#Kathani Sharma imagine

[hiatuswhore]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: I am so sorry for just disappearing on this fic. I love this fic but I’ve been struggling with writers block BADLY. My think tank is broken or something. So since I disappeared for so long the word count is double the usual. Thanks for your patience. Feedback please!

♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 17.6K

♕ WARNINGS: None

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THE NIGHT SKY SITS HIGH UP WITH A COOL BREEZE THROUGH THE WINDOW. Sitting alone in front of a vanity worth more than most of your things combined, you sit in the mirror, brushing your hair, toying with the idea of a marriage to William. It’s ideal—more than ideal, it comes with everything you want in life. An out from society, the means to do as you please, but still, it burdens you with a new level of expectations and responsibilities. No matter how much the choice glitters, it’s not gold. You cannot bring yourself to give him an answer.

Opening your room door slowly, you poke your head out quietly, scanning the corridor. At the sight of no one and the low hum of everyone to their own devices, you move cautiously through the hall. The stairs proved to be their own obstacle, with every creak threatening to reveal your scheming. Your end goal? The back porch, certain a moment beneath the stars.

“—you cannot be serious!” Stopping short, the back door sits in view a mere few steps away, but William’s voice halts your movement. The closed-door staring back at you, the persistent padding of the floor matching the faint shadow beneath hastily moving back and forth.

“Spare me, William! You speak on speculation alone!” Anthony seethes, his attempts to whisper clashing with his own frustration. A scandal? You want to listen, to cling to any information the private conversation offers, but the foyer lacks any semblance of coverage. It would only take one person opening the door to reveal your highly inappropriate snooping. As a guest of the Bridgertons, no good would come from this kind of trouble. You cast the moment to the back of your mind, acknowledging that you have more complicated matters than two Englishmen in a row.

Rising early the following day. Typically the beaming sun through the curtains and the loud chirping of birds result in dramatic whines and huffs. Not today. Before your mother or even Lady Danbury can rise to object, you ask Lady Violet to use the driver to see some of the countryside. Her nescience to your troublesome nature granting you jovial approval.

In the carriage, you rest your arms on the open window, the cool air blowing across your skin. The sun warms your face as you melt into the calm that comes with endless farmland.

“Excuse me, sir. Can you pull over, please?” You call out. The vibrant green shines with a sea of endless flowers, assuring John, the driver, that you will soon return while entering the open field. Walking through the grass, you march without a destination. Occasionally swatting away a fly or bug, your smile remains.

“Appa, look at this,” You whisper, eyes shining at the flowers around you. John’s no longer in sight. You are not positive about how far you have journeyed when you turn around. Without a worry, you continue back straight from the direction you came. After a long while, the lack of the familiar carriage comes with a wave of ambivalence. The silence continues on as a frown settles on your face, the terrain on a continuous loop.

Scolding your inability to follow any directions ever given to you. You drag your feet huffing at the uncomfortable rub of your boots. The concept of time now an illusion. Your mind says it’s been hours as your feet cry days. You thank the heavens above at the sound of a horse until you see who rides toward you with a pointed look.

“Must you always be so erratic? William and I have been searching for you for hours! Do tell, how does one get lost with no turns?” Anthony exclaims, stopping expertly at your side. You wipe the discomfort from your face as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“First, I’ll have you know that I am not lost. Secondly, no one asked you to come searching for me!” Anthony points out the ways off you are from where the carriage let you out. Falling silent, you roll your eyes before holding out your hand to join Anthony on the horse.

“You can’t be seen riding on the back of my horse. It would be improper,” He says, keeping your hand out; you narrow your eyes at his words, “So, to be clear, you journeyed out here with no alternative of getting me to the estate? Have you come only to chastise me, Mother?”

“If you put it like that, then, of course, it sounds foolish,” Anthony grumbles, your right eye twitching as you fight the urge to push him off the horse, “Because it is foolish! Now spare me your silly formalities and help me up!”

His nose scrunches as a sigh leaves him. Taking your hand and pulling you up, he utilizes the opportunity to lecture you on every worst-case scenario. You secure your arms around his lower back and lean your head on his shoulder. He drones about the dangers of the particular area and how fortunate nothing occurred. While he continues listing every action of yours he deems a nuisance, you soak in the release of the tensions on your legs and feet. Before you know it, his words and the smooth trot of the horse lull you away.

“—are you even listening? Of course, you are not. Why would (Y/n) Sharma listen to anyone else other than herself?” Anthony says, glancing on his shoulder to find your eyes closed.

“Don’t be such a boorish oaf. It’s been a phenomenal day,” Yawning, you find yourself nuzzling further into the back of his shoulder as if nothing else matters. Anthony lets out a dry chuckle, keeping his focus ahead as his mind pushes William’s confession to the back of his thoughts.

Before you know it, Aubrey Hall stands in view like your saving grace. Daphne steps through the doors as Anthony helps you down from the horse. Her eyebrows furrow as she carefully eyes the two of you, “No matter how painfully dull I find you, I must say thank you for coming to get me. Repeat that to anyone and I’ll deny it to my dying breath.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Miss Sharma,” Anthony nods his head at your thank you as Daphne lingers by the steps. Her eyebrows furrow at the two of you as her mind generates connections she previously presumed to be false.

“(Y/n) Sharma! Have you gone mad? I was worried sick, my child,” Your mother rushes down the stairs pulling you into a tight hug. While relief fills her, it subsides as she pulls back from the hug with a pointed stare. “What have you done?”

“If I may, Lady Mary? It appears our driver just made haste. Miss Sharma was only a little ways off of the path. Indeed partaking in a breathtaking but safe area of the countryside,” You turn to Anthony as he speaks with a charming smile. His easygoing nature saves you from a long lecture you would have inevitably received from your mother.

“Well, then, my apologies, dearest. Lord Bridgerton, please accept my utmost gratitude for ensuring my daughters' safe return,” Lady Mary says as she takes your arms. She excuses the two of you with a polite smile before dragging you toward the house. You look back at Anthony with narrowed eyes, but he only offers a sardonic smile with a mocking wave. You are certain his help does not come without cost.

“Though Lord Bridgerton vouches for the safety of your insolence, you know better (Y/n)!” Your mother sighs with her back on the door.

“Mama, I did not wish to upset anyone. I just wanted to explore the countryside. You should have seen it. It was beautiful!” You sit on the edge of the bed as your mind fills with the flowers splintering in your memory. The reds, blues, and purples blending in your mind, the ache of your feet long gone.

“My darling, can we please just focus on ensuring tonight’s dinner goes without shenanigans?” Mary sighs, holding her composure she stares at you with patient eyes. “I need your word that while we are here as guests, you will do everything possible to ensure this visit goes smoothly. For Edwina’s sake.”

