Chapter Text
Kate blinked, the shuffling of footsteps and clattering of plates awakening her from sleep. She felt herself frown as she took in her surroundings – the color of the curtains, the feel of the duvet, and, most notably, the lack of a man in bed with her, reminded her forcefully that she remained in the Viscountess’s chambers.
Nearly a week had passed since her and Anthony had shared a bed, in all senses of the word. They had spoken only sparingly, mostly of matters surrounding the Viscounty. Kate hated how their interactions had become so stilted, their words so carefully chosen. She found herself missing the man she had married – whose eyes never seemed to leave her face, who spoke and acted with abandon. She considered herself lucky now if he so much as looked her. It was almost as if all the flame between them had turned into ice, and Kate could feel the chill of it all over.
Kate thought she understood Anthony, but this complete shift in demeanor, even she could not justify.
Kate rose from bed, setting about readying herself for the day. Today, Anthony was due to visit several tenants, leaving Kate to her own devices around the home. She felt the relief wash over her as she realized she would not have to spend another day peering around each corner in an effort to avoid crossing his path.
It was not at all what she had imagined married life to be. Kate felt tears swimming in her eyes, and so she swallowed deeply, steeling herself against the pain of it all. She simply needed to remember why she sat where she was today. At the end of the day, her marriage to Anthony had been borne of necessity. They had needed to marry in order to protect both the Bridgerton and the Sharma name, and so they had wed. It was as simple as that. To have fallen in love with him under such circumstances had been foolish. She would do best to just forget it all.
Kate sighed and shook her head softly as she placed a hand on the door handle. It was time to face another day as Viscountess.
***
Anthony eyed the decanter of whiskey in front of him. It was not yet noon, and it would certainly not be appropriate to indulge in a second glass so early on in the day. He chanced a look over at his brothers, who regarded him nervously. Anthony sighed and grabbed the bottle in front of him, pouring himself another glass.
Benedict and Colin exchanged a meaningful look. It was Benedict who finally spoke up, clearing his throat pointedly. “So I suppose the honeymoon is over?” he asked, gesturing at the whiskey in Anthony’s hand.
Anthony shot him a glare. “I do not know what you mean,” he ground out. Of course, that was a lie. He knew exactly what Benedict meant. It was not often a good sign when, less than a month into marriage, one started to lie about their whereabouts in order to drink and avoid spending time with their wife.
“We are… concerned,” Colin ventured, sitting up taller in his chair. “We are no experts in the ways of marriage, but if this is a matter in which we can offer assistance – ”
“You could not possibly understand the situation in which I find myself,” Anthony spat out. “The responsibilities I hold, the duties – ”
“Oh, please, would you give it a rest?” Benedict groaned. “You are always on about your duty. I understand that you are the first born son, but that does not mean you need to be a first rate stick in the mud about it.”
Anthony huffed. “You would do best not to mock what you do not understand,” he warned, grasping tightly onto his glass.
“What I think Benedict means to say is that you need not be so serious all the time,” Colin interjected. “You should be enjoying life as a newlywed, not sitting in White’s trying to drink away whatever responsibility ails you so.”
“This is precisely what I mean,” Anthony responded, taking another swig before placing his glass firmly on the table in front of him. “I do not have the luxury of ‘enjoying life as a newlywed,’ Colin. My marriage is not about pleasure, or enjoyment, or… or love. It is a burden that I bear as the head of the Bridgerton household.”
“Oh, woe is me! My name is Anthony Bridgerton, and I have been forced to marry a brilliant, beautiful woman… what a burden!” Benedict said dramatically, placing the back of his hand to his forehead and swaying back and forth.
Colin unsuccessfully attempted to stifle a laugh. Anthony frowned at his brothers. “If you insist on acting so foolishly, I am afraid I must take my leave,” he announced, throwing back the rest of his whiskey and swiftly standing up. He pulled out his pocket watch, freezing as he looked at the time.
“Are you alright?” Colin inquired.
“What – what time do you have?” Anthony stuttered out. He could almost feel the color draining from his face.
Colin pulled out a watch of his own. “It is quarter till noon. Why, is everything okay?”
Anthony stared at the face of his watch in disbelief. “My watch has stopped,” he muttered. The hands on the clock seemed to taunt him, forever frozen at precisely 10:12.
