss you too.”

Anthony exhaled slowly, nodding as though that answer was enough for now.

And Kate, pressing one more lingering kiss to his cheek, promised herself that she wouldn’t let exhaustion keep them apart much longer.

“Now, shall we go?” she murmured, forcing a lightness into her tone. “I’d hate to be late for Lady Danbury.”

Anthony sighed but offered his arm. “If we must.”

Kate grinned, but even as she took his hand, she couldn’t quite shake the thought that she was running on borrowed energy—and she didn’t know how long she could keep up the pace.

The conservatory sparkled in the early evening light, the last rays of sun casting a warm, golden glow over the lush greenery and delicate floral arrangements. A light breeze wafted through the open glass panes, carrying the fragrance of jasmine and roses. Kate and Anthony stood side by side, watching as servants bustled about, putting the final touches on their event.

Across the room, Mary watched Kate carefully.

She had noticed her daughter’s flush, the slight changes over the last few weeks. Kate was glowing—but not in the usual way. There was a softness to it, something almost telling.

She watched as Anthony leaned in, his usual protective aura stronger than ever. She watched as Kate laughed, shaking her head at him, the flirtatious annoyance she often saw her daughter display with her husband tinged with something sweeter. She watched the soft way their eyes met, and that was when Mary knew for certain.

She began to make her way towards them when Lady Danbury appeared at her side. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked her slyly.

Mary laughed, nodding. “Yes,” she said, her voice a pleased hum. “I think so.”

They made their way towards the couple, Lady Danbury’s cane tapping across the conservatory floor, pulling their attention away from each other.

“Well, well,” Lady Danbury announced, her tone ringing with satisfaction, “I must say, you both look rather remarkable tonight.” She paused, her gaze lingering on Kate. Then, with all the confidence of a woman who knew far too much, she added, “And you, my dear, have a rather enchanting glow about you tonight.”

Kate managed a polite smile. “That’s very kind of you to say, Lady Danbury. I suppose it’s the… excitement of the evening.”

Lady Danbury’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she exchanged an amused look with Mary. “Oh, no, my dear, this glow is more than mere excitement. You’re positively radiant.” She glanced at Anthony, giving him a knowing smirk. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Bridgerton?”

Anthony straightened, looking all too pleased. “She’s always radiant,” he said, his gaze softening as he looked at Kate.

But Lady Danbury let out a quiet chuckle, tapping her cane with amusement. “I’ve seen enough young ladies with that delightful glow to know when there’s more to it than an evening’s thrill.” She leaned in, voice conspiratorial, her eyes dancing with mischief. “One might almost think…”

She trailed off, allowing the implication to hang in the air. Kate froze, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. Her mind raced for a reply, but words failed her. Instead, she simply nodded politely as Lady Danbury straightened with a satisfied chuckle.

“Well,” Lady Danbury continued, clearly savoring their flustered expressions, “we shall see soon enough if I’m right.” She tapped her cane once more before sweeping away, her laughter soft but unmistakable as she disappeared into the crowd. “Enjoy the evening, you two.”

Mary smiled at them, reaching out to squeeze Kate’s arm. “You do look absolutely beautiful tonight, my dear.” She let her hand rest for a second longer, her thumb brushing over Kate’s sleeve in a small, comforting gesture. She let herself gaze fondly at each of them before nodding and following Lady Danbury away.

Anthony turned back to Kate, his expression a mix of amusement and surprise. “Kate, I think they know.”

Kate laughed, still feeling the warmth in her cheeks. “They definitely do.”

As the night deepened and the ballroom bustled with guests, Anthony found himself cornered by Lady Danbury and his mother, who stood by him with an almost suspiciously bright smile. Lady Danbury’s gaze was as sharp as ever, fixed on him as though he were a rather amusing specimen.

“Well, Lord Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury began, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, “Your mother and I were just speaking about how particularly beautiful your wife looks tonight. Though I’d say you’re practically glowing yourself.”

Anthony’s cheeks colored slightly, and he shifted, feeling his excitement bubble dangerously close to the surface. “Glowing?” he repeated, trying to keep his voice even. “Surely not. It’s Kate who… I mean—” He stopped himself, clearing his throat as he tried to keep his composure. “Kate always looks beautiful.”

Lady Danbury let out a quiet chuckle, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I know when there’s more to it than a lovely young woman in a party dress. And young man, if you think I don’t notice the way you’re watching her tonight, you must think I’m older than I look.”

Anthony felt his face grow warm, and he fought the urge to glance over his shoulder at Kate, who was engaged in conversation across the room. It took every ounce of self-control not to announce his hopes. He took a deep breath, feeling his mother’s hand gently come to rest on his arm.

“Now, Lady Danbury,” Violet interjected smoothly, “I’m sure Anthony would be glad to share whatever news he may have in due time. In the meantime, perhaps we’ll all do our best to enjoy the evening?”

Lady Danbury huffed good-naturedly, tapping her cane against the floor. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave the poor man to his mother, then.” With a sly wink in Anthony’s direction, she turned and disappeared back into the lively crowd, her laughter trailing behind her.

As the noise of the ball filled the space around them once again, Violet turned to her son, her expression softening with a look that told him she knew far more than he’d admitted. “Anthony,” she murmured, keeping her voice gentle, “I don’t wish to pry, but I think I understand what may be happening.”

Anthony swallowed, glancing down at his mother with an almost bashful smile. “You think you know, do you?”

She reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek with a mother’s tenderness. “I know that look—you wear it like armor, trying so hard to keep your excitement contained.”

He gave her an embarrassed smile, feeling as though he’d been caught in the act. “It’s harder than I’d thought, keeping this all in. I want nothing more than to share this with you, with everyone… but Kate is being so careful. She doesn't want to make a fuss until we know for sure.”

Violet’s smile was both warm and reassuring. “I understand. And I am very proud of you for respecting her wishes.”

Anthony took a breath. “It’s strange,” he admitted softly. “The possibility of it all… it’s overwhelming. I never thought I’d feel this way.”

Violet’s hand found his, squeezing it gently. “When you married Kate, you began a journey neither of you had walked before. And no matter what happens, I want you to know that I am here for both of you. Whatever you need.”

Anthony felt his heart swell with gratitude, the comfort of his mother’s words settling like a balm over his unspoken worries. “Thank you, Mother,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Truly.”

Violet’s eyes glistened as she smiled up at him, her love for him evident in every line of her expression. “I cannot wait to see the family you and Kate create. And in the meantime,” she added, “I shall hold my suspicions close, just as you are.”

They shared a smile, a silent bond of hope and patience, before Violet patted his arm. “Now, go on. Your wife is waiting for you.”

Anthony’s gaze softened as he turned, his eyes finding Kate across the room, her laughter drifting over the hum of conversation. Yes, she was waiting—and he couldn’t wait to join her.

Chapter Text

The bustling streets were alive with chatter and the clatter of carriage wheels. Shopkeepers called out their wares, and the air buzzed with the faint scent of fresh bread from a nearby bakery. Kate walked with Eloise and Francesca, the younger Bridgerton sisters deep in conversation about hats—or, rather, Eloise’s disdain for them.

“I refuse to spend another minute debating the circumference of hat brims,” Eloise declared, her brow furrowed as she gestured dramatically. “Why must society insist on adorning one’s head with feathers large enough to frighten passing birds?”

Francesca let out a soft laugh, her cheeks flushed from the cool spring air. “Perhaps because it distracts from their conversation skills, Eloise. Though, I’ll admit, the hat Lady Featherington wore last week was alarming.”

Kate smiled faintly at their banter but felt herself lagging slightly behind. Her feet ached, and the nausea that had been lurking at the edges of her stomach since morning was becoming harder to ignore. She tried to focus on the rhythm of their chatter, but the noise of the crowded street and the bright sunlight pressing against her eyes made everything feel sharp and unsteady.

“Kate?” Francesca’s soft voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Are you quite alright?”

Kate forced a smile, squeezing Francesca’s hand lightly where it rested in the crook of her arm. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. Perhaps… perhaps we could stop for tea somewhere? I believe I saw a tea room just back there.”

Eloise turned immediately, her sharp gaze flicking over Kate’s pale face. “You should have said something earlier. Honestly, Kate, we’re not on a forced march.”

“I’m perfectly fine, truly,” Kate assured them, though her voice wavered slightly. “I just need to sit for a moment.”

Without another word, Francesca took her other arm, and the three of them made their way into a nearby tea room. Francesca quickly secured a table near the window, and Eloise helped Kate into a chair with uncharacteristic gentleness.

The three women settled around the small table as a waiter appeared, taking their order with quick efficiency. Moments later, a steaming pot of tea arrived, accompanied by delicate sandwiches and small pastries. Kate wrapped her fingers around the warm teacup, letting the heat seep into her fingertips.

“You’ve been quiet, Francesca,” Kate said softly after a moment, glancing across the table. “Is something on your mind?”

Francesca blushed faintly and toyed with the handle of her cup. “I’ve been thinking about next spring. My debut. It feels so… close now. And so daunting.”

Eloise let out an exaggerated groan. “Franny, we can still escape. Run away, start a flower shop in the country. Or better yet, an apiary. Bees are far less insufferable than gentlemen.”

“Eloise,” Kate chided lightly, though she couldn’t suppress her smile.

Francesca shook her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I want to debut, Eloise. I know not every marriage is a love match, but if I’m lucky… Well, I’d like to find what you and Anthony have, Kate. A marriage full of love and partnership. And children, too. As soon as possible, if I’m fortunate enough.”

Kate’s breath caught in her throat as emotion surged suddenly, unexpectedly. Her hand trembled slightly as she set her teacup down.

“Oh,” she whispered, her voice tight. “That’s… that’s very lovely, Francesca.”

Across the table, Eloise rolled her eyes, but there was something in the set of her jaw—something too firm, too defensive. Her smile faltered, and when she spoke again, her voice carried a faint edge.

“Well, don’t let me stop you from finding some dull gentleman to share your tea and gossip with for eternity.”

Francesca gave Eloise a quizzical glance but said nothing, her focus instead returning to Kate, whose eyes had welled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Kate said, her voice uneven as she dabbed quickly at her cheeks with a napkin. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’m… I’m being terribly silly.”

Francesca reached across the table, her hand covering Kate’s. “You’re not silly, Kate. But… are you sure you’re alright?”

Kate forced a smile, though it wobbled at the edges. “I promise, it’s nothing. Truly. Now, please, let’s not make a fuss. Drink your tea.”

Eloise narrowed her eyes but let it drop—for now. Francesca hesitated a moment longer before nodding and squeezing Kate’s hand.

When the carriage rolled up to the grand steps of Bridgerton House, Kate let out a slow breath, feeling an ache in her back and the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on her shoulders. Francesca exited first, followed by Eloise, and as Kate stepped down, she was immediately met with the imposing—and slightly irritated—figure of her husband.

Anthony stood at the top of the steps, arms folded across his broad chest, his brow furrowed in concern.

“You’re back later than I expected,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Kate sighed, her fingers clutching the folds of her gown. “Anthony—”

“Did you sit when you started to feel unwell? Did you rest? Did you—”

“Anthony,” Kate interrupted softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

His sharp gaze flicked over her face, lingering on the faint pallor of her cheeks and the tired set of her shoulders. Without another word, he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, guiding her gently but firmly into the house.

Eloise and Francesca exchanged a long, meaningful glance behind them before following.

Once they were alone, Anthony turned to face her, his hands coming to rest lightly on her waist. “You shouldn’t have gone out today, Kate. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Kate let out a soft sigh, resting her forehead against his chest. “I needed to get out of the house, Anthony. I can’t just… sit here, waiting.”

His arms came up around her, holding her close. “I know. But I can’t stand seeing you like this—so pale, so tired. It terrifies me.”

Kate pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’m alright, Anthony. Truly. I promise to rest this afternoon. Will that satisfy your overprotective heart?”

Anthony exhaled heavily, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. “For now.”

Chapter Text

Mary sat across from Kate and Anthony, sipping from her teacup, her gaze resting fondly on her daughter and son-in-law.

“I’m so happy for you both,” she murmured, setting her teacup back onto its saucer with a gentle clink. “Seeing you and Edwina both so settled makes me miss your father. It’s been years since he left us, and yet some days, it feels as if he were only just here.”

Kate’s expression softened, and she reached across the low table of the Bridgerton drawing room to hold her mother’s hand. “I know, Amma. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him, especially now.” She glanced at Anthony, who gave her a reassuring smile and placed his warm hand on her knee.

Mary smiled at their quiet exchange, her fingers tightening around Kate’s. Then, with an almost too-casual air, she sighed. “Which is why I’ve been thinking… I might return to India for a time. Just a few months.”

“Back to India?” Anthony felt Kate stiffen against him. She swallowed hard before attempting a light tone. “If you’re lonely, Amma, you could always stay here with us instead of with Lady Danbury.”

Mary chuckled. “No, Kate, it’s not that. And, no offense, Anthony, but I do not think I could survive the chaos of the Bridgerton home.”

Anthony let out a small laugh, but his gaze flicked to Kate, his amusement dimming.

Mary continued, her voice careful. “I just think I would feel closer to Milan if I were back in the place where we shared our lives together.”

Kate hesitated. “But what about…what about when Edwina returns in the fall? Surely she’ll need you back in Prussia with her. And what about that gentleman you met? You seemed quite taken with him. Isn’t he coming to visit you?”

Mary chuckled, her cheeks flushing just slightly. “He was charming, yes, and I’m sure he would understand.” She lifted her teacup again, taking a slow sip before adding, “Besides, my heart will always belong to Milan.” Her voice softened, her gaze steady on Kate. “And it’s not goodbye, my darling. I’ll return, of course.”

Kate’s fingers curled into the fabric of her gown. “But the trip takes so long on its own. It would be, what, at least a year? That’s such a long time, Amma.”

Mary sat back, tilting her head. “My dear, I didn’t think you’d react like this.” She paused, watching Kate carefully, taking in Anthony’s knowing look and Kate’s flushed cheeks. Then, after a beat, her lips twitched. “Oh.”

She set her teacup down with the utmost care. “Oh, Kate.”

Kate avoided her mother’s gaze, shaking her head softly. “No.”

Mary leaned forward, her brows lifting in mild amusement. “No?”

Kate’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

Anthony sighed and set down his own teacup, exhaling as he turned to Mary. “She won’t say it, but she doesn’t want you to go.”

Mary’s expression softened with a fond sort of victory. “And why is that?”

Kate shot him a warning look, but Anthony only smiled, taking her hand. “We are expecting.” His voice was quiet, but sure. “And I think it would mean the world to Kate if you reconsidered your travel plans.”

A warm silence settled over the room. Kate turned to Anthony, her cheeks flaming with indignation—and perhaps a hint of relief.

Mary’s eyes glistened as she pressed a hand to her mouth, her amusement melting into something tender. “Kate,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Is it true?”

Kate glanced back at Anthony, a blend of exasperation and gratitude passing over her face, before turning to her mother. “It’s not certain yet, but…” She softened, her voice low. “We have reason to hope.”

Mary beamed, moving to gather Kate into a tight embrace. “Oh, my darling.” Her hand trembled as she smoothed Kate’s hair, her breath catching. “Of course, I’ll stay. Did you truly think I would leave you now?” She let out a watery laugh, pressing her palm to her chest. “My first grandchild.”

Kate melted into her mother’s hold, and over her shoulder, she caught Anthony’s gaze. He was watching her with quiet amusement, his expression a mix of exasperation and love.

Eloise and Francesca stood in the hallway outside the drawing room, their backs pressed against the intricately wallpapered wall. The faint sound of Mary’s joyful exclamation drifted
through the closed doors, followed by Kate’s softer, emotional reply.

Eloise’s brows shot up, and she turned to Francesca, her voice low but sharp. “Did she just say what I think she said?”

Francesca’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with excitement. “She’s expecting!” she whispered, her voice trembling with barely-contained glee.

Eloise’s lips pressed into a thin line, her brow furrowing as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “A baby. A Bridgerton baby. Just what the world needs.”

Francesca lightly smacked Eloise’s arm. “Oh, stop it. This is wonderful news. Kate and Anthony are going to have a child! Can’t you just be happy for them for one moment?”

“I am happy for them,” Eloise said defensively, her voice sharper than intended. “But forgive me if I don’t immediately start embroidering tiny bonnets and cooing at invisible infants. The idea of a baby is… well, it’s exhausting even in theory.”

Francesca rolled her eyes, though her smile remained fixed. “You’ll change your tune the moment you meet them. You’ll probably end up being their favorite aunt.”

Eloise snorted, her sharp wit briefly flickering back to life. “Heaven help the child if that’s the case.”

But even as the quip left her lips, her smile faded slightly. Francesca pressed on, oblivious. “Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Eloise said lightly, masking her unease. “Either it’ll be a tiny viscount yelling about duty before he can walk, or a fierce little girl who bosses Anthony around the way Kate does.”

Francesca giggled, her laughter muffled behind her hand. But Eloise’s gaze lingered on the closed drawing room door, her smile faltering as her chest tightened with something she couldn’t quite untangle.

Chapter Text

The drawing room at Bridgerton House was alive with chatter and laughter, golden sunlight spilling through the tall windows to dance across polished floors and velvet upholstery. The room was crowded with women in various shades of Bridgerton blue and lavender, their voices blending into a bright hum of conversation.

At the center of it all stood Kate, wearing the second of three gowns—a breathtaking sapphire creation embroidered with silver blossoms that seemed to catch and hold the light. The sash draped across her chest was reminiscent of a saree pallu, flowing elegantly over her shoulder and adding an air of quiet majesty to her silhouette.

Madame Delacroix fussed with a seam along Kate’s waist, a pincushion strapped to her wrist, her sharp eyes narrowing in concentration as she muttered something about the alignment of the embroidery.

Hyacinth, perched on the edge of a chaise, clutched her knees in excitement, her blue eyes wide as saucers. “I’ve never seen a gown like this,” she said, her voice bright with admiration. “It’s so—so…”

“Regal,” Francesca finished softly, her usual reserved tone edged with quiet appreciation.

Kate smiled, smoothing her hand along the sash. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? It felt… important to me to bring something of home into these gowns.”

Mary, sitting beside Lady Danbury, smiled at her daughter with unmistakable pride. Lady Danbury gave a small, approving nod.

“They are magnificent, my dear,” she said firmly. “And I must commend Madame Delacroix for managing such a feat.”

Madame Delacroix straightened, lifting her chin proudly. “The pleasure was all mine. The fabrics are exceptional, and the design—a challenge, yes—but a worthwhile one. These gowns are some of my finest works, I should think.”

Eloise smirked from her spot by the window. “I only hope Anthony finds them worth it after carting half the world’s supply of silk across Europe.”

Laughter bubbled through the room, and Kate grinned as she turned slightly to face Eloise. “It was Anthony who insisted we buy them all. I would merely stop to admire them, and the next thing I knew, he was paying the merchant.”

More laughter rippled across the group, but it softened into something quieter as the man himself stepped into the room.

Anthony had paused in the doorway, one hand still resting on the handle, his eyes fixed on Kate with an expression that was, for a fleeting moment, entirely unguarded. His mouth had fallen slightly open, and he seemed utterly frozen.

The conversation in the room stilled.

Violet cleared her throat delicately. “Anthony, dear, do close your mouth. It’s terribly unbecoming for a viscount.”

The women erupted into laughter again. Anthony blinked rapidly, clearing his throat as he stepped further into the room, though his eyes never left Kate.

“I—well—it’s…” He gestured vaguely at her, then let his hand drop uselessly at his side.

Hyacinth giggled behind her hand. “He’s positively speechless!”

Anthony’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, but he straightened, his voice low and sincere when he spoke. “Forgive me, but I… I don’t know if words could ever do justice to how you look right now.”

The room quieted again, the laughter fading into something softer. Kate’s cheeks flushed, and her eyes met Anthony’s across the space between them.

“You are glowing, Kate,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Absolutely glowing.”

The intimacy of the moment hung in the air, a delicate thread of something unspeakably sweet passing between them.

Eloise coughed lightly. “Well. I suppose that answers whether he thinks the fabric was worth it.”

The laughter returned, but it was softer this time, gentler—more of a ripple than a wave.

Madame Delacroix clapped her hands together lightly. “I am all finished with this gown, Viscountess. If you’re ready, we can move on to the final fitting.”

Kate nodded, smiling softly at Anthony before retreating behind the dressing screen with Madame Delacroix trailing behind her.

Anthony stood frozen for a moment, staring at the spot where Kate had disappeared, before he glanced around the room and cleared his throat again.

“Should I—should I leave?” he asked hesitantly.

Mary, her voice kind but firm, said, “You might as well stay, Anthony. You’ll only end up hovering outside the door, and we all know it.”

More chuckles followed, and Anthony, looking thoroughly embarrassed but still wearing that faint, adoring smile, settled himself into an armchair near the corner of the room. He sat there, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth as he stared fixedly at the dressing screen.

Francesca leaned over to Hyacinth and whispered loudly enough for the room to hear, “Do you think he’ll faint when she comes out in the next gown?”

Behind the screen, Kate smiled at their teasing as Madame Delacroix began tying the ribbons at the back of the last gown. Her voice dropped into a low, discreet murmur.

"Your measurements have changed ever so slightly, Lady Bridgerton. Around the waist. Subtle, but… noticeable." The modiste’s sharp eyes flicked up to meet Kate's, one brow raised ever so slightly.

Kate froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her hand instinctively brushed over the fabric just below her ribs, where the fitted bodice hugged her waist. “Oh—I’m sure it’s… just from traveling,” she said softly, her voice light but a touch uneven. “Too much delicious food.”

Madame Delacroix’s lips curved into the faintest knowing smile as she stepped back, her sharp gaze softening. “Perhaps, Madame. But do let me know if adjustments need to be made for future gowns. I will ensure they are… accommodating.”

Kate smiled, glancing down again at her stomach. From the other side of the screen, she could hear the women of her family still teasing Anthony. Their laughter rang through the air, bright and warm, and Kate closed her eyes for a moment. In her mind’s eye, she could see it—a child surrounded by this love, this family, this joy. Her chest tightened, tears welling up as her heart surged with hope.

Chapter Text

The morning sun cast a gentle glow through the windows of Kate’s study, where she sat curled up in her favorite armchair, a hand pressed to her forehead as she tried to soothe the dull ache behind her eyes. Anthony was at her side, one arm resting along the back of her chair, watching her with a blend of concern and helplessness.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Tea? A warm compress?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Kate opened her eyes and managed a soft smile. “I’ll be alright. Just… feeling a bit out of sorts again.” She let out a slow breath, her fingers tracing idle patterns against the fabric of her robe. “I know we’re supposed to be hopeful,” she murmured, “but I can’t stop thinking about… if it doesn’t…”

Anthony’s hand tightened on hers, his expression mirroring her own uncertainty. Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door, and they looked up to see Violet stepping into the study with a tray and a knowing look on her face.

“Forgive me for intruding,” she said gently, her gaze moving between the two of them. “I hear you aren’t feeling well today, Kate. Here,” she said, handing her a cup of tea from the tray. “It’s nettle with honey. Good for keeping your strength up. I drank it for all eight—” she cut herself off, seeing Anthony’s panicked face.

Kate’s cheeks colored, and she gave Anthony a look that was equal parts amused and accusing. “Anthony, you told her?”

Anthony straightened, his face flushing. “I didn’t tell her anything, I swear!”

Violet chuckled, stepping forward. “Oh, I didn’t need to be told anything.” She placed a comforting hand on Kate’s shoulder, her expression warm. “A mother knows.”

Kate’s surprise gave way to a shy smile as she glanced at Anthony, who looked mildly embarrassed but also relieved. “Thank you, Violet.” She sipped the tea gratefully.

“You know,” Violet said, taking a seat in the chair opposite Kate, “I was very sick with all my boys. For nearly the entire time.”

Anthony, who had been nodding along gratefully, suddenly looked alarmed. “Wait—are you saying Kate might feel like this for months?”

Violet stifled a laugh. “Oh, yes, it’s possible. But I promise, Anthony, it’s all part of the process. And while it may be unpleasant,” she added, looking kindly at Kate, “it often means the little one is growing just as they should.”

Anthony blinked, processing this, and then turned to Kate with an almost comical look of dismay. “Months?” he murmured, and then added, more to himself, “Well, we’ll just have to make sure you’re comfortable.”

Kate bit back a smile, squeezing his hand. “I suppose you’ll be fetching a lot of tea, then.”

Violet watched their exchange with a smile, her eyes softening. “Trust me, my dears, your worries are perfectly natural. Edmund and I were the same with each child, waiting anxiously for every sign and symptom.” She brushed a hand over Kate’s cheek, her touch gentle. “You are very strong, Kate, and I look forward to meeting the little life you bring into this world. And know this—I’m here for you both, every step of the way.”

Kate felt the weight of her fears ease, her heart unclenching in a way she hadn’t allowed it to in weeks. She glanced up at Anthony, who caught her gaze and squeezed her hand, his expression softened by the same blend of relief and excitement reflected in her own eyes.

Chapter Text

The heavy drizzle of a London morning painted the windows of Bridgerton House in pale gray streaks.

Inside, Kate sat curled on the chaise by the fire, her knees drawn up beneath a blanket as she absently stroked Newton’s fur. Her teacup, half-full and long gone cold, rested on the small table beside her. Anthony watched her from the doorway, his brow furrowed as she closed her eyes briefly, leaning her head against the window frame.

He cleared his throat softly. “Kate?”

She opened her eyes and managed a faint smile. “You’re hovering again.”

Anthony stepped into the room, crossing to her side and lowering himself to sit on the ottoman in front of her. “I am not hovering. I am... observing.”

Kate huffed a soft laugh, but it quickly turned into a sigh. “I am fine, Anthony. Truly. Just... tired. And nauseous. And inexplicably warm, despite this dreary weather.”

His hand reached out, thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “That’s precisely why I’ve made a decision.”

Kate’s brow arched. “Oh no. Should I be alarmed?”

Anthony smirked but pressed on, his tone softening. “I’ve arranged for us to leave London for a few days. Just you and me. Away from the noise, the obligations, and... well, my siblings.”

Kate opened her mouth to argue, but the words never quite formed. She was too tired. Too worn thin by the endless demands of the ton, the weight of whispered expectations, the constant ache behind her ribs that she had been pretending wasn’t fear. She sighed, leaning her head back against the chaise. “We can’t simply drop everything because I feel unwell.”

“Why not?” His tone was so earnest that she blinked in surprise. “What could possibly be more important than you—than us?” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve already spoken to the staff. We’ll leave tomorrow. Just the two of us.”

Kate let out a long breath, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. Since Anthony’s recovery, they had been swept along in a relentless tide of social obligations. It was as if the ton had collectively decided they must make up for the time Anthony had spent ill, with invitations piling higher than the ledgers in Anthony’s study. It would be nice to escape from it all, however briefly. “And where do you propose we go?”

“A small estate near the coast,” Anthony said gently. “The air will be fresh, the house quiet. A few days away from the city will do us both good. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Kate turned her eyes back to him, searching his face. His worry was etched in the fine lines around his mouth, the tightness of his jaw, the shadow of fear in his dark eyes. A faint smile pulled at Kate’s lips, though the exhaustion in her eyes remained. “It sounds lovely.”

Anthony leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Then say yes, Kate. Let me take you away from all of this, just for a little while.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled softly in the grate, and the distant sound of rain continued to tap against the windows. Newton let out a sleepy huff, stretching slightly before settling back against Kate’s lap.

Finally, Kate let out a quiet sigh, her shoulders sagging slightly as if she were surrendering to the inevitable. “All right, my love. Let us escape, then.”

Anthony smiled—a true, bright smile that lit up his face and chased away the shadows that had lingered there for weeks. “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

As Anthony pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, Kate closed her eyes, letting herself believe in the promise of quiet days ahead—of salt air, gentle waves, and the warm strength of Anthony’s arms holding her close.

Chapter Text

The coastal estate was everything Anthony had promised. The sprawling gardens were filled with wildflowers, and the sea stretched endlessly beyond the cliffs, its waves rolling in with a soothing rhythm. The air smelled of salt and earth, sharp and bracing.

Kate stood on the small balcony of the little cottage, wrapped in a thick shawl as the wind tousled her hair. Behind her, Anthony emerged, carrying two steaming cups of tea.

“You’ll catch cold out here,” he said as he pressed one of the cups into her hands.

Kate took it gratefully, inhaling the fragrant steam. “It’s worth it. The sea... it feels alive, doesn’t it? As though it’s breathing with us.”

Anthony stepped beside her, his free hand resting lightly on her back. “You look better already.”

“I feel better,” Kate admitted, though her voice still carried a hint of weariness. “Or perhaps I just feel... peaceful.” She turned in his arms so she could face him. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.

“I did,” he said, meeting her gaze. “You deserve it. We both do.”

They stood together in silence for a moment, the crash of the waves below filling the space between them. Kate felt a quiet peace settle over her. For the first time in weeks, the uncertainty and worry seemed distant, eclipsed by Anthony’s steadfast presence. In his arms, she could almost believe that everything would be all right.

“Come,” he said softly. “Let’s walk down to the shore.”

Kate nodded, and together they descended the narrow path to the beach below, their hands intertwined. The sky was painted with streaks of pale gold and muted blue, and for a brief, precious moment, the world felt still and safe. Just them, the sea, and the fragile hope carried on the salty breeze.

The fire crackled softly in the small stone hearth, casting flickering golden light across the cozy sitting room of the cottage. Kate sat curled up on the settee, her legs tucked beneath her, as Anthony poured them both a glass of wine.

“Are you sure you should be having this?” he asked.

Kate chuckled. “One glass won’t hurt, Anthony.”

He handed her the glass before sinking onto the settee beside her. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the crackling fire and distant sound of waves filling the space between them.

Kate took a sip of her wine, her gaze lingering on Anthony as he stared into the fire. He looked… better. Stronger. The lingering pallor from his bout of influenza had faded, and there was a warmth to his skin again, a vitality in his eyes that eased something tight in her chest.

“Anthony,” she said softly.

He turned his head, eyebrows lifting slightly in question.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

“For bringing me here. For taking care of me. For always knowing when I need… this.” She gestured vaguely at the cottage, at the peace surrounding them.

Anthony’s expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll always take care of you, Kate.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and without thinking, she set her wineglass aside and leaned forward to kiss him.

It started soft—a brush of lips, a shared breath—but quickly grew deeper as Anthony set his own glass down and cupped her face in his hands.

Kate shifted closer, her body pressing into his, and Anthony groaned softly against her mouth.

“Kate,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “Are you sure? You’ve been so unwell…”

She smiled softly, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I feel better. And I’ve missed you, Anthony. I’ve missed this.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Between his illness and Kate’s symptoms, they had not laid together in nearly a month. And that was far too long for him.