“Mama, it was only—“ You huff, but as she shakes her head, asking only for your word. “Of course, Mama. I want to make clear I would never do anything to jeopardize our family or Edwina’s happiness. I need to know you know that?”

Mary’s shoulders fall as she takes in your glassy-eyed gaze. She joins you on the edge of the bed, taking both your cheeks in her hand. “(Y/n) I know you believe that, but you fail to remember your actions have consequences. When it is just us, I am more than okay with your adventurousness. But here, my wildflower child is a different world than you know. One wrong move, and it can ruin us all.”

The heaviness of her words does not come without consequence. Even long after your mother leaves you, her words do not. The arrival of dinner does not allow you to dwell on the implications of your mothers' words. You sit between Colin and Benedict, with Kate and Eloise across from you.

“This room is exceptionally well-lit. Have you noticed, Col? How bout you, Lady (Y/n)? The twinkles of the candles, it’s as if—we sit among the stars,” Benedict speaks in awe that exceeds the contents of his words—amusement dances across your face as Colin's eyes continuously bounce to his mother and back to Benedict.

“What is wrong with you?” Eloise questions, mirroring your expression as she eyes her elder brother.

“I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece,” Colin says as if his mind formulates his sentence as it leaves him.

“No, you weren—“ You raise an eyebrow as Colin lightly kicks your shin. The rest of the table watches the pause between the two of you. Colin offers you a pleading smile as you shake your head, shielding your lips with your glass. “You should know that I weaponize my silence. The cost is simple. Why is Benedict acting odd?”

“I gave him a powder that I acquired from my travels. He took far too much of it,” Colin says, earning a loud laugh that draws the attention of the rest of the table. You quickly recover by bringing your glass to your lips again; meeting William’s gaze, he raises an eyebrow. Shrugging your shoulders, you tilt your head toward Benedict until William’s eyes move to the left of you. The longer you stare at the Bridgerton, the more apparent his altered state appears.

“Are you enjoying your time here, Miss Edwina?” Daphne asks, diverting the attention to the opposite end of the table. Edwina sits with Colin to her right and Anthony to her left. Daphne sits across from her with Anthony to her left and William to her right.

“I am, very much. The buzz of the city is thrilling indeed, but I quite enjoy the peace of the country,” Edwina smiles brightly as most of the table watches her. Your attention more on Benedict, who continues quietly in your ear about the room's beauty. Lady Danbury watches you quietly with Kate at her left and Lady Violet at her right. You silently thank whoever made the seating arrangements as your mother sits beside Benedict, unable to eye you the entire night.

“As do I. Though I dare say. It is not quite so peaceful with my entire family in residence,” Anthony points out. Rolling your eyes, you find William chuckling softly, his eyes on you.

“Certainly, I cannot compare my family to your seven brothers and sisters, but you have all become familiar with my wonderfully chaotic sister (Y/n). Kate and I were known to be a handful growing up, but Mama always had her hands full with (Y/n),” Edwina says, leaning forward to catch her gaze; you offer a playful wink. Kate does not miss the opportunity to share when you decided you no longer desired the hair on your head.

“Not this again,” You whine, shaking your head as Kate details how you excitedly carried your hair in your hand.

“I had never seen Mama become so flustered so rapidly. She was endlessly chasing (Y/n) throughout our home,” Edwina details as a chorus of laughter fills the table. Daphne's giggles cease as William huffs to the right of her. She follows his gaze to her left. A smile ghosts on Anthony’s lips as he watches how you laugh sheepishly. Anthony’s eyes focus on you, a nostalgic glint in his eyes,

“(Y/n) was such a fast child I could rarely catch her when she was determined to not be caught,” Your mother smiles, her eyes glazing over as if she leaves the dinner table to relive that memory. The story lacks the part where your father caught you. Despite your upset mother, he only laughed. Not a simple laugh, one without end—he laughed so hard the rest of you could not help but follow suit.

“In seriousness, both Kate and (Y/n) bear heavy responsibilities for our family. (Y/n) has never allowed any moment, no matter how hard in our lives to go without some silver lining. If anyone can help you through a tough time, it’s her. We’d have never survived the tough days without her,” Edwina continues as you look to find her gaze, only to find Anthony’s. It lasts seconds as you roll your eyes at him before looking at your sister. A chuckle leaves his lips as he fails to hear Edwina talk about Kate. Daphne watches warily as William silently watches his oblivious best friend.

“That sounds remarkably similar to you, Anthony,” Daphne says, watching as her brother snaps back into the conversation, “Much familial responsibility to bear, indeed.”

Kate catches Daphne's knowing gaze, and the two watch each other silently for several seconds. You sit watching Colin fail to keep Benedict in check, knocking over his glass and covering his face. When he removes his hand, it reveals a child-like grin, sheer contentment.

“Benedict dear, you alarm our guests,” Lady Violet says with the grace of a seasoned noble. A perfect blend of warmth and patronization. You know that tone all too well.

“Not at all,” Kate says as you offer a giant smile to Lady Violet. The sound of Lady Danbury’s fork against her glass commands the room's attention.

“It is time for a toast,” Lady Danbury says. A smooth distraction, chuckling, you glance at Benedict.

“A good idea. To cheer our guests,” Lady Violet says as your mother beams happily at the idea. It’s clear what they hope to achieve at this dinner, and you find it rather nauseating how they puppeteer it all.

“Or to tend to other pressing matters,” Lady Danbury's words are everything short of subtle. The attention turns to Anthony and Edwina quickly. Kate makes eye contact with Daphne, then with you. While you look unfazed by the inevitable purpose of this invitation, it’s clear Kate seeks a haste exit.

“My—I believe my sisters and I have grown weary,” Kate says. A sharp kick to your shin blocks your attempts to deny her words as you hiss quietly.

“Whatever you gave Benedict, you might need to give it to Kate,” You whisper to Colin, who turns to your sister. She holds her wine close to her lips as her fingers drum against the glass. Her posture’s stiff as she looks at Anthony as if her eyes can strike him dead.

“A toast. Yes,” Anthony rises from the head of the table as you all raise your glasses. “My sincere gratitude to the Sharmas for joining us. It has been splendid having you here to witness what is now my second annual loss at Pall-Mall. Not to be repeated, I assure you. And my special gratitude to Miss Edwina. It has certainly been a privilege to truly make your acquaintance these past few days. In fact, I believe there is a question I would like to ask you.”