Benedict furrowed his brows. “And this is a problem because…”
Anthony opened his mouth to respond but found that no words would come out. He felt his heartbeat hammering in his chest, each pulse a plea for his watch to tick back to life.
He took his leave silently, stuffing his pocket watch away and grabbing forcefully at his jacket. He needed to speak with Kate.
***
Kate sipped at her tea leisurely. It was relaxing to have the home to herself. She wanted to enjoy it the best she could – Anthony would be home in only a matter of hours, and soon enough they would take up residence at Bridgerton House, where there would surely never be a moment of quiet.
She sifted through the mail, making note of her relatives back home who had written to congratulate her on her nuptials. There were a few correspondences between Anthony and some old friends from Oxford, a note from Lady Danbury inviting her for tea, and – a letter from her mother?
Kate tilted her head to the side, regarding the sealed envelope with curiosity. Her mother did not take well to the art of penmanship, often avoiding letter-writing whenever possible. She opened the letter slowly, her hands shaking slightly as she read.
To my dearest Kate,
First, I must say that I miss you dearly. As a mother, it has always been my hope to see my daughters grow up… and how beautifully you have grown up, my dear! However, I would be remiss not to mention how incomplete our home feels without you. I hope you can find the time to come by for a visit soon. I considered dropping by myself, but I did not desire to intrude during your first few weeks of marriage, and so I have taken to penning you this note instead.
Second, and more importantly, I wanted to discuss a critical matter with you. I would wait to speak with you in person, but, as I have said, I desire to tell you this most urgently. I have spoken with Edwina about her visit with you last week. I am overjoyed that you two have reconciled, although I held no doubt in my mind that you would find your way back to one another. However, Edwina divulged some information that has concerned me greatly. Please do not be cross with her for sharing, for I do believe that it is for the best that I am aware of this.
She has told me that you continue to deny your feelings for the Viscount. I desired to remain uninvolved, as I hoped you would come to recognize your feelings on your own terms, but I have some thoughts I feel compelled to share with you in the face of your continued denial. My dearest Kate, I want you to know that I understand keenly the pain that love can bring. In my lifetime, I have thrown away all I had for love, only to lose it all too soon. It is an unbearable pain to lose the one you love, but the only pain that is worse is to deny yourself the chance to love at all. I shudder to think of the life I would have led if I had kept myself from your father. Without him, I would never have known the breathtaking beauty of love, and, perhaps more importantly, I would never have known the two greatest gifts of my life – you and your sister.
I hope you know that you deserve to experience that type of love – a love without condition. Love is not something that is ever owed, but rather a gift you are given. I am reminded of the day I first met you. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were my daughter. You did not have to do anything for me to love you – you did not need to be the perfect daughter, or the perfect sister. You simply needed to be you. The love I have for you, my dear, you never had to earn. You must know it, Kate. You deserve to love and be loved in return. Do not deny yourself this world’s most precious gift because you fear you are unworthy. You are far from it.
I love you, dearest. Do call on me when you are able.
Mama
Kate felt something wet on her cheek. She had not realized it, but she had started to cry, the years of quiet doubt and constant anxiety pouring out as tears onto her face. Her heart ached as she considered her mother – she may not have been borne of her, but her mama understood her in a way nobody else did. She had needed to hear these words, had needed them to soothe over the wounds of her past. She needed them to begin to heal.
Kate swallowed, wiping at her eyes. She needed to write a note back. She needed to speak with her mother. No, no, what she needed was to speak with Anthony.
“Kate!” her husband’s voice rang out. Kate stood up, hurriedly stuffing her mother’s letter into the pile of mail beside her.
“Kate!” he called again, appearing suddenly in the doorway in front of her. He was breathing heavily, almost as if he had run to the Serpentine and back.
“My lord,” she breathed out. “You are home early. I desire to speak with you. I – ”
“My watch,” he responded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the object in question.
Kate cocked her head at him. “Did you forget your watch at home?” she questioned.
Anthony actually laughed. Laughed! “No, Kate, my watch is broken,” he responded, waving it frantically in front of her.
“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, taking a step forward and placing a hand on his forehead. “You do not seem to have a fever.”
“No, no. Come, please. Let us sit,” he insisted, grabbing at her hand and leading them to the sofa. He placed the watch between them. “This was my father’s watch,” he murmured, staring at it almost reverently.
Kate nodded her head solemnly, understanding washing over her. “I am sorry, Anthony. I know how much your father meant to you,” she responded, squeezing at his hand.