Anthony stood, scooping her into his arms with a quiet laugh as she squeaked in surprise. He carried her toward the bedroom, pausing just inside the doorway to press a lingering kiss to her lips before lowering her gently onto the bed.

The firelight followed them into the room, casting golden shadows over their bodies as Anthony undressed her slowly, reverently, his every touch feather-light and deliberate.

Kate reached for him as he joined her beneath the sheets, their limbs tangling together as they rediscovered each other in slow, unhurried movements.

Anthony looked up at her, his hands settling on her hips as she moved to straddle him. He was mesmerized by the gentle way she met his gaze, her dark hair cascading around her face. With a soft, tender smile, she leaned down, brushing her lips against his, and he let himself melt into the sensation of her warmth.

As she began to move, a slight curve in her abdomen caught his eye. At first, Anthony thought it might just be the soft light of the fire playing tricks on him. But as his hands stilled on her waist, realization dawned like the first golden rays of sunrise.

“Kate…” he murmured, his fingers tracing the faint swell that had just begun to form. “Is this—could this be…” His voice trailed off, quiet, uncertain.

Kate stilled, her cheeks flushing as she glanced down. She’d been so cautious, hardly daring to let herself hope that it was real, that the small curve she’d started to notice was truly their child growing within her. Now, with Anthony’s hands resting gently on her belly, the reality of it felt so tangible that it stole her breath.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I think so.”

Anthony’s eyes shone with something raw and unguarded—joy, reverence, and a fragile kind of hope. His hands splayed protectively across her abdomen, his touch feather-light, as if he couldn’t quite believe this moment was real.

“You’re incredible,” he said softly, his hands caressing her with a newfound gentleness. “So beautiful.”

Kate let out a breathy laugh, feeling her own heartbeat quicken. “You’re really not going to be able to keep your hands off me from now on, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he whispered, his voice deep with emotion. His hands roamed over her, brushing against the growing curve of her belly with reverence, a look of pure adoration on his face. He pulled her face to his and kissed her deeply.

They moved slowly, savoring each touch, each whispered word, as if marking a new beginning together. As they lay entwined afterward, Kate nestled against his chest, her hand resting over his where it still lingered on her abdomen.

Outside, the tide rolled in and out, the waves whispering secrets to the shore. Inside the cottage, wrapped in Anthony’s arms, Kate felt a peace she hadn’t felt in weeks.

Chapter Text

The soft light of dawn filtered through the open cottage windows, painting the room with soft pink light. A gentle ocean breeze carried the faint scent of salt and seaweed, rustling the curtains and brushing over Kate’s skin. She stirred slightly, nestled beneath the quilt, half-asleep and completely content. The sound of the waves breaking rhythmically against the shore lulled her into a peaceful haze, her body sinking deeper into the mattress.

Anthony, already awake, lay beside her, propped on one elbow. His gaze lingered on her face, softened in sleep, her hair spilling across the pillow like dark silk. She looked so serene, so beautiful, that it made his chest ache with the weight of his love for her. He reached out, letting his fingers lightly trace the curve of her cheek, the bridge of her nose, and the delicate line of her jaw.

Kate sighed softly as she stirred again, leaning instinctively into his touch. He smiled, his hand slipping down to brush over her shoulder and along her arm, his touch feather-light. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her temple, then another to her cheek, and finally, one to the corner of her lips.

“Kate,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and warm, carried on the quiet morning air.

She made a small, sleepy sound in response, her lashes fluttering but not quite opening. “Hmm?”

“Good morning, my love,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear before pressing a kiss just below it. His hand slid beneath the quilt, finding the curve of her waist, and she shivered lightly at the sensation.

“Anthony,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep, “it’s too early…”

“Is it?” he teased, his lips now moving to her neck, trailing soft, unhurried kisses along her throat. “Or is it the perfect time?”

Kate’s lips twitched into a faint smile, and her eyes finally fluttered open, meeting his. The tenderness in his gaze melted away the last remnants of sleep, leaving her heart full and warm. “You’re incorrigible,” she murmured, though her tone lacked any real protest.

“I seem to recall you finding my incorrigibility quite charming.” he replied, grinning as his hand slid up her side, gently pulling her closer to him.

She laughed softly, the sound a quiet melody in the peaceful room. “I must have been out of my mind.”

“Out of your mind with love, perhaps,” he countered, his lips capturing hers in a slow, lingering kiss. It was a kiss meant to savor, to draw out every ounce of connection between them, and Kate felt it all the way down to her toes.

Kate sighed contentedly, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she shifted closer. The quilt slipped down her body, revealing the delicate nightgown she wore, its thin straps barely clinging to her shoulders. Anthony’s fingers found one of the straps, sliding it down her arm with deliberate care, his lips following the path of his hand.

The ocean breeze carried through the room again, cool against her skin, a perfect counterpoint to the warmth of his touch. He explored her slowly, reverently, as though rediscovering every inch of her. His kisses were unhurried, his hands tender, and Kate felt herself unraveling under his care.

“Anthony,” she whispered, her voice catching as his lips brushed the hollow of her throat.

“Hmm?” he hummed, not lifting his head, his hands now caressing her hips, her thighs, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“I love you,” she said softly, the words spilling from her without hesitation.

He finally lifted his head, meeting her gaze with a look so full of love it stole her breath. “I love you,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

The sunlight grew brighter as the morning continued, but neither of them noticed. In that quiet, golden morning, they were entirely and utterly lost in each other.

Chapter Text

The sky stretched endless and blue over the sea, the horizon blending into a hazy line where the water met the sky. The wind carried the tang of salt, the cool spray of the waves mingling with the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

Kate stood barefoot at the water’s edge, the foamy waves lapping at her toes, sending a shiver of delight up her spine. Her skirts were gathered just above her ankles, the fabric fluttering around her legs as she turned to look at Anthony.

He was watching her with an amused smirk, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his waistcoat discarded entirely. His trousers were already damp at the hems, evidence that he’d been creeping closer to the water even as he swore he wouldn’t.

“You’re staring,” Kate teased, tilting her chin up as she stepped deeper into the waves.

Anthony grinned. “Can you blame me? My wife is currently tempting fate by wading into the ocean fully clothed.”

Kate let out a soft laugh, twirling once in the water, enjoying the cool sensation against her warm skin. “Tempting fate?” she echoed. “Or merely proving that I can take care of myself?”

Anthony huffed a laugh, stepping forward, the waves washing over his feet now. “Oh, I know you can take care of yourself, darling,” he said, voice rich with warmth. “But forgive me if I’d rather not fish you out of the waves when a particularly strong one decides to sweep you away.”

Kate turned to him then, eyes glinting with mischief. “Is that a challenge, my love?”

Anthony barely had time to react before Kate lifted her skirts slightly and splashed him with a well-placed kick of seawater.

The look of utter betrayal on his face was instantaneous.

Kate let out a peal of delighted laughter, watching as Anthony blinked down at his now thoroughly damp trousers. For a moment, he said nothing—just took a deep, measured breath, too measured—before darting toward her.

Kate shrieked, turning on her heel to flee, but she barely made it two steps before Anthony caught her around the waist and lifted her clean off the ground.

“Anthony!” she gasped between laughter, her arms looping instinctively around his neck as he picked her up in his arms and spun them toward the deeper water.

“I warned you, Kate,” Anthony said, his grin devilish, his dark eyes dancing with unrestrained joy. “And now, I’m afraid, you must pay the price.”

Kate gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Anthony raised a brow. “Wouldn’t I?”

Before she could argue further, he waded into the water—deeper, deeper—until the waves lapped against his thighs.

Kate clung to him, laughing so hard she could hardly breathe, kicking her feet playfully as if to struggle, though she made no real effort to escape. She squealed as he feigned dropping her, his arms tightening just before the waves could claim her. Her laughter rang out across the shore, bright and unburdened.

“You are an absolute menace!” she declared between giggles.

For a long moment, they just stood there, the sea swirling around them, the afternoon light turning Kate’s damp curls a halo of gold. Anthony’s grin softened as he gazed at her. “I love seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice a little quieter now.

Kate blinked up at him, still breathless from laughter. “Like what?”

He leaned over, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “Happy.”

Kate’s heart stuttered at the raw sincerity in his voice. Happy. Yes. That was exactly what she felt. Smiling, she threaded her fingers into his wind-tousled hair. “Then perhaps,” she whispered, “you should play in the ocean with me more often.”

Anthony let out a mock sigh. “At the risk of losing all dignity, you mean?”

Kate giggled. “Oh, you lost your dignity the moment I met you, my love.”

Anthony let out a bark of laughter, then—without warning—dropped both of them into the waves.

Kate gasped as the cool water enveloped them, but her outrage was short-lived because Anthony was kissing her before she could even protest.

The water rocked gently around them as he cradled her against him, his lips warm despite the chill of the waves.

Kate sighed into the kiss, threading her arms around his neck, surrendering completely.

The fire crackled warmly in the small hearth of the seaside cottage, its glow casting flickering golden light across the wooden floor. The scent of salt still clung to the air, mingling with the faint traces of lavender from the drying herbs hanging in the corner.

Kate nestled deeper into the oversized chair by the fire, wrapped snugly in a thick woolen blanket. Her hair was still damp from the sea, curling slightly at the ends, and her skin carried the warmth of salt and sun. A fresh nightgown had replaced her soaked gown, the soft linen brushing against her skin with a comforting familiarity.

Anthony was a sight of utter contentment. He sat on the rug before the fire, his back leaning against the edge of her chair, his own damp curls tousled from the towel he had haphazardly run through them. His shirt, slightly loose from being hastily pulled on after their dip in the sea, was open at the collar, revealing the smooth, sun-kissed skin of his throat.

Between them sat a small tray bearing two cups of tea and a plate of fresh berries. Anthony reached absently for a blackberry, popping it into his mouth as he rested his head against Kate’s knee.

Kate sighed in quiet happiness, letting her fingers drift into his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp.

Anthony hummed appreciatively. “If you keep doing that, I may never move again.”

Kate laughed softly, twirling a damp curl around her finger. “You sound as though you’re complaining.”

“On the contrary,” he murmured, turning his head slightly so his lips brushed against her knee through the blanket. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Kate smiled, her heart full, her body warm from both the fire and his nearness.

She tilted her head back against the chair, letting her eyes drift shut for a moment as the heat of the flames seeped into her chilled bones. “This has been… a perfect day.”

Anthony turned his head fully now, watching her with that soft, knowing gaze he reserved only for her. “Yes, it has.”

Kate sighed again, her voice slipping into something wistful. “It reminds me of our honeymoon.”

Anthony hummed in agreement. “On the Greek coast? Corfu?”

Kate blinked, sitting up slightly, her fingers still tangled in his hair. “Yes. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

A slow smile spread across Anthony’s face. “Then I suppose we’re of one mind tonight.”

Kate laughed softly, tucking her feet up beneath her as she shifted slightly, letting Anthony turn more fully so he could rest his arms over her lap. She smoothed her fingers over the back of his neck, her touch absentminded, affectionate.

“I still think about those weeks often,” she admitted, her voice low, almost dreamlike. “The way the sky looked just before sunset… how the water felt warmer than the air… the scent of citrus everywhere we went.”

Anthony’s eyes softened with memory. “You loved it there.”

“I did.” Kate smiled, her gaze turning faraway. “I don’t think I’d ever felt so free before. Just you and me, with no obligations, no expectations. Only the sea and the sky and the days stretching endlessly ahead.”

Anthony tilted his head, watching her with quiet intensity. “We were happy there.”

Kate met his gaze, her breath catching slightly. “We were.”

He reached for her hand then, bringing it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist. His voice was quiet, certain. “We still are.”

Kate swallowed, the warmth in her chest spilling outward. “Yes,” she whispered. “We still are.”

Anthony’s lips brushed against her knuckles next, feather-light. “And we will be.”

Kate arched a brow, smiling down at him. “Are you making promises now, my love?”

His grin was slow, lazy and utterly besotted. “Always.”

Kate let out a soft, contented sigh, settling deeper into the chair, her hand still clasped in his.

Anthony shifted, turning back toward the fire, his thumb absently stroking over her palm. “You know,” he mused, voice full of warmth, “we should go back someday.”

Kate’s brows lifted in surprise. “To Corfu?”

He nodded, reaching for another berry from the plate and holding it up to her lips. Kate smirked but took it between her teeth, his fingers brushing lightly against her mouth as she did.

“One day,” Anthony continued, “we’ll go back. Just us.”

Kate felt her heart swell, an almost unbearable tenderness overtaking her.

“Just us,” she echoed, smiling softly.

Anthony turned back to her, his gaze full of quiet devotion. “You deserve more days like today.”

The fire burned low, the waves whispered against the cliffs outside, and the only sound within their little cottage was the soft, steady rhythm of their breathing.

Chapter Text

The cottage was quiet as the night settled in, the faint sound of waves lapping against the shore seeping through the open window. Kate stood in the middle of the small bedroom, her fingers brushing over the edge of the quilt on the bed. Once again, the day had been perfect—exploring the beach, laughing with Anthony, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin—but now, in the soft glow of the moonlight and the intimacy of the room, she felt a flicker of hesitation.

Anthony was at the small dresser near the window, lighting the candles one by one. Their warm glow softened the space, casting flickering shadows on the walls. He turned to her once the last wick caught flame, his gaze sweeping over her with the quiet intensity that always made her pulse quicken.

“Are you tired, love?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, meant just for her.

She shook her head. Her body was changing in ways that felt unfamiliar, and tonight, she wanted nothing more than his familiar touch. But even the thought of that stirred an ache she couldn’t quite name. “No, I’m not tired.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, stopping just in front of her. “Then what’s troubling you?” he asked gently, tilting her chin up with his finger so that her eyes met his.

Kate hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again. She shook her head slightly, unable to meet his gaze. “I... I don’t know,” she admitted finally, her cheeks warming. “It’s silly.”

Anthony frowned slightly, his hand moving to cradle her face. “Nothing that troubles you is silly, Kate. Tell me.”

She sighed, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her nightdress. “It’s just... my body feels different,” she murmured, her words barely above a whisper. “I feel different.”

Anthony was silent for a moment, his thumb brushing over her cheek as his eyes softened with concern. Then, without a word, he took her hands in his and pulled her gently toward the bed. He sat down, guiding her to stand between his knees, his hands settling lightly on her hips.

“Kate,” he began, his voice soft but firm. “When I look at you, I see the woman I love more than anything in this world. I see strength, and beauty, and the mother of our child. I see everything I’ve ever wanted, standing right here in front of me.”

Her breath caught, the sincerity in his words wrapping around her like a balm. She opened her mouth to respond, but the weight of her hesitation held her back. Instead, she placed her hands on his shoulders, grounding herself in his steady presence.

“Anthony—” she started, but he interrupted her with a tender kiss to her belly, his hands brushing reverently over her sides.

“Let me show you how beautiful you are,” he murmured.

The gesture made her heart ache, not with sadness but with something raw and unspoken. She sighed, gently pushing him away, though her expression softened when she saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes.

“This is exactly what I mean,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “You’ve been treating me like I’m some… some sacred goddess or something. And I do love you for that, but I don’t feel like myself anymore. I need—” She broke off, looking away, her cheeks flushing as her courage wavered.

Anthony’s brows drew together in concern, his hands never leaving her hips. “What is it, Kate?” he asked, his voice gentle but insistent. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. Always.”

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders as she took a steadying breath. “I want… I want you to treat me like you did when we were on our honeymoon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Before I was…” She gestured vaguely toward her stomach, where Anthony’s hands rested so reverently.

His frown deepened, confusion flickering in his eyes. “How did I treat you then?”

“Like I wasn’t fragile,” she said, her voice steadier now, though her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I miss the way you used to touch me… like you couldn’t hold yourself back. I want you to—I want…” Her voice faltered, but she forced herself to finish. “I want you to use me, Anthony. To hold me down, to take me. Like you used to.”

Anthony froze, her words hitting him like a thunderclap. For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the faint crash of waves outside.

“Kate,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a breath. “I don’t know if I can.”

Her face fell, disappointment flashing in her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because what if—what if I hurt you? Or…” His voice broke slightly, his gaze dropping to her stomach.

“You won’t,” she said firmly, stepping closer. “You’ve never hurt me, Anthony. I trust you more than anyone in this world. And I want this. I need this. I want to feel like myself again. I want to feel like I belong to you.”

Anthony’s breath came faster, his hands trembling slightly as they framed her face. His hesitation lingered in the air, thick and weighty, but Kate’s unwavering gaze rooted him.

“If that’s what you want,” he murmured, his voice unsteady with desire and emotion. “If that’s what you need… I’ll give it to you.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her lips brushing his as she straddled his lap. “Please, Anthony. Make me yours again.”

A low growl escaped his throat, and in one swift motion, he tightened his grip on her thighs and stood, pressing her back against the wall.

“You’ve always been mine,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice dark and possessive, his hands wandering wildly. “And you will always belong to me.”

Kate’s heart stuttered at the intensity in his voice, her breath hitching as she clung to his shoulders. “Then prove it,” she whispered, her eyes locking onto his.

Anthony’s pupils darkened, his restraint snapping like a thread pulled too tight. He carried her to the bed, laying her down with deliberate care before pinning her wrists above her head.

“You don’t know what you’ve just unleashed, Kate,” he said, his voice a mix of reverence and hunger.

Kate smiled, a spark of exhilaration lighting in her chest. “Show me.”

Chapter Text

The sunlight danced across the water’s surface, turning it into a glimmering expanse of pale blue and silver. A faint breeze stirred the salty air, ruffling the edges of Kate’s light shawl as she sat beside Anthony on a worn woolen blanket spread across the sand.

It was another perfect day—the kind of day where the world felt quiet and still, as if holding its breath just for them.

Anthony leaned back on his elbows, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and the top buttons of his loose linen shirt undone. His hair was tousled from the wind, and there was a faint flush of color on his cheeks—evidence of the sun and his growing strength after weeks of recovery from his illness. The deep shadows beneath his eyes had faded, and his usual sharp edges had softened into something easier, something… peaceful.

Kate sat cross-legged beside him, her skirts tucked carefully under her, her hair spilling out from its pins in the wind. She watched him for a long moment, her dark eyes lingering on the curve of his mouth and the way the sunlight caught the faint stubble on his jaw.

“You look better,” she said softly, breaking the gentle silence between them.

Anthony turned his head, his brown eyes meeting hers. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Do I?”

Kate nodded, her smile faint but warm. “You do. Less gaunt. Less… haunted.” Her smile faltered slightly, her brow creasing as she looked down at her hands. “You frightened me, Anthony. Truly. There were moments I thought—” She stopped herself, shaking her head as if to banish the memory.

Anthony’s hand found hers, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. “I know, Kate. I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken fears and quiet gratitude lingering between them.

Kate turned her gaze back to the ocean, the sunlight glinting in her eyes. “I like it here,” she said softly, her voice carrying on the breeze. “The sea, the quiet...”

She hesitated, biting her lower lip as she glanced back at him. “Do you think we could stay a little longer? Just a few more days?”

“Kate, we can stay for the rest of our lives if that’s what pleases you.” Anthony’s thumb stilled over her knuckles, his eyes softening as he studied her profile. “You look better too, you know.” He reached out to cup her face in his hand, brushing his thumb gently across her cheek. “I’ve been worried about you.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly undid her. She let out a soft, shaky laugh, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I’m alright, Anthony. Truly. I feel so much better these days.”

They stayed like that for a long moment—Anthony’s hand warm against her cheek, Kate’s eyes locked with his, the ocean stretching endlessly before them.

Eventually, Anthony leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before drawing her into his arms. They sat together, wrapped in each other, the world narrowing down to just the two of them and the gentle rhythm of the sea.

Kate closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder, her hand coming to rest lightly over her stomach. There was still so much she couldn’t quite say aloud—her fears, her hopes, the fragile joy blooming in her chest. But here, in Anthony’s arms, with the sun warming their skin and the waves singing softly in the background, she let herself feel it all.

Chapter Text

The soft rush of waves against the shore was the only sound as Kate and Anthony wandered hand in hand along a quiet stretch of the shoreline. The air was warm, the sky a pale blue streaked with soft clouds, and the sand beneath their feet was cool and smooth. Kate’s fingers tightened around Anthony’s as she pointed ahead.

“What’s that over there?” she asked, her excitement infectious.

Anthony followed her gaze to a tucked-away cove, framed by towering rock walls and partially hidden by an outcropping. The secluded spot seemed to beckon, a little haven just for the two of them.

“Let’s find out,” Anthony said, his lips curving into a small smile as he let her tug him forward.

They stepped into the cove, the space feeling like a world apart. The rocks rose high around them, sheltering them from view, and the sunlight filtered down in soft patches, dancing on the sand. Kate let go of his hand to explore, running her fingers along the weathered rock and tilting her face to the sky. She spun to face him, her hair catching the light, and Anthony felt his chest tighten. Even after all these months, she could take his breath away with a single glance.

“Isn’t it perfect?” she asked, her voice bright with wonder.

“It is,” he agreed, though he was looking at her, not the cove.

Kate laughed, shaking her head, but before she could reply, Anthony reached for her, his hands settling on her waist as he pulled her against him. He leaned back against one of the large rock walls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Anthony!” she laughed, though she made no move to pull away.

“Yes, my love?” His tone was all innocence, though his hands slid lower, settling on the curve of her hips.

She narrowed her eyes at him but couldn’t keep the smile from her lips. “You’re incorrigible.”

“True,” he murmured, lowering his head to brush a kiss against her temple. “But you like me this way.”

“I suppose I do,” she admitted softly, tilting her face up to his.

Their playful banter gave way to something quieter as their eyes met. Anthony’s fingers tightened slightly on her hips, and Kate’s hands came to rest against his chest. She lifted herself onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened.

Anthony’s breath hitched as her hands slid up to his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. She kissed him again, slower this time, before letting her lips wander to the line of his jaw, then down to his throat. He groaned softly, his head falling back against the rock wall as she continued, her kisses teasing and deliberate.

When Kate dropped to her knees before him, her hands deftly undoing the fastenings of his trousers, Anthony’s eyes snapped open.

“Kate—” His voice was rough, and his hands came to her shoulders, stilling her movements and pulling her to her feet again. “You shouldn’t—”

She looked at him, her expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because of your…condition,” he said, his thumb brushing over her shoulder.

“My condition?” she repeated, her lips twitching with a smile. “Anthony, if anything, I think my condition is making me want to do this more.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I was dreaming about this last night.”

He made a low sound in his throat, his restraint cracking under the weight of her words. Her breath was warm against his ear, and the way she looked at him—mischievous and utterly, irresistibly his—was his undoing.

“Kate,” he growled, his hands sliding to her arms. For a moment, he hesitated, his thumb stroking her skin as though giving her one last chance to pull back.

Kate only laughed, her joy ringing like a bell in the secluded cove. “Oh, stop being so noble,” she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I promise, I’m perfectly fine. Now, will you please let me make my husband very happy?”

Anthony hesitated for another moment, but the look in Kate’s eyes broke his remaining restraint. He exhaled sharply, then gently pushed her to her knees, his fingers threading through her hair as he leaned down to kiss her once more. “Kate, you are unbelievable,” he murmured, though there was no mistaking the heat in his voice.

“Believe it, my love,” Kate replied, her laughter soft and full of love as she began to undo his trousers again.

Anthony watched her in awe before leaning his head back against the wall of the cove. He found himself staring at the sky, briefly thanking whatever it was that had brought Kate to him.

Chapter Text

Dearest gentle reader,

It seems that our favorite newlyweds, the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton, have once again vanished from London society. After gracing us with their presence at their splendid ball—notably following the Viscount’s alarming bout of influenza, from which, I assure you, we are all relieved to see him so thoroughly recovered—it appears the pair has made a hasty retreat to the countryside. Or, more accurately, the seaside.

The official word, of course, is that this excursion was undertaken for the sake of the Viscount’s health. Yet, one cannot help but notice that the Lord and Lady Bridgerton seem far less concerned with medicinal remedies and far more preoccupied with each other. Indeed, dear reader, the affectionate glances, the lingering touches, the way the Viscount seems entirely unable to keep his eyes—or hands—off his wife, all lead this author to believe that their absence is less about recovery and more about revelry. In short, if this is not a second honeymoon, then this author will eat her quill.

Either way, this author can offer nothing but her sincerest wishes for their continued health… and marital bliss.

Yours ever faithfully,

Lady Whistledown

The afternoon sun poured generously over the small terrace of their seaside cottage, painting the stone walls gold and casting long shadows across the weathered wooden table where Anthony and Kate sat together. A pot of tea sat between them, steam curling gently into the salty air. Somewhere in the distance, gulls called out over the waves.

Anthony was reclining in his chair, shirt sleeves rolled up and collar undone, looking relaxed in a way Kate rarely saw. His hair was windswept, his face sun-kissed, and there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched Kate slice into a small fruit tart.

For a moment, it felt as though they were outside of time—removed from titles, responsibilities, and expectations. Just two people, quietly enjoying a stolen moment.
The illusion was broken when a footman appeared on the terrace, a letter in hand.

“Forgive me, my lord, but this just arrived from London. Marked urgent.”

Anthony sighed heavily, his head tipping back with exaggerated weariness as he reached out to take the letter. “Urgent,” he muttered. “It’s always urgent.”

Kate paused, her fork hovering over the tart as she watched him unfold the parchment. His eyes scanned the page, his brow furrowing slightly as he read. When he finished, he set the letter down on the table with a heavy sigh.

“Well,” Kate said softly, her voice steady despite the faint ache in her chest. “What is it?”

Anthony didn’t answer immediately. His face was twisted in an expression Kate was beginning to recognize—his desire to be both a dutiful viscount and husband, the needs for each constantly at odds with one another. “Apparently I’m needed back in London.”

“Oh.” Kate pressed her lips together. She shook her head gently, trying to chase away the disappointment. “Well, we must do as the letter says.”

She sat back in her chair, expecting Anthony to rise and turn into the house. Instead, he picked up the letter, stared at it for a long moment, and then—with deliberate flair—ripped it clean in two.

“Anthony!” Kate gasped, her eyes wide as the two halves fluttered to the table.

But Anthony wasn’t done. He ripped it again, and again, until the pieces of fine stationery littered the table like confetti.

“What letter?” he said simply, raising an eyebrow at her.

Kate stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, clutching her side as she leaned back in her chair. “You absolute child!”

Anthony smirked, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “I see no letter. Do you see a letter, Kate?”

She shook her head, still laughing. “No. It seems there’s no letter at all. And yet, I have the strangest feeling there was one.”

Anthony grinned but leaned forward slightly, his voice softer now. “Kate, I’m not leaving.”

Her laughter faded, and her smile turned gentle as she studied him. “Anthony… you can’t simply ignore your responsibilities.”

Anthony reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Kate, I need this.” He gestured vaguely to the sea behind them, the soft breeze, the quiet terrace where they sat. “We need this.”

Kate’s brows knitted slightly, her fingers tightening around his. “But—”

“No buts,” Anthony said firmly. “Benedict has been managing things admirably. He handled the estate while we were on our honeymoon, and when I was sick. Surely, he can handle this too.”

Kate couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Benedict. “We owe him, you know. A very large favor.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle, leaning back into his chair again. “We owe him more than one, I think. Perhaps I’ll commission him a painting to celebrate his time as Acting Viscount. Something horrid—maybe of him standing heroically atop a hill.”

Kate giggled, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Oh, he’d hate that. You should absolutely do it.”

Anthony’s grin softened into something more sincere as he looked at her. “Let my brother handle it. For now, let’s stay here, just a little longer. The world will keep spinning without us for a few more days.”

Kate exhaled softly, her gaze searching his face. She could see it—the exhaustion he still carried deep in his bones, the weight he had been shouldering since boyhood. But here, in this place, in this quiet corner of the world, she could also see something else: peace.

“All right,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “We’ll stay.”

Anthony smiled broadly, triumphant, as he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “That’s my girl.”

Kate rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “You know, Anthony, if Benedict finds out about this little rebellion of yours, he might decide he enjoys being Acting Viscount a little too much.”

Anthony barked a laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. Benedict has no interest in ledgers or tenant disputes. He’ll be relieved when we return.” He shrugged. “Though honestly I wouldn’t mind if someone else wanted to take over.”

Kate smiled softly as she turned her gaze back to the sea. She knew he meant it, that he would gladly give up his responsibility if it meant he could be only her husband, if his family would still be cared for. They sat in companionable silence, their hands still intertwined on the table. The waves rolled in, steady and eternal, and the sun hung low in the sky, painting everything in soft gold.

Chapter Text

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the ocean and the sand, turning the shoreline into something out of a dream. The waves lapped gently against the shore, their steady rhythm the only sound apart from the occasional soft rustle of wind in the dunes. The night was cool, but not cold, and Kate pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders as she walked barefoot beside Anthony.

His hand was warm and solid around hers, grounding her as they wandered aimlessly along the beach near their cottage. It was a stolen moment of peace, the kind they rarely got in London, where the demands of society seemed to follow them everywhere. Here, with only the ocean as their witness, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Anthony stopped suddenly, tugging her hand to bring her to a halt as well. “Do you hear that?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Kate frowned slightly, tilting her head to listen. “Hear what?”

“The water,” he said, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s calling you.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he challenged, his grin widening. He stepped toward the edge of the water, where the waves barely kissed the sand. “Come on, Kate. Just dip your toes in.”

“It’s freezing,” she countered, staying firmly in place. “And I’m perfectly content right here.”

Anthony turned back to her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you afraid?”

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “I am not afraid.”

“Then prove it.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes gleamed with challenge as he held out a hand to her.

She hesitated for only a moment before sighing dramatically. “Fine.” She stepped forward, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her closer to the water’s edge. The first touch of the waves sent a shiver up her spine, and she squeaked softly, making Anthony laugh.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” he asked, his grin infuriatingly smug.

“It’s awful,” she replied, though she couldn’t help but smile as well. “And you’re awful for making me do this.”

“Am I?” he asked, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. He stepped closer to her, his hands finding her waist as the waves lapped at their feet. “Because I’m fairly certain you’re enjoying yourself.”

She looked up at him, her smile softening. “I might be. Just a little.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a fleeting kiss before pulling back with that same mischievous gleam in his eye. “You know,” he said, his hands tightening slightly on her waist, “you’d enjoy it more if you just dove in.”

“Anthony Bridgerton,” she said, her tone half-warning, half-laughing. “Don’t you dare—”

Before she could finish, he leaned forward and grabbed her waist, spinning them both toward the water. She shrieked, laughing as she clung to him. “Anthony!”

“Too late now,” he said with a grin, carrying her a few steps into the shallow waves before setting her down with exaggerated care.