You watch as most of the table sits at the very edge of their seats as Anthony pauses. Your eyes cut to Daphne, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight. Daphne steals glances at William, whose lips press tight as he stares at Anthony with—confusion? Kate shares Daphne’s weary expression, and you furrow your eyebrows as something does not quite click. Anthony now stands with his hands clasped behind his back, scanning the room. His eyes find your own, furthering your confusion as he pauses for a second. Anthony moves his gaze to William, and the two appear to speak to one another without saying a single word.

“I should like to uh—I should like to ask you please refrain from telling anyone back in London about yesterday's loss. I fear the harm to my reputation would simply be too great,” Awkward chuckles chorus through the room, but you glare daggers at the Viscount. You may not know classic literature well or Latin, but you know your sisters. The fall of Edwina’s face appears subtle, but the sting of Anthony’s words are unmistakable. Daphne and Kate let out sighs of relief as William stares at you. You cannot decipher what he contemplates, but you are sure it has something to do with Kate, Daphne, and Anthony. Dinner continues, and the end cannot come fast enough.

Finally, just your sisters and yourself. Kate rubs Edwina’s head as you sit without words. Deep frown lines crease Edwina’s forehead, her eyes misty, and you are confident that her self-scrutiny eats away at her insides.

“You must know you did nothing wrong,” Kate dares to say, but Edwina’s words are sharp as she speaks almost instantly, “I must have done something. The rest of the ton are now set to join us in the country. Surely, if the Viscount were to propose, he’d have done it by now. Yes?”

“Edwina, you are putting far too much pressure on yourself. You are wonderful, and they know it,” You take her hand in both your own, bringing it up to your lips.

“That is easy for you to say. People always love you, no matter where you go. You were proposed to by a man in line for the throne of England, Lady Violet dotes on you, and you charmed the Queen. You don’t even try and have done far better than I am. What if I missed my chance? Perhaps I should’ve found out more about the Bridgertons. I should’ve known more about their interests. I should’ve been better,” Edwina does not allow either of you to get a word in as a tear escapes her eyes. You place a chaste kiss on the back of her hand as your chest aches at her words.

“Edwina, do not fool yourself. How am I doing better, and yet you are the diamond of the season? You are amazing and do not need to study a man's family to prove your worthiness. If a proposal is what you want, I will beat it out of the Viscount myself if you so wish it,” Earning a chuckle from Edwina and Kate, the tension eases as a small smile plays on Edwina’s lips. It does not reach her eyes, but you do not expect to expel her fears so quickly.

A soft cry leaves her lips in one shaky breath, “I have bungled this entire affair, and now I feel like a fool.”

“Never say such a thing, Bon. I knew he would only end up hurting you. Come here,” Kate says, wrapping Edwina in her arms. You join the other side closing your youngest sister in. Your heads touch as you focus on the sound of Edwina's quiet sobs. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I thought he liked me,” Edwina cries, her hand squeezing you both a little tighter. You meet Kate's gaze, nudging your head, telling her it was now her turn to give a pep talk.

“(Y/n) is right, Bon. You are the diamond of the season. There is nary a gentleman back in London who does not wish for your hand. You have choices, Bon. I assure you that all will be well despite this disappointment with the Viscount. Plus, do you truly wish to marry someone our sister might murder?” A loud laugh leaves Edwina’s lips as you nod in agreement with Kate. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, a warmth lingers in the air.

The following day you wake to Kate rushing into your room, sitting up; you grumble as she mutters apologies. She moves to your things, removing the cream you have used on many cuts over the years.

“Are you alright?” You ask as she applies it near her collarbone. She assures you everything’s fine. “What happened to your chest?”

“I got a bee sting while near the gardens—“ You frown as she trails off, her eyebrows furrowing as your presence seems no longer relevant. “While I am not fond of the Viscount, you could help him.”

“Why am I helping him?” You ask. Initially, you do not believe her tale of being stung in the gardens and the Viscounts' familiar reaction.

“I do not know his history, Bon. What I do know is there is something with him and bees. I think he shares your ailment. It appeared like he could not breathe. He looked so afraid—his hands were shaking. Bon, I fear I will never understand your ailment, but for the first time, there is someone who can. Please talk to him, not for him—for you.” Kate crouches at your bedside, brushing your hair with her fingers much like she would after one of your episodes. You do not say a word during the entirety of her explanation. Rarely do any of you talk about your ailment. Kate caught it during the announcement of the season’s diamond, but beyond that, it had been relatively dormant.

“I will not seek him out, but if we happen to cross each other paths, I will inquire if he is indeed alright,” You say. Kate smiles, kissing your forehead before leaving your room. It only takes you mere minutes to get ready, not bothered by doing your hair in some precious way. Your mother, Lady Violet, Lady Danbury, and Daphne appear busy planning the lunch. The Bridgerton siblings scatter amongst the large estate to their own devices, and your sister appears nowhere in sight.

While you said you would not seek him out, you find yourself in the gardens. The flowers bloom beautifully with a significant number of hyacinths in view. You marvel at the simplicity.

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony joins your side, but his gaze stays on the flowers. You watch him carefully as he eyes them not in awe but with a cloudy disposition.

“Lord Bridgerton,” You say, turning to the flowers. Anthony's expression does not change, leaving you wondering if he even heard you. Uncertainty plagues you as you are sure what you want to say but not when to say it. “I will not dawdle any longer. I fear I am familiar with where you are now in this ailment. After the horrifying feeling as if all the air will leave your body at once comes that strange calm, where you feel as though you cannot feel anything.”

Anthony’s head whips in your direction, but you do not move your eyes from the flowers. The look on his face tells you that you are on the right track, but it does not confirm your assumptions, “Kate told me what occurred earlier. Correct me if I am wrong, but typically it comes randomly, right? Often in the most inopportune times but typically from certain settings.”

“I—you are mistaken, Miss Sharma. I, the Viscount, suffer no ailment, just temporary lapses,” He does not offer you much as he turns his attention back to the flowers, and you both share similar frowns.

“There is no shame in it, Lord Bridgerton. My father used to say we all have something, if not an ailment—an insecurity. A lot of my insecurities trigger my ailment, if I am quite honest. I have a lot to live up to with two great sisters. I am a lousy shot and not as cognizant as Kate. I lack resilience. I just bury my troubles with humor. Then there’s Edwina, whom you would be a fool to not marry. She checks every box of those silly questions of yours—excelling in modern and classical literature. Which are without a doubt boring,” Anthony chuckles as he listens intently. You let out a huff as you look up and meet his gaze. He appears in awe almost.

“Miss Sharma, I think you are undoubtedly your own harshest critic. You need not be like Kate because you find and elevate the room's most exciting part. Who cares if you are a lousy shot? My younger brothers excelled in shooting before I. You have voiced your distaste for classic literature, and it does edify the mind, but one has to enjoy it to sharpen their wit,” He clasps his hands in front of him, offering a sheepish smile as you look at him. A small smile threatens to break the frown on your lips. While you look off at nothing in particular, you miss how he looks at you. At ease, he appears unusually calm, not stressing the ball or his search for a wife.