Anthony swallowed. “He used this watch every day, and when he died, it was given to me. I have used it every day since, and now the watch has died, too.”
Kate’s eyes flickered across his face. “What do you mean to say?” she whispered.
“It could happen any second, couldn’t it?” he said, meeting her eyes with an intensity that gripped at her chest. “Any second could be your last.”
Kate was startled to see the beginnings of tears swimming in his eyes. “Anthony, you mustn’t think like that.”
“No, I must. I must,” he muttered, pinching at the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath in. He grabbed at both of her hands then, so gently, as if she might break. “I have wasted every single second of that clock. I have spent every second scared… scared of what might happen if I let my guard down, scared of what might come the day I lose someone again. I have acted out as a result. I must apologize for it all – I have hidden from you, when in truth I was simply hiding from myself.”
“Anthony,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe a tear from his cheek.
“Its last tick could have been my last. Or worse, it could have been yours. I cannot waste another second,” he murmured. “I love you, Kate. I have loved you from the moment we raced each other in that park. I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, every time we’ve been together, and every time we’ve been apart. I have loved you for every second, and I will love you for every second more.”
Kate felt her heart squeeze in her chest. “Oh, Anthony – ”
“You do not have to accept it, you do not have to embrace it – or even allow it, and knowing you, you probably will not. But you must know it in your heart. You must feel it because I do. I love you,” he breathed, placing her hand over his heart.
“Every second,” she whispered. Anthony furrowed his brows at her, and so she continued. “I have loved you for every second.”
He captured her lips with his then, cupping the back of her head with a tenderness that made Kate want to weep. She could taste his tears on his lips, and so she kissed him back firmly, each press of her lips a promise for their future. She could feel him smile against her, and Kate felt herself smile back.
“I love you,” he murmured. “I will never stop saying it.”
“Nor I,” she responded, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I am sorry I tried to deny it for as long as I did.”
Anthony shook his head. “No, no more apologies. Look at where we are now. I would not trade this moment for anything.”
Kate smiled. “Come,” she said, standing up gracefully and extending her hand to him. “I require your help in moving my belongings back into our shared bedchambers.”
He stood and took her hand in his, a grin spreading across his face. “Perhaps we could make a visit to our bedchambers first?” he suggested, a mischievous look in his eye.
Kate blushed. “The staff – ”
“Will simply be happy that we are no longer arguing,” he offered. “Please, Kate. Let me show you how dearly I care for you.”
Kate quirked a brow at him. “Only if you can catch me,” she dared him, taking off suddenly up the stairs.
Anthony let out a loud laugh. “You minx!” he shouted after her, bounding quickly behind her. Kate moved to shut him out of their bedchamber, but Anthony caught the door at the last moment. He regarded her with a broad smile, slamming the door soundly behind him. “You’ll pay for that one,” he said, placing his hands on either side of her face and kissing her soundly.
Kate sighed into his kiss. She responded with a giddy kind of enthusiasm, fisting her hands in his shirt as she swept her tongue into his mouth.
“You’ll kill me,” he breathed out. “You’re going to be the death of me, Kathani.”
“And what a happy way to die,” she responded, her hands making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.
“God, I love you,” he said, placing both hands firmly on her waist and burying his head in the crevice of her neck. He began to press frantic kisses to her jawline, drawing a muffled groan from Kate’s throat.
She rid him of his shirt then, running her hands along his bare chest. She loved touching him like this, the feel of him firm and strong under her fingertips. It made him, this, feel all the more real somehow. “I love you, too,” she sighed, gasping as he suckled at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
“How many times can I get you to say that, do you think?” he said into her neck, hands moving to the back of her dress to undo the buttons there.
“As many times as you wish,” she panted out.
“Mm, good,” he responded, diving back in to taste her lips. He broke away suddenly, a wild look in his eye. “I want you in our bed, Kate. I want you bare and waiting for me.”
“You could at least say please,” she teased him, letting one shoulder of her dress fall down. His eyes followed the offending garment with rapt attention.
“Please,” he bit out, and Kate grinned. She shimmied out of her dress then, settling herself prettily on their mattress before reaching down to peel off her undergarments.
Anthony towered over her, eyes raking over her body in awe. “Each part of you is more beautiful than the next,” he whispered, reaching down to cup her cheek.