Kate gasped as the water soaked the hem of her dress, her laughter echoing against the quiet night. She turned to him, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You’ll regret that.”

“Oh, will I?” he asked, clearly unconcerned.

She splashed him in response, a small wave of water hitting him square in the chest. He stood frozen for a moment, blinking in mock indignation, before launching a splash of his own. Kate squealed, trying to dodge, but her dress and shawl were no match for the relentless waves Anthony sent her way.

In seconds, they were both soaked, laughing breathlessly as they waded through the shallows. The moonlight caught the droplets of water clinging to their skin and clothes, turning them into shimmering stars.

“Alright, truce!” Kate said, holding up her hands in surrender, her laughter still bubbling up.

Anthony stepped closer, his hands finding her waist again, this time holding her gently. “Truce,” he murmured, his voice softer now as he looked down at her.

The playful energy between them shifted, turning into something quieter, more intimate. The sound of the waves faded into the background as Anthony cupped her cheek, brushing away a droplet of water with his thumb. “You are so beautiful,” he said softly, his gaze full of wonder.

Kate felt her breath catch, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his tone. “Anthony…”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, filled with all the love he couldn’t put into words. Kate melted into him, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she kissed him back, her heart pounding in time with the waves.

The water lapped at their feet, cool and insistent, but neither of them noticed. All that mattered was the warmth of each other, the way their bodies fit together as though they were made to. Anthony’s hands slipped lower, anchoring her against him as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a mixture of reverence and need. Kate responded in kind, her fingers threading through the damp curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together. Anthony’s hands framed her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks as he smiled softly. “Shall we find somewhere a little drier?” he asked, his voice laced with both humor and heat.

Kate tilted her head, her lips quirking in amusement. “If we must.”

Taking her hand, Anthony led her away from the water’s edge. The sand clung to their wet feet as they made their way to the quilt they’d brought out with them hours ago. The sound of the waves was softer here, a gentle whisper rather than a roar, as if the ocean itself was granting them privacy.

Anthony turned to her as they reached the blanket, and his eyes roamed over her in the moonlight. Her cotton nightgown clung to her damp skin, accentuating every curve, and he could see the slight swell of her stomach beneath the fabric. The sight filled him with a deep, quiet awe. “Kate,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re breathtaking.”

She stepped closer to him, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “You’re biased,” she teased, though her voice was soft, and her expression was open and vulnerable.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, reaching out to brush a strand of wet hair from her face. His hand lingered, cupping her cheek, and his thumb traced the line of her jaw. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

Kate leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When she opened them again, they were filled with a mix of affection and mischief. “Are you going to keep admiring me from afar, or are you going to kiss me again?”

Anthony’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Oh, I intend to do far more than kiss you.”

He pulled her down on the quilt, his hands finding her waist as his mouth claimed hers once more. This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as though they had all the time in the world. His hands traveled lower, finding the edge of her skirt and pushing it up as he kissed his way down her throat.

Kate pulled away, slightly, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Anthony,” she said, looking around. “We shouldn’t.”

He huffed lightly against her skin, a chuckle bubbling up from his chest. “Kate. We’re all alone. It’s midnight.” He brushed his lips against her ear. “And I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Kate melted against him, her fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders and back as his hands slid up her dress. “Anthony,” she murmured, her voice a mix of plea and encouragement.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his breathing ragged. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and rough.

“You,” she replied without hesitation, her hands sliding to the front of his shirt to undo the buttons. “Always you.”

Anthony made a low sound in his throat, something between a growl and a sigh, and captured her mouth in another kiss. As her fingers worked at his shirt, his hands moved to her hips, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

The cool breeze brushed against her skin, mingling with the warmth of his touch as he knelt over her. His hands moved reverently, tracing every curve and contour as though memorizing her anew. He leaned down, his mouth finding hers again as his fingers slid over the damp fabric of her dress, pushing it higher. Kate arched into him, her hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, tugging him closer.

The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the rhythm of the waves in the distance. Anthony’s lips moved lower, pressing kisses to her collarbone, her breasts, his hands grasping her hips as though grounding himself in the moment.

Kate threaded her fingers through his hair, her breath catching as he continued his exploration. “Anthony,” she murmured, her voice filled with both urgency and affection.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with emotion. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” she replied, her hand cupping his cheek as she pulled him back up to her.

When it was over, he held her tightly to his chest, pressing soft kisses to the crown of her head. “We should make our way inside,” he said. “You need to dry off and warm up.”

She sighed happily against him. “Mmm, I don’t know,” she murmured. “I’m awfully comfortable right here.”

He chuckled. “Me too. But I fear it won’t last long.”

As if on cue, a gentle breeze blew, raising the hairs on Kate’s arms. She shivered as Anthony chuckled.

“See? I’m always right,” he said, gently untangling himself from her.

She grumbled at the loss of his warmth, but then she was lifted easily into his arms. She gasped and then laughed, the sound breathless and full of joy, as he guided her back toward the cottage.

“Anthony, I can walk,” she said, but her voice held no tone of protest.

“Yes,” he said. “And I can carry you.” He stopped walking for a moment, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “And you will not argue.”

She huffed half-heartedly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he continued towards the warm little house.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun poured through the open windows of the cottage, bathing the small room in soft light. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea and wildflowers, rustling the gauzy curtains and making the whole space feel alive with gentle motion. It was the kind of day that whispered of peace, of moments too fleeting and perfect to let slip away.

Kate sat curled up in a chair by the window, her legs tucked beneath her robe, pen in hand as she scribbled in her journal. Anthony lounged on the settee nearby, a book open in his hands, though he hadn’t turned a page in some time.

His attention had wandered from the printed words to his wife.

She looked breathtaking, though he knew she’d scoff if he said so out loud. Her hair was loosely tied back, a few strands falling free to frame her face. She was absently tapping the pen against her lip as she wrote. The sunlight danced across her skin, highlighting the curve of her cheek and the delicate slope of her collarbone where her robe had slipped slightly.

Anthony set his book down, his gaze lingering. It struck him, as it often did, how she managed to be so many things at once—elegant and unassuming, fierce and gentle, utterly captivating whether in a ball gown or the simple loungewear she wore now.

Kate looked up, catching him staring. Her brows arched, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Are you quite finished?”

“Not even close,” he replied, his tone warm and easy, though his eyes betrayed a deeper affection.

She shook her head, setting her journal aside. “Anthony, if you’re going to look at me like that, you might as well say what’s on your mind.”

He stood, stretching slightly before making his way to her. “What’s on my mind,” he said as he reached for her hand, “is that I’d very much like to dance with my wife.”

Kate blinked, surprised. “Dance? Here? Now?”

“Why not?” he asked, tugging her gently to her feet.

“Well, for one thing, there’s no music.” She let him pull her close, her free hand coming to rest on his chest as she looked up at him with amused skepticism.

Anthony smiled, tilting his head. “Do you remember the first song we danced to at our wedding ball?”

Kate furrowed her brow, thinking. She remembered the way he had looked at her, the way his arms felt around her, but she couldn't hear anything in the memory besides the beating of her heart. “Not really,” she admitted sheepishly. “Do you?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice soft but certain. “I remember every moment of that day.”

The sincerity in his tone made her heart ache in the best way. “You are far too sweet sometimes, Anthony Bridgerton,” she said, her smile softening as her fingers played with the lapel of his robe.

He began to hum then, the melody low and steady. As he did, he guided her into the first steps of a waltz, his hand at her waist and the other holding hers gently.

Kate laughed, the sound light and full of joy. “You are ridiculous,” she said, though she followed his lead without hesitation.

“Perhaps,” he replied, spinning her in a slow, graceful turn. “But you love me for it.”

“That I do,” she said softly, her teasing tone giving way to something more tender.

They moved together in the quiet room, the rhythm of Anthony’s humming and the breeze through the windows their only accompaniment. Kate let herself relax into him, her hand slipping from his shoulder to trace the line of his jaw. He smiled down at her, his steps slowing until they were no longer dancing but simply standing together.

Anthony’s arms came around her, holding her close as her head rested against his chest. For a long moment, they stayed like that, swaying gently in the stillness.

Kate tilted her face up to meet his gaze, her eyes soft with affection. “What was your favorite part of our wedding day?” she whispered.

“Our wedding night,” he answered quickly, grinning as he leaned to kiss her on the forehead.

She laughed. “Anthony.”

He tipped her chin up and kissed her deeply. “Other than that…the moment I saw you for the first time. In your dress, your jewelry. You took my breath away, Kate. Truly. You sparkled in the sunlight, and then you smiled at me and I thought maybe I’d died and gone to heaven.”

Her breath caught, and she reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over the stubble along his jaw. “Anthony…”

“I mean it,” he said, his voice barely more than a murmur. “Every day, I wonder how I got so lucky. To have you. To have this.” His hand moved to her stomach, resting there gently.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she laughed softly, shaking her head. “You are going to make me cry, and then you’ll regret it.”

“Never,” he said, his lips quirking into a small smile as he leaned down to kiss her, slow and sweet and full of promise.

Chapter Text

The soft morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains of their bedroom, casting golden streaks across the crumpled sheets. The scent of salt and lavender lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth of the fire crackling low in the hearth. The air was heavy with the quiet, languid stillness of a morning spent wrapped in each other—skin to skin, lips tracing familiar paths, whispered laughter dissolving into sighs of pleasure.

Kate lay against Anthony’s chest, her bare skin still flushed, her fingers lazily tracing idle patterns across his ribs. Anthony rested one arm beneath his head, the other curled protectively around her.

For a long moment, they simply existed in the silence, the steady rhythm of their breathing in sync, the weight of his hand grounding her.

Kate shifted slightly, pressing a slow, tender kiss to his shoulder. “You’re quiet,” she murmured against his skin.

Anthony exhaled, long and slow. His fingers stilled on her abdomen, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Just thinking.”

Kate hummed, her hand slipping up to rest over his heart. “About what?”

He hesitated, his thumb stroking absentmindedly against her side. “About the future.” His voice was softer now, almost reverent. “About being a father.”

Kate’s lips curled into a sleepy smile. “You’re going to be wonderful, Anthony.”

He huffed out a breath, part amusement, part disbelief. “You say that with such certainty.”

She lifted her head to look at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Because it’s true.”

Anthony swallowed, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on her waist. “I don’t know, Kate.” His voice was quieter now, edged with something raw, something uncertain. “I keep thinking about my father. About the kind of man he was. How much he loved us. How much he carried. And how quickly he was taken.”

Kate’s heart clenched at the pain in his voice. She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow so she could study his face, her fingers sliding up to trace along his jaw. “Anthony—”

“I was still so young when he died,” Anthony continued, his voice distant, lost in memory. “I had no warning. No preparation. One moment, he was there, laughing in the garden, and the next, he was—” He broke off, his throat working around the words. “Gone.”

Kate’s fingers tightened against his jaw, guiding his gaze to hers. “Oh, Anthony.”

He let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “What if I don’t know how to do this? My father made it look effortless. The way he loved us, the way he made everything seem safe.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “What if I can’t be that for our child? Or worse, what if I can and then they lose me too?”

Kate’s chest ached at the vulnerability in his voice. Without hesitation, she reached out, cupping his face between her hands, her touch steady, unwavering. “Anthony. You will be everything to our child.” She locked her gaze on his. “And they are not going to lose you. You are not going anywhere.”

Anthony swallowed hard, his hands coming up to grasp her wrists, as if grounding himself in her certainty.

Kate leaned in, pressing a kiss to his brow, then another to the bridge of his nose. “You already love this child so much, Anthony. I see it in the way you look at me, in the way you worry over every moment, every meal, every breath I take.” She rested her forehead against his, her voice steady. “You are already more than enough.”

Anthony closed his eyes briefly, exhaling against her lips. His hands slipped down to rest over her abdomen, his fingers splaying wide over the place where their child was growing. “I just want to be the father they deserve.”

Kate covered his hands with her own, her thumbs brushing gently along his knuckles. “You already are.”

Anthony inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening ever so slightly against her stomach, and then—without a word—he rolled onto his side, gathering her fully into his arms.

Kate melted into him, her cheek pressed against his chest, the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath her ear. His arms were strong, solid, holding her as if she were something precious, something irreplaceable.

Chapter Text

The room was bathed in the soft, silvery light of the full moon streaming through the open window. The breeze was cool against their heated skin as they lay entwined in the quiet stillness of the night. Anthony’s arm rested protectively around Kate, his fingers idly tracing patterns on her bare shoulder as her head rested against his chest, rising and falling with each steady breath he took.

Kate sighed softly, her gaze drifting to the window. The moon hung low in the sky, its light shimmering across the waves in the distance. “It’s so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice warm and drowsy. “I think I love the seaside most at night. Everything feels so peaceful, like the world is holding its breath.”

Anthony glanced down at her, his hand stilling against her shoulder. “I agree,” he said, his voice low and tender. “But I think I love it most because it makes you happy.”

Kate lifted her head slightly, tilting her face up to look at him. Her dark eyes were soft, filled with affection. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said, her fingers lightly tracing the lines of his collarbone. “And for taking care of me. I don’t think I say it often enough, but I’m so grateful for you, Anthony.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin as his gaze met hers. “You never need to thank me,” he said quietly. “It is my greatest privilege to care for you, Kate. Always.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment.

When he pulled back, his lips quirked into a soft smile. “Would you like to go outside and look at the stars?”

Kate blinked, surprised by the suggestion, but a smile quickly spread across her face. “Now? In the middle of the night?”

“Why not?” he asked, already sitting up. “The stars are brightest when the world is quiet. And I have it on good authority that my wife enjoys moonlit adventures.”

She laughed, her voice light and full of joy. “How could I say no to that?”

They pulled on their robes, grabbing one of the quilts from the bed for warmth and another to lay on. Anthony took Kate’s hand as they made their way down to the beach, their bare feet sinking into the cool, soft sand. The moon cast its glow over the water, turning the waves into silver ribbons that danced in the distance.

They found a spot near the shore, where the sound of the waves was soothing but not overpowering. Anthony spread the quilt out on the sand, and they settled onto it, Kate tucking herself into his side as he wrapped the second quilt snugly around them.

For a while, they lay in comfortable silence, staring up at the vast expanse of stars twinkling above them. The night sky was clear, the constellations sharp and vivid against the inky blackness. Anthony broke the silence, his voice soft. “There,” he said, pointing upward. “Saptarishi.”

Kate followed his gaze, her breath catching as she spotted the seven stars of the constellation. She turned to him, her expression filled with wonder. “You remember that?”

“Of course,” he said, his arm tightening around her. “How could I forget? I love that I get to think of you every time I look at the night sky.”

Her throat tightened with emotion, but she managed a teasing smile. “Anthony Bridgerton, you’ve become positively, terribly romantic.”

He grinned, unrepentant. “Can you blame me? A great love requires great romance.”

Kate laughed, but the sound was soft, her amusement tempered by the weight of his words. “A great love,” she repeated, her tone playful, though her heart felt like it might burst. “Do you really think that’s what we have?”

Anthony turned to her, his expression suddenly serious. “I do,” he said with quiet certainty. “I believe we have a love as legendary as the ones they name the stars after. The kind of love that defies reason, that changes everything it touches. You are my everything, Kate. How could it be anything else?”

For a moment, she was speechless, her usual quick wit failing her. His words were so raw, so honest, they left her breathless. She reached up, cupping his cheek, and pulled him close, her lips finding his in a kiss that was both tender and fervent, an unspoken reply to everything he’d just said.

The stars above seemed to shine a little brighter as they held each other close under the vast, infinite sky.

Chapter Text

The salty breeze carried the faint scent of lavender as it drifted through the cottage garden. The morning sun peaked above the horizon, bathing the world in warm gold as birds flitted between the hedges. Kate wandered slowly along the garden path, her fingertips brushing over the tops of wildflowers, her other hand resting lightly against her abdomen.

She’d felt it when she first woke, still lying in bed—a faint flutter, like the whisper of butterfly wings deep inside her. It was so soft, so fleeting, that she’d almost dismissed it as her imagination. But now, walking through the quiet garden, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Her steps slowed as she paused beneath the shade of an old oak tree, her hand still resting against her stomach. Could it truly be happening? Or was it just wishful thinking, born from weeks of anxious anticipation?

“Kate!”

Anthony’s voice cut through the quiet, and she looked up to see him crossing the garden toward her, his shirtsleeves rolled up, the wind exposing glimpses of his broad chest through the unbuttoned cotton. His face softened as he caught sight of her, his expression shifting from playful affection to quiet concern.

“You’ve been out here for ages,” he said gently, reaching for her hand. “Is everything all right?”

Kate hesitated, her lips parting as she searched for the words. Her chest felt tight, her heart hammering against her ribs. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I… I think I felt something.”

Anthony stilled. His hand tightened slightly around hers, his brow furrowing as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “Something?”

Kate swallowed, her other hand coming to rest over her abdomen again. “It was so faint, like a flutter. I thought I imagined it, but…”

Her voice faltered, her eyes brimming with hesitant hope as she looked up at him.

Anthony’s breath hitched as he stared at her, his dark eyes wide and unblinking. Slowly, almost reverently, he lifted his hand to cover hers against her belly. His fingers were warm, slightly unsteady, as if afraid that pressing too hard might break the moment entirely.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse, trembling with emotion.

Kate let out a soft, shaky laugh. “No. That’s just it, Anthony. I don’t know. It was so faint, so fleeting… but it felt real.”

Anthony’s face broke into a wide, unguarded smile, and for a moment, he looked as if he might laugh or cry—or both. His hand stayed pressed gently against her stomach, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her gown as if he could will the sensation to return.

“We need to see Dr. Morton,” he said suddenly, his voice firm with determination. “He’ll know for certain. He’ll tell us if—”

“Anthony,” Kate interrupted gently, her free hand rising to rest against his cheek. “It might still be too early to know anything for sure.”

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “But you felt something, Kate. I can’t—I can’t just sit here wondering if it was real.”

The vulnerability in his voice made her chest ache, and she nodded softly. “All right. Let’s go back to London.”

Anthony’s shoulders sagged with relief, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before guiding her gently back toward the cottage.

Chapter Text

The familiar grandeur of Bridgerton House wrapped around them as they arrived home, the scent of roses filling the air as the footmen rushed to bring in their trunks. Dr. Morton had been summoned the moment they arrived, and now Kate sat perched on the edge of a chaise in her bedroom, Anthony standing nearby, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The doctor was gentle but thorough as he examined Kate, listening carefully to her description and asking a series of patient questions. Anthony hovered in the background, visibly restraining himself from interrupting every thirty seconds.

Finally, Dr. Morton straightened and offered a kind smile. “Lady Bridgerton, what you’ve described is very likely the first sensation of movement. It’s quite common for women to experience it at this stage.”

Anthony stepped forward, his voice sharp with hope. “Then it’s true? She’s felt the baby?”

Dr. Morton raised a hand in a calming gesture. “It’s very likely, my lord, but it’s still early. These initial sensations can be faint, inconsistent. Over the next few weeks, they’ll become more distinct, and then we can be certain.”

Anthony groaned under his breath, his impatience plain. “Weeks?” He shot Kate a frustrated look. “Haven’t we waited long enough already?”

Kate reached out and touched his hand, her fingers warm against his knuckles. “Anthony, it’s alright. This is… this is good news. Isn’t it?”

Anthony let out a long, shaky breath and sank down beside her on the chaise. He took her hand in both of his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

Dr. Morton began gathering his tools back into his leather bag. “For now, Lady Bridgerton, rest and continue eating well. Pay attention to those sensations, and in a few weeks, I’ll return for another examination. But truly—this is a very hopeful sign.”

Kate nodded, her smile soft and steady as she thanked the doctor. Once he had gone, Anthony turned fully to her, his hand still clutching hers.

He released an impatient sigh. “Weeks,” he muttered under his breath. “As though we haven’t been waiting all this time already!”

Kate bit back a smile, her amusement growing as she watched his exasperation. She reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Anthony, honestly, you’re behaving like an impatient child who can’t wait to open his presents.”

“Well,” he admitted with a rueful grin, “that’s not entirely inaccurate. I’ve been thinking of little else since… well, since we married, really.”

She softened, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m eager too,” she said quietly, her voice laced with yearning. “But I’m trying not to get my hopes too high. What if it’s nothing?”

“But you felt them,” he said, his voice low, reverent. “Our baby.”

Kate’s eyes shimmered with tears as she nodded. “I think so, Anthony. I think I did.”

His arms came around her then, pulling her gently against him as he pressed his forehead to hers. They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other and the quiet joy of hope realized.

Finally, Anthony leaned back just enough to press a kiss to her brow. “You’ll rest, Kate. And I’ll make sure you have everything you need. Every meal, every blanket, every—”

Kate laughed softly, cupping his face in her hands. “Anthony, breathe.”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, leaning into her touch. “I’m just… I’m so happy, Kate. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

She smiled, tilting her head. “I can think of a few things.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed slightly before understanding flickered in his eyes, followed swiftly by intrigue. “Oh?”

Kate’s fingers traced along the line of his jaw, her touch featherlight. “Mmm.” She hummed thoughtfully, her gaze dropping to his lips. “First, you could kiss me.”

Anthony’s lips curled into a slow, knowing grin. “A sound suggestion,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers before capturing her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss.

When they pulled apart, Kate’s breath was slightly uneven, but her teasing smile remained. “And then,” she mused, running her hands down his chest, “I’m sure we could think of something else to keep you occupied.”

His answering groan was half-exasperation, half-adoration as he swept her into his arms and carried her toward the bed. “Yes, I’m sure we can.”

Kate laughed, tracing lazy circles on his chest as he carried her. “I do love when you listen to me.”

The grand dining room was alive with laughter and the warm glow of candlelight. Crystal glasses gleamed, and the scent of roasted meats and spiced vegetables filled the air. Kate and Anthony entered together, hand in hand, before they parted to take their respective seats at the long dining table.

Anthony adjusted his collar as he sank into his chair, trying—and failing—to mask the flush in his cheeks. Kate took her seat at the opposite end of the table beside Violet. She straightened her posture and smiled warmly at her mother-in-law, who was already grinning at her like she knew a secret.

Conversation ebbed and flowed as the family settled into their meal. Benedict was recounting some ridiculous tale about a disastrous art exhibit he’d attended earlier that week, Colin added dramatic flourishes, and Francesca giggled into her wine glass.

But Gregory—sharp-eyed, ever-inquisitive Gregory—was studying Kate with narrowed eyes. Finally, between bites of chicken and potatoes, he blurted out, “Why did Dr. Morton visit, Kate? Are you unwell?”

The entire table went quiet.

Anthony froze mid-sip, wine glass hovering halfway to his mouth. “Oh, nothing serious, Gregory!” he said a touch too loudly, his voice breaking slightly. “Just…sometimes…for ladies… there are…things…”

The room remained silent as Anthony’s voice trailed off into a painful cough. His face turned an impressive shade of crimson as he stared determinedly at his plate.

Gregory’s brow furrowed as he stared at his eldest brother. “Things? What sort of things, exactly? And why does a doctor need to look at them?”

Eloise choked on her water, hastily setting her glass down as Colin and Benedict dissolved into laughter, slapping the table.

“Gregory!” Violet said sharply, though her lips twitched at the corners. “That is not an appropriate question for dinner conversation.”

“But why—”

“Because, Gregory,” Violet continued, cutting him off with a pointed look, “some things are private matters between a husband, a wife, and their doctor. Now finish your dinner.”

Gregory let out a huff of indignation, shoving a forkful of carrots into his mouth while muttering something about adults being terribly mysterious. Laughter rippled softly around the table before fading back into the gentle hum of conversation.

Violet leaned toward Kate, her voice low enough to keep their conversation private.

“You seem… happy tonight,” Violet said softly, her eyes warm and knowing.

Kate’s cheeks flushed as she glanced down at her plate. “It’s been… a hopeful day.”

Violet’s hand briefly rested over Kate’s on the table, her smile bright and filled with understanding. “It’s magical, isn’t it? Savor this moment, my dear.”

From across the table, Anthony caught the exchange, his expression softening as he watched the two women he loved most share a quiet moment.

Chapter Text

The morning light spilled through the windows of Bridgerton House, casting warm golden patterns across the bedroom where Anthony sat across from his wife. Kate, glowing softly despite her constant fatigue, sipped her tea with a contented sigh.

Anthony, however, was frowning into his cup. His brows knitted tightly as he stirred his tea absentmindedly. “I don’t like leaving you today,” he said, breaking the silence.

Kate set down her teacup with a soft clink and arched an amused brow. “Anthony, you’re only going to Parliament. You’re not riding off to war.”

He huffed, leaning back in his chair with a scowl. “Yes, but I’m leaving you with… well, them.”

Kate blinked, then let out a bright peal of laughter. “Them! You mean your family? The ones I adore and who adore me in return?”

Anthony gestured vaguely toward the door, as if summoning the chaotic spirits of his siblings into the room. “You’ve seen them, Kate. They’re a menace when left unsupervised.”

Kate leaned forward, her chin resting delicately on her hand. “Anthony, I’m not afraid of your siblings. I quite like spending time with them, actually.”

Anthony sighed heavily, though his lips twitched in a smile. “Just… promise me you’ll rest, and that you’ll eat, and—”

“And I will not let Hyacinth talk me into climbing a tree,” Kate said solemnly, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

He smirked despite himself, rising from his chair and rounding the table to kiss the top of her head. “You’re impossible.” Anthony kissed her forehead next, lingering there. “I’ll return as soon as I can. Please—just take care of yourself, Kate.”

“I will,” she said softly, her smile fond as she watched him leave the room.

The Bridgerton drawing room was bustling with activity later that morning. Violet, Colin, Hyacinth, and Eloise were all gathered around the low tea table, along with Kate, who sat comfortably in one of the plush armchairs. The tea tray was overflowing with biscuits, small cakes, and delicate finger sandwiches.

Kate paused for a moment before she reached for a lemon biscuit. She took a hesitant bite, and then took an enthusiastic bite before her hand darted out for another.

As Kate reached for yet another biscuit, Eloise’s gaze flickered briefly toward her, something unreadable in her expression. She quickly smoothed her face into something neutral, lifting her book as if she hadn’t noticed anything at all.

Colin, lounging lazily on the settee, raised an eyebrow. “Careful there, Kate. At this rate, you’ll finish off the biscuits before Hyacinth has a chance to steal them and hide them in her pocket.”

“Hey!” Hyacinth exclaimed, her mouth half-full of cake.

Kate paused mid-bite, her cheeks flushing, and then slowly chewed and swallowed. “I don’t normally like lemon biscuits,” she admitted, her brow furrowing. “But today they’re… incredible.”

Colin smirked. “Well, I suppose every great love story begins somewhere. Yours just happens to involve biscuits.”

“Colin,” Violet said sharply, though her lips twitched in amusement. “Leave Kate be. And do try not to be such an insufferable pest.”

Colin grinned, utterly unapologetic, while Kate merely shook her head fondly, reaching for another biscuit.

The Bridgertons descended upon Hyde Park in a lively flurry of chatter, laughter, and sibling banter. The sky was a soft blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the air was warm but not oppressive.

Kate walked arm-in-arm with Violet as they strolled along one of the shaded paths. The rest of the family had scattered—Colin and Benedict teasing Hyacinth near the duck pond, Eloise engrossed in a book on a nearby bench.

But after some time, Kate’s steps began to slow. Her head felt light, her vision just slightly blurred at the edges. She paused near an oak tree, her hand coming up to rest against the bark as she exhaled carefully.

“Kate, dear, are you all right?” Violet’s voice was calm but edged with concern.

Kate nodded slowly, pressing her free hand to her forehead. “I just… feel a bit dizzy. Perhaps I should sit down for a moment.”

“Of course,” Violet said immediately, guiding her to a shaded patch of grass nearby. “Here, sit. Rest. I’ll fetch some water.”

Kate sank onto the grass, her head tipping back against the tree trunk as she closed her eyes briefly. Her heart was still beating a little too quickly, and the faint hum of voices in the park felt distant.

“Kate?”

Kate’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of Anthony’s voice, sharp with worry and breathless from his brisk pace across the park. His coat was still buttoned tightly, and his cravat had come loose, as though he’d hurried away from whatever business had detained him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly, her voice light but edged with faint surprise.

Anthony crouched in front of her immediately, his hands coming up to cup her face, his eyes scanning hers for any sign of distress. “Kate, are you all right? What happened? Why are you sitting here alone?”

“I’m fine, Anthony. I just felt a little dizzy, and—”

“Alone?” he interrupted, his tone rising slightly with concern as his gaze flicked sharply around the park.

“Anthony,” Kate said patiently, placing a hand over one of his. “I’m not alone. Violet is fetching me some water. She’ll be back any moment.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, though the sharp edge of his concern didn’t fade entirely. “Dizzy? How dizzy? Did you faint? Did you—”

“No, nothing like that,” Kate reassured him quickly, her hand slipping into his. “I just felt lightheaded for a moment. It’s passing already.”

Anthony exhaled slowly, his brow still furrowed as he knelt beside her. His thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand, and he was about to speak again when Violet reappeared, carrying a small glass bottle of water.

“Oh, Anthony,” Violet said, her expression both warm and lightly exasperated as she handed Kate the bottle. “I should have guessed you’d show up the moment something happened.”

Kate took a careful sip, the cool water refreshing her parched throat as Anthony watched her every movement like a hawk. “Nothing even happened,” she said, exasperated. “I sat down, that’s all.”

“I’m taking you home,” Anthony said firmly, ignoring her. He straightened and helped Kate to her feet. “Now.”

“Anthony—” Kate started, but he was already adjusting his grip to keep her steady as she rose.

“No arguments, Kate,” he said in that authoritative voice she’d come to recognize as The Viscount Bridgerton. “You’re coming home, and you’re going to rest.”

“Yes, of course,” Kate said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Violet stepped aside, her gaze flicking between the two of them with amusement. “We’ll see you at home. Take care of her.”

Anthony nodded curtly and guided Kate away from the shaded patch of grass and toward the park’s exit. His hand rested firmly on her lower back as they walked, and his brows were knitted together in a sharp line of concentration.

The walk back to Bridgerton House was short, but Anthony treated it as though they were crossing an endless desert. His hand never left Kate’s back, and every time her breath hitched slightly, his eyes darted to her face with barely concealed panic.

“Anthony,” Kate said, a faint laugh slipping from her lips despite the occasional breathlessness she felt. “You’re hovering.”

“I am not hovering,” Anthony replied, his voice sharp with indignation. “I am being attentive.”

Kate gave him a knowing smile as she paused for a moment, leaning briefly against a wrought iron fence while she caught her breath. “Attentive. Right.”