“I—I must admit that I was wrong about you, Lord Bridgerton,” You say. A chuckle left his lips while correcting you.

“Anthony,” He says. You nod your head as a smirk tugs at your lips before mocking him.

“You suddenly think we are friends?” He looks incredulously at your sardonic tone, “Oh, do not look at me as if you are unfamiliar with who I am? You can call me by my name if you like. Last I checked, I lack a title and am not a man.”

He scrunched his nose before chuckling as your personality shined through. “With much regret (Y/n), I do agree with you to a point. You lack a title, but I am a gentleman.”

“Spare me your self-righteousness, Lord Bridgerton. I guess I should congratulate you. You have finally acquired the favor of one Sharma sister, now only one more to go, and you can wed Edwina,” Anthony’s face falls at your words. Looking past the garden, William walks toward you both. He ignores your playful smile as his eyes focus on Anthony to your right.

“Miss Sharma, we require a moment alone,” William says, glaring daggers in Anthony’s direction. He does not spare you a single glance as he waits for your departure.

“Miss Sharma?” You scoff at the formality, waiting for him to look at you. After a few seconds, William’s pointed gaze turns toward you.

“Your presence is likely needed elsewhere, and if I am not mistaken, it is highly inappropriate to be with Viscount Bridgerton unchaperoned,” He sounds like your mother, and you do nothing to cover your scowl.

“I know not of your issue, and I do not like whoever this is before me. When you find the time to pull your head out of your arse, then and only then will I happily enjoy your presence. Good day Lord Beauregard,” Your mocking curtsy’s evident before you stomp from the gardens into Aubrey Hall. The rest of the day continues in a blur of your mother preparing you and Edwina for lunch. In the middle of your mother doing your hair, a tap on the door becomes the room's focal point. Mary calls out enter, to which a maid reveals a letter for you from the Duke.

Lady (Y/n),

My apologies for my demeanor earlier. I am cross with my very best friend, and I fear I took it out on you. I will not be in attendance for lunch, for I fear tensions run far too high between Anthony and I. I will be in attendance at the ball. Until then.

Lord Beauregard

“Why is the Duke cross with the Viscount? They are dear friends,” Your mother says, reading over your shoulder, shrugging lazily at the neat cursive you toss it aside.

“Lord Beauregard is upset with Lord Bridgerton? Maybe that is why he did not propose?” Edwina says. You say nothing as Kate observes you as Edwina and your mother continue theorizing. Newton nuzzles at your feet as you hold your tongue. Your mother excuses herself, leaving the three of you alone. Kate still urges Edwina to recognize that she has no shortage of options in terms of suitors. This reality matters little, Edwina speaks passionately, and you cannot discredit her logic. Anthony can indeed provide her with the life she wants—deserves. Kate sighs, looking toward you. Shrugging your shoulders, you scratch the top of Newton’s head. Edwina keeps her gaze low as she speaks cautiously, “Sisters, I’ve been thinking.”

“Clearly,” You mutter under your breath, earning a pointed stare from Kate. Edwina’s shoulders fall as she glances between the two of you. “Apologies, bon, continue.”

Edwina straightens her posture lifting her chin. Raising your eyebrow, you cannot help the faint quirk of your lips. The anticipation of Edwina’s following words nearly comical, far too dramatic for your liking, “I am now quite certain I know why he has not yet made his declaration.”

Kate stiffens, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Edwina. The action terse, earning a furrow in your eyebrows at her. Edwina looks between the two of you with this confidence that you are certain has the strength of wet tissue paper. Her features too frail, and her voice far too delicate, “It's because of the two of you. (Y/n) you push too harshly at him and Kate; you hate one another.”

Edwina crosses the room crossing her arms, contemplating the situation. You eye Kate, her posture loosens, and a long breath leaves her. She looks back at you, and the pause lasts far longer than it should. Kate shakes her gently while turning to Edwina, “Uh, hate is probably too strong a word.”

“And quite frankly, I have been going rather easy on the Viscount,” You say, leaning back in your seat, taking note to later ask Kate what’s going on. Edwina's eyes widen, a glint flashing across her irises. “Oh no, whatever it is you’re thinking, I already hate it.”

“It is clear from your exchanges with the Viscount that he shares the feelings you each have for him. (Y/n) the two of you often banter, but the line between friendship and disdain is far too blurry. Kate, the two of you simply bicker, the line is very clear, and you are on the wrong side of it. All of this time, I thought I needed help getting him to fall in love with me. But I now realize I neeapparentting him to fall in love with both of you,” Edwina speaks softly, joining you on the couch. You can feel Kate’s gaze searing into your skin as she frowns at Edwina.

“Well, I don’t know about love, but the Viscount and I have recently found some common ground. I actually gave him my blessing earlier today,” You speak casually, watching Edwina squeal excitedly. She quickly pecks your cheek before turning to Kate with a soft smile. Kate’s sharp stare does not leave you even as Edwina urges Kate to try harder.

“I have not given up, I will not give up,” Edwina says with a dreamy look in her eyes. She rests her head on your shoulder, failing to see the tense stare between the two of you. Kate wastes no time in asking Edwina to go retrieve your mother.

At the closing of the door, the room still, you both stare each other waiting for the other to speak. Newton whines softly from the floor, the tension all-consuming in the sunlit room. You scoff, crossing your arms, “If you have something to say, just say it. The shared looks with Daphne and William and looks of scrutiny are becoming rather irritating.”

Kate huffs as her shoulders fall. She glances around the room before her eyes come back to you. The second she speaks, you do nothing to hide the grimace that takes your features, her tones gentle. Too gentle, you know it all too well, “Have you lost your mind? Why would you give Anthony your blessing? This will only further complicate things.”

“Do not patronize me, Kate. What are you even on about? We do not have to like him, Kate, but we cannot deny that he can give Edwina the life she wants. A large family, simple affections, dutiful husband,” You stand up with an incredulous glint in your eyes.

“A life where her husband and sister have feelings for each other?” Kate’s words rip through you. The weight of her allegation thinning the air around you. You blink several times as though if you do it enough, it will reset time, virtually ending this conversation.

“I would never hurt Edwina like that. That is a vile accusation,” You seethe, stepping closer to Kate, the breeze from the window cooling the fury that burns your skin. Kate places her hands cautiously on your shoulders. She knows how to anger you just as easily as soothe you.