Kate smiled mischievously, taking his thumb into her mouth and sucking on it lightly. Anthony feared he might fall to his knees in front of her. “Not yet,” he murmured, removing his hand and bending down to give her a lingering kiss. “I think first, my stunning wife deserves to be worshipped. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Kate nodded, breathing heavily as she met his eye. Anthony moved to hover over her, pressing another kiss to her lips before peppering kisses across her nose and cheeks. “You are angelic, Kate. I love looking at your face. I could do it for hours,” he muttered. He moved slowly across her jawline and down her neck, settling comfortably at her collarbones, nipping at the skin there before soothing her with his tongue. “I love how soft you are here. So beautiful.” He began to travel down one arm and then the other, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her palms. “Love your hands. Love how they feel when you touch me.”
He turned his attention to her breasts, mouthing at them languidly. He played with the weight of them, mesmerized at the rise and fall of her chest as he teased her. She sighed when he finally moved his lips to her nipple, nibbling at her softly before taking her into mouth. He ran his tongue in slow circles around her, her back arching at the sensation. “I especially love these. So full and perfect.”
Kate began to squirm. The soft teasing of his lips over her body was a slow form of torture. Each brush of his lips set a fire under her skin, and she was sure she would burst into flames any moment now. She felt sensitive all over, each kiss another assault on her senses and pushing her towards the brink of pain – the delicious kind that made her rub her thighs together.
“Anthony,” she said through gritted teeth, tossing her head from side to side.
“I am worshipping my wife, Kate. You will just have to be patient,” he chided her, dropping to his knees and pressing a kiss to the inside of her calf, kneading the defined muscle there. He moved to tease the inside of her knee for a long moment before finally turning his attention to her thighs.
He slowly traced the length of her leg. “I used to dream about your thighs,” he murmured. “Especially what was between them. So pretty and perfect, Kate.” He suckled at her hip then, and Kate bucked against him in search of friction. “Do you want me to taste you?” he asked, laughing softly. She could feel his breath against her sex.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“You could at least say please,” he countered, hovering above where she wanted him most.
“Please,” she ground out, gasping as he finally slid his tongue along her folds.
Usually when Anthony pleasured her like this, he did it with a certain kind of ferocity, but this time, he lapped at her slowly, as if to savor her. The slow drag of his mouth along her sex was addictive, each nip and suck drawing a whimper from her throat. Kate looked down so she could see him – Anthony looked beautiful like this, and she felt herself slicken further at the sight.
Anthony groaned. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her clit. “You taste so sweet, Kate.” He closed his lips around her bundle of nerves then, laving his tongue around it before sucking at it softly.
Kate cried out, fisting her hands in the sheets. She felt heat pooling at the base of her spine, coiling tighter with each swipe of his tongue. “I love you,” she gasped out. “Oh, God, I love you.”
Anthony moaned against her, her words intensifying his efforts. He felt so perfect like this, his tongue working her so sweetly, and she felt herself shatter, her release springing forward and falling over her in waves.
“I love you, too,” he responded as she struggled to catch her breath, moving up her body to kiss her lips. She could taste herself on his tongue, and she felt her desire building again deep in her core.
Kate realized that at some point, Anthony must have taken off his trousers and breeches, since she could feel the bare length of him against her leg. She shuddered, reaching down to stroke him.
Anthony hissed at her touch. “Oh, please, let me make love to you, Kate. I need to be inside you,” he pleaded, dropping kisses along her neck.
Kate moaned, moving to grab either side of his face and dragging him up to look her in the eye. “I need you, Anthony. Please.”
Anthony nodded at her emphatically, settling himself next to her on the bed and rolling onto his side so that her body was nested by his. He rested his head on her shoulder and grabbed firmly at her hips, pressing her back into him.
He lined himself up at her entrance, dropping featherlight kisses to the shell of her ear. “I love you,” he whispered as he entered her, groaning at the feeling of her walls clamping around him.
Kate sighed, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him. When he was settled fully inside of her, Kate let herself marvel at the feeling – she had never felt so complete, so totally whole in all her life.
“Mm, I love you, too,” she murmured, pressing her hips back to urge him to move. Anthony slid out of her then, setting an agonizingly slow place. Kate could feel every inch of him like this, the drag of him against her walls creating a torturous kind of friction. She moaned out, grasping onto his hand that was placed on her hip.
“Faster,” she pleaded. She felt Anthony shake his head against her shoulder, kissing the back of her neck.