Anthony’s frown deepened, and he muttered under his breath, “It’s my family, isn’t it? They’re exhausting you. Hyacinth with her endless chatter, Colin with his teasing, Eloise stomping about and complaining—”

“It is not your family,” Kate said, cutting him off with a soft laugh. “Your siblings are delightful, Anthony. Truly.”

He opened his mouth to protest again, but she lifted her hand and placed it lightly on his chest.

“It’s not them,” she said softly, her smile fond and teasing. “It’s your child that’s exhausting me.”

Anthony froze, his lips parting slightly as he stared down at her. His hand on her waist tightened slightly, and his other hand came up to brush a strand of hair back from her face.

“My child?” he said softly, as though tasting the words for the first time.

“Yes, your child,” Kate said with a gentle nod. “Growing inside me. Stealing all my energy. Making me ravenous for biscuits I don’t normally even like. And, apparently, making me dizzy when I spend too much time walking about in the sun.”

Anthony’s face softened, his expression awash with something Kate could only describe as awe. His eyes glimmered faintly, and his voice was low when he spoke again.

“Kate… I wish I could do something. Anything to make it easier for you.”

“I’m fine, Anthony. Truly. And you’re already doing so much,” Kate said softly, her hand still resting over his heart. “You’re here. You’re taking care of me. You don’t have to fix everything.”

His mouth twitched slightly at her words, his brows furrowing. “I still want to try.”

When they reached Bridgerton House, Anthony swept Kate inside and straight to the drawing room, where he deposited her gently onto the chaise lounge.

“Stay there,” he said firmly, pointing one finger at her. “Do not move.”

Kate raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but said nothing as he disappeared through the double doors.

A few minutes later, Anthony returned, carrying a massive silver tray piled with sandwiches, fresh fruit, slices of cake, small pastries, and an entire pitcher of lemonade.

Kate’s eyes widened as he set the tray down on the table before her. “Anthony, what is this?”

“You said you’ve been hungry,” he said matter-of-factly, pulling a footstool close and sitting down across from her. “So, I’ve brought food. Eat, Kate.”

Kate pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “This could feed the entire household, Anthony!”

He shrugged, utterly unapologetic. “Then you won’t run out of options. Kate, please. You were unable to keep food down for so long. Please, eat.”

Shaking her head but smiling brightly, Kate reached for a small sandwich and took a bite. Anthony watched her with satisfaction, his body relaxing slightly with every bite she took.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said between bites of fruit.

Anthony smirked. “Is it ridiculous to want my wife fed?”

Kate grinned, her chest filling with warmth as she looked at her husband—her fussing, overprotective, utterly devoted husband.

She reached out her hand, and Anthony took it without hesitation, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Anthony’s smile softened as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Always, Kate. Always.”

Chapter Text

The ballroom shimmered with candlelight, the music floating effortlessly over the buzz of conversation. Kate, glowing in a green gown that just barely hid her delicate condition, stood beside Anthony near the refreshment table. Her hand rested lightly on his arm as she sipped her lemonade, the soft press of her fingers grounding him in his usual calm—until he appeared.

“Lady Bridgerton,” came a warm, familiar voice. Kate turned to see Mr. Thomas Dorset bowing politely, his expression lit with genuine delight. “It’s been too long. My congratulations on your marriage.”

Kate smiled, her eyes bright with recognition. “Mr. Dorset! How wonderful to see you again. Thank you for the kind wishes.”

Dorset’s gaze shifted to Anthony, his smile still polite but just a touch knowing. “Viscount,” he greeted.

Anthony inclined his head stiffly. “Dorset.”

But Dorset’s focus quickly returned to Kate. “Lady Bridgerton, I wondered if I might have the honor of a dance.”

Before Anthony could utter a word of protest, Kate’s face lit up. “Oh, I’d be delighted.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched, but Kate was already handing her glass to him, her excitement unrestrained as Dorset led her to the dance floor.

Anthony’s gaze followed them like a hawk, his hands tightening around her glass. He watched as Dorset spun Kate into the waltz, her laughter ringing out as they moved gracefully through the
steps. She tilted her head, her smile growing wider at something Dorset said, and Anthony could feel his blood simmering.

“Good God, Anthony, relax,” came Colin’s voice, his brother appearing at his side with a drink in hand. “If you glower any harder, Dorset might drop dead on the spot.”

Anthony didn’t look away, his eyes darkening as Dorset twirled Kate, her skirts flaring. “He’s insufferable.”

Colin smirked. “He’s insufferable because Kate danced with him, or because she’s enjoying herself?” He clapped Anthony on the shoulder. “Brother, she’s your wife. Need I remind you?”

Anthony growled under his breath, ignoring Colin’s laughter as Kate returned to his side, flushed and beaming.

“Oh, that was lovely,” she said, fanning herself as she reached for her lemonade. “Thomas is heading to India again. He says he’ll write to me from there.”

Anthony froze mid-sip. “Thomas? He asked you to call him by his first name?”

Kate blinked at him, her smile faltering slightly. “Well… yes. We’re friends.”

“Friends?” Anthony’s mouth tightened. “The man barely has a conversation with you, and now he thinks he can write you letters?”

Kate barked a laugh, glancing at Colin in disbelief. Colin, knowing better, raised his hands in mock surrender and took his leave, clearly wanting no part in what was coming next.

“Anthony,” she said. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” he snapped. “I’m just…you shouldn’t be dancing so much. You hardly have the energy to stand, and he thinks he can just…just sweep you off your feet like that?”

Kate tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Anthony, you’re being ridiculous,” she teased, leaning a little closer. “It was one dance, and I’m perfectly fine. I could probably muster up the energy for another dance if you wanted.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Anthony scowled. “We shouldn’t even be here tonight. You’re exhausted.”

“Am I?” She laughed, loud enough to draw a few curious glances. “Anthony, I told you—I feel well today. Why can’t you just enjoy the evening with me?”

“Well, I’d have to be with you to do that,” he muttered darkly, shooting a glare at Dorset, who was now chatting with a young debutante across the room.

Kate giggled, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. “Oh, you’re impossible. You know you’re the only man I’ll ever want, don’t you?”

His frown deepened, but she leaned in, her voice softening into a playful whisper. “If you need further proof, I’d be more than happy to provide it. There’s bound to be an alcove somewhere.”

Anthony’s scowl vanished, replaced by surprise, then something sharper. “Come with me,” he said, grabbing her hand before she could respond.

Kate gasped, laughing as he began pulling her toward the hallway. “Anthony! People will notice!”

He glanced back, his grip firm on her hand. “Not if you keep quiet.”

Her laughter bubbled up again, bright and delighted. “You’re terrible.”

“Quiet,” he hissed, though his lips twitched as he fought a smile.

Kate’s laugh echoed softly as they slipped away, and Anthony, despite his earlier jealousy and frustration, couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and love. She was his, and there wasn’t a man in the world who could change that.

Chapter Text

The soft light of late morning filtered through the heavy curtains, casting muted golden patterns across the grand bed where Anthony and Kate lounged. The faint sound of the city outside felt distant, muffled by the thick walls of Bridgerton House.

Kate lay propped against a mountain of pillows, her silk dressing gown loose around her shoulders and her hair tumbling in disarray from her earlier attempt to pin it up. Her cheeks were pale, and dark crescent moons hung heavy under her eyes. One hand rested on her abdomen as if in quiet reassurance, while the other clutched a half-eaten piece of toast that she clearly had no intention of finishing.

Anthony, on the other hand, sat cross-legged beside her, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his waistcoat discarded. He had been fussing over her for the better part of the morning—adjusting her pillows, bringing her food, and now holding out a delicate porcelain cup filled with what he had insisted was a combination of chai and herbal tea brewed specially for her condition.

“Kate,” Anthony said softly, nudging the teacup closer to her lips. “You haven’t taken more than two sips.”

Kate let out a soft groan and turned her head away, her face scrunching up in protest. “Anthony, if I drink another drop of that tea, I might actually weep. Or possibly throw it at you.”

Anthony sighed dramatically, setting the cup back down on the tray beside him. “You’re being very stubborn, you know.”

Kate arched a brow, her lips twitching faintly despite her discomfort. “I learned from the best.”

Anthony smirked but didn’t deny it. Instead, he shifted closer, propping himself on one elbow as he studied her face with a gaze so tender it made her chest tighten.

“You’re pale, Kate,” he said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Are you sure you’re comfortable? Should I send for the doctor again?”

Kate groaned, covering her face with one hand. “If you call for the doctor one more time, I swear I'll ban you from the room.”

Anthony’s lips twitched, but his brow remained furrowed. “You’ve barely slept in days, love. You’re dizzy. You—”

“I’m pregnant, Anthony,” Kate interrupted, lowering her hand and fixing him with a pointed look. “Not dying. Though you do seem determined to convince me otherwise.”

Anthony’s expression softened immediately, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheekbone. “I know, Kate. I know. But you’re… you’re everything to me. And now there’s—there’s two of you to worry about. And I can’t…”

He trailed off, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked away.

Kate’s irritation melted away instantly, replaced by a swell of affection and something softer—something achingly tender. She reached out, curling her fingers around his wrist and guiding his hand to rest gently over her abdomen.

“Anthony,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in it. “I’m alright. And this…” She pressed his hand more firmly against her stomach. “This little one is alright too. You’re doing more than enough. More than anyone could ever ask for.”

Anthony exhaled slowly, his forehead dropping to rest lightly against hers. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being… unbearable.”

She let out a faint laugh, the sound warm despite her fatigue. “You’re being you, Anthony. Which is to say, insufferable and overbearing and utterly, endlessly loving.”

He smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaning back against the pillows beside her.

For a moment, they simply lay there, side by side, their hands still joined over Kate’s abdomen. The silence between them was soft, wrapped in the gentle cocoon of morning light and the faint scent of lavender lingering on the linens.

Eventually, Anthony spoke again, his voice quieter now. “I hate seeing you like this. Tired and sick. I feel so… helpless.”

Kate turned her head to look at him, her smile gentle. “You’re not helpless, Anthony. You’re here. You’re with me. You hold me when I can’t sleep. You bring me tea and toast and fuss over me until I nearly lose my mind. That’s not helplessness. That’s love.”

Anthony let out a soft breath, his thumb brushing idly across the back of her hand. “And you love me still, despite all of this fussing?”

Kate grinned, though it was softened by exhaustion. “Anthony, I’ll love you even if you insist on feeding me this awful tea every hour for the next few months.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and then pulled her closer until her head rested against his chest. His arms wrapped around her securely, and Kate let herself relax into him, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Let’s just stay here today,” Anthony murmured into her hair. “No meetings, no ledgers, no obligations. Just us. We’ll rest, and you’ll eat something that isn’t tea or toast, and we’ll spend the day in bed like thoroughly irresponsible people.”

Kate smiled faintly, already half-asleep against his chest. “That sounds absolutely wonderful.”

The fire crackled softly in the grate, and the light filtering through the curtains shifted slightly as clouds drifted across the sky. Outside their door, the world carried on—servants bustling, letters being delivered, society preparing for another busy evening—but inside their sanctuary, time seemed to pause.

Kate drifted into sleep first, her breath evening out against Anthony’s chest. He stayed awake a little longer, his gaze fixed on her peaceful face as his hand rested protectively over her stomach.

“I love you, Kate,” he murmured softly. “Both of you.”

And then, finally, Anthony let himself close his eyes, and husband and wife—soon to be parents—slept wrapped in each other, the rest of the world kept at bay for just a little while longer.

Chapter Text

The grand chandelier in the Bridgerton ballroom sparkled like captured starlight, its brilliance mirrored by the guests who swirled beneath it in a sea of silks and velvets. Laughter and music floated on the air, blending seamlessly with the hum of conversation and the rhythmic tapping of polished shoes on the marble floor. It was the final Bridgerton ball of the season, and as far as anyone in attendance could tell, the Viscount and Viscountess had outdone themselves.

Kate stood near the dais, her intricately embroidered garnet gown glinting in the candlelight. Despite the fatigue weighing heavy in her limbs and the quiet thrum of nausea that hadn’t left her side in weeks, she moved through the crowd with effortless grace. Her smile was warm, her laughter genuine, and her every movement poised with the elegance expected of a viscountess.

“Lady Bridgerton, your ball is magnificent!” a guest gushed, her feathered fascinator bobbing precariously as she spoke. “The arrangements are divine, and the music… oh, you must tell me where you found the orchestra.”

Kate inclined her head graciously. “Your kind words mean so much, Lady Worthington. I will be certain to pass them along to my husband. He had a hand in securing the musicians this evening.”

Lady Worthington laughed, entirely charmed, and moved on to find her next captive audience. Kate allowed herself a brief moment to exhale, one hand brushing against her abdomen as she scanned the room. She didn’t have to look far.

Across the room, leaning lazily against the mantel with a glass of wine in hand, Anthony watched his wife with unabashed adoration. She moved like a queen among her subjects, handling every conversation, every polite inquiry, every subtle scrutiny with effortless grace. He had never been prouder.

“You’re staring,” Benedict remarked beside him, his tone amused as he swirled the amber liquid in his own glass.

Anthony didn’t bother looking away. “And?”

“If you watch her any longer, you may combust.”

Anthony smirked but did not refute the claim. “If a man cannot stare at his wife in admiration, what good is marriage?”

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. “Hopeless.”

As the orchestra struck up the first notes of a waltz, Anthony set his glass down and strode toward Kate with purpose. She caught sight of him just as he reached her, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

“Dance with me?” he asked, offering his hand.

Kate hesitated for the briefest moment—her body was aching, her stomach unsettled—but the warmth in his eyes was irresistible. “You need not ask,” she said, slipping her hand into his.

He led her onto the floor, drawing her close as they fell into step with practiced ease. The music curled around them, the scent of candle wax and roses heavy in the air. The rest of the world faded away as Anthony guided her effortlessly through the turns, his grip firm yet careful, his touch as familiar as breathing.

“You are breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice a low caress.

Kate rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed at his words. “I am exhausted.”

“And yet, you are still the most radiant woman in the room,” he countered, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.

She sighed, her expression softening as she rested her hand against his shoulder. “You flatter me.”

“I only speak the truth,” he said, his gaze dropping briefly to the swell of her abdomen, hidden beneath the folds of her gown. “You should rest, Kate. Let me take you upstairs.”

She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “We cannot leave our own ball early, Anthony.”

He exhaled in exasperation. “Who would dare stop us?”

“The ton would never let us live it down.”

“The ton can be damned,” he muttered, leaning in closer. “You are unwell, and I do not care one bit for their opinion.”

Kate squeezed his hand, touched by his concern, but she would not yield. “I am fine, my love. Truly.”

Anthony studied her for a long moment, his jaw tightening as though waging an internal battle. But then Kate’s smile widened, her dimples appearing, and his resolve crumbled entirely.

As the waltz slowed to its final notes, he pulled her just a fraction closer, his lips briefly brushing against her cheek. “I love you,” he murmured softly, for her ears alone. “I cannot believe you are mine.”

Kate’s lips twitched in a quiet, knowing smile. “Believe it, my love. You are well and truly stuck with me.”

His grin was boyish, utterly besotted. “Gladly.”

As the evening swirled around them in candlelight and laughter, no one noticed the solitary figure standing near the grand doors, tucked just beyond the edge of the revelry. Eloise watched in silence. Kate was glowing, radiant in the love of her husband, adored by her new family, effortlessly stepping into a life Eloise could not understand.

She turned abruptly, slipping through the ballroom doors and retreating into the cool, quiet corridors beyond. Her steps quickened as she climbed the grand staircase, the soft murmur of the ball fading with every step.

By the time she reached her room, Eloise felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Her fingers curled, nails pressing into her palms as she stared at the ceiling. She pressed her back against the closed door, her chest heaving as she stared at the ceiling, willing herself to stay composed.

But the ache in her chest wouldn’t subside.

Chapter Text

The night was deep and still, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the mantle and the soft rustle of curtains stirred by a gentle breeze. Moonlight spilled across the bed, casting pale silver light over the tangled sheets and the figures nestled within them.

Kate lay on her side, her eyes wide open as she stared into the shadows of their bedroom. Her hand rested gently against the curve of her belly, her fingers splayed over the soft fabric of her nightgown.

Please, she thought silently, pressing her palm a little more firmly. Please let me feel you.

It had been two weeks since she’d felt the faint flutter, the little spark of movement that had made her heart race with excitement and relief. And since then—nothing. Just silence, stillness, and a growing ache in her chest that she couldn’t quiet, no matter how many logical reassurances she repeated to herself.

The doctor had said everything looked fine, that she was growing as she should be, but the silence had become a weight pressing down on her chest every hour of every day.

She swallowed hard, trying to push down the tears that threatened to spill over. Her hand lingered against her belly for a moment longer before she let it fall away, curling into the sheets instead.

Beside her, Anthony stirred, letting out a soft breath as he turned onto his side. His hand reached out instinctively, finding her hip beneath the covers, his thumb brushing gently against the thin fabric of her nightgown.

“Kate?” His voice was low and rough with sleep, but there was already concern etched into the single syllable of her name.

She froze for a moment, caught between the weight of her fears and the safety of his presence.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, propping himself up on one elbow and peering at her through the faint moonlight. “What’s wrong?”

Kate forced herself to smile, though she knew he’d see right through it. “Nothing, Anthony. Go back to sleep.”

His brow furrowed, and he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me.”

His voice was so soft, so full of love and concern, that she felt her chest tighten painfully.

“I just…” she began, her voice trembling before she stopped herself. I can’t tell him. I can’t say the words out loud. Instead, she reached out and cupped his face, her thumb brushing against the sharp edge of his jaw. “Can we not talk right now, Anthony? Please?”

There was a flicker of confusion in his eyes, followed by something softer—something knowing. He didn’t press her, didn’t push for answers she wasn’t ready to give.

“Alright,” he said softly, leaning into her touch.

Kate shifted closer, closing the distance between them. She pressed her lips to his, gentle at first, but with an urgency she couldn’t quite name.

Anthony responded immediately, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head, his thumb stroking lightly over her cheekbone. His kiss was soft, tender, and when she pulled him closer, he followed without hesitation.

The tension in her chest eased slightly as his warmth surrounded her, his touch grounding her in a way nothing else could. She poured herself into the kiss, into the slow press of his body against hers, into the way his hands moved over her with such reverence, such care.

Anthony didn’t rush, didn’t push. He was gentle, so achingly gentle, as if he knew she was holding something fragile inside her and was afraid of breaking it.

When they finally came together, it was slow and unhurried, whispered words and quiet gasps filling the space between them. His hands mapped every inch of her skin, lingering over her belly with a tenderness that made her throat tighten.

She clung to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck as tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

When it was over, Anthony stayed close, his arms wrapped securely around her as they lay tangled in the sheets. His fingers traced idle patterns along her back, his lips brushing against her temple as if he could soothe her fears without even knowing what they were.

Kate pressed her face against his chest, breathing him in, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm her. But Anthony wasn’t a fool. He could feel the way she trembled slightly against him, the way her breathing hitched every so often.

“Kate,” he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet stillness of the night. “You don’t have to tell me now. But whatever it is, whatever’s weighing on you—I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Kate let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I know,” she whispered.

And she did. She knew Anthony would be there, steadfast and unyielding, no matter what came their way. But in this moment, she couldn’t bear to voice her fears aloud. So instead, she closed her eyes and let herself sink into the warmth of his embrace, letting his steady presence shield her from the heavy silence inside her.

Chapter Text

The early summer light streamed through the large windows of Kate’s study, casting golden warmth across the polished mahogany desk and the stacks of letters scattered across it. Outside, the faint chirping of birds mixed with the rustling of leaves in the soft breeze. A vase of fresh flowers sat in the corner, their delicate fragrance filling the quiet space.

Mary handed Kate a neatly wrapped package and smiled warmly. “I wanted to give this to you when we had a quiet moment,” she said.

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Kate said with a soft smile, though her brow creased slightly with curiosity.

“Nonsense, darling. Every baby deserves a proper welcome.”

Kate carefully untied the ribbon and unfolded the soft paper, revealing a cream-colored blanket embroidered with intricate vines and delicate blossoms. The stitching was exquisite, clearly done with love and care, and the initial B had been added in one corner.

Kate’s breath caught as she reached out to touch the fabric. “Mary, this is… it’s beautiful.”

Mary smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I started it the moment we returned from Berlin.”

Kate’s head snapped up. Her fingers stilled over the embroidery. “That was before—”

Mary’s smile widened. “Yes, I had my suspicions while we traveled together.” She leaned forward, her voice full of warm amusement. “A mother always knows.”

Kate let out a small laugh, shaking her head, her heart swelling with affection. She ran her fingers over the delicate embroidery again, her smile softening. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Mary’s teasing expression gentled. “I thought it might be something you’d want to wrap the baby in when they arrive. A little piece of love to carry with them.”

Kate pressed the blanket to her chest, blinking rapidly as her throat tightened. “It means the world to me.”

Mary let the emotion settle for a moment before reaching for Kate’s hand. “And how are you feeling, my dear? Truly?”

Kate let out a breath, her gaze dropping briefly to the blanket in her lap before meeting Mary’s eyes. “The doctor says everything looks perfect. I’m growing, the baby is growing… everything is progressing as it should.”

Mary studied her stepdaughter carefully, her head tilting slightly. “But something is troubling you.”

Kate hesitated, her fingers smoothing the soft fabric of the blanket. “It’s just… it’s nothing, really. I’m probably overthinking.”

“Darling,” Mary said gently, reaching out to lay her hand over Kate’s. “You’ve never been one to fret without reason. Tell me.”

Kate took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. “I felt… something. A flutter, about two weeks ago. Just once. And then… nothing. I keep waiting for it to happen again, but it hasn’t.”

Mary’s expression softened, and her fingers gave Kate’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“The doctor says everything looks fine,” Kate continued hurriedly, as if trying to chase away her fears with logic. “That I’m healthy, that the baby is healthy. But… I can’t stop worrying. Shouldn’t I have felt something again by now?”

“Oh, Kate.” Mary’s voice was soft, steady, carrying a weight of both love and understanding. “When I was carrying Edwina, she was constantly moving. Night and day, it felt like she was performing some sort of dance recital in there. I hardly slept for weeks.”

Kate let out a soft, watery laugh, but her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“But then there was a period where she didn’t move at all…” Mary hesitated for just a moment, her voice thickening with emotion. “She was calm, still. Days would go by without me feeling anything at all. And I worried—oh, how I worried. But then, just when I couldn’t bear it anymore, there she was again.”

Kate closed her eyes briefly, clutching the blanket tighter. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. “What if something’s wrong, Mary? What if… what if I’m just waiting for something that isn’t coming?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Mary stood and crossed the small space between them, sinking to her knees in front of Kate and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “There’s no shame in being afraid. But listen to me—you are doing everything you can. You’re caring for yourself, you’re listening to the doctor, and you’re already loving this baby with your whole heart. That’s all you can do, and it’s enough.”

Kate let out a soft sob, burying her face against Mary’s shoulder as her tears finally spilled over. Mary held her tightly, her hand stroking Kate’s back in slow, soothing circles.

For a few long minutes, the only sounds in the room were Kate’s quiet cries and Mary’s gentle reassurances whispered into her hair.

When Kate finally pulled back, she sniffled and wiped at her eyes, her lips curving into a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Mary said firmly, cupping Kate’s face in her hands. “You’ve been carrying this fear alone, haven’t you?”

Kate nodded, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to worry Anthony. He already fusses so much.”

Mary smiled softly. “That’s because he loves you. And he’d want to know how you’re feeling, Kate. You don’t have to bear this on your own.”

Kate exhaled shakily, her shoulders slumping slightly as if a weight had been lifted. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

Mary leaned back, brushing a strand of hair from Kate’s face. “Trust your body, my love. Trust that your little one is there, safe and growing. And when the time comes, you’ll feel them again.”

Kate nodded, pressing the embroidered blanket to her chest once more. “Thank you, Mary. For… for this, for listening, for everything.”

Mary stood and bent to press a gentle kiss to Kate’s forehead. “Always, my dear. Always.”

As Mary returned to her chair, Kate sat quietly for a moment, clutching the blanket in her lap. The air between them felt lighter now, and though her fears hadn’t entirely disappeared, they no longer felt so heavy.

They sat together in comfortable silence, the golden light of afternoon streaming through the window and casting warm shadows across the room. And for a brief moment, Kate allowed herself to believe that everything would be alright.

That night, Kate stood alone by the window, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks. One hand clutched her growing belly, her fingers pressing gently against her skin as though she might feel the life within if she just focused hard enough. But all she felt was the haunting, unyielding silence of the past few weeks.

The soft creak of the door behind her made her start, and she quickly wiped her face, hoping to mask her tears. But it was too late.

“Kate?” Anthony’s voice was low, his brow furrowed as he stepped closer. “Are you… have you been crying?”

She tried to manage a smile, but her face betrayed her, crumpling under his gaze. “I don’t know, Anthony. I’m just so… scared.” Her voice broke, and she looked away, ashamed to say it out loud.

“It’s been so long since I felt anything. I thought I’d be feeling them by now. What if…” She trailed off, swallowing hard. “What if something’s wrong?”

Anthony came to stand in front of her, his hands gently resting on her arms. “Kate, no, you’ve heard the doctor—he’s assured us this is normal. And you’re still growing; everything looks as it should.” His words were calm, steady, but she caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

Kate let out a shaky breath. “I try to believe that. I do. But every day it feels like the hope slips a little more…” Her voice faded, fresh tears filling her eyes.

At her words, Anthony’s face softened, and a visible tremor ran through him. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her close, his heartbeat rapid and fierce against her cheek.

“Kate,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back just enough for her to see his face, and she was startled by the wetness in his own eyes. “The truth is… I’m afraid too. More than I want to admit.”

His voice faltered, and Kate reached up, cupping his face. Her thumb brushed over his cheek as they both let down the guard they’d held so tightly. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, and they stayed that way, breathing together, the silence filled only by their shared, unspoken fears.

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers with a tenderness that took her breath away. Their kiss deepened, each touch a quiet vow. He moved his hands to her waist, his fingers warm and gentle as he lifted her, carrying her toward the bed.

As he laid her down, his hands slid over her curves, his touch slow and achingly tender, his gaze filled with adoration and quiet desperation. Their lovemaking was soft, unhurried, grounding each other in the reality of this moment, of each other. They whispered their fears and hopes in the dim light, holding each other as if their closeness could shield them from any darkness that might come.

Chapter Text

The ballroom glittered with the golden glow of countless chandeliers, their light reflecting off swirling silks and shimmering jewels. The music was bright and fast-paced, violins and pianofortes weaving an elegant backdrop to laughter and conversation.

Kate moved gracefully through the crowd, her hand resting lightly on Anthony’s arm as they exchanged pleasantries with the other guests. Her smile was polished, her laughter timed perfectly, but beneath the silken fabric of her gown, her stomach was tight with unease.

She still hadn’t felt anything, and the silence in her body pressed heavy on her chest. But tonight wasn’t the time to dwell on it. She had told herself repeatedly: Just get through the evening. Smile. Pretend.

Anthony’s arm was steady beneath her hand, but there was a faint edge to the way he held her close, his thumb brushing absently over her knuckles. His protectiveness was palpable—each glance he stole at her lingered a little too long, every smile he gave someone else seemed a little too sharp.

He was holding himself together, as she was, both of them wrapped tight with tension beneath their polished exteriors.

Kate let her gaze drift across the ballroom, settling on Eloise by the refreshment table, arms crossed over her chest, wearing an expression that could curdle milk.

It was a look Kate knew well—the look of someone ready to escape. And for a fleeting moment, Kate wished she could do the same.

And then, the moment came. A young gentleman, well-dressed and visibly nervous, approached Violet. After a quick exchange, Violet gestured toward Eloise with a meaningful glance.

Eloise froze.

Kate caught the sharp inhale of breath from the younger woman even across the room. Violet said something firm but kind, and Eloise—with an expression that suggested she might actually combust—curtsied to her mother before taking the young man’s hand and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.

Anthony let out a low chuckle. “She looks as though she’s being marched to the gallows.”

Kate sighed softly. “Your sister has her reasons.”

When the dance ended, Eloise curtsied perfunctorily, muttered something to her unfortunate partner, and stormed off the floor. Her retreat was swift and unrelenting as she pushed through the double doors leading to the garden.

“I’ll go,” Kate said quietly, slipping her hand from Anthony’s arm before he could stop her.

The garden was cloaked in shadows, broken only by scattered lanterns casting soft pools of golden light on gravel paths. The faint strains of the orchestra floated out into the night, but the chill in the air made the music feel distant, fragile.

Kate found Eloise pacing near a stone bench, her gown sweeping the gravel with each sharp turn. Her shoulders were rigid, her hands clenched at her sides.

“Eloise?” Kate called gently.

Eloise paused mid-step, then let out a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, Kate. I’m not about to throw myself into the ornamental pond. Not over a dance.”

Kate approached cautiously, her expression soft. “You don’t have to pretend, Eloise. It’s alright to be upset.”

Eloise sighed and sank onto the stone bench, her arms folding tightly across her chest. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? One dance. One perfectly polite, utterly uninteresting dance, and here I am—fuming in the dark like some tragic heroine from a dreadful novel.”

Kate sat beside her, leaving a bit of space between them. “It’s not ridiculous if it’s how you feel.”

Eloise let out another short laugh, this one less brittle. “Do you know what made it worse? It wasn’t the dance itself—it was the fact that there was no one to roll their eyes with me about it. No one to laugh about how frightfully earnest he was or how his boots squeaked every third step.”

Kate’s smile faltered slightly, her brow creasing with concern. “Penelope,” she said softly.

Eloise’s shoulders stiffened at the name, and her face turned away, angled toward the shadowed hedges.

The entire Bridgerton family had been walking on eggshells around the subject for months. Despite everyone’s attempts to understand, Eloise had been unwilling to talk about it.

Kate hesitated, then spoke gently. “You still have me, you know. I’m here to roll my eyes and make fun of eager young men with you.”

Eloise turned back to face her, her mouth twisting into something that might have been a smile if it wasn’t so sad. “Not really, though, Kate. You’re always with him.”

Kate blinked. “What do you mean?”

Eloise gestured vaguely toward the ballroom. “Anthony. He’s always whisking you onto the dance floor or stealing you away to some quiet corner. You’re always… together.”

Kate’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “That’s one of the perks of finding love, Eloise.”

Eloise flinched as if she’d been struck, her brows knitting together sharply.

“Oh, is that it?” she said, her voice trembling with sudden anger. “Love solves everything, does it? Love means you’ll never be lonely again?”

Kate’s smile faded. “Eloise, I didn’t mean—”

“You were supposed to be like me, you know,” Eloise’s voice cracked, and tears filled her eyes, glistening in the lantern light. “You were supposed to be content on your own. Independent. You promised me, Kate, that happiness wasn’t dependent on marriage, on men, on… on love. And then you went and married my brother!”