“I know, bon, but we cannot ignore the truth of the matter,” Kate says, biting the inside of your cheek; you shake her hand off your shoulder. At the window, you peer out at nothing, in particular, swallowing thickly.

“He is courting Edwina, that is all,” You do not look at her as you speak, busying yourself with the many who prepare the backyard of Aubrey Hall with tables and umbrellas.

“I confronted him during Pall Mall about this subject matter. He, too, dismissed me. Neither of you even deny your feelings, only emphasize the inappropriate nature to which your relationship treks dangerously close,” Kate says, being greeted with your silence as you focus as though the workers perform for you. A long sigh fills the silence, “I do not wish to upset you, sister. We swim in precarious waters. If not careful, we’ll drown.”

You turn to Kate, your eyes glassy. Neither of you move, and Edwina’s jubilant voice sounds in the corridor. Before the door opens, you speak barely above a whisper, “We’re friends, that is all.”

Edwina rushes into the room ahead of your mother. She runs to the clothing, insistent on picking her best dress. Your mother glances between you and Kate. It seems she catches all that Edwina misses, and still, no one speaks a word of it.

Though not customary, you wear a sleeveless apricot dress that your mother forces you to pair with a sheer shawl. You walk without a destination with Kate through the backyard, the sea of faces, unfamiliar--the people, uninteresting.

“Sisters!” You can recognize Edwina’s light tone anywhere, her voice lacking the faint bass of your tone. Edwina sits with Anthony. Kate glances your way as Anthony meets your gaze. The pause brief. You glance at Kate before both of you look back to Edwina, her smile beaming. If she notices the hesitancy, she does not show it. “Come sit with us!”

Anthony rises as you both approach. As you approach the seat across from Anthony, Kate stands by the chair across from Edwina. Your eyebrows pinch as you look at Anthony, now questioning every little detail about his demeanor—every little detail about your own.

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony stands with his hands behind his back, dutifully nodding at both of you. You fight every urge to call him Serg.

“Lord Bridgerton,” Kate says. You nod your head fighting your better nature. The boundary between yourself and your potential brother-in-law now hazy. You like his disdain, maybe even prefer it. Contempt can be understood, but anything else resembles putting together a puzzle with missing pieces. You always did like to hide away parts of the puzzles to avoid finishing them.

The three of you sit down, sharing awkward glances as Edwina smiles, sticking out amongst the polite smiles. Anthony clears his throat, momentarily filling the silence. You fidget with a string hanging from your dress as Edwina looks at Kate.

“Did you tell the Viscount about your bee sting?” Your eyes cut to Kate, then Anthony as the question seemingly stills the table further. Kate chuckles softly. She looks at Anthony, speaking plainly. He offers a mock ah that earns an eye roll as you fiddle with your dress string. Edwina’s gaze turns to you, “Sister, you are quiet. Are you alright?”

“Tired perhaps,” Shrugging, Edwina huffs softly but maintains her chipper smile. The table conversation relies focally on Edwina bouncing between the three of you. Edwina suggests that Anthony give you and Kate a tour before you can decline; both Anthony and Kate speak over each other.

“I’ll be shooting with the other gentlemen. The party is to leave quite soon, I’m afraid,” Anthony offers a charming smile toward Edwina. Your younger sister perks up, not missing the opportunity to announce your adept skills in tracking and Kate’s excellent shot. Kate scoffs as Anthony laughs, seemingly dismissing the revelation.

“Do you not think it true?” Kate says. Benedict approaches, reminding Anthony it’s almost time to go. You cannot fight the grin off your lips at the sight of Kate. She has that look on her face. The one where she gets crazy competitive and enables your shenanigans.

Anthony chuckles, glancing at you just as you roll your eyes and laugh, “Perhaps your sister excels in fields with straight aim and level ground, but surely they would have some trouble managing—“

“Well, that certainly wasn’t condescending at all,” You murmur very clearly, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. Kate follows with her own question as Anthony steps further into it. Benedict smiles largely as his oldest brother crashes and burns rather quickly.

“I only mean to say—“ Anthony's slow drawl fuels your amusement. He meets your gaze, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

“Because we are women?” Kate says.

“No. I did not say that.” Anthony's gaze swiftly turns to Kate. At this point, he fumbles to clarify his point, merely shoving his foot farther into his mouth.

“But you implied it,” You point out, glancing at Benedict, whose grin falls as Anthony looks at him. Anthony then chuckles, speaking with a newfound diction, “Ladies, do not hunt.”

Kate quickly distinguishes between what ladies are and are not allowed to do. You bite your bottom lip, mirroring Benedict’s grin as Edwina redirects the conversation. Before you know it, you chuckle while changing in your room as Kate grumbles about Anthony, her irritation of the smug Bridgerton allowing you reprieve from her hefty assumptions. You push her accusation and William's proposal to the back of your mind. The fresh country air pulls a large smile to your lips. The glances from the other men barely reach you as Kate glares at them. Your and Kate's chaperone struggling like a fool on her horse behind the two of you. You sit on the back of Kate’s horse, your eyes taking in all the greenery, specifically the dirt that sits just faintly visible beneath it. The untrained eye would miss the faint but present signs of life in the area. One of the gentlemen up ahead calls the hunting party to the right.

“To the right?” You mutter, your eyebrows pinching as you glance over Kate’s shoulder. Several men steer their horses right as your eyes lock on Anthony’s back, the mocking tone leaving you with ease, “Viscount Bridgerton, do we intend to merely gaze at nature this day?”

“I do like your riddles, Miss Sharma, but I would love it if you spoke plainly,” Anthony says, his overly saccharine smile matching his mocking tone. Kate supplants Benedict spot riding next to Anthony, putting the two of you in clear view of the other.

“My sister's, right. Look, tracks are going off to the left. You can see the cloven shape in the moss,” Kate says. You spot her find, nodding your head as you gesture to the closest tree to the tracks, “The markings of the tree, deer like to rub their antlers against them.”

“Let’s stay with the group. If we find nothing, I shall offer myself up for both your target practice,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you scoff.

“You shall most likely come out unscathed as my target but rest assured, Kate won’t miss,” You taunt, tilting your head mockingly. Anthony narrows his eyes at you, a smile ghosting upon his lips. Kate glances between the two of you, sighing as she clears her throat, ending the moment as swiftly as it arrives. Silence blankets the three of you. You rest your head on the back of Kate’s shoulder, huffing quietly. The silence lives for only a few seconds as you perk up, “Lord Bridgerton, do you know why Lord Beauregard departed so abruptly?”

“He likely made haste once he realized you are more vexing than you are charming,” Anthony says with a matter-of-fact tone as you roll your eyes.