“Just like this. I’m going to make you come just like this,” he insisted, pulling out all the way this time, only to ease back in even more slowly.
Kate screwed her eyes shut. Anthony continued on like this, sliding in and out of her almost leisurely. The slowness of it was excruciating, every part of her body vibrating with the need for more.
Anthony moved his hand then to her sex, nimble fingers quickly finding her bundle of nerves. Kate let out a high-pitched gasp. The feeling of his fingers sliding over her clit, the delicious drag of his cock, his hot breath on her cheek – it was too much. Kate let out a choked moan, her release hitting her with blinding hot intensity.
Anthony moaned in kind, pumping into her one, two, three more times before burying himself as deep as possible, a low groan ripping from his throat as he emptied himself inside of her.
They collapsed on the bed then, arms and bodies still entangled. Anthony pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, cradling her cheek and angling her face to meet his gaze. “Every second of every day,” he whispered.
Kate nodded, tears of joy gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Every second of every day.”
***
Eight years later
“Good morning, Viscountess,” Anthony murmured, dropping a slow kiss to Kate’s neck. “And good morning, little Charlotte.” He let his hand drop to his wife’s stomach, rubbing soft circles over the small bump there.
Kate let out a small groan, eyes fluttering open. “We do not know it to be a girl, yet, Anthony,” she muttered.
Anthony grinned at her. “Oh, it will be a girl. Trust me.”
“Really, what makes you think you will be right this time? You were wrong about both Edmund and Miles. It is truly an abysmal track record, you know.”
“Have you considered that I simply desire a daughter?” he responded, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Kate smiled. “Well then for your sake, I hope we do have a daughter, because this is the last one.”
“That is what you said about Miles, my love,” he chided her, moving to her neck and kissing the skin there. “And now look at us.”
“Yes, but I mean it this time,” she insisted, lolling her head to the side to allow him more access. She sighed as he nipped at her pulse point, burying a hand in his hair.
“Perhaps we should start trying for number four right now,” he breathed out, sucking gently at the crevice of her neck.
Kate let out a laugh. “Surely you know that it does not work like that.”
“Just for practice?” he suggested instead, dragging his head up to meet her eyes.
She grinned at him then, pushing lightly at his shoulders. “If you keep this up, I will not let you so much as touch me once Charlotte is born. Three is plenty, Anthony.”
“So, you agree, it will be a girl?” he retorted.
Kate rolled her eyes then, slipping out of bed and extending a hand towards her husband. “Come, let us get dressed and check on the children.”
***
It was a beautifully sunny day, and with the chill of early spring fading quickly, Kate and Anthony decided to bring the boys outside to play.
The couple sat on the terrace, sipping at fresh chai. It was a bit warm for tea, but the pair imbibed in it nonetheless as they watched their children wrestle in the grass. Edmund and Miles were of such an age where their energy never did seem to die down, and their parents had long ago resigned to let the children tucker themselves out in whatever way possible – wrestling very much included.
“I received some exciting news this morning,” Kate said, a warm smile settling across her features.
“Oh?” Anthony inquired, raising a brow in her direction.
“Sophie has given birth. Another boy, William,” she responded, taking a long sip of tea.
“So you’re telling me that my very own brother has sired three sons in a row? Well, that certainly does not bode well for our little Charlotte here, but – ”
“Ow!” Edmund shouted.
“Miles, play nicely with your brother!” Kate called out, setting her cup down to better observe her sons.
“Amma, I did not do anything!” Miles cried out. “It was a bee!”
Kate and Anthony were on their feet in an instant, running over to where the oldest son sat sniffling on the ground.
“It stung me!” he wailed, sticking out his arm to reveal a small red mark.
Kate swallowed deeply, chancing a look over toward her husband. His jaw was clenched tight, and he was breathing shallowly.
“It – it is quite alright, Eddy,” she assured him, running a hand through his hair and pulling him in for a hug. “After all, it is just – it is just – ”
“It is just a bee,” Anthony said simply. His eyes darted back and forth between the bee sting and his son’s face. “You will be quite alright, my son. Trust me,” he uttered, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Edmund sniffled once, twice more. “You are sure, Papa?”
Despite it all, Anthony felt himself smile. “Yes. Yes, I am sure,” he said, and as he looked around – surrounded by his beautiful sons and his equally beautiful, damnable wife – he truly believed it.