The air went still.

Kate’s heart hammered in her chest as she processed Eloise’s words. Her throat felt tight, her breath catching painfully as if she’d been struck. You were supposed to be like me. The words echoed in her chest, sharp and unforgiving.

“I—” Kate started, but no words came. She could only stare at Eloise, her vision blurring slightly.

Eloise’s face crumpled, and she turned away sharply, her shoulders shaking. “I looked up to you,” she said softly, her voice breaking on the last word.

The pain in Kate’s chest deepened, raw and twisting. She had loved Eloise fiercely from the start—had seen so much of herself in the younger woman, her sharp mind, her stubborn independence. They had found a quiet camaraderie, a mutual understanding that Kate had treasured deeply. And now, hearing those words—hearing Eloise pull away, seeing the sharp edges of resentment and loneliness behind her tears—it felt like something fragile between them had cracked.

Kate took another step forward, her voice trembling. “Eloise… I was happy before. I wasn’t lying when I said that. But love—Anthony—it found me anyway. I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t seek it.”

Eloise’s shoulders stiffened. “But you found it. And I can’t seem to find anything but loss.”

There it was. A sliver of truth, raw and jagged, buried beneath Eloise’s anger.

Kate’s chest ached as she realized how deeply Eloise was hurting—how her anger at Kate wasn’t about Kate at all. But her words stung all the same.

Before Kate could speak, Eloise turned back around, her face streaked with tears. “Just… go back inside, Kate. Go back to your husband and your perfect life. I’ll—” Her voice faltered, and she pressed her lips together. “I’ll be fine.”

Kate opened her mouth, but Eloise had already turned and walked briskly down one of the garden paths, disappearing into the shadows.

Kate returned to the ballroom in a daze. The music felt grating now, the light too bright, the laughter too sharp.

Anthony was waiting for her near the entrance, his brows drawn together in concern the moment he saw her face.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low.

Kate shook her head, unable to form the words. “Anthony… can we go home? Please?”

He nodded immediately, gesturing for a footman to prepare their carriage. “We’ll leave now.”

The carriage was silent as it rattled over the cobblestone streets of London. Anthony sat beside Kate, his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders as she pressed her face against his chest. She had been silent for the first few minutes, but then the tears had come—hot, silent tears that soaked into the fabric of Anthony’s coat.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask questions or offer platitudes. He simply held her, his hand stroking slowly over her hair, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head.

It was late when Kate finally stopped crying.

The relief should have settled over him like a balm, but it didn’t. Instead, Anthony sat stiffly against the headboard, his arm curled around her as she drifted into sleep, unaware that his thoughts had begun to twist and tangle into something dark and untenable.

She had wept into his chest for what felt like an eternity, shuddering and breathless, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to put her sorrow into words. She had been carrying too much for too long. She was exhausted. It was the kind of exhaustion that settled deep in the bones, that made the smallest things feel insurmountable.

His hand tightened over her shoulder, and she stirred faintly, murmuring something unintelligible. He forced himself to ease his grip, pressing his lips against the crown of her head, but the knot in his chest only cinched tighter. His mind was reeling with what Kate had left unspoken.

He knew this wasn’t just about Eloise. The baby. The strain of the past weeks. The weight of everything she refused to share with him. But it was Eloise who had pushed her over the edge tonight. And Kate, for some unfathomable reason, was protecting her.

What could Eloise have possibly said to her?

Kate wouldn’t keep it from him unless it was terrible. If it were something simple—something petty or foolish—she would have rolled her eyes and dismissed it. But she hadn’t. She had cried, had crumbled under the weight of it, and no matter how he’d pressed, she wouldn’t tell him. That had to mean it was bad. Unforgivable.

His jaw locked. His mind was already running away from him, but he had no way to stop it. A creeping, clawing fear took root in his chest, clawing at the edges of rational thought.

Maybe she told Kate she doesn’t belong here. That she will never truly be a Bridgerton.

Maybe she told her she should return to India. That she never should have stayed here with me.

Maybe she said I don’t love her.

The thought slammed into him with such force that he barely kept himself from shaking Kate awake. His pulse thundered in his ears, his breath coming sharp and uneven as he stared down at her sleeping form.

God—what if that’s it?

What if Eloise had told Kate that he had only married her out of duty? That he had never truly wanted her? What if, even now, that thought was burrowing into her mind, carving out a space where doubt had never been before? What if she hadn’t told him what was said because she feared that if she did, he would lie?

What if she thought it was true?

He suddenly couldn’t breathe.

The walls of the bedroom felt too close, the weight of Kate in his arms both grounding and unbearable. He needed to move. Needed air. Needed something to break this feeling before it shattered him entirely.

Carefully, he eased his arm out from under her, slipping from the bed as quietly as he could. Kate murmured at the loss of warmth but didn’t wake, her breathing slow and steady.

For a long moment, he only stood there, staring at her in the dim candlelight.

Then, without another thought, he turned and strode out of the room.

Eloise would answer for this.

Whatever she had said—whatever cruel, unspeakable thing had made Kate weep in his arms—he would drag it from her himself. And God help her if it was what he feared.

Anthony’s bare feet moved silently over the polished wood floors as he approached her door. He knocked once, sharply, before opening the door without waiting for an answer. Anthony stepped inside, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light of the hallway. He closed the door behind him with a sharp click and turned to face her, his face set in hard lines and his eyes dark with fury.
Eloise froze where she sat on the edge of her bed, her book forgotten in her lap.

“Anthony,” she said. “What are you doing here?” She swallowed, her stomach twisting. She already knew what this was about. She’d known the moment she saw Kate slip away from the ballroom earlier that evening, her shoulders tense, her face pale. She’d known again when Anthony helped Kate into the carriage, his expression tight with worry, his arm wrapped protectively around her.

Anthony advanced a step into the room, his voice low and biting. “You know what I’m doing here. What did you say to her?”

Eloise blinked. “What?”

“To Kate,” Anthony growled, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. “I want to know what you said to my wife that made her cry herself to sleep tonight.”

Eloise flinched but quickly schooled her expression into something cold and unyielding. “That’s between Kate and me. It’s none of your business.”

Anthony’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “None of my—” He let out a sharp breath, one hand raking through his hair as he turned away for a moment before whirling back to face her. “Kate wouldn’t tell me, Eloise. She said it’s not your fault. She wouldn’t tell me because she’s protecting you. And my mind is running wild with all the horrible things you might have said to her. So you will tell me.”

Eloise flinched at Anthony's words, her arms folding tightly across her chest as if she could physically shield herself from the sharp edge of his voice. The shadows cast by the faint light of the bedside lamp flickered across his face, making his expression seem even harder, even more unyielding.

“I don’t know why she’s upset,” Eloise said, her voice clipped and defensive. “I only said that she had a perfect life.”

Anthony’s head tilted slightly, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied her. For a moment, the only sound was the faint ticking of the clock on her nightstand. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously soft.

“You’re lying.”

Eloise’s chin lifted slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

Anthony took a step closer, his shoulders tense, his jaw tight. “You are lying, Eloise. And do you know how I know? Because if that’s all you’d said—if you had simply told her she had a perfect life—Kate would have brushed it off. She would have smiled at you and given you some gentle, infuriatingly kind reassurance. She wouldn’t have cried herself to sleep in my arms.”

Eloise turned her face away, staring hard at the curtains fluttering faintly in the night breeze.

“Look at me,” Anthony said, his voice sharp. When she didn’t, he took another step closer. “Look at me, Eloise.”

Reluctantly, her gaze flickered back to his, her chin trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady. Anthony’s jaw clenched so tightly that Eloise swore she could hear his teeth grinding.

“You are a coward,” he said finally, his voice low and trembling with barely checked rage. “A coward, Eloise, for hiding behind your pride instead of facing the consequences of your actions. You hurt her, and you won’t even have the decency to admit it.”

Eloise’s breath hitched, but she said nothing. She refused to look away from him, even as her stomach twisted with guilt and shame.

“I thought you cared about her,” Anthony continued, his voice breaking slightly around the edges. “I thought she mattered to you.”

“She does!” Eloise snapped, her voice sharp and trembling.

“Then act like it!” Anthony roared, his voice bouncing off the walls of the small room. “Because right now, all I see is someone who would rather dig their heels in and wallow in their own anger than admit they were wrong.”

Eloise’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her throat was tight, her pulse roaring in her ears.

Anthony let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “You have no idea how fragile she is right now. The burden she’s carrying. She needed kindness tonight, and instead, you gave her cruelty.”

Eloise’s face twisted, shame flashing across her features for just a moment before she shoved it down, masking it with sharp defiance. “Then go back to her, Anthony,” she said through gritted teeth. “If she’s so fragile, if she’s so breakable, then why are you here wasting time shouting at me? Go back to your wife and leave me alone.”

Anthony’s lips curled into something bitter, something cruel—something she had never seen on his face before. “Do you think this house belongs to you? It belongs to me. It belongs to Kate. And the only reason you, or Gregory, or Hyacinth, or even Mother, are still living here—still enjoying the comfort of these walls, still eating at this table—is because Kate loves this family enough to let you stay.”

His words hit her like a physical blow, and her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“I would be well within my rights to pack all of you up and send you away,” he continued, his voice cold, sharp as glass. “To turn you out onto the street and leave you to fend for yourselves. But I haven’t. And do you know why? Because Kate wouldn’t let me. Because Kate, despite everything—despite your sharp tongue and whatever poison you spat at her tonight—loves you.”

Eloise stumbled back a step, her chest heaving, her hands shaking at her sides. “You wouldn’t… you would never—”

“No,” Anthony said sharply, his voice still hard. “I wouldn’t. But the fact that I could should make you think twice before you speak to her the way you did tonight.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, pressing down on both of them like a weight neither could bear.

For a brief, flickering moment, Anthony’s expression shifted—regret, shame, something softer creeping in around the edges of his rage. But then Eloise’s voice cut through the silence, trembling but sharp.

“Get out.”

Anthony stared at her, his chest rising and falling with deep, furious breaths. “Excuse me?”

“Get out!” Eloise shouted, her voice breaking as tears pooled in her wide, furious eyes. “You’ve said what you came to say. Now leave!”

With a sharp shove to his chest, she forced him to take a step back. Her palms stayed pressed against him as she pushed again, harder this time.

“Get out!” she shouted, her voice cracking with the force of it.

Anthony stumbled back a step, his face flickering with shock before it twisted into something colder. For one breathless moment, neither of them moved.

Then Eloise grabbed the edge of the door, yanked it open, and shoved him out into the hallway with surprising strength.

“Go take care of your fragile wife!” she spat, her voice sharp and venomous even as tears pooled in her eyes. “Leave me alone.”

With that, she slammed the door in his face so hard the frame rattled.

The echo of it reverberated down the hallway, but Anthony didn’t move. He stood frozen in place, his hand halfway lifted toward the now-closed door. A faint click followed as Eloise turned the key in the lock.

For a long moment, Anthony simply stared at the door, his chest heaving as he tried to collect himself, shame coiling its way around his heart. His hand lowered slowly to his side, and with a deep, shuddering breath, he turned and walked away.

Inside the room, Eloise leaned against the door, her forehead pressed to the cool wood. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her hands shook as they pressed flat against the door, but she stayed there—alone, trembling, and furious at everyone, including herself.

Chapter Text

The tension in Bridgerton House was thick enough to choke on.

Kate and Anthony had taken their breakfast in their bedroom that morning. It was an unspoken agreement—neither had the energy nor the inclination to face the family just yet. The tray of food had been delivered with quiet efficiency, but little had been eaten. Kate had picked at a piece of toast while Newton curled beside her, his warm little body pressed into her hip. Anthony, seated at the edge of the bed with a cup of tea cooling in his hands, had barely spoken.

They had shared a few soft words—Kate trying to pull Anthony into some semblance of ease, Anthony attempting to offer her reassurance he couldn’t quite believe himself. But in the end, silence had won out, hanging heavy between them like a fog neither could push through.

When the remains of their breakfast had been cleared away, Anthony had risen with a tired sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ll be in my study,” he had said quietly.

Kate had nodded, watching him go with a knot of worry settling deep in her chest. After sitting alone with Newton for what felt like hours, she had finally decided she couldn’t bear the weight of solitude any longer and had followed him to his study.

The tension in the house carried on, spreading outward like cracks in glass.

The staff were buzzing with whispers. The argument had spread through the halls like wildfire—Eloise shouting, Anthony roaring, a door slamming so hard that dust had shaken loose from the upper floor beams. And the most scandalous detail of all: the Viscount had threatened to evict his own family.

The Bridgerton staff were nothing if not discreet when it came to their employers, but gossip among themselves was as inevitable as the sunrise. And so it happened that two maids, their heads bent close together, were whispering furiously in the hallway when Violet passed by.

“—said he threatened to kick them all out—”

“—can you imagine? Lord Anthony, of all people—”

Violet paused mid-step, her hand clutching her embroidery basket.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice sharp enough to slice through the air. The maids froze instantly, their faces blanching. “What are you two whispering about?”

The younger maid opened her mouth, closed it again, and glanced helplessly at her companion.

Mrs. Wilson, ever vigilant, appeared in the hallway at that exact moment. “My lady,” she said carefully, her hands folded in front of her. “Perhaps it’s best if we discuss this privately.”

Violet followed Mrs. Wilson to the small sitting room off the main hallway, where the housekeeper wasted no time.

“There was an argument last night, my lady. Between Lord Anthony and Miss Eloise. It was… loud.”

Violet frowned. “Yes, Francesca mentioned hearing something.”

Mrs. Wilson hesitated for only a moment before continuing, her voice low but steady. “The staff overheard, my lady. His lordship was… angry. There was shouting, and…” She hesitated again. “The staff heard him say things… things about his title. About this house. That he had the right to turn everyone out if he wished.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Violet’s face went pale, and then red with fury.

“That cannot be true,” she said sharply.

Mrs. Wilson inclined her head. “I wish it were not, my lady. But the staff heard it quite clearly.”

Violet didn’t waste another moment. She turned on her heel, her skirts swirling around her ankles, and made a beeline for Anthony’s study.

Anthony was seated behind his desk, papers scattered in front of him, though he hadn’t read a single word. His gaze kept flicking over to Kate, who sat curled on the sofa, a book open in her lap but her eyes unfocused.

“Are you cold?” he asked softly.

Kate shook her head without looking up. “No.”

Anthony’s hand clenched around the edge of his desk. He couldn’t bear seeing her like this—silent, sad, carrying the weight of Eloise’s sharp words and his own harsh actions.

The door burst open with enough force to startle them both. Violet stood in the doorway, her chest heaving, her face set in a thunderous expression Anthony hadn’t seen since he was a boy.

“Anthony Charles Bridgerton,” she said, her voice low and trembling with anger. “What on earth have you done?”

Kate sat up straighter, her eyes wide. “What’s happened?”

Violet didn’t take her eyes off Anthony. “Would you care to explain to your wife why the staff are whispering that their viscount threatened to evict his own family last night?”

The color drained from Anthony’s face.

“Anthony?” Kate’s voice was soft, but it trembled slightly. “Is that true?”

Anthony didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His ears went pink, his jaw tightened, and he stared down at his hands as though they might offer him an escape.

“Anthony,” Kate said again, this time more firmly.

“It was—” He stopped, his voice cracking. “It was in the heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it.”

“But you said it,” Violet snapped.

The room fell silent.

Kate’s book slipped from her lap as she stood and crossed to Anthony’s desk. “Anthony,” she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. “How could you say something like that?”

Anthony’s hands fisted on the desk. “I was angry, Kate. I—”

“No,” Kate said sharply. “That isn’t an excuse.”

“It’s not,” Violet added, her voice still cold with fury. “I didn’t raise you to act with such cruelty.”

Anthony’s head snapped up, and his voice rose in frustration. “My cruelty? What about Eloise’s cruelty?”

Both Violet and Kate froze, startled by the raw emotion in Anthony’s voice.

“Do you have any idea what it felt like to hold Kate while she cried herself to sleep because of something my sister said to her? Do you know what it’s like to see her like this—tired, pale, carrying so much worry already—and then see her crushed by someone we’re supposed to trust?”

Violet sighed. “You are your father’s son, Anthony. You cannot let your worry turn you into something he would not recognize.”

“I know, Mother. I know,” Anthony’s voice cracked, and he turned his face away, his hands coming up to press against his eyes.

The silence in the study was suffocating, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Kate stood frozen beside Anthony's desk, her hand hovering just above his clenched fists. Violet, her anger softening into something more fragile—something maternal—looked carefully between her son and her daughter-in-law.

When Anthony’s shoulders began to shake, his breath hitching with the effort to hold himself together, Violet moved closer, her expression shifting into something deeply concerned.

“Oh, Anthony,” she said softly, her voice no longer sharp with anger but trembling with love. “My boy, what is this really about?”

Anthony’s head jerked up, his eyes red-rimmed and glistening. His lips parted, but no words came out. His gaze flicked briefly to Kate before dropping back to his hands, his shoulders curling inward as though he might collapse under the weight of whatever he was carrying.

Violet’s brow creased, her sharp gaze shifting to Kate. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

Kate froze under Violet’s gentle but piercing stare. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she glanced at Anthony before her gaze dropped to the floor.

“Kate,” Violet said gently, her voice coaxing, motherly. “Please.”

Kate took a shaky breath, her hand moving to her abdomen almost reflexively. “We… I haven’t felt the baby move again,” she said softly, her voice trembling.

Violet’s lips parted slightly, her sharp breath catching in her chest. Her hand came up to press lightly against her mouth as she absorbed the weight of Kate’s words.

Anthony let out a shuddering breath, his head falling into his hands. “And every day we wait, every moment she looks at me with worry in her eyes, I feel like I’m failing her. Like I’m failing our child before they’ve even arrived.”

Kate reached out, her hand resting gently on Anthony’s back, her fingers trembling slightly as they pressed against the tense muscles beneath his coat.

Violet closed her eyes briefly, composing herself before stepping closer to them both. Her voice was soft, steady, when she spoke. “Oh, my dears… Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“We didn’t want to worry anyone,” Kate said quietly. “And truly, we don’t know anything yet. It could be nothing—it could still be too early—but…”

“But the fear is still there,” Violet finished softly, her gaze flicking between them.

Anthony lifted his head again, his expression raw, unguarded. “I’ve been so afraid, Mother. Every moment of every day. I’ve seen Kate suffering through exhaustion and nausea, and now this silence—this stillness where there should be life. And I can’t do anything. I can’t fix it. I can’t protect her.”

Violet’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath, her gaze shimmering with unshed tears. She stepped forward and reached for her son, her hands cupping his face as though he were still her little boy.

“Oh, Anthony,” she whispered, pressing her forehead lightly against his. “You’ve been carrying so much of this on your own, haven’t you?”

Anthony’s eyes closed, his breath stuttering as he leaned into his mother’s touch. Kate watched them, her own tears silently slipping down her cheeks.

Violet pulled back slightly, her voice soft but firm. “Listen to me, both of you. You are doing everything you can—everything—to love and protect this child. And that is all anyone can do. The rest… the rest is out of our hands.”

Kate let out a choked breath, and Violet turned to her next, cupping her cheek in her warm, steady hands. “My dear girl, you are so brave. So much stronger than you realize. And whatever happens—whatever comes next—you are not alone. You have Anthony, and you have me. You have all of us.”

Kate nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Violet pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly for a long moment before reaching back to draw Anthony into the circle of their arms.

When they pulled apart, Violet brushed a tear from her cheek and straightened her shoulders. “Anthony,” she said firmly, her tone regaining some of its steel, though her eyes remained soft. “You must make things right with Eloise. Whatever pain she’s feeling, you only added to it. You cannot leave it like this.”

Anthony nodded, his expression earnest. “I will. I promise.”

Violet gave him a small, approving nod before turning back to Kate. “You, my dear, must rest. I won’t hear another word about it. You need peace, and you need comfort.”

Kate smiled weakly. “Yes, Violet.”

Violet leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Kate’s head before giving Anthony’s arm one last squeeze. “I’ll leave you both now. But promise me this—you’ll lean on each other. And your family. Don’t carry this weight alone.”

“We promise,” Kate said softly, her voice steady this time.

Violet left the study with quiet grace, closing the door softly behind her.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the lingering echoes of vulnerability and exhaustion. The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows across Anthony’s face as he stood staring at Kate. For a long moment, they simply looked at each other—two souls frayed at the edges but still holding on, still together.

Kate inhaled a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders slumping slightly as though the weight of everything—the argument with Eloise, the pregnancy, the unspoken fears—had finally pressed her into the ground. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke.

“Will you come rest with me?”

Anthony froze. Kate rarely asked him for comfort so plainly, so openly. But now, she was looking at him with tired eyes, her vulnerability laid bare in a way that made his chest ache. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. “Of course, Kate. Of course I will.”

Crossing the space between them in just a few strides, Anthony reached for her hand, threading his fingers gently through hers. His grip was steady, warm—anchoring.

Kate let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and leaned into him, resting her forehead against his chest as his arms came up to wrap around her.

Neither of them spoke as Anthony guided her out of the study and back toward their bedroom. The halls were quiet, the distant hum of the household carrying on without them.

When they reached their room, Anthony helped Kate settle into bed, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders before slipping in beside her. He gathered her against him, her back pressed to his chest, one of his arms curling protectively around her waist as they drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

The morning sun cast dappled light across the garden paths, the air crisp and carrying the scent of roses and fresh greenery. Kate walked slowly through the garden, her hand resting lightly against her belly as Newton trotted beside her. The brief rain the night before had left the hedges glistening with tiny droplets, and birds chirped softly in the distance.

Anthony had left early that morning, pressing a kiss to her temple and promising her he’d speak with Eloise as soon as he returned. He had urged her—begged her, even—to stay in bed and rest. But Kate had never been very good at staying still, especially not with so much swirling in her chest.

Newton barked softly, his tail wagging, and Kate looked up to see Eloise walking toward her across the gravel path.

Eloise’s pace was hesitant, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her gown was slightly wrinkled, and her face was pale, dark circles smudged beneath her eyes. Kate’s heart clenched.

“Good morning, Eloise,” Kate said softly, her voice steady despite the tightness in her throat.

Eloise stopped a few steps away, her lips parting as if she wasn’t sure how to begin. “May I join you?”

Kate nodded, offering a small smile. “Of course.”

They walked side by side in silence for a moment while Newton waddled ahead, sniffing every bush and stone he passed.

Finally, Eloise broke the silence. “I owe you an apology, Kate.”

Kate glanced over at her sister-in-law, taking in the way her shoulders hunched and her chin dipped downward.

Eloise’s voice trembled slightly as she continued, “I was cruel to you. And unfair. I said things I shouldn’t have—things I didn’t even really mean, not in the way they came out.”

Kate exhaled slowly. “Thank you for saying that, Eloise.”

“I’m not angry that you married Anthony,” Eloise continued quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Truly, I’m not. You’ve made him happier than I’ve ever seen him, and—well, you’re Kate. Of course you’ve made him happy. But everything feels… off lately. Everyone seems to be slipping away. First Daphne, then Penelope, even Edwina—all of them gone or distant. Francesca can’t wait to marry and run away from us all. And I—” Her voice broke, and she stopped walking, turning to face Kate fully. “I suppose I feel like I’m being left behind.”

Kate’s chest ached at the raw vulnerability in Eloise’s voice.

“Oh, Eloise,” Kate said softly. She reached out and took Eloise’s hands in her own. “You’re not being left behind. You’re just… standing still for a moment while everyone else moves around you. But that doesn’t mean you won’t find your own path, your own happiness.”

Eloise looked down at their joined hands, her lip trembling. “I know. Or—I’m trying to know.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Eloise spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know about the baby, Kate. I overheard you and Mary talking last month.”

Kate froze, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to listen,” Eloise said quickly. “But I heard enough. And I’ve seen the way Anthony watches you lately, how he hovers as if he might catch you if you so much as stumble. And I’ve seen you, Kate. You’re not yourself. You’re tired, and—” Eloise broke off, her voice catching. “I feel awful. I was cruel to you when you’re already carrying so much.”

Kate swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You couldn’t have known, Eloise. And your feelings still matter, even if I’ve been unwell.”

Eloise looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I feel like such a fool.”

Kate shook her head, a soft smile breaking across her lips. “You’re not a fool, Eloise. You’re just… feeling everything very deeply right now. And that’s not foolish—it’s human.”

Eloise let out a shaky breath, a small, broken laugh escaping her lips. “You sound like my mother.”

Kate laughed softly. “Violet is a wise woman.”

The two of them stood there for a long moment, the sunlight filtering gently between them, Newton curling up on a patch of grass nearby.

Eventually, Eloise spoke again, her voice hesitant. “Are you… is everything… alright? With the baby?”

Kate’s smile wavered. Her fingers instinctively curled against her belly, pressing lightly as if hoping—praying—for some reassuring flutter in response. None came. “We’re still waiting,” she admitted softly. “I haven’t felt anything, and it’s been… difficult not to let my mind spiral.”

Eloise nodded, her expression serious. “I’m sorry, Kate. Truly.”

Before Kate could respond, the distant sound of hooves reached their ears. Both women turned toward the drive, where Anthony was dismounting from his horse, his coat slightly rumpled, his hair tousled from the wind.

His eyes locked onto them immediately, and his expression was flooded with concern and relief. He hesitated before crossing the garden in quick strides. His gaze locked with Kate's, and she gave him a small nod.

“Eloise,” he said as he approached, his voice steady but soft.

Eloise straightened, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“I owe you an apology,” Anthony said firmly, his gaze never wavering from his sister’s face. “What I said to you was unacceptable. I was angry, and I let that anger control me. But that doesn’t excuse what I said, or the way I spoke to you.”

Eloise’s lips trembled, and she nodded once. “Thank you, Anthony.”

Anthony hesitated before wrapping Eloise in a hug. “I’m sorry, Eloise. I’m so deeply sorry.”

Eloise let out a small, choked laugh, pushing him away from her. “Alright, alright. You don’t have to get so emotional.”

A crooked smile twitched at Anthony’s lips, and the tension between them began to ease.

Kate stepped closer to Anthony, her hand slipping into his. He gave her a look, silently asking for permission, and Kate nodded, smiling softly.

“We’re expecting,” Anthony said, his voice trembling slightly. “But it’s been… hard not to let our fears take over.”

Eloise nodded, her expression softening as she looked at them both. “You’re going to be wonderful parents. Both of you.”

The three of them stood there for a long moment, the weight of anger and hurt slowly dissolving into something gentler—something that felt a little like hope.

Newton barked, breaking the silence, and all three of them laughed softly.

“Come inside,” Kate said, her voice warm. “Let’s have tea. Together.”

Anthony offered his arm to Eloise, who took it hesitantly, and Kate fell into step beside them as they walked back toward the house.

Chapter Text

Kate sat curled in an armchair, her feet tucked beneath her, a cup of tea cradled between her palms. Across from her, Violet lounged comfortably, knitting in hand, though she seemed more occupied with conversation than with the growing row of stitches.

“You look well today, dearest,” Violet observed warmly. “A little more color in your cheeks.”

Kate hummed as she took a small sip of her tea, the warmth spreading through her. “I certainly feel better now than I did a few weeks ago.”

“Good,” Violet said approvingly, setting down her knitting. “Though I will say, you are far too much like Anthony. You insist you’re ‘fine’ even when you’re clearly exhausted.”

Before Kate could respond, the butler appeared in the doorway. “Lady Sharma has arrived to see you, my lady.”

Kate’s heart lifted, a soft smile spreading across her face as Mary stepped into the room, her eyes warm and eager as they landed on her.

“Kate,” Mary greeted, moving toward her with open arms. “I wanted to see how you were feeling, dearest.”

Kate allowed herself to be gathered into a familiar embrace, the scent of sandalwood and lavender enveloping her as Mary held her close.

“I’m well, truly,” Kate reassured, pulling back with a gentle squeeze of her mother’s hands. “Better than I was last week.”

Mary studied her with a knowing expression before settling beside her, reaching out to touch Kate’s knee. “And have you felt…?”

At that, Kate’s throat tightened. Mary didn’t need to finish the question, Kate knew exactly what she was asking. She exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her belly. “No… not yet.”

Mary and Violet exchanged a glance before Mary spoke again, her voice gentle. “It will happen soon, darling. Every woman is different.”

Kate nodded, but something inside her wavered. She wanted to believe that, wanted to hold on to the knowledge that everything was progressing as it should, but still—she felt as though she were waiting for a sign. A reassurance that everything was truly real.

“I just…” Kate hesitated, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. “I want to feel them. To know that they’re really there. That they’re…safe.”

Her voice trembled slightly, and immediately, Mary and Violet reached for her, their hands closing around hers, grounding her.

“Oh, my love,” Mary murmured, squeezing Kate’s hands between her own. “You must trust your body. It knows what to do.”

Violet nodded, her other hand stroking gently over Kate’s hair. “And you mustn’t let worry steal these precious months from you. You have love, you have support, and you are not alone.”

Kate let out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down her cheek as she gave them a watery smile. “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just…” Her voice broke.

A sob slipped free before she could stop it, and suddenly, she was crying—really crying—shoulders shaking as all the unspoken fears she had kept at bay spilled over.

Mary’s arms were around her in an instant, pulling her close as Kate buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, breath hitching between sobs. “I don’t—I don’t know why I’m like this,” she choked out. “I should be happy, I am happy, I—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mary soothed, rubbing slow, comforting circles over Kate’s back. “It’s alright. Let it out.”

Kate tried, she really did, to push down the overwhelming tide of emotions, but it was as though something deep within her had cracked open, spilling fears she hadn’t even admitted to herself.

“What if something happens?” she gasped, her fingers clutching desperately at Mary’s sleeve. “What if something goes wrong? What if I never feel them move? What if I do and then they—”

Her voice broke again, and this time, Violet was there too, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, her own voice thick with emotion.

“My darling girl, you are not alone in this,” she murmured. “You do not have to be so strong all the time.”

Kate sniffled, shaking her head. “I don’t mean to be. I just—” She let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how not to be.”

Mary tightened her hold, rocking her slightly. “You have always carried so much, my love. Even when you shouldn’t have had to.” She pulled back just enough to cradle Kate’s face between her hands, brushing the dampness from her cheeks. “But this? This is not a burden to carry alone.”

Kate swallowed hard, blinking up at her mother, searching for some kind of reassurance in her warm brown eyes.

Mary’s voice softened, deep with love. “You are safe, Kate. Your baby is safe.”

Kate let out a shaky exhale, nodding weakly.

“And if ever there is a moment where you are not alright,” Violet added gently, “you need only say the word, and we will hold you up. You and your little one.”