“I knew you thought me charming. The rest of your family certainly finds me to be so,” You fire back instantly, a smirk on your lips as you hold your chin up high. Anthony mimics your eye roll while looking ahead, your moment short-lived as William’s proposal lingers in your mind. You continue with half-hearted amusement while drumming against the saddle, “It’s unlikely William runs from me given his desire to make me his bride.”

Your eyes fog over as you presently leave the moment, Anthony’s locked stare failing to garner your attention. His voice lacks the condescension it has carried throughout the entirety of the day. He ignores Kate’s stare as he looks at you, asking, “You are engaged?”

The drop of your stomach at his question makes you sit straight as a pencil, a distant ringing in your ear faint and nagging. If Kate notices, she does not show or voice it. It seems that minutes—no perhaps hours pass since the question leaves Anthony’s lips, and yet his brother calls after him mere seconds after. Yet the question still lingers. You find yourself considering the possibilities. Will you marry him? You should have an answer. At least that’s what you believe.

Uncertain. Unbecoming. Unworthy.

A foolish—Kate’s voice pulls you back to the present. The horse comes to a stop as the masses dismount and scatters amongst the woods, “Sister, are you alright?”

“Always,” You say, climbing down with a grin. Kate eyes you carefully, and you wonder if she can see how you bury the anxiety, smothering its fire and leaving mere smoke in its wake.

Marching through the woods, you put your focus on your surroundings. You ignore how Kate challenges the others on how to go about the hunt. Kate and Anthony, too consumed bickering to notice how you veer off further and further from each of them. The lean, long-legged ruminant mammal greets your gaze with glowing reddish-brown fur with a cream-colored underbelly. A quiet chuckle leaves your lips, placing your gun down. You watch it in awe.

“Good find, bon!” Kate whispers. She joins your side, meeting your amazed expression with a proud smile. Anthony joins the two of you quite loudly, both of you shushing him as he thankfully did not manage to rouse the deer.

“Are you two quite serious? You cannot just go off like that,” Anthony scolds. Rolling your eyes, you scoff.

“If I wished to just see the trees and shrubbery, I would’ve gladly stayed and followed your very skilled guide,” Your sardonic tone earns a mocking smile, the two of you appearing like squabbling children.

“Lord Bridgerton, would you please be quiet. Bon, it’s your find. You should take the shot,” Kate says. All eyes fall on you, a chuckle leaving your parted lips as you stammer before the words escape you. Your sentences do not form or leave you as you glance at your gun.

Anthony purses his lips as Kate holds her gun out to you. You stare at the gun for several seconds, swallowing thickly. Just as you go to refuse, your blood boils as Anthony’s words reach your ears, “Miss Sharma, cowardice looks good on no one.”

“Takes a craven to know one,” You grumble. Taking the gun from Kate’s hand, you crouch down on the fallen tree. The barrel, at a comfortable place below your shoulder against your armpit, you inhale deeply, controlling the subtle tremble of your hands. Your palms glide against the gun faintly, coating it in a light sheen of sweat. You squeeze the trigger, closing your eyes, the sound scurrying away, telling you the verdict of your shot. Standing up, the sound of the hunting party rushing overfills your ears. Biting the inside of your cheek, your mind scrambles to prepare quick comebacks at the inevitable teasing that heads your way from the Viscount Bridgerton.

Just as the first few faces arrive, Anthony’s voice fills the silence, “It headed that way. It appears I am a bit rusty, but both Miss Kate and Miss (Y/n) are to be credited for finding the deer.“

Kate meets your gaze with a knowing look, but it does not matter as neither of you says a word to the other. The bout of confusion silencing, Kate does not push the subject any further than earlier, and you are grateful.

As the sky bleeds orange, it soon blackens, leaving you to lie awake with the pattering of rain outside your window to keep you company. Like most nights, you slip out of your room to your favorite part of Aubrey Hall, the steps. Sheltered by the house without being in the place. You rest your legs on your elbows on your knees, your chin against your palms like a patient child. The rain falls in heavy droplets, and light splashes mist up, just barely reaching you. It’s constant and unwavering. Approaching steps lull as soft as the pouring rain. You glance at the cup placed at your side.

“I like to have tea on my restless nights. It’s soothing,” Anthony sits at your side, staring out at the rain as he speaks. He takes a cautious sip of his own tea, glancing over at you when silence greets him. You stare at him with a raised brow glancing between him and the cup sitting next to you.

“I prefer—“

“Coffee. Perhaps if you take the time to look at the cup, you will recognize it,” Anthony says casually, taking another sip of his tea. You look at the light brown drink, steam wafting from it to your nose. The sweet smell leaves your mouth salivating in anticipation.

“Is your plot to assassinate me, Viscount Bridgerton? Presenting as a dutiful potential future brother-in-law with a cup of arsenic in hand?” You ask. Taking the handle of your cup, you bring it to your lips while holding Anthony’s gaze, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Why, of course, my lady. Name a better pass time. I’ll wait,” He says, earning a chuckle as you wipe the remnant of the coffee from your lips. It lacks the nutmeg and cardamom you are used to. The bittersweet taste familiar but all the more different.

“Very funny, Viscount Bridgerton,” You chuckle softly, taking another sip as you peer back out at the rain. The muggy air and warm drinks flush your skin, a faint tint of reddish pink covering you. It’s serene but not perfect with the uncomfortable temperature, poor visibility, and loud silence. Yet it works. Neither you nor he moves to break this solitude. It lasts for seemingly a lifetime in mere minutes.

“William asked you to marry him?” Anthony says. You sigh, placing down your cup of coffee. You can see Anthony’s watching you from the corner of your eye.

“I presumed he would tell his best friend,” You are quick but not fast enough.

“Do you love him?” Anthony asks. You stare out at the rain with an unreadable expression. Your silence does not paint your truth to its full scope.

“I love William, I do. But I’m not in love with William,” You swallow thickly, your fingers fidgeting in your lap, “He wishes for me to be happy. Yet he does not understand what love does.”

“And what is that?” Anthony murmurs. He looks away from you, tracing the rim of his cup.

“It—“ You open your mouth just as your thoughts jumble in your mind. Taking a deep breath, Anthony glances over at you, a curious glint in his eyes. You cannot help but notice how you hold his full attention, “Love is like an anchor. It drags down to the sea. Further and further from reality, the reality is that marriage is an economic proposition. I do not wish to delve into detail, but the fantasy of love and marriage have long been sullied for me. I do not desire it nor require it. I know that may sound harsh, but it is my truth.”