Kate sniffled, leaning into Mary’s touch before glancing up at Violet, her heart aching at the depth of love she saw there. She knew, in her bones, that they meant it.

And then, the door swung open with an urgent force.

Kate turned just in time to see Anthony stride into the room, his expression alarmed as his sharp gaze took in the scene—his wife in tears, his mother and mother-in-law at her side, their hands clasping hers in obvious comfort.

His face paled.

“What happened?” His voice was sharp, his hands clenched at his sides. “Kate?”

Kate let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and immediately reached for him. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, watching as his tension didn’t abate. “Really, Anthony. I was just… feeling overwhelmed.”

His shoulders didn’t relax immediately, but he moved toward her, reaching out instinctively, his fingers brushing over her cheek, as if reassuring himself that she was truly alright.

“I don’t like coming home to see you in tears,” he admitted, his voice low, thick with barely concealed emotion.

Kate leaned into his touch, squeezing his wrist lightly. “I feel better now.”

“Do you?” His eyes searched hers, looking for any hint that she was hiding something from him.

“I do,” she said, nodding. “I’m fortunate to have such wonderful mothers.”

Violet smiled at her son. “And so are you,” she said, chuckling as she pulled him into an embrace. Anthony stiffened for only a moment before exhaling and wrapping his arms around his mother. “You both worry so much, my dear. But you are not alone in this.”

When they parted, Anthony swallowed, his jaw tight, and turned as Mary reached for his hand. She gave him a soft, reassuring smile as she squeezed it warmly. “We are all here. You don’t have to bear every burden yourself.”

For a long moment, he stood there, his eyes flicking between Kate, Mary, and Violet.

Then, at last, his shoulders loosened. Slightly.

He exhaled deeply before reaching for Kate again, drawing her into his arms. She sighed against his chest, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her hair.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun slanted through the window of Kate’s study, casting long, golden streaks across the polished floorboards. Kate sat curled in the window seat, a forgotten book in her lap, one hand pressed lightly against her stomach.

Her tea sat untouched on the table beside her, its rich spiced scent curling in the air, mingling with the faint hint of rain that lingered from earlier in the day. But Kate wasn’t thinking about tea, or books. She was thinking about the silence. About the stillness beneath her palm.

A soft knock at the door startled her from her thoughts.

Kate blinked, her fingers curling against the fabric of her gown as she turned toward the doorway.

Eloise stood there, hesitant, a book tucked under her arm. “I—I was just coming to talk about the book you gave me,” she said quickly, her gaze flickering to Kate’s face, then to her hands resting protectively over her belly. “But if you’re busy, I can come back.”

“No, stay,” Kate said, her voice quieter than she intended. She sat up straighter, smoothing her skirts as she gestured toward the settee near the fireplace. “Come in. Please.”

Eloise hesitated for only a moment longer before stepping inside, closing the door softly behind her. She perched on the edge of the settee, the book still held tightly in her hands.

Kate reached for the tea she had long since abandoned, pouring some into a spare cup. “Would you like to try some chai?” she asked, offering Eloise the delicate porcelain.

Eloise eyed the dark, spiced liquid curiously. “This is what you always drink, isn’t it?”

Kate nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “It’s my favorite.”

Eloise took the cup, sniffed it, then took a cautious sip. Her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “Oh. That’s… actually quite good.”

Kate let out a small, pleased hum. “I’m glad you think so.”

For a moment, there was a quiet, comfortable ease between them. The warm aroma of cinnamon, cloves, and cardamom filled the space, and Eloise sipped her tea thoughtfully. But then her gaze drifted back to Kate’s face—to the way her fingers still rested against her stomach, to the shadows beneath her eyes.

She set her cup down. “Kate,” she asked carefully. “Is everything alright?”

Kate opened her mouth, ready to give a polite, practiced answer. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, her throat tightened, and before she could stop it, a tear slipped down her cheek.

She turned away quickly, dashing at her face with the back of her hand. “I—I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick.

Eloise froze, startled. “Kate—”

“I still haven’t felt anything,” Kate whispered, barely able to force the words out. “It’s been weeks.” She let out a shaky breath, her hands pressing more firmly against her belly. “The doctor says it’s normal. That everything looks fine. Violet and Mary both said the same.” Her voice wavered, cracking under the weight of her fear. “But what if it’s not? What if—what if I’m just waiting for something that isn’t coming?”

Eloise’s breath caught. She didn’t know what to say. She had no reassurances to give, no experience to draw from. But she knew what it felt like to be afraid of change, of loss, of things slipping through your fingers no matter how tightly you tried to hold on. So she did the only thing she could.

She reached out, taking Kate’s trembling hand in both of hers, squeezing it gently. And when Kate didn’t pull away—when she only curled her fingers tighter around Eloise’s—Eloise shifted closer, an uncharacteristic gentleness in her movements.

“You are not waiting for nothing,” Eloise said firmly. “And you are not alone.”

Kate let out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening. “I feel so foolish. I should be stronger than this.”

Eloise let out a sharp breath, incredulous. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Kate. You have been sick for months, you are carrying a whole person inside you, and you still manage to run an entire household and host the most insufferable members of the ton with perfect grace. How much stronger do you think you need to be?”

Kate let out a surprised laugh, wiping another tear from her cheek.

Eloise huffed. “Honestly, if you weren’t the most maddeningly composed person I know, I might have half a mind to be worried about you.”

Kate shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You are a good friend, Eloise.”

Eloise tilted her chin, feigning offense. “A good friend? I daresay I have been excellent just now.”

Kate gave her hand another squeeze, warmth spreading through her chest. “You have.”

Eloise softened, and for the first time in a long time, Kate saw something unguarded in her expression. Something that had been missing for weeks.

“That’s what sisters do,” Eloise said simply.

Kate’s throat tightened, but this time, it wasn’t from fear.

They sat in silence for a while after that, the sun sinking lower, the tea cooling between them.

Then, after a beat, Eloise cleared her throat and picked up her book. “Now, about this novel you suggested… what on earth were you thinking?”

Kate let out a real, full laugh, and Eloise grinned.

Chapter Text

Kate sat in her study, poring over a stack of correspondence she’d been putting off. Her anxiety had begun to heighten again, nudging her to pause now and then to press a gentle hand against her belly. She fought the urge to do it again when suddenly, she felt it.

Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, waiting, unbreathing, until—she felt it again, a soft, certain shift that left no room for doubt. This was real.

“Oh…” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek as her hand trembled over the curve of her belly. The baby was moving, truly moving. She thought of Anthony—his face, his hand resting reverently over this little life. Her throat tightened with emotion, and without another thought, she gathered her skirts and hurried from her study, her pulse racing with equal parts excitement and relief.

“Anthony?” she called, her voice echoing as she neared his study door, breathless. “Anthony?”

When she found the room empty, her heart lurched, frustration mingling with her eagerness to tell him. Nearly tea time—perhaps he was in the drawing room. She dashed toward it, hoping to find him before anyone else noticed her tear-streaked cheeks.

She stepped into the drawing room only to find Benedict with Violet, Hyacinth, and Gregory, all of whom looked up with curious smiles as she entered.

“Kate!” Hyacinth exclaimed brightly, waving a fan of cards in her hand. “We’re learning a new game. You must join us!”

Trying to compose herself, Kate forced a quick smile. “Not now, Hyacinth,” she replied, searching the room anxiously. “Has anyone seen Anthony?”

Violet’s watchful gaze softened as she noted Kate’s flushed cheeks and glistening eyes. “I believe he stepped out for a moment, but he should be back shortly,” she said gently.

Just then, she heard his footsteps down the hallway, and her heart skipped. She turned, finding him just as he was rounding the corner, looking pleasantly surprised to see her there.

Relief and anticipation surged in her chest, and without thinking, she rushed toward him, her hands clutching the lapels of his jacket. “Come with me,” she said, her voice unsteady with emotion.

Anthony raised an amused eyebrow, glancing over her shoulder at the curious family members in the drawing room. He chuckled, allowing her to tug him down the hallway. “Kate, you’re usually a bit more discreet when my family’s around.”

“Oh, hush,” she muttered, her hand trembling as she pulled him. “Just… please, come with me.”

The teasing left his expression as he registered the urgency in her voice, his brow furrowing. “Kate, what’s wrong?” he asked quietly, concern etched into his face.

She didn’t answer, leading him all the way to their bedroom and closing the door firmly behind them. Turning, she found herself overwhelmed for a moment, heart pounding as she looked up into his concerned, questioning gaze.

“Kate,” he whispered, his thumb brushing the tears from her cheek. “What is it?”

She took a breath, trying to keep her voice steady. “I… I felt something. Just now,” she whispered, her hand pressing lightly to her stomach.

Anthony’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he simply stared, his expression one of pure, disbelieving wonder. Slowly, his gaze dropped to her belly, and his hands covered hers with a reverence that sent another wave of warmth through her.

“Are you… you’re certain?” he asked, his voice thick with awe.

Her throat tightened as she nodded, another tear slipping down her cheek. “Yes. I didn’t dare believe it at first, but then I felt it again. It’s real, Anthony. Our baby.”

He let out a breath, his eyes brightening as his hands cupped her waist, pulling her close. “Kate… you’ve just given me the most beautiful news.” His forehead pressed gently to hers, and she felt his breath catch with emotion. His hands remained over her abdomen, his touch tender and protective. “I can hardly believe it.”

Kate laughed softly, brushing away a tear. “Neither can I. I was so afraid I’d never feel this…”

He met her gaze, his expression fierce with devotion. “It’s real, Kate. You’ve made my dreams real.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, then let them linger against her cheek, her jaw, and finally her lips, pouring into each kiss all the wonder and gratitude he couldn’t put into words.

They held each other for a moment, wrapped in the intimacy of this new shared joy. Then, slowly, Anthony kissed her again, this time with a quiet urgency, as if trying to merge their spirits with the same tenderness that had filled their hearts.

Their kiss deepened, a gentle, reverent exchange that soon grew bolder, carrying them slowly toward the bed. Kate’s fingers found the buttons of his jacket, slipping it from his shoulders, and his hands drifted to the laces of her gown, freeing her from the fabric. Together, they undressed in quiet, unhurried movements.

Once they lay together, bare and entangled, his hands once more found her belly, resting there as if trying to connect with the life that grew within her. He leaned down, pressing a tender, lingering kiss just below her navel, his breath warm against her skin.

“Our baby,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with awe as he spoke to the small life beneath her skin. “So tiny, but already filling my heart more than I ever imagined.”

Kate gasped softly. “I just felt him again,” she whispered.

Anthony gazed at her in awe. “Really?” He grinned. “You said ‘him.’ Do you think it’s a boy?”

Kate’s fingers threaded through his hair, her heart swelling as she watched him—this strong, devoted man she loved, who could be so unguarded and tender for her. “It’s just a feeling, I guess,” she said, laughing softly. “I always dream about a little boy.”

“Kate,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so grateful for you. For this.” He placed another soft kiss on her belly, then came back to cradle her in his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead.

She sighed happily, her fingers tracing his jaw. “I never thought I could be this happy.”

He pressed her hand to his lips, his voice warm with promise. “It’s only the beginning. You, me, our child—our family. I swear I’ll do everything I can to protect your happiness.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, light poured softly through the windows, casting a warm glow on the room as Dr. Morton folded his spectacles and gave them both a kind, approving smile. "Everything looks splendid, Lady Bridgerton. You're progressing beautifully. You can expect your little one sometime in autumn, perhaps as late as November."

Anthony laughed—a small, breathless sound of relief—before pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "Autumn," he repeated, an excited hum in his voice. "So soon?"

Kate laughed, the sound light and full of affection. "Soon, but not too soon. We still have time to prepare," she said, her voice soft.

Dr. Morton nodded, his smile warm. "Indeed. But all is well. I’ll leave you to celebrate."

As the door clicked shut behind the doctor, Kate found herself enveloped in Anthony’s arms. His face was buried against her neck, his breath warm and uneven as they both laughed and cried, clinging to each other.

Anthony pulled back slightly, his eyes shining, full of a wonder that made Kate's heart swell. "I’m so happy," he whispered, lifting his gaze to hers, the words thick with gratitude. "Thank you."

Her hand cupped his face, her thumb brushing away the tears that had gathered on his cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I can’t believe it’s real."

They stood there, hands on her belly, allowing the reality of their little one to settle between them. Anthony’s kisses were slow, reverent, each one filled with more emotion than words could capture. His hands worked carefully, untying the laces of her gown, his touch lingering on her skin as he kissed her collarbone, his lips warm and tender against her neck.

Kate felt her breath hitch as his hands roamed over her skin, his touch gentle but deliberate, his lips tracing a path down her body, reverent as they lingered over the gentle swell of her belly. He knelt beside her, his hands framing her waist, and he pressed a long, tender kiss to her abdomen, as if trying to communicate his love directly to their child.

Kate’s heart swelled as she reached down to draw him up, guiding him back to her as they sank together onto the bed. They lay entwined, sharing quiet, intimate words and promises, their bodies melting together in a way that felt unhurried and timeless.

As they lay together afterward, nestled in the warmth of each other’s arms, Kate’s head rested on his shoulder, and she felt the comforting rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. Anthony’s hand drifted back to her belly, his fingers tracing soft circles over the spot where their child grew.

“What will they look like?” he wondered aloud, his voice tender.

Kate smiled. "I hope they have your eyes… and your laugh," she said.

“I hope they have your laugh,” Anthony said. "and your beauty, your kindness, your smile—"

"Anthony!" she giggled, swatting at his chest playfully. "They must have some of your good qualities, too."

He chuckled, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I think you’ve got the better ones, darling."

She laughed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Can we tell the family tonight?” he asked. “I want to shout this from the rooftops."

Kate giggled, tapping his nose lightly with her finger. "Could we wait until Simon and Daphne arrive this week?" she asked. “We can tell everyone during dinner.”

He gave her a mock look of despair. "They’re not due for a few days. How am I supposed to keep this to myself that long?"

Kate chuckled, drawing closer to him. "I believe in you," she teased.

That evening, Kate and Anthony attended what they hoped would be the last ball before escaping to the countryside to begin their family.

Anthony’s hand rested lightly on her lower back as they conversed with another couple. Each time his gaze met hers, it softened, his thumb brushing subtle, reverent circles along her waist. She could sense his joy in every touch, every lingering look, and it warmed her from the inside out.

As they excused themselves and moved toward the refreshment table, Kate felt the distinct presence of someone beside her.

“I suppose congratulations are in order?” came a familiar voice, pitched low enough for only her to hear.

Kate spun around, her heart fluttering with surprise. “Benedict! Whatever do you mean?”

He hesitated, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Oh, nothing.” His gaze shifted to where Anthony stood nearby, utterly unaware, watching her with a gentle look she was certain no one else had ever seen him wear.

Benedict’s grin widened as he turned back to Kate. “But he’s not exactly subtle, is he?”

Unable to help herself, Kate’s face softened into a smile. “Did he tell you?”

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. “He didn’t have to. He’s practically glued to your side, looking at you as though you’re made of glass.”

Kate laughed, her cheeks flushing. “We’ll be sharing the news with everyone when Daphne and Simon arrive,” she said, her voice warm with anticipation.

“Ah,” Benedict said with a nod, his grin turning conspiratorial. “Then I’ll look forward to it.”

At that moment, Anthony approached, catching the tail end of their conversation. His gaze flicked between his brother and Kate, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"Am I missing something here?" Anthony asked, his voice light, though there was a subtle tremor of excitement he could barely contain.

Benedict smirked, his expression brimming with amusement. “Not at all. Just admiring how radiant your wife looks tonight.” He raised a brow at Anthony. “Almost… glowing, wouldn’t you say?”

Anthony’s face lit up, his hand instinctively moving back to Kate’s waist, fingers splaying protectively as he pulled her close. "I couldn’t agree more," he said, unable to hide the tenderness in his gaze. "I feel like the luckiest man in the world."

Benedict bit back a smirk. “I’d say you look it as well, brother. Not many men can beam with joy at a ball.”

Kate nudged Anthony gently, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. "Anthony, really, try not to make it too obvious," she whispered, her cheeks flushing as she met his gaze. But Anthony’s excitement was barely contained. He hovered between pride and awe, looking down at her as if she were a miracle.

"Can you blame me?" he murmured, his voice laced with emotion. He tightened his hold on her, his thumb tracing small, absentminded circles along her side. "I may not be able to keep myself from shouting it for the entire room to hear. It’s honestly impressive I’ve kept quiet this long."

Benedict laughed, shaking his head. "That’s true, Kate. He’s doing quite well, considering."

Kate chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Just a bit longer, Anthony. I want us to savor this, just you and me.”

“And now your brother,” Benedict interjected.

“And our mothers,” Anthony added sheepishly. “And Eloise.”

Benedict frowned dramatically. “Eloise knew before I did?”

Anthony grinned at his brother and his wife. “And Lady Danbury. Really, Kate, the secret’s getting out anyway.”

She looked around the room, making sure they weren’t being observed, and carefully pulled her gown tight against her stomach, revealing the growing bump beneath it. Both brothers gasped, their faces melting into sappy smiles. Kate grinned. “It’s going to be quite obvious soon enough anyway,” she giggled.

Chapter Text

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Anthony lay sprawled on his side, his head propped on his hand as he gazed at Kate with utter adoration. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed, and the sheet draped loosely over her. To Anthony, she was the most breathtaking sight he’d ever seen.

“You’re staring,” Kate murmured sleepily, her voice muffled by the pillow. She was trying not to smile, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her.

“I can’t help it,” Anthony said, leaning down to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “You are so incredible, Kate.” His lips trailed a path to her stomach, where he lingered, whispering softly, “And you, little one. You’ve already made me the happiest man alive, and I haven’t even met you yet.”

Kate let out a quiet laugh, her hand slipping into his hair as he rested his cheek against her belly. “Anthony, you know the baby can’t hear you yet.”

“Not true,” he said, lifting his head to look at her with a mischievous grin. “Babies can sense love, can’t they? And there’s so much love here, I’m certain ours already knows.”

She rolled her eyes, though her heart swelled at his words. “You are absolutely impossible.”

“And yet, you married me,” he teased, pressing another kiss to her stomach before moving up to capture her lips in a tender kiss. “Have I told you how beautiful you are this morning?”

“Only about a hundred times,” she replied, unable to hide her smile now. “You’ll have to pace yourself if you intend to keep this up for the next few months.”

“I’ll never pace myself when it comes to loving you,” he said softly, his eyes dark with emotion.

She huffed a soft laugh before sitting up to kiss him deeply, her fingers curling around his neck as if to keep him close forever.

Eventually, she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. “We should get out of bed,” she murmured, though her voice lacked conviction. “Breakfast is waiting.”

Anthony groaned dramatically. “Breakfast can wait. You’re all I need.”

Kate laughed, nudging him gently. “You say that every morning.”

“And I mean it every morning,” he replied with a smirk, though he reluctantly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Fine, let’s face the day, though I doubt it will be as wonderful as this.”

They dressed lazily, pausing every so often for stolen kisses and shared smiles, until they finally made their way to the door. Anthony opened it, and they were met with a startled footman about to knock.

“My apologies, my lord, my lady,” the footman stammered, recovering quickly as he held out a letter. “This just arrived for you, my lord.”

Anthony took the letter with a frown, breaking the seal and scanning the contents. His expression shifted—first to irritation, then to something more complex. He exhaled sharply, rolling the letter between his fingers before tucking it into his pocket.

Kate tilted her head. “What is it?”

Anthony hesitated. “Work.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, picking up on his reluctance. “Work,” she repeated.

He gave her a rueful smile, brushing his knuckles over her cheek before dropping his hand to her stomach. His thumb traced gentle, absentminded circles over the fabric of her dress, lingering there as if reluctant to let go. “I have to go out of town.”

Kate couldn’t stop her frown from forming. “For how long?”

“I’m not sure. Hopefully just for tonight.” He swallowed. “I hate to leave you.” His fingers flexed against her stomach. “You are my entire world now, Kate. Both of you.”

She could hear the conflict in his voice—how deeply he wanted to stay. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a journey he wanted to take, but one he deemed necessary.

Her heart squeezed at the tenderness of his words, at the weight of something unspoken in his eyes. She reached up, cupping his face and drawing him into a deep kiss that spoke of her love, her gratitude, and her promise to always be there when he returned. When they finally parted, her hand remained on his cheek, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

“Do you at least have time to join me for breakfast before you go?” she asked softly.

Anthony’s lips parted, as if caught between obligation and desire. Then he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, full of the love that always tethered him to her. “For you, I will make time.”

Kate sat at her desk, the curtains fluttering softly in the warm afternoon air. She glanced up from the letter she was writing to Edwina as the door creaked open, revealing Eloise standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and an expectant look on her face. Without a word, Eloise strode inside and dropped into the chair across from her, leaning forward slightly as if ready to pounce on whatever Kate might say.

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, Kate raising a curious eyebrow while Eloise’s gaze narrowed in a challenge.

“Well?” Eloise finally said, breaking the quiet. “I believe you have something to tell me.”

Kate blinked, feigning innocence as she sat back in her chair and laced her fingers together. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please.” Eloise waved a dismissive hand. “Anthony was humming—humming!—happily to himself at breakfast. The last time he was that cheerful, you’d just agreed to marry him, so unless I’ve missed something monumental, I can only assume you have good news.”

Kate couldn’t hold back her laugh. “You are just like your brother,” she said, shaking her head. “Yes, Eloise, you’re right. We do have good news. But,” she added firmly as Eloise sat up straighter, her face lighting with excitement, “we’re waiting for Daphne and Simon to arrive before we tell everyone.”

Eloise groaned, leaning back in mock despair. “Surely everyone knows by now. You and Anthony are both acting ridiculously happy, and he can’t stop looking at you like a lovesick fool.”

Kate smirked, leaning forward with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘acting ridiculously happy,’ Eloise? Are you saying it’s unusual for your brother to be in a good mood?”

Eloise snorted. “Good mood? No, Kate, this is far beyond that. It’s unnatural. He’s practically floating around the house, and you…” She gestured at Kate with a knowing look. “You keep smiling to yourself like you’ve won some grand prize.”

Kate rested her chin on her hand, her grin softening. “Perhaps we have,” she said quietly, her tone warm and content.

Eloise’s teasing expression faltered for a moment, replaced by something more genuine, almost tender. But she quickly recovered, rolling her eyes for good measure. “I don’t know how long I can keep pretending not to know. I’m bound to slip and make fun of Anthony’s moon-eyes any moment.”

Kate laughed. “Surely you can manage a few more days.”

“No, Kate, he’s being absolutely absurd,” Eloise replied with a dramatic sigh.

“He really can’t help himself, can he?” Kate said, full of fond amusement

“No, he can’t,” Eloise said, the teasing irritation in her voice tinged with something softer. She stood. “Congratulations. Truly.”

Kate smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “Thank you, Eloise.”

As Eloise slipped out of the room, Kate leaned back in her chair, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face. Ridiculously happy, indeed.

That night, Kate and Anthony lay awake in separate beds, miles apart.

Kate shifted onto her side, then her back, then onto her other side, sighing into the darkness.

She missed him.

Missed his warmth, his weight, the way he always curled himself around her like a shield, even in sleep. Missed the steady, grounding presence of him—the way he pressed a sleepy kiss to her temple whenever she stirred, the way he murmured her name like a prayer in the early hours of the morning.

With a sigh, she rolled over, reaching out instinctively—only to grasp at nothing.

Her fingers curled into the empty sheets, and something deep in her chest ached. It was one night. Just one. And yet here she was, pining, like a lovesick girl in a romance novel. She huffed, shaking her head. Get a hold of yourself, Kate.

And then she thought about that morning.

The way he had kissed her awake, slow and unhurried, like he was memorizing the taste of her. The way his hands had moved over her body, reverent and possessive, his mouth tracing soft words against her skin—words that had burned into her, low and wicked.

She shivered at the memory, heat spreading through her.

Her thighs pressed together of their own accord.

It was ridiculous, but the moment she acknowledged how empty the bed felt without him, her mind filled with every detail of him—his scent, his hands, the sound of his voice when he was desperate.

A soft whimper escaped her involuntarily. She bit down on her lower lip, hesitating for a moment before slipping her hand beneath the sheets.

Meanwhile, in a run-down inn far outside London, Anthony was in agony.

The bed was uncomfortable, the sheets were scratchy, and the air in the room was stifling. None of that mattered.

What mattered was that he wasn’t home.

Wasn’t with Kate.

Wasn’t touching her, kissing her, worshipping her the way he should be.

He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. He had been restless all day, counting the hours until he could return to her, but now that he was finally alone, the ache of missing her was unbearable.

And then, as if his mind delighted in torturing him, he thought about how she must look right now. Curled beneath the sheets in their bed. His pillow tucked beneath her cheek, her hair spilling across it. Wearing one of those damn delicate slips, maybe the dark blue one.

And just like that, he was hard.

He cursed softly, pressing his hand against the thick length of his arousal, but it only made it worse.

It had been less than a day. He had gone less than a day without touching her, and yet he was wrecked, barely holding himself together.

His mind betrayed him, conjuring the image of Kate beneath him, the way she gasped when he stretched her, the way her nails dug into his shoulders when he filled her completely. The way she fell apart when he whispered her name.

A low growl tore from his throat. He gave in.

With a sharp inhale, he wrapped his hand around himself, squeezing just enough to feel the ghost of her warmth, her slick heat.

His hips jerked at the thought, his body already burning for her.

She would tease him if she saw him now, desperate and aching, her wicked little smile playing on her lips as she ran a single finger down his chest, watching him tremble beneath her touch.

His jaw clenched as his strokes grew firmer, faster.

Soon.

He would be home soon, and when he was—she would know exactly how much he had missed her.

Back in London, Kate’s breath hitched as she tipped over the edge, pleasure crashing over her in slow, warm waves.

Her skin was flushed, her body loose and languid in the aftermath.

And yet—

She let out a frustrated little sigh, rolling onto her side.

It wasn’t the same. Not even close.

A sleepy smile tugged at her lips as she buried her face in his pillow, imagining what Anthony would say if he knew how pathetic she was right now.

Tomorrow, she told herself.

Tomorrow, he would be back.

And when he was—she would do her best to make damn sure he never left their bed again.

Chapter Text

Kate stirred in the early morning light, her body naturally gravitating toward warmth—toward him. Her hand stretched across the bed, seeking familiar solidity, but instead, she found only cool sheets. Her fingers flexed over the empty space where Anthony should have been, where he always was.

Then she remembered.

He was gone.

A sigh escaped her as she sank deeper into the mattress, letting herself wallow just for a moment. She missed him. It was silly, really. He had only been gone a day, and yet she felt the absence like an ache, a hollow space in the rhythm of her morning.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered aloud.

She was being absurd. She was not some love-struck, wilted thing who couldn't function without her husband. No, she was Kate Bridgerton, perfectly capable of surviving a single night without Anthony mooning over her belly and kissing her breathless at every opportunity.

The thought made her laugh as she sat up, stretching her arms above her head. She would be fine. And with that, she threw back the covers and rose to start her day.

The morning passed pleasantly enough. Kate had gone to Lady Danbury’s to visit Mary, a visit long overdue.

Mary arched a brow as Kate was shown into the drawing room. “What’s the occasion, darling?”

Kate raised a brow. “Am I not allowed to visit my mother?”

Mary smirked. “Of course you are. But you usually don’t.”

Kate blushed, and hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Anthony’s been out of town.”

Mary’s lips twitched. “Ah. And you’re so desperately lonely you’ve come seeking out your mother’s company?”

Kate huffed a laugh. “Am I that predictable?”

Mary chuckled, pouring them both tea. “Perhaps only to me.”

Kate accepted her cup with a sheepish smile. “I have been meaning to visit more often. I’m sorry I haven’t.”

Mary waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t apologize. I am glad you’re busy. And happy.”

“I am.” She toyed with the rim of her cup, her lips curving into a soft, secretive smile. “I felt them move,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mary’s teacup paused mid-air, her eyes widening before her entire face lit up. “Kate,” she breathed, setting the cup down hurriedly and reaching for her daughter’s hands. “Oh, my darling, when?”

“A few days ago,” Kate admitted, warmth flooding her chest at the memory. “And again today.”

Mary let out a small, delighted gasp, squeezing Kate’s hands tightly. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “That’s wonderful.”

Kate laughed softly, blinking back the happy sting of tears. “It is. I—” Her voice wavered for a moment, and she let out a watery chuckle. “I’m so relieved.”

Mary smiled, her hands still clasped around Kate’s. “It won’t be long now. Soon, you’ll feel them all the time.” Her expression turned wistful, her thumb brushing absently over Kate’s knuckles. “Do you remember the first time I felt Edwina move?”

Kate shook her head, a curious smile at her lips. “Was I with you when it happened?”

“You were,” Mary chuckled fondly, her tone nostalgic. “You must have been, what, seven? Eight? You were sitting in my lap while I read to you and I nearly dropped you on the ground in shock.”

Kate laughed as her heart swelled. “Did Appa know?”

Mary’s face softened at the mention of her late husband. “Oh, yes. He wasn’t home at the time, but the moment he returned, I told him. He immediately dropped to his knees and pressed his hands to my belly, determined to feel her.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “He was so impatient. I think he spoke to her for a solid hour, trying to coax another movement out of her.”

Kate laughed, her heart squeezing at the image. “That sounds exactly like Anthony.”

Mary smiled knowingly. “Yes, it does.” She cupped Kate’s cheek, her expression turning serious. “I know you’ve been anxious, my love. But this? This is the proof you’ve been waiting for. Your baby is strong, and they are growing, just as they should.”

Kate let out a slow breath, nodding as she pressed her palm to her stomach. “I know,” she whispered. “We’re planning to announce it at dinner when Daphne and Simon arrive. Will you join us?”

“Oh, my dear,” Mary smiled. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Back at Bridgerton House, Kate spent the afternoon with Francesca and the youngest Bridgerton siblings. They played a rather competitive card game, during which Gregory attempted to cheat, Hyacinth gleefully exposed him, and Francesca quietly won nearly every round without breaking a sweat.

Kate sat back, watching them all with quiet amusement. This was home, she thought. Even without Anthony, she was not alone.

And yet, as the sun dipped low and the family gathered for dinner, she couldn’t help but feel a subtle restlessness, as though a piece of her was missing.

Still, the meal was lively, filled with laughter and easy conversation. Colin had returned for the evening, and he and Benedict spent the better part of dinner mercilessly teasing Eloise about a book she had been seen reading in the garden.

Kate was in the middle of laughing at one of Colin’s more ridiculous stories when a footman entered the dining room and approached her chair.

“A letter for you, my lady.”

Kate took it with a murmured thanks, unfolding the paper as the conversation around her carried on.

Her eyes scanned Anthony’s familiar handwriting, and her stomach dipped.

My Kate,

I regret to tell you that I must remain away another night. Matters here are more complicated than I anticipated, and though I would do anything to be home with you, it seems I must endure one more evening apart from my heart.

Have you slept well? Have you eaten enough? Are you warm at night?

God, I miss you. I’m sorry to be away from you even a moment longer.

I shall be home as soon as I am able.

Yours, always,

Anthony

Kate swallowed against the wave of disappointment that surged through her. She had known he might not return tonight, but still… she had hoped.

The thought of crawling into their bed alone again made her chest feel tight.

Later that evening, Kate stayed up with Colin, Benedict, and Eloise, putting off the loneliness of their too-empty bed. She was curled up in the sitting room, listening to the brothers exchange increasingly exaggerated tales of Anthony’s past dramatics.

“You know he’s miserable without you,” Colin said, stretching out on the settee. “I wager he’s brooding into his brandy at this very moment. He can’t stand to be apart from you.”

“Especially now,” Benedict added with a smirk. Eloise snorted.

Colin looked between them. “Especially now?”

Benedict and Eloise froze, eyes darting to Kate in mild horror.

Kate sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well, I suppose the secret’s out.”

Colin sat up, delighted. “Wait, what secret?”

Kate rolled her eyes but smiled. “We were planning to announce it when Simon and Daphne arrived, but it seems the only ones we’ll actually be announcing it to are them and your younger siblings.”

“Oh,” Eloise said with a grin. “I didn’t tell her, but Franny knows too.”

Kate sighed.

Colin looked between them, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding to pure delight. “You mean—Kate, are you—?”

“Yes, Colin,” Kate interrupted dryly. “Anthony and I are having a baby.”

For a moment, Colin simply stared. Then he let out a whoop, jumping to his feet and nearly knocking over the table in his excitement.

Kate laughed as she felt herself crushed in a tight hug.

Colin had been right. At the inn, Anthony sat in front of the fire, brooding into his brandy.

His fingers tapped idly against the glass, his mind miles away, tracing over every detail of his wife’s face, the way she smiled when she thought no one was looking, the way she felt against him in the early morning hours.

He should have been home.

Should have been in their bed, his hand on her stomach, waiting for the moment he could feel their child move beneath his palm.

Instead, he was here, stuck in a stuffy inn, tangled in negotiations that were proving more complicated than he had anticipated. He had expected some resistance, but not this level of drawn-out discussion, nor the endless back-and-forth that kept delaying his return.

It was necessary, he reminded himself. Frustrating, but necessary. Kate didn’t know the details, and he intended to keep it that way—for now. He had told her only that it was business, which was not untrue. But this was something more, something for her. For their future. For their child.

His chest tightened at the thought of her alone in their bed, reaching for him in the dark, only to find the space empty. She had assured him she would be fine, that it was only a few days, but he hated leaving her, especially now.

And the longer he was away, the more unbearable it became.

He inhaled sharply, setting the brandy aside.

It was only one more night.

One more night away, and then he would be home, back where he belonged.

Chapter Text

The drawing room was lively that afternoon, filled with the warm hum of conversation and laughter as the Bridgertons gathered before dinner.

Kate sat nestled beside Violet and Francesca, listening to Colin and Benedict argue over the best route to take to some upcoming gathering, while Eloise and Hyacinth snickered at Gregory’s latest failed attempt at a card trick.

The warmth of family surrounded her, and yet… She missed him.

It was ridiculous, really. She had spent the entire previous day proving to herself that she could function perfectly well without Anthony’s constant hovering. And yet, as the sun dipped lower and the minutes stretched on, she found herself glancing toward the door, her body on edge with anticipation.

The sound of hurried footsteps in the hall made her sit up straighter.

The door burst open. And there he was.

Kate shot to her feet the moment she saw him, her breath catching in her throat. God, she had missed him.

Anthony barely had time to scan the room before his gaze locked onto hers—and then he moved.

In an instant, he was striding toward her, dodging an armchair, half-leaping over the low table in front of the settee.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Benedict muttered.

Colin let out a low chuckle. “Well, that’s not subtle.”

But Kate hardly heard them.

She met Anthony halfway, her hands reaching for him at the same moment his arms wrapped around her, lifting her off her feet as he crushed her against him.

She laughed, breathless, pressing both hands to his face as he kissed her—fierce and longing, like he had been starved for her.

Someone—probably Gregory—made a loud, exaggerated gagging noise. Hyacinth shrieked in mock horror. “I’m too young for this!”

Francesca giggled behind her hand, and Violet smothered a knowing smile.

Benedict sighed dramatically. “Did anyone else notice that none of us got so much as a hello?”

“I noticed,” Colin said. “Shall we be offended?”

“I think we should,” Eloise agreed. “But then again, given Anthony’s temperament, we should probably just be grateful he didn’t kill a man in his rush to get home to her.”

“I can hear you all, you know,” Anthony muttered against Kate’s lips, though he made no effort to move away from her.

Kate laughed, feeling his heartbeat against hers, her own thundering in response.

“Perhaps we should leave them to it,” Colin said, amusement in his voice.

But Anthony was done with his audience. With one last lingering kiss, he grabbed Kate’s hand and all but dragged her toward the door, his grip firm and determined.

“I suppose we’ll see you both at some point in the next several hours,” Benedict called after them.

“Doubtful,” Colin quipped.

“Oh, God,” Gregory groaned.

Anthony ignored all of them.

Kate barely had time to laugh before she was out the door and halfway up the stairs, Anthony setting a brisk pace, his fingers still laced tightly with hers.

The moment the door clicked shut, Anthony pulled her into him again, arms circling her waist, lips seeking hers with renewed urgency. Kate melted into him, her hands sliding up his chest, over his broad shoulders, into his hair.

“I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, breathless, like the words had been waiting on his tongue since the moment he left.

Kate smiled against his lips. “You act as though you were gone for weeks, my love.”

Anthony pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes softening. “It felt like it.”

Her heart clenched at the depth of emotion in his voice.

She brushed a hand against his cheek, tilting her head. “I take it your business went well?”

“Well enough,” he said. “But it’s done now, and I am exactly where I belong. And,” he said, suddenly grinning, “I brought you something.”

Kate blinked in surprise as Anthony reached into his jacket, pulling out a small velvet-covered box. He placed it gently in her hands. Curious, she lifted the lid.

Inside lay a delicate golden locket, its surface decorated with a flower of ruby petals and a diamond center. Kate swallowed hard, running a thumb over the tiny stones.

“A locket?” she murmured.

“For a lock of their hair,” Anthony said softly.

Her breath caught. A sharp ache bloomed in her chest as she pressed a hand to her belly, picturing thick brown curls—just like their father’s.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

Anthony reached for her free hand, his thumb sweeping over her knuckles in a slow, steady motion. “I wanted you to have something you could always carry,” he murmured. “Something close to your heart.”

Kate let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh, blinking against the sting of tears. “Oh, Anthony.”

His hand reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears before they could fall. “I just… I had to do something, Kate. You’ve given me the greatest joy I’ve ever known, and I wanted—needed—to show you.”

Kate set the locket down gently and threw her arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as she could. Anthony chuckled, catching her easily, wrapping her in his arms.

“It’s perfect,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“Good,” he whispered into her hair, pressing a soft kiss there.

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in quiet happiness, until Kate finally pulled back, her gaze full of warmth and mischief.

“Now,” she said, arching a brow. “Just how many ridiculous things have you done since I told you the baby was moving?”

Anthony had the audacity to look innocent. “Ridiculous?” he echoed.

Kate gave him a knowing look.

“Well,” he admitted, grinning, “if you must know, I may have spent an absurd amount of time discussing proper bassinet construction with the carpenter—”

Kate snorted.

“—and I may have nearly started a fight at the jeweler’s because I didn’t like the clasp on the first locket I picked—”

“Oh, Anthony.”

“—and I certainly had a very long conversation with Newton before I left about how he needed to take care of you in my stead.”

Kate laughed, shaking her head as she cupped his face. “You are completely ridiculous.”

Anthony only kissed her again, his hands sliding down to rest reverently over her belly. His thumbs traced slow, tender circles over the fabric of her gown, his breath catching as he stilled.

Kate watched as his expression softened, filled with quiet anticipation. “Do you think…” he hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Would I be able to feel them yet?”

Her heart swelled at the cautious, eager hope in his voice.

“Not just yet,” she said, covering his hands with her own. “But soon.”

Anthony exhaled, half-exasperated, half in wonder. “I don’t like waiting.”

Kate grinned, lacing their fingers together over the gentle swell of her belly. “I’ve noticed.”

Anthony huffed out a soft laugh before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’m just…I’m so excited, Kate.”

“I know, my love,” she teased. “But I think it will be longer if you keep willing it to happen sooner.”

He groaned dramatically, resting his forehead against hers. “This child is already testing my patience.”

Kate smirked. “They must take after their father, then.”

Anthony chuckled, shaking his head, but he didn’t move his hand from her belly. He simply held it there, as if hoping, if he stayed long enough, the baby would make themselves known to him.

Kate sighed, nestling closer against him. “You’ll feel him soon, Anthony. I promise.”

His grip on her tightened just slightly, his voice quieter now, full of something deep and raw. “I can hardly wait.”

Kate lifted his hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday morning, Simon, Daphne, and Augie arrived in a cheerful flurry of greetings. Kate waited patiently as each Bridgerton sibling took turns embracing Daphne, who then finally opened her arms to Kate, pulling her close.

“We’re so glad you could come,” Kate said, her voice full of warmth.

Daphne started to respond, then paused mid-hug, her expression turning curious. After a beat, she stepped back, studying Kate. A laugh escaped Kate as her cheeks began to flush. “What?” she asked, feigning innocence.

Daphne’s gaze swept the room, taking in the chaotic energy of the Bridgerton family. She caught Simon’s eye and nodded with a subtle, knowing smile. Simon’s face lit up with surprise and understanding, and he turned to clap Anthony on the back.

“Daphne!” Kate laughed, feeling both embarrassed and delighted. Without a word, it was clear Simon was now offering Anthony congratulations. Daphne hugged Kate once more, whispering as she giggled, “We’re excited to celebrate your news tonight.”

That evening, the family gathered around the formal dining table. Kate sat at one end, with Anthony positioned at the other, far across the table from her. Her fingers tapped absently, her excitement making it difficult to sit still. Mary, seated beside her, reached over, taking Kate’s hands in her own to calm her.

"You look so beautiful tonight," Mary said, brushing a hand affectionately over Kate’s cheek. "If only Edwina and Friedrich could be here."

Kate smiled. “I know. But I’m certain they’re having fun without us.”

Mary chuckled. “Perhaps they’ll return with their own announcement.” She grinned wistfully.

“Amma!” Kate’s laughter bubbled up, her cheeks warm with amusement.

At the far end of the table, Anthony rose, tapping his knife lightly against his glass. The room’s lively chatter settled as all eyes turned to him. “If I could steal a moment of your attention,” he began, his voice warm and steady. “I’m grateful to have everyone here tonight. I must say, I am relieved to have survived a season in which we were forced to host not one, not two, but three balls—thank you, Lady Danbury.”

The table broke out in laughter. Lady Danbury grinned, not at all displeased by his upset. Anthony’s gaze softened as he looked toward Kate. “And those balls were the talk of the ton, thanks to my extraordinary wife.” He raised his glass to her, his face beaming.

“I am so—” his voice cracked, and Kate could tell, even from the distance across the long table, that there were tears in his eyes. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Kate has given me…the most incredible gift.”

Hyacinth leaned forward eagerly, her face lighting up with wild ideas. “Is it a castle?”

Gregory joined in with an eager grin. “A ship?”

Benedict shook his head, chuckling. “Quiet, you two.” He nodded at Anthony encouragingly.

Anthony took another deep breath, unable to keep the excited tremble from his voice. “I’m going to be a father.”

A moment of silence fell, quickly followed by joyful chaos as everyone leapt up, moving to embrace the new parents. Anthony navigated the crowd to reach Kate, the need to hold her in his arms overwhelming him.

Later, in the quiet of their room, Kate and Anthony lay nestled together. The warmth from the evening’s celebrations lingered, casting a tender glow over them. Anthony sat back, his arm draped around her as they gazed out the window at the stars.

“That was… quite a night,” Kate murmured, a hand resting on the growing curve of her belly.

Anthony chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I’d say our news was well received.”

Kate’s laugh was soft, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles over her belly. “Yes, I’d say so.” She turned toward him, meeting his gaze, her expression warm.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low and affectionate.

Kate rolled her eyes but smiled. “Anthony,” she said, “I’ve already told you—I feel good today. There’s nothing more to say.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I meant…are you too tired?” His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her nightgown, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

Her breath hitched, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Anthony…”

He paused, meeting her gaze, his expression intent and admiring. “Are you?”

Without answering, she pulled his face to hers, kissing him deeply, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”

Gently, he pulled her nightgown off over her head, revealing her body to him. He traced the lines of her curves, his tongue and lips mapping the contours of her skin.

He paused at the swell of her belly, pressing a soft kiss to the curve. “You’ve never looked more beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. He settled between her thighs, pressing his lips softly to her center.

Kate moaned, a jolt of pleasure running through her as his tongue moved against her. The sensation was slow, deliberate, and achingly good, and she instinctively arched into him. She felt him groan with satisfaction. He looked up at her, his gaze heated.

“Kate,” he said, his voice laced with mischief.

“What?” she gasped.

“You taste incredible,” he whispered, before diving back in, his movements eager and possessive.

Kate made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a moan, her head falling back into the pillows as he brought her to the edge of pleasure with ease. “Oh, Anthony,” she whispered, her hands threading through his hair as she trembled, her body surrendering to him.

They lay in the quiet that followed, his hands twining idly with hers. Kate sighed contentedly as Anthony’s lips brushed softly over her shoulder, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine.

"I love you," she murmured, still catching her breath.

His lips curved into a soft smile against her skin. "I will never stop loving you." He kissed her shoulder once more. “Do you think it’s because of the baby?” he asked.

Kate blinked sleepily. “What do you mean?”

“You taste different.” His words were spoken with the same ease as if he were commenting on the weather, but the effect they had on her was immediate. Kate’s cheeks flushed deeply.

“Anthony!” she scolded, half-laughing, half-embarrassed.

He shrugged nonchalantly, his lips curling into a teasing grin. “I’m not complaining.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. “In fact, I rather like it.”

“Anthony!” she laughed again, the sound echoing warmly in the room as he continued to shower her with soft kisses.

Chapter Text

Kate’s study was warm with soft afternoon light, and the scent of chai curled in the air. Kate curled up on the settee, pressing a careful hand against her belly as Daphne poured them each a cup.

“You look exhausted,” Daphne observed, passing Kate a delicate china cup. “I assume my brother has been driving you mad with worry.”

Kate huffed out a tired laugh, taking a sip. “You know him well. He hovers constantly, as if watching me breathe will somehow ensure everything is fine.”

Daphne smirked. “Simon was the same when I was carrying Augie. I’d catch him just staring at me in the middle of the night, looking utterly lost.”

Kate arched a brow. “Simon? Truly?”

Daphne grinned. “Oh yes. Parenthood unraveled him entirely. He wouldn’t admit it at first, of course, but I could see it—the fear, the helplessness. And yet, the moment Augie arrived…” She trailed off, a soft, wistful look crossing her face. “It was as if he had always been meant to be a father.”

Kate set her teacup down, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Were you afraid?” she asked quietly. “When you were carrying him?”

Daphne’s expression gentled. “Terrified.”

Kate exhaled sharply, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s just… I’ve spent weeks convincing myself everything is fine, that my body knows what to do. But the sickness, the exhaustion, the waiting—it’s all so much. And when I hadn’t felt the baby move…” Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard. “I was convinced something was wrong.”

Daphne reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “That fear never truly goes away, Kate. Even now, I still wake in the night to check on Augie. But you are not alone in this.” She smiled, tilting her head. “And you are stronger than you think.”

Kate blinked against the warmth building in her eyes. “Anthony says the same thing.”

“Well, for once, my brother is right.” Daphne smirked. “He is utterly infatuated with you, you know.”

Kate let out a soft chuckle. “I do know.”

Daphne’s expression turned mischievous. “So tell me—has he attempted to read any books on childbirth yet?”

Kate groaned. “Oh, don’t even get me started…”

Anthony’s study was dimly lit, the scent of aged brandy curling in the air as Anthony leaned back in his chair. Across from him, Simon took a slow sip from his glass, his gaze steady as he studied his friend.

"You’re thinking too much," Simon finally said, breaking the silence.

Anthony huffed out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You sound like Kate.”

Simon smirked. “That’s because she’s right. And I know that look, Bridgerton.”

Anthony exhaled, his grip tightening around his glass. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Simon raised a brow. “You’re going to have to be more specific. Do what?”

Anthony hesitated. “Be a father.”

Simon studied him for a long moment before setting his glass down. “You’re already a father. The baby may not be here yet, but everything you do, every thought you have—it’s already for them.”

Anthony let out a slow breath. “I don’t want to fail them.”

Simon’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I spent months convincing myself I would fail Augie,” he admitted. “I thought I’d be just like my father—cold, distant, incapable of love.” He shook his head, his voice quieter now. “But the moment I held him for the first time… I knew. It didn’t matter what kind of father I’d had. I wasn’t him. And you aren’t your father, Anthony.”

Anthony swallowed hard. “I was lucky to have my father for the years I did. But I remember what it was like after he was gone. The loss of him shaped everything.” His voice wavered slightly, and he let out a slow breath before admitting, “I don’t want my child to ever feel that kind of pain.”

Simon was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Neither do I. But we can’t control everything, Anthony. We can only be there for them now—every moment, every day. And you? You are already the kind of father who worries, who loves, who cares. That is what matters.”

Anthony let the words settle, staring into his glass. “I just want to be enough.”

Simon’s smirk returned, though it was gentler this time. “If you ask Kate, you’re too much.”

Anthony exhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I just—” He hesitated. “She’s been so sick, Simon. And when she didn’t feel the baby move for so long, I could see how scared she was, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. And now, even though we know everything is fine, I still can’t shake the feeling that something could go wrong.”

Simon nodded. “You’re not alone in that, you know.”

Anthony looked up, his brows furrowing.

Simon glanced toward the fireplace, swirling the brandy in his glass. “I still check on Augie in the middle of the night. Sometimes I wake up in a panic, convinced something is wrong, and I have to see him breathing just to quiet my own mind.” His smirk faded into something quieter, something more vulnerable. “The fear never really goes away, Anthony. But neither does the love. The joy.”

Anthony swallowed around the tightness in his throat. He hadn’t expected to hear that—not from Simon, who had once been so determined never to have children.

Simon met his gaze, his voice steady. “You’re going to be a great father. And if you ever start doubting it—well, you know where to find me.”

Anthony huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re a better friend than I deserve.”

“That’s true. But I won’t hold it against you.” Simon smirked, lifting his glass. “To fatherhood.”

Anthony chuckled, clinking his glass against Simon’s. “To fatherhood.”

Chapter Text

Kate lay in bed, the damp cloth pressed to her forehead doing little to quell the unrelenting nausea that gripped her. Each passing day seemed to sap more of her strength, leaving her too weak to sit up without dizziness overtaking her. Newton sprawled heavily across her legs, snoring softly, his warm weight a small comfort amidst her discomfort. Beside her, Anthony sat perched on the edge of the bed, his brow deeply furrowed as he held her hand in both of his, his thumbs tracing anxious, repetitive circles over her knuckles.

“Kate,” he murmured, his voice thick with worry. “Are you absolutely certain we shouldn’t call for the doctor again? You haven’t been able to keep anything down all day. This isn’t normal.”

Her lips curved into a faint, weary smile as she turned her head toward him. “We’ve already seen him twice this week, darling,” she reminded him gently. “He said everything was progressing as it should.”

“But you’re suffering,” Anthony pressed, his tone almost desperate now. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing while you—” His voice broke off, and he dropped his gaze to their joined hands, his grip tightening slightly.

“Anthony,” she whispered, her voice as soothing as her strength would allow. She tugged on his hand lightly until he met her eyes again. “I promise, I’ll tell you if I feel worse. For now, there’s nothing to be done except wait.”

His jaw worked as if he wanted to argue, but before he could, a soft knock interrupted them. Violet entered, carrying a tray of tea and broth, her face composed and calm. She set the tray down on the bedside table and perched on the bed beside Anthony. Placing a gentle hand on his arm, she waited until he turned to look at her.

“Anthony, dear,” Violet said softly, “I know it’s hard to see her like this. But I can tell you from experience that pregnancy is simply difficult at times. It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong. It’s just Kate’s body adjusting to the extraordinary work it’s doing.”

Kate offered Violet a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Violet,” she said, though her tone wavered with exhaustion. “Though sometimes it feels like this ‘extraordinary work’ is trying to undo me.”

Violet chuckled softly, smoothing a hand over Kate’s forehead. “I know it feels that way. I was sick almost every day with you, Anthony. You were determined to make yourself known right from the start.”

Anthony’s head snapped toward his mother, his eyes widening. “Were you this sick?”

Violet nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “And with every one of your siblings, though you were particularly demanding.” She reached over to pat his hand. “It will pass, Anthony. I promise.”

Anthony’s shoulders remained tense, his gaze still fixed on Kate. Her fingers brushed his knuckles weakly, trying to reassure him.

“You hear that?” she murmured, her voice soft but teasing. “Even as a baby, you caused trouble.”

Anthony huffed, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Apparently, I’m to blame for your misery as well.”

“Not misery,” she said quietly. “Just… an adjustment.”

Violet leaned over to kiss Kate’s forehead before doing the same to Anthony. “I’ll leave you two to rest,” she said softly, excusing herself from the room.

Once they were alone, Anthony shifted closer to Kate, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead. “I don’t like this,” he admitted quietly, his voice raw. “I don’t like seeing you like this and knowing there’s nothing I can do.”

Kate smiled faintly, though her heart ached at the helplessness in his tone. “You’re doing plenty,” she assured him. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

He shook his head, his frustration evident. “It doesn’t feel like enough. If I could take this from you—if I could be the one to feel this instead—I would. In a heartbeat.”

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she cupped his cheek with trembling fingers. “I know you would,” she whispered. “But this is just… part of it. And it’s worth it, Anthony. Every moment of this will be worth it when we meet our child.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, leaning into her touch before pressing a kiss to her palm. “You’re so strong, Kate. You’re…marvelous.”

She gave a soft laugh, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “I don’t feel very marvelous at the moment.”

“To me, you are,” he said firmly, his gaze steady and unwavering. He gestured to the tray his mother had brought. “Will you try to eat? For me?”

Kate nodded, and he moved to help her sit up, shifting Newton to the edge of the bed. The dog gave an indignant harumph, shooting Anthony an unimpressed look before circling and resettling himself. Anthony shook his head at the dog’s theatrics, muttering, “Even Newton is more helpful than I am.”

Kate let out a breathy laugh and leaned briefly against his shoulder as she gathered her strength. “Don’t be ridiculous. Newton doesn’t bring me broth or fuss over me every minute of the day.”

Anthony didn’t respond, but his lips brushed her temple before he guided the spoon to her mouth.

After a few sips, he set the bowl aside. “Kate,” he began quietly, “I’ve been thinking. I want to raise our child in the country, at Aubrey Hall.”

Her lips curved faintly. “Nothing would make me happier,” she said softly. Then, studying his expression, she asked, “Is something wrong with that plan?”

He hesitated, frowning slightly. “There may be times when my duties will keep me in London… when I’ll have to be away from you, perhaps for days at a time.”

“Oh.” Kate’s stomach tightened with unspoken understanding. They had discussed this before, in the quiet of their pillow talk, but then it had seemed so far off—an issue for a distant future.

“Benedict has agreed to help out as much as he can,” Anthony continued, brushing another strand of hair from her face. “But I can’t always pass my responsibilities to him.”

“I understand,” Kate murmured softly, her mind turning over the quiet possibilities. They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in thought.

“What do you think?” Anthony asked, breaking the stillness.

“Aubrey Hall is the perfect place for our family,” she replied. Her eyes softened as she met his gaze. “I think I’d like to go, even if it means you might have to leave sometimes.”

His smile deepened, and he kissed her gently. “I couldn’t agree more. My childhood there was… idyllic.” He smiled to himself, momentarily lost in the past. Then, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to be with you as much as possible. I’ll ride through the night if it means being home sooner.”

Kate laughed softly. “I don’t doubt it.” She sighed contentedly. “Idyllic... that’s exactly how I’d describe Aubrey Hall.” Her eyes closed as she imagined the orangery, its warmth filling her with a sense of home.

Anthony nodded, his smile lingering as he looked at her, his voice soft with certainty. “I want our child to have that same life—running wild, filling the halls with laughter.” He squeezed her hand. “A carefree childhood, full of love.”

Kate felt a lump form in her throat, and her eyes stung with sudden tears. She’d been emotional lately, but she was sure that even without the pregnancy making her more tearful, the sincerity in his words would have been enough to make her cry anyway.

Chapter Text

The drawing room was bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun, and the air was warm with the scent of lavender and bergamot from the tea that had been set out, but none of them had moved to pour a cup.

Kate sat curled against Anthony, her legs stretched across his lap, the hem of her dress pushed up just enough to allow his warm hands to knead slow, soothing circles into her swollen ankles. She sighed in pleasure, her head resting against the curve of the sofa.

“You’re spoiling her,” Simon remarked, watching as Anthony’s fingers worked a particularly tight spot just above Kate’s ankle.

Anthony, without looking up, smirked. “Of course I am.”

Daphne chuckled as she nestled closer to Simon on the settee across from them, stretching out her own legs. “I think it’s well-earned,” she said lightly. “I certainly would have loved this kind of devotion when I was expecting.”

Simon turned to her with a mock look of offense. “Excuse me? Did I not dote upon you?”

Daphne arched an eyebrow. “You did, but you weren’t exactly rubbing my ankles at every available moment.”

Simon scoffed. “That is a bold accusation, Your Grace.”

Daphne grinned before turning back to Kate, her expression softening. “How are you feeling today?”

Kate sighed, rolling her head slightly to the side. “Better than the other day, certainly. Though my ankles are miserable, and I feel like my center of gravity has completely changed.”

“That’s because it has,” Daphne said with an understanding smile. “Your body is adjusting to carrying another life.”

Kate absently stroked her belly, feeling a deep, quiet contentment at the simple truth in that statement. “Was it like this for you?”

Daphne hummed thoughtfully. “In some ways, yes. Others, not at all. I was terribly dizzy my first few months, and then I developed the most peculiar longings. One night, I made Simon search half of London for peaches in the middle of winter.”

Kate let out a small laugh. “And did you find them?”

Simon sighed dramatically, as if recalling a great trial. “I did. Had to spend quite a bit just to find them, let alone buy them. But my wife was happy, so I suppose it was worth it.”

Anthony shook his head with an amused scoff. “This is what I have to look forward to, then?”

Kate nudged him lightly with her foot. “Be grateful I haven’t demanded anything unreasonable.”

“Yet,” Simon muttered, earning himself a playful slap on the arm from Daphne.

Daphne laughed before turning back to Kate, her expression soft with something like fond remembrance. “Every pregnancy is different. Because every baby is different. My symptoms were not my mother’s, and yours will not be mine. Your little one is making their own unique way into being.”

Kate blinked, her breath catching slightly at the thought. Her child was already their own person, already shaping the way they entered this world. The idea filled her with a comfort she hadn’t expected.

“That’s… a very lovely way of looking at it,” she murmured, smiling at Daphne.

Daphne squeezed her hand lightly. “It helped me when I worried. And I did worry, as I’m sure you do. But all will be well, Kate. You’re doing beautifully.”

Anthony’s hand stilled against her leg for a moment, then resumed his slow, tender strokes. He felt Kate relax, saw the way her shoulders dropped slightly as she took in Daphne’s words.

Simon, always one to change the subject when things became too sentimental for his liking, leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “It’s strange to think that the next time we’re all together, your little one will be here.”

Anthony pressed a kiss to Kate’s forehead, his hand slipping up from her ankle to rub gentle circles along her calf. “I can hardly wait.”

Simon smirked. “You say that now. Just wait until the baby arrives and you don’t sleep for three months straight.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Kate, resting her head more comfortably against his shoulder, let out a soft, contented hum. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t just anticipating what was to come—she was looking forward to it.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the Bridgerton drawing room, bathing the space in warm, golden light. The tea service had been arranged on the low table before the settee, delicate porcelain cups resting beside an array of biscuits and cakes, though Kate had little interest in the offerings. She was curled up against the corner of the settee, a soft blanket draped over her legs, her entire body drowsy from exhaustion.

Anthony sat beside her, his arm stretched along the back of the settee, his fingers occasionally skimming over her shoulder in idle affection. He was speaking with Benedict and Colin about something or other—Kate had long since stopped listening. Instead, she let her head rest lightly against Anthony’s shoulder, her eyes half-lidded as she basked in the simple comfort of the moment.

Violet, seated across from them, set down her teacup with a smile. “Ah,” she mused, unfolding the crisp newsprint in her lap. “It seems our joyful news has made Whistledown.”

Kate’s eyes fluttered open at that, curiosity stirring, while Eloise, perched in an armchair by the hearth, stiffened almost imperceptibly. “Oh?” she said, carefully casual. “It’s unlike Whistledown to write about anything other than gossip.”

Violet chuckled, smoothing the paper before clearing her throat. “Well, she’s made an exception. Shall I read it?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, merely lifted the sheet and began:

It is with the greatest delight that this author extends her warmest congratulations to one of the ton’s most beloved couples. But truly, was there anyone in Mayfair who did not already suspect?

Yes, dear reader, it is official: the Bridgertons shall be welcoming a new addition before the year is out. A most joyous occasion, indeed! And while Viscount Bridgerton may fancy himself a man of logic and control, let us not pretend that his adoring gaze and perpetual hovering over his wife have not given him away long before this formal revelation.

Truly, has there ever been a husband more besotted? He watches his wife as though she is the sole star in his sky, and if rumor is to be believed, he has taken to rubbing her feet at every possible moment. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!

It is a curious thing, to witness a man once so determinedly unattached transform into the very picture of devoted domesticity. And yet, one cannot help but approve of the change—for if this is what true love can do, then perhaps even the most roguish rake may have a chance.

Let this be a lesson to all of Mayfair: when a Bridgerton loves, they love completely. One should be so lucky to find themselves the object of a Bridgerton’s affection. And though this author can only watch from afar, she finds herself truly, deeply happy for them.

The room was momentarily silent as the words settled over them.

Then, predictably, chaos erupted. Colin let out a loud bark of laughter. “Oh, this is perfect.”