“Not harsh at all. Refreshing perhaps,” Anthony says quietly. You nearly do not hear him. He takes a sip of his tea before clearing his throat, “After, uh, after my father passed, it took such a heavy toll on my mother. They shared a great love which showed all the good, but once you’ve seen the bad, it’s near—near—“

“Irreversible,” You say softly, finishing his sentence and meeting his eyes. The rain rages on, the soothing white noise all-consuming. You flinch as the sky brightens with the strike of purple lightning that flashes across the sky. The loud following booms rumbling the ancestral home.

“Perhaps it is time to retire to our rooms. Allow me to escort you,” Anthony says. You raise an eyebrow at him with a teasing grin. He rolls his eyes taking a taunting tone, “To ensure the arsenic takes, of course.”

Chuckling softly, you reach for your cup, cut off as Anthony takes it before you. You offer a mock surrender raising your hands in defeat earning a chuckle. Anthony walks you to your room door. Pausing before entering, speaking just barely above a whisper, “Tell anyone of this, and I will deny it. You are not as dreadful as you present yourself to be.”

“Great final words, my lady,” Anthony jokes, earning an eye roll as you bid him goodnight before disappearing into your room. Inside you choose not to dwell on the conversation too long, finding sleep at the touch of your face to your pillow.

You stand with Lady Danbury flittering with the uncomfortable corset rather than pay attention to all in attendance. Lady Danbury glances at you, vocalizing the arrival of Lord Beauregard. Your eyes dart across the room, considering blending into the sea of ambitious ladies and their slithering mothers.

“Miss Sharma,” William offers a warm smile while holding out a glass of wine. He apologizes for his absence, suggesting they dance.

“Mhm, do I let you off the hook so easily?” You sip your wine with a tilt of your head, a playful glint dazzling your eyes. William lets out a hearty laugh, his own sparkle shining with mischief.

“Please, oh beautiful Miss Sharma. Please forgive me, for I cannot continue without your forgiveness,” William clutches his chest, throwing his head back dramatically. The laugh that leaves your lips rises from deep in your stomach. Your cheeks grow sore as you ignore the looks of others. It’s almost easy to forget the frivolity of being in William’s company.

“Shut up and dance with me,” You chuckle. Discarding your cup, you take William’s hand, leading him to the dance floor. He bows as you curtsy, the two of you taking your uniform positions. Step back. Chin up high. Lift your hand. Turn. Each step visibly graceful and painfully robotic, controlled.

“I don’t wish to pressure you, but I cannot help but wonder where your thoughts are on my proposition of sorts,” William says. He makes the dance look easy. Each move carried out as though instinctive.

“Mhm, binding myself to the royal family who currently lacks an heir puts me dangerously close to being wed to a man who could be king someday. You offer not a simple proposition but a hefty proposal that cannot be taken lightly,” Your matter-of-fact tone impedes your count. William shifts right, covering your stumble with a light lift as he turns the both of you. When your feet touch the ground, you grumble a thank you continuing the dance, “I am too uncoordinated.”

“Some could say unique,” William counters. Taking your hand, he spins you gently.

“Unfit,” You fire back, continuing your count, step back. Hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand.

As expected of the dance, William steps forward following your step back. His nose brushes your own as his gaze does not falter, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Without a doubt.”

Your voice catches in your throat, William looking at you as imagine man did upon discovering fire. While your decision remains unclear, you are certain of one thing. The security and companionship of William’s offer. Your eyes glaze over, thoughts flooding your mind all at once. William chuckles softly, pulling away, continuing a simple sway. “I do not aim to make you uncomfortable or pressure you. Only for you to see you as I do.

“It appears Eloise is enjoying this night just as much as you,” William looks over at Eloise. She dances a few paces to your left. Her eyebrows pinched as her eyes narrowed at Lord…you cannot put a name to his face. In seconds the gentleman walks away as Lady Bridgerton follows Eloise to the stairs. Her exchange with her mother does not reach you, but the looks are all too familiar. Lady Violet's unable to understand her daughter but proceeds with gentle patience, Eloise’s frustration. Neither understands the other. You find yourself glancing across the room at your own mother.

She smiles encouragingly, blissfully unaware of your plight. Unable to see the world through your eyes.

“You should go after her,” William says, pulling away from the simple box step you’ve both resigned to. Your eyebrows furrow as William bows, with a fond smile as he speaks, “Eloise Bridgerton. A comely lady of the ton going against the norms of the system set upon them. Sound familiar?”

You cannot stop the smile that spreads across your face. William nudges his head toward the direction Eloise disappeared. Nodding your head, you follow the stairs, passing Penelope on your way. She quickly calls out where to find Eloise. It does not take you long to find her door. You offer two light knocks, turning your head to listen in.

“I wish to be alone!”

“Might I join you? I certainly wish for a reprieve from the farce that occurs in your family home,” Chuckling, you lean on the door frame. Shuffling behind the door greeting you with the distant music of the ball continuing on down the hall. After a few seconds, you are sure she will ignore you, but the opening of the door welcomes you. Eloise sits on the floor a few feet from the door. She pulls at the string of her dress, watching as a piece of hem gently unravels. You take a seat next to her, drumming your fingers against your thighs, “do you wish to talk about it?”

“Being my mothers' disappointment? Not particularly,” Eloise says with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I get it. The feeling is rather draining. Focus on it too much, and you’ll find yourself scrutinizing every detail about yourself,” You say, resting your head back against the wall. The laxness of your tone contrasts her furrowed eyebrows.

“You feel like your mothers' disappointment?” Her incredulous tone earns a chuckle as you nod with a gentle smile. “Not a chance. You’re pretty and charismatic, every mother's dream.”

“Many find me argumentative and blunt. Kate is more reserved. She has mastered proper etiquette. Edwina is the comely charismatic one. Most days, I can’t tell if Mother fears what I might do or what I might say,” Your words leave you quickly, shrugging as you near ramble. Wetting your lips, you chuckle as Eloise continues your rambling, “And even when you say something outside of the norm as they’re expecting, they act as though it surprises them. As if they don’t know our natures.”

“Ah, so my Mom isn’t special. It just comes with the having a mother package, I see,” You jest, chuckling softly as Eloise does as well. Only little shards of the prior remains. A reminder in the music that plays from downstairs as the ball continues. The fancy dresses you both wear that itch at the neckline and constrict your midsection. Reminders in your stations amongst society, “Eloise, we are the second daughters. The middle children, like shadows not clearly seen but fairly visible. Existing behind the first and last born daughters. It may sound like a sad reality, but there’s something rather amazing about us.”

“Being ignored and forced to conform?” Eloise’s eyebrows pinch as she stares at your chuffed stupor.

After a few seconds of staring off with the grin of a fool, you speak. Your voice much like velvet, appearing as though nothing in the world could hurt you, “We get to be whomever we wish, not what our mothers molded us to be for society.”