Benedict grinned. “Well, she’s certainly captured the essence of Anthony these days.”

“I knew you rubbed her feet!” Hyacinth crowed triumphantly. “I told you all!”

Anthony groaned, dragging a hand down his face, while Kate shook with laughter, her body rocking gently against his side. “I rather like this article,” she mused, tilting her head to press a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek.

Anthony sighed dramatically. “Of course you do.”

Violet set the paper down and turned to Kate with a warm smile. “It is a lovely piece,” she said kindly. “She sounds quite happy for you.”

Kate’s fingers curled around Anthony’s where they rested together. “It is quite sweet,” she admitted softly. Then, glancing up at her husband with a teasing smile, she added, “Even if she did put your foot-rubbing habit in print for the entire ton.”

Anthony huffed, rolling his eyes, but his thumb skimmed lightly over her knuckles. “I don’t regret it.”

Eloise blinked rapidly, shoving the emotions down before anyone could see them. Then, schooling her face into something neutral, she picked up her cup and forced herself to speak in the same dry, unaffected tone as before.

“Well,” she said after a beat. “I suppose Whistledown has a sentimental streak after all.”

Colin quirked a brow at her. “And here I thought you’d be scandalized that she’s writing about something other than gossip.”

Eloise forced a smirk. “What can I say? Even Whistledown must have her moments of decency.” She reached for her teacup, gripping the porcelain tighter than necessary. Her fingers ached from the pressure, but she didn’t loosen her hold.

No one questioned her further, the conversation flowing onward. But as the others laughed and chatted around her, Eloise remained quiet, her thoughts a tangled mess.

Chapter Text

Kate was certain she had never been this exhausted in her entire life.

Not after the endless days of London’s social season. Not after riding Maverick halfway across Aubrey Hall’s property last summer. Not even after their wedding night—though, admittedly, that exhaustion had been quite pleasant.

No, this was a bone-deep, soul-draining, utterly unfair level of fatigue. She was completely done, her body declaring mutiny, her limbs refusing to function as anything other than dead weight against the pillows.

She had managed, just barely, to stay upright through breakfast. By mid-morning, however, he had taken one look at her pale, drawn face and promptly escorted her back to bed. That had been fine. That had even been appreciated.

But that had been three hours ago. And Anthony was still here. Hovering. Fussing. Adjusting her pillows every ten minutes as though they were some critical factor in the miracle of modern medicine.

"How is your head?" he asked for the third time in as many minutes, smoothing his palm across her forehead.

Kate, flat on her back and entirely unimpressed, gave him a flat stare. "Still attached, though at this rate, I may remove it just to get some peace."

Anthony did not look amused. "You're warm."

"I'm pregnant."

"You should have more tea."

"I hate tea right now."

His mouth flattened into a disapproving line. “Then perhaps some broth—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Anthony,” she groaned, flopping one arm dramatically over her eyes. “If you offer me one more thing, I swear I shall expire.”

Before Anthony could launch into a protest about how one does not simply expire, the door swung open without ceremony, and in strolled Benedict and Colin, looking, as always, like the harbingers of mischief.

“Oh, excellent, she’s still alive,” Colin declared, taking in the scene with open amusement. “We were beginning to fear Anthony had smothered you under the weight of his concern.”

Anthony shot him a glare. “She needs rest.”

“Yes, and you need to let her have it,” Benedict countered, strolling to the bedside and looking down at Kate with a sympathetic smile. “He’s been like this all morning, hasn’t he?”

Kate, despite her absolute exhaustion, managed a pitiful pout. “He won’t leave.”

“Mm. Tragic.” Benedict turned to Colin. “Would you say this qualifies as a dire situation?”

“Absolutely.”

“A crisis, even.”

Colin nodded solemnly. “One that requires intervention.”

Before Anthony could react, Colin and Benedict each grabbed an arm and bodily hauled him away from the bed.

“What the bloody hell—”

“Oh, do stop fighting it, Anthony,” Colin sighed, barely breaking a sweat as he wrestled his older brother toward the door. “We’re doing this for your own good.”

Benedict grinned. “And Kate’s. Mostly Kate’s.”

Anthony was livid. “She is ill—”

“She is tired,” Colin corrected. “And I cannot begin to imagine why, given that her husband has been breathing down her neck all morning.”

Kate, shaking with laughter against the pillows, gasped out, “Take him!”

Anthony’s eyes darted back to her, his expression utterly betrayed. “Kate—”

“She has spoken,” Benedict said gravely. “The lady has decreed.”

Kate waved a weak but enthusiastic hand in the air. “I decree!”

With that, the Bridgerton brothers manhandled their eldest sibling out the door, ignoring his muttered threats and half-hearted struggles.

Just before they disappeared into the hall, Colin turned back with a wink. “Sleep well, dearest sister. We’ll be sure to keep your overprotective husband thoroughly occupied.”

“And very, very drunk,” Benedict added.

Anthony roared something unintelligible, which was promptly muffled by the sound of the door slamming shut behind them.

Kate, still wheezing with laughter, flopped back against the pillows, wiping at her damp eyes.

God, she loved those fools. And with that, blessed silence descended. Kate sighed in relief, letting her body relax into the mattress, her limbs sinking into the warmth of the covers.

She managed approximately five minutes of blissful rest before Newton, sensing a shift in the balance of power, leapt onto the bed and sprawled across her legs with a victorious huff. Kate groaned. Apparently, everyone in this household was determined to smother her.

Chapter Text

Kate sat in the armchair by her bedroom window, still dressed in her soft cotton nightgown, her legs curled beneath her. For the first time in days, she felt like herself again. The fatigue that had gripped her so relentlessly had loosened its hold, and her body, though still weary, no longer felt like a battleground.

She sipped at a glass of cool water, relishing the simple act. The relief coursing through her was almost overwhelming, and she felt a small smile tug at her lips. It had passed, just as Violet and the doctor said. She could endure this, she realized. She could do this.

The door creaked open, and Anthony stepped inside, his gaze immediately finding her. He carried a tray with a plate of toast and a dish of strawberries, his expression a mixture of hope and caution.

“You’re out of bed,” he said, with surprise and relief in his voice. “How are you feeling?” He set the tray down on the small table beside her, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort.

“Better,” she said, her smile widening. “So much better.”

The tension in his shoulders visibly eased. “Good,” he murmured, crouching in front of her. “You gave me quite a scare this week.”

Kate chuckled softly, setting the glass down and reaching for his hand. “I know. You’ve been hovering more than Newton, and that’s saying something.” At the sound of his name, Newton, sitting at Kate’s feet, gave a quiet huff.

“I can’t help it,” Anthony admitted, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “You’ve been so sick, Kate. I hated seeing you like that.”

Her fingers tightened around his. “I know, my love. But I’m feeling so much better today. Truly.”

Anthony studied her, his brow furrowed as if he didn’t entirely trust her words. But when her smile didn’t waver, he exhaled and nodded.

After she had eaten a few bites of toast and most of the strawberries, Anthony gently guided her back to the bed.

“You still need your rest, even if you feel better,” he insisted, pulling back the covers for her.

She frowned but allowed him to tuck her in. “I know you have work to do. But can you stay with me a while?”

His smile was immediate, and he slid in beside her without hesitation, his arm slipping instinctively around her waist. Kate rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She felt alive in a way she hadn’t in weeks, a spark of energy and contentment stirring within her.

They lay in companionable silence, the warmth of his body grounding her. After a moment, Kate tilted her face up to look at him.

“Anthony,” she murmured.

“Yes, love?”

She shifted slightly, pressing her lips to his jawline. “I was thinking... since I’m feeling better, perhaps we should take advantage of this moment.”

Anthony stilled beneath her, his arm tightening protectively around her. “Kate,” he said slowly, his voice laced with concern, “you’ve been so unwell. I don’t want to push you too far.”

“You’re not pushing me,” she replied, her voice soft but insistent. She propped herself up on one elbow, her free hand trailing lightly over his chest. “I feel good. And I want you.”

He swallowed hard, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek. “Are you sure? I don’t want to risk—”

She silenced him with a kiss, slow and lingering, her fingers curling into his shirt. When she pulled back, her gaze met his, steady and full of quiet confidence.

“I’m sure,” she whispered. “I feel like myself again. Let me have this, Anthony. Let us have this.”

His hesitation melted under her gaze, and his lips curved into a small, tender smile. “You’re impossible to argue with,” he said, his voice tinged with affection.

“Good,” she teased, leaning down to kiss him again. Her lips moved against his, soft and inviting. “Make love to me, Anthony.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his hands sliding to her waist as he pulled her closer. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured against her, the vulnerability in his voice making her heart ache.

“You won’t,” she promised, her fingers threading through his hair. “Trust me, I feel stronger than I have in days.”

Anthony searched her face for a long moment, his hand stroking down her back in a slow, deliberate motion. Then, as if reassured by the brightness in her eyes and the strength in her touch, he kissed her with a fervor that sent a shiver through her.

They moved together with a newfound tenderness. Anthony’s touch was reverent, as though he was rediscovering her, his hands mapping her curves with care. Their lovemaking was slow and deliberate, and when they finally lay tangled together, the morning light had shifted into the gentle hues of afternoon.

Anthony kissed Kate’s forehead as she began to fall asleep, trying to slip away without waking her.

“Where are you going?” she asked, stirring.

“I have work to finish,” he said, kissing her forehead again. “I’m sorry. I’d love nothing more than to stay in bed with you.”

She laughed softly. “I know you would.” She reached out to grab his hand, tugging him back to kiss him deeply. “Come back to me as soon as you can?”

“Always,” he said. She watched him dress, a lazy smile on her face as she fell asleep.

Anthony closed the door to their bedroom gently behind him, his lips still tingling from Kate’s kiss. His mind was a pleasant haze as he wandered toward the drawing room, hoping to grab a cup of tea before tackling the work he’d left unfinished.

The soft hum of conversation drifted down the hallway, and as he stepped into the room, the cheerful buzz of his family’s voices greeted him. A table laden with pastries and a steaming pot of tea sat temptingly by the window, and Anthony made a beeline for it, oblivious to the eyes tracking his every move.

“Good heavens,” Eloise’s voice broke through his thoughts, a tone of mock incredulity laced with amusement. “Is that really Anthony?”

Anthony froze, teapot in hand, his head snapping toward the group. Eloise leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I take it Kate is feeling better today?”

Anthony cleared his throat, setting the teapot down with deliberate precision. “She is,” he said, his voice measured despite the warmth creeping up his neck. “How did you guess?”

“You were humming when you walked in,” Violet said, grinning at her son.

“And smiling,” added Hyacinth with a smirk. “You haven’t done that in days. You’ve been absolutely dreadful to be around, by the way.”

“Not to mention your vest is misbuttoned,” Colin muttered from behind his newspaper, his tone maddeningly casual. Anthony glanced down, his flush deepening as he realized Colin was right. With a curse, he turned to fix it, his fingers fumbling with the buttons as the sound of his siblings’ laughter filled the room.

“Leave him alone,” Violet chided gently, though her smile betrayed her own amusement. “What a relief it is to hear Kate is well. We’ve all been worried.”

Anthony’s hands stilled for a moment as he turned to look at her, his expression softening. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “She’s resting now, but she’s feeling much better today.”

“I’ll bet she is,” Colin quipped, his sly grin barely hidden behind his teacup. Benedict grinned, turning to clink his cup with Colin’s.

“Do you all have nothing better to do?” Anthony asked, his exasperation tempered by the warmth in his tone.

“Not really,” Benedict said cheerfully. “It’s far more entertaining to watch you blush.”

As the conversation shifted to other topics, Anthony quietly filled his cup with tea, a faint smile lingering on his face. His thoughts drifted back to Kate—her laughter, her touch, the way her eyes sparkled when she teased him.

“Still humming,” Eloise said slyly. “If we’re not careful, he might start singing next.”

Chapter Text

Kate sat in the drawing room, her hands resting lightly over the gentle swell of her belly. Newton was sprawled at her feet, snoring softly. The windows were open, letting in the warm summer breeze that carried the scent of blooming roses from the garden. She had been looking forward to this visit all day—her mother had sent a note that morning saying she would stop by for tea.

When Mary entered the room, Kate’s face lit up, and she rose to embrace her.

“Sit, sit,” Mary urged, guiding Kate to the settee. “You look well, darling. How are you feeling?”

“Better now,” she answered honestly. “I was sick to my stomach all week, and so exhausted. I had no idea it would be like this.”

Mary chuckled. “Yes, motherhood certainly comes with its challenges.”

They sat in companionable silence for a moment. Kate smiled at Mary.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried I wouldn’t get to see you before we left.”

Mary smiled warmly, taking Kate’s hands in hers. “And where exactly are you leaving for, my darling?”

Kate spoke with quiet excitement. “Anthony and I have decided to raise our family at Aubrey Hall. We’re going to move to the countryside.”

Mary’s expression softened, and her grip on Kate’s hands tightened briefly. “That sounds wonderful, Kate. Aubrey Hall is a beautiful estate. I imagine it will be the perfect place for children.”

Kate smiled and leaned forward, hesitating a little before she asked, “I was wondering…would you consider coming to stay with us while we wait for the baby? I’d love to have you there.”

Before Mary could respond, Anthony’s voice cut in as he entered the room, his timing impeccable as always. “Not just to visit, Mary,” he said. “You’re welcome to live with us permanently. I think Kate would appreciate having you close as we build our family.”

Mary looked up, surprised, but Anthony wasn’t finished. He walked over and pressed a kiss to Kate’s temple before turning to Mary with a teasing smile. “Of course, we’d make sure you have your own wing of the house—far away from my siblings and their chaos.”

Mary blinked. “Anthony…” she said softly. “That’s…incredibly generous of you.”

Kate was overwhelmed. She hadn’t expected Anthony to extend such an invitation, but it was exactly what she’d secretly wanted. She turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears, and her heart swelled with love for the man who always seemed to know what she needed, even before she did.

“Anthony,” she murmured, gazing at him with a tearful smile.

Anthony frowned in confusion. “What did I do now?”

Kate laughed through her tears, wiping her eyes. “I’m just—oh, I’ve been so emotional lately!”

Mary chuckled, reaching over to pat Kate’s hand. “It’s nice to see you crying because you’re in love and happy, my dear. It suits you far better than all the tears you used to cry out of worry.”

Kate sniffled and smiled, then took a deep breath. Anthony offered her his handkerchief, but she waved it off, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

Mary smiled at the exchange. “When are you leaving?”

“We’re planning to leave in a few days,” said Anthony.

Mary blinked. “So soon?”

Kate nodded. “There’s still time. You can take a few weeks to join us if you need. I want you to have time to prepare.”

Mary hesitated, her cheeks pinking slightly. Kate’s sharp eyes didn’t miss it. She leaned forward with a knowing smile. “Amma,” she said teasingly, “your friend from Prussia—he’s visiting London soon, isn’t he?”

Mary’s blush deepened, and she looked away for a moment. “He is,” she admitted softly. “But if you want me in Kent, Kate, I’ll come right away. You are my priority.”

Kate’s heart ached at her mother’s devotion, but she shook her head earnestly. “No. I want you to stay here.” She paused, glancing at Anthony. “If there’s a chance you might find love again, you should take it. It would mean the world to me to see you happy. You deserve that.”

Anthony reached over and squeezed her hand, his silent support bolstering her words.

Mary’s eyes glistened, and she smiled warmly at her daughter. “Are you sure, Kate?”

Kate nodded. “I’m certain.”

Mary reached out to cradle Kate’s face gently. “Thank you, my darling. I’ll stay for now, but you must promise to write to me at least weekly. And be honest in your letters—if you need me, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I promise,” Kate said, her voice thick with emotion.

Anthony turned to Mary with a serious expression. “You have my word, Mary. I’ll take care of her.”

Mary smiled. “I know you will.”

That was all it took. The floodgates opened, and Kate dissolved into tears once more, laughing helplessly through the onslaught of emotion. “I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, burying her face in her hands. “I’m just so happy.”

Chapter Text

Kate lay on her back, staring at the canopy above their bed, wide awake. No matter how much she shifted, adjusted the pillows, or willed herself into slumber, sleep stubbornly refused to come.

Beside her, Anthony stirred, the warmth of her restlessness pulling him from sleep. He hummed low in his throat, his arm tightening instinctively around her waist as he buried his face against her shoulder.

“What’s the matter?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing,” Kate whispered, though she felt him stiffen slightly at the hesitation in her voice.

Anthony’s eyes blinked open, and he lifted his head slightly. “Kate,” he said more clearly now, his fingers tracing light, absentminded circles over her hip. “Tell me.”

She bit her lip, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “It’s not important.”

His hand stilled. Kate sighed, knowing he wouldn’t let it go. “It’s just…” She hesitated, then exhaled heavily. “I can’t stop thinking about dinner.”

Anthony blinked. “Dinner?”

She turned her head to look at him, her expression half-exasperated, half-sheepish. “Yes. Dinner.”

Anthony stared at her for a long moment before realization dawned. He sat up slightly, propping himself on one elbow. “Wait—has my expectant wife developed a fancy for something?”

She groaned and covered her face with her hands, already regretting telling him. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely making it a thing.” He reached over, prying her hands away with ease. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s keeping you up at this ungodly hour?”

Kate huffed, staring at the ceiling. “The roasted potatoes.”

Anthony blinked. “The potatoes?”

“Yes.” Kate turned to look at him again, eyes pleading now. “Do you think there are any left?”

Anthony let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “You mean to tell me you’re losing sleep over potatoes?”

Kate whined, burying her face against his chest. “I can’t help it! They were so good, Anthony.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I see no other option, then,” he declared dramatically, throwing back the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Kate sat up, startled. “Wait—what are you doing?”

Anthony turned to her, lips twitching. “I’m going to the kitchen, of course. I’ve been married to you long enough to know that if you want something, I’d best make sure you get it.”

Kate hesitated for only a moment before scrambling out of bed after him. “I’m coming with you.”

They padded quietly through the dark halls of Bridgerton House, Anthony’s hand finding hers as they made their way downstairs, stifling laughter whenever a floorboard creaked beneath them.

Once in the kitchen, Kate immediately went searching while Anthony leaned back against the counter, watching in amusement as she checked cupboards and lifted dish covers with single-minded determination.

Finally, she let out a triumphant gasp. “Aha!”

Anthony smirked as she pulled a small dish from the larder, revealing a few leftover roasted potatoes from dinner, cold and unseasoned.

Kate eagerly grabbed one, sighing in pure satisfaction the moment she took a bite.

Anthony, meanwhile, just watched, his face caught between amusement and adoration.

She caught him staring a moment later, her brow arching as she swallowed. “What?”

He shook his head, his smile softening. “I just love seeing you happy,” he murmured. “And feeling well.”

Kate’s heart squeezed at the tenderness in his voice. She set her half-eaten potato down on a plate and stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I am happy,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his bare chest. “Because of you.”

Anthony exhaled softly, his hands smoothing over her back. “Well,” he murmured, his lips grazing the top of her head. “As long as I exist, you will never go without your longings.”

Kate laughed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Good.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss her. “Now, finish your snack, sweetheart. I went through great lengths for this midnight adventure.”

Kate grinned, turning and humming in satisfaction as she took another bite. Anthony watched as her eyes flickered with something he couldn’t quite place.

“What is it?” he asked.

She hesitated. “Don’t laugh.”

Anthony’s brows knit together in confusion. He watched as Kate disappeared for a moment, rummaging in the pantry, and returning with jars of clotted cream and blackberry jam.

“Kate, no,” he said, mildly horrified, as she spooned a generous amount of each onto the remaining piece of potato.

She took a large bite, her eyes closing in delight and relief. “Oh, that’s perfect.”

Anthony shook his head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous.”

She glared at him playfully. “Do not make fun of me. This is what your son wants, not me.”

His eyes softened and he pushed himself off the counter, moving forward to wrap her in his arms. “Whether it’s for you, for them,” he said, placing his palm against her belly, “I will make sure we always have whatever you desire.”

Kate smiled and kissed him before stepping back and popping the last bite into her mouth. Then she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the stairs. “Come on, Viscount. You need your rest. I can’t have my husband falling asleep at the breakfast table.”

Chapter Text

In the quiet morning light filtering through Bridgerton House, the staff prepared for Kate and Anthony to leave for Aubrey Hall. Their trunks were nearly packed, and the last-minute details were all but settled when Violet appeared in the doorway of their bedroom, her arms laden with a large, lovingly worn wooden crate.

“Kate, dear,” she called softly, a tender smile on her face as she approached. “I have something for you.”

Kate glanced at the crate curiously as Violet set it down with a slight sigh. The box was adorned with delicate carvings and, though weathered, was clearly cherished. She saw a faint gleam of nostalgia in Violet’s eyes, and her curiosity grew.

“This…” Violet paused, her gaze softening as she looked down at the crate, her fingers tracing its edges, “is filled with memories of my boys’ earliest days. It’s been waiting here all these years for when it would be needed again.”

Kate’s eyes widened, her hand instinctively finding her belly as Violet lifted the lid. Inside, nestled carefully among linens, were tiny garments—soft cotton and delicate lace, a collection of lovingly preserved baby clothes, each one clearly well-used yet beautifully kept.

Kate reached out, fingers brushing a small, impossibly delicate gown, adorned with simple embroidery around the collar. She looked up at Violet, a catch in her breath. “These are…?”

Violet nodded, her smile trembling slightly as she watched Kate’s awe-stricken face. “These were worn by all my sons—and yes, even Anthony. This,” she said, picking up a tiny christening gown with a reverence that made Kate’s heart ache, “this was Anthony’s. He wore it on his christening day. Edmund and I had it made especially for him.”

Kate reached for the tiny christening gown, her fingers brushing the soft, lace-trimmed fabric. She pictured Anthony as a baby, his chubby cheeks and bright eyes reflecting the same determination she saw in him now. A lump formed in her throat as her hand instinctively settled on her belly.

“I can hardly imagine him this small,” Kate whispered, her voice catching.

Violet chuckled softly, her eyes glimmering with tears. “He was a loud baby. He had this way of making his displeasure known to the entire household. But when he laughed…” She paused, her expression softening. “He sounded just like Edmund. It was the sweetest sound.”

Kate’s gaze softened as she looked at Violet. She realized how much these memories meant to her mother-in-law—how they kept Edmund alive in the quiet corners of her heart. “I promise to cherish these,” Kate said quietly, holding the gown close. “Thank you, Violet. For sharing this with me.”

Violet’s eyes shimmered as she reached over, her hand resting gently on Kate’s shoulder. “I never thought I’d be blessed with such a family,” she murmured, a tear slipping down her cheek. “And now, to see my son—my eldest—bringing home a child of his own, with someone who loves him so dearly…”

Kate looked up, her own tears falling freely now. She reached for Violet’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I didn’t think I’d ever have a family like this,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought… I thought it wasn’t meant for me.” Her hand rested protectively over her stomach as she glanced down, blinking through her tears. “And now, to have you and Anthony and… and this little one on the way… it feels like a dream.”

Violet’s hand cupped Kate’s cheek, her thumb gently wiping away a tear. “You’ve made him so happy, Kate. You’ve brought him peace, love… things I worried he might never find.” Her voice broke, and she laughed softly, dabbing at her eyes. “And I’m so very grateful that my son found someone as kind and strong as you.”

Kate felt her own heart ache with emotion, and for a moment, she let herself lean into Violet’s embrace, feeling the warmth and strength of the woman who had given her so much—a home, a family, a mother’s love.

After a few moments, they pulled back, both of them smiling through their tears. Violet reached into the crate once more, pulling out a soft, knitted bonnet. She placed it gently in Kate’s hands. “I know you’ll have your own things made, but I’d be so very honored if you would take these. For all my sons, Aubrey Hall was their first home… their first comfort. And I’d love to share that with you.”

Kate looked down at the tiny bonnet, her chest tight with gratitude. She nodded, words momentarily eluding her. “I… I can’t thank you enough,” she finally managed, her voice catching.

Anthony appeared in the doorway. His gaze swept over the scene—the crate of baby clothes, Violet’s wistful expression, and Kate’s tear-streaked face. He hesitated for a moment before stepping fully into the room.

"Mother, are you making my wife cry?" he said lightly, though the concern in his tone was unmistakable as he moved to Kate’s side.

Kate laughed softly, wiping at her eyes. “It’s all your fault, Anthony,” she teased, glancing up at him. “This baby of yours has made me so emotional.”

Anthony grinned, the mention of their baby still bringing a light to his face.

“That makes sense,” Violet murmured. “A sensitive man makes for a sensitive baby.” She laughed as Anthony scowled.

Kate laughed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know that I’d call Anthony a sensitive man. He’s getting there, maybe.”

"Oh, he was always a soft-hearted boy," Violet teased. Anthony flushed slightly, glancing at his mother, who gave him a knowing smile. "As a man, he’s just learned how to hide it better."

Kate grinned at Anthony, her heart swelling with both affection and amusement. "Well, I do quite like this tender side of him," she said softly, her gaze lingering on him with love.

Anthony rolled his eyes but smiled, clearly charmed. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, his voice tender. "It’s only for you, Kate."

Violet, unable to resist, gave a soft, dramatic sigh. "I wish your father could see you, Anthony. He would be so proud."

Anthony’s smile softened, and for a moment, the room felt filled with an almost tangible warmth. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual composure, though his eyes remained full of affection for both Kate and Violet.

“Well,” he said, straightening up, “I suppose we should get going if we’re to make it to Aubrey Hall before sunset.”

Kate nodded, though her heart was still full from the moment. “Yes, let’s go.” She held the bonnet close to her chest, feeling its weight not only in her hands but in her heart. "Thank you, Violet. I’ll treasure these always."

Violet smiled warmly, wiping away the last of her own tears. "Take care of each other," she said softly. "We’ll see you soon.”

The carriage rocked gently as it made its way toward Aubrey Hall, the familiar rolling hills of the countryside unfolding outside the window. Kate sat beside Anthony, her hand nestled in his, both of them quietly content. Newton, of course, lay next to Kate, his head occasionally lifting to peer out of the open window.

Anthony glanced over at her, his smile lazy and full of mischief. He gave her hand a squeeze. “The last time I was on my way to Aubrey Hall, all I could think about was seeing you naked that evening. And I was in a carriage with my mother the entire time.”

Kate laughed, tilting her head back as the carriage filled with her laughter. Anthony gazed at her, savoring the sound. He loved making her laugh like that.

“And now we’re on our way to set up a nursery,” she said, grinning, her hand resting lightly on her belly.

He kissed her gently, his lips lingering a moment longer than usual. “And I’m still thinking about seeing you naked tonight.”

“Anthony!” she exclaimed, throwing her head back, laughing again. Anthony couldn’t stop himself from leaning over to kiss her once more.

As her laughter softened, Anthony’s gaze lingered on her face. “Are you sure you want the family to join us? My mother and I were talking again last night, and she completely understands if—”

“Anthony, enough,” she said, cutting him off with a smile. “I won’t hear it. Your family comes to the country every summer. It’s their home too.”

Her voice softened as she rubbed her thumb absentmindedly along his hand. “Besides, it will be nice to have Violet with us. She’s been such a source of comfort for me lately.”

“I’m glad,” Anthony replied earnestly. He pressed her hand to his lips, his expression tender. “It means everything to me, how you care for my family.”

Kate smiled back, her heart swelling. “Our family,” she corrected.

Chapter Text

The afternoon light filtered through the bedroom curtains, casting a soft glow over Kate and Anthony as they lay entwined, the peaceful quiet of Aubrey Hall surrounding them. They had spent the day mostly in each other’s arms, savoring this bit of time alone before the house would once again be filled with family.

Anthony’s fingers traced delicate patterns along her skin, his touch featherlight, as though she might break under his hands. He pressed a slow, tender kiss to the curve of her belly. Kate let out a soft sigh, her gaze fixed on him. She adored the care he took with her, the way his love manifested in every tender movement. But lately, his gentleness had been… too much. She wanted to feel the fire between them, the raw intensity he usually held in check.

“Anthony,” she murmured, her voice breaking through the peaceful silence.

He lifted his head from her shoulder, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Hmm?”

Her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze. “Would you… stop treating me like I’m so fragile?”

Anthony froze, his hand stilling on her waist. “Kate,” he began carefully, his eyes flicking toward the gentle curve of her belly. “We talked about this.”

“Yes, we did,” she said, her voice steady. “And I told you then, you’re not going to hurt me or the baby. I meant it. You don’t have to treat me like glass.”

He shifted beside her, sitting up slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… it’s different now,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “Ever since you felt him move, ever since you…” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard. “It feels so real now, Kate. And I can’t bear the thought of putting either of you in harm’s way.”

Her heart softened at his confession, but she refused to let him hide behind his fear. “Anthony, I appreciate how much you care, how much you love us,” she said gently, reaching out to place her hand over his. “But I’m still me. I’m still your wife. And sometimes…” She paused, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Sometimes, I want my husband to stop being so careful and just ravish me.”

His eyes widened at her boldness, and a faint blush crept up his neck. “Ravish you?” he repeated, half-laughing despite himself. “Kate…”

“I’m serious,” she said, her tone light but insistent. “I love your tenderness. I love how much you revere me. But Anthony…” Her fingers curled around his wrist, tugging him closer. “I also love the way you used to look at me like you couldn’t control yourself. Like you needed me so badly it hurt. I miss that.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked torn. His gaze dropped to her belly again, and she could almost see the war waging inside him—the struggle between his desire and his overwhelming need to protect.

“Kate…You’ve been so unwell,” he started, but she cut him off.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” she said firmly, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “I promise you. What I want right now, what I need, is for you to stop holding back. Please.”

He exhaled slowly, his eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. Finally, he gave a small nod, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. “You drive me mad, you know that?”

“Good,” she teased, tugging him down to her.

Anthony hesitated only a moment longer before his resolve shattered. His hands found her wrists, pinning them gently above her head as his body pressed against hers. His dark gaze locked on hers, and she felt a thrill of anticipation run through her.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice low, roughened by desire.

Her breath hitched. “Yes,” she whispered, her lips parting as she tested his hold. “Exactly like this.”

Something shifted in him then, the careful control he’d been clinging to melting away. His grip on her wrists tightened just enough to make her heart race, and his lips descended on hers with an urgency she hadn’t felt in weeks.

“God help me,” he rasped against her skin as his other hand roamed her body with a newfound confidence. “I love you, Kate.”

Her laughter melted into a soft moan as he answered her unspoken pleas with every touch, every movement. The air between them crackled with intensity, the passion he’d been holding back spilling over in waves.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled against her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure. “Yes, Anthony.”

When it was over, they lay tangled together, her head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced patterns on her back. Anthony kissed her temple, his voice soft with lingering emotion. “I love you.”