“Are you certain you don’t want to marry any of my brothers?” Eloise smiles, sliding closer. She rests her head on your shoulder. You kiss the crown of her head before resting your own head on hers. Eloise yawns as her words leave her, resembling a sleepy child as she says, “I do not wish for you to leave. My sisters don’t get me.”

“It’s okay. Sisters aren’t supposed to. It keeps things interesting that way,” You joke, earning a weak chuckle. Eloise does not say a word. She continues resting her head on your shoulder. A few minutes pass before Benedict pokes his head in, and you do your best to help get Eloise to bed. You both walk back to the main room together, where the party continues.

“Eloise seems to really like you,” Benedict says with a big grin. You furrow your eyebrows, looking at him.

“And just what exactly are you implying, Lord Bridgerton?” Your playful and straightened posture earns a laugh.

“Just that whether we become in-laws through our siblings or not, you, Miss Sharma, are always welcome back here. Especially for Pall-Mall,” Benedict says. His smile spreads across his face, even his eyes smiling.

“I will remember this invitation and hold you to it,” You tease, grinning as Benedict assures you his word is his bond. As you both walk, he cuts right at the dance floor. You cut left, following the outskirts of the dance floor. Edwina’s smile shines on the opposite side, the light of a young girl in her eyes. Reaching Edwina’s side, she clings to your arm with a giddy smile.

“Oh, sister! Lord Bridgerton and I have danced twice tonight. Twice!” Edwina exclaims, her smile shining up at you as she interlaces her fingers in yours. She gestures to the dance floor where Kate and Anthony dance. Your eyes stay on them as Edwina speaks, her words not fully registering as Anthony’s eyebrow furrow at something Kate says. Edwina gives your hand a light squeeze, “Oh, Didi, I’m certain he’d not have asked me for two if he did not have intentions for the evening. Kate should be giving her blessing as we speak. Oh, isn’t it all so exciting, sister? We shall both be wed before the season's end!”

“Yeah,” Chuckling softly, your eyes stay on Kate and Anthony. Anthony’s eyes widen before scanning around the room. His search halts as he captures your gaze. Edwina still speaks, oblivious to your lack of attention or how Kate looks between you and your staring partner. Anthony glances at the door and back at you; arching your brow, you turn to Edwina. Your pensive stare eludes her as she rambles with a large smile, painting the vision she sees of your future. Anthony politely bows to Kate before leaving the room as Kate joins you and Edwina. If she notices how your eyes follow Anthony out of the room, she does not give any inkling of it as she nods along to Edwina’s excitement. Your ears ring as the various colored gowns of the room muddle, and your vision splinters. You swallow dryly, the ringing in your ears growing louder. Pulling at the edge of your short-sleeved dress brings a faint cool to your flushed skin.

“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s voice snaps you back into the present, looking at her with a weak smile.

“Just a bit warm. I think I shall take a moment to get some air,” The words leave you quickly, almost incoherently. You do not look at Kate, her gaze burning a hole into the side of your head. The corridor outside of the ball greets you with low light and a cool breeze from the open back door. Anthony stands on the porch pacing back and forth. You look at him and then glance back at the doors that lead into the ball. You should go back inside, of this you are sure. Despite this, you take a few steps forward, your light efforts capturing his attention. You tilt your head toward the library doors before entering without a word. The room is far more lit than the hall, with many candles and closed windows drying your mouth. You eye the pitcher and cup on the desk, undoubtedly some form of alcohol—hopefully far stronger than wine.

Anthony slams the door behind him, his fists clenching as he paces. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms, your mocking tone filling the silence, “Please just share what I have done this time. The suspense is killing me.”

“When will you leave? Huh?” He asks, furrowing your eyebrows; he gives you no time to speak. A mirthless chuckle leaves his lips, “Oh, Miss Sharma, now you are one for silence?”

“What are you going on about?” You scoff, narrowing your eyes at his condescension.

“Your sister speaks of your plans to depart back to India, so when shall you leave?” Anthony grits his teeth, hissing his words as he steps closer to you. Your eyebrows quirk up, staring into his eyes, quickly identifying what lies across his face—utter betrayal. Anthony shakes his head, scoffing, “Of course, you grow silent when one desires you to speak. You live to get under my skin. I’m almost certain god has sent you to punish me.”

“Lord Bridgerton, I fear we have found ourselves in a conundrum that if it ever came to light, I fear my family would never forgive me. We mustn’t confuse our understanding and friendly nature for something entirely different. Yes, I can be infuriating and insolent, but it's a part of my charm, I think. We are just confused. A line is blurring between us,” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. How can one want to punch and kiss someone all at once? You shake your head as though to rid yourself of the thought and feeling. Internally scolding yourself for ignoring Kate’s warnings, you clear your throat, “You seek a wife of perfection, which my sister can provide. That is simply where we must stand.”

“I am a man of honor and of certainty. I have been certain of what I seek of what I want from start to finish in all things. Especially matters of my family, and yet—“ He pauses, inhaling sharply as he looks at you. The look in his eyes that was not there before that you have not seen before.

“Here, in your quick wit and inability to listen to reason, you challenge all I stand on—all my certainty. Your sister and I share understanding, but there is no shroud for what we share,” Anthony stands before you with a look of utter desperation, of devotion. His eyes reflect all you feel. The confusion, the frustration, the desire.

“Lord Bridgerton—” Straightening your posture, you clear your throat. It falls on deaf ears as Anthony steps closer, his hand ghosting over your cheek. The heat of his palm spreads across your face like wildfire that never quite touches. He speaks quietly as though coveting his words “(Y/n). Tell me you feel nothing. Tell me, your mind does not feel the temptation of this dalliance? Do you have no comprehension of how you plague me?”

Your voice sits in your throat. Every muscle in your body tense as though you await something cataclysmic. Neither of you takes your eyes off the other. His hand still cradles the air centimeters from your cheek. The crackling of the fireplace fills the silence.

It all implodes with the faintest tilt of your head into his palm. You both pull forward sharply. His hands cradle your face as your foreheads touch. You place a hand on his shoulder. The proximity dizzying. The feel of him all-consuming. You squeeze your eyes shut, the consequences be damned.

“This is wrong,” You whisper, gripping his shoulder and taking long deep breaths through your nose. His breath tickles your lips as the space between you further closes.

“Oh!” You flinch back, Daphne’s eyes looking from you to her brother. Her eyes are wide as Anthony steps toward her. She looks back at you, speaking softly as your glassy eyes stare back at her like a fearful child, “I’m sorry.”

Daphne leaves the room hastily, with Anthony chasing behind her. You walk to the desk, pouring a quick glass of the drink. The drink makes you grimace as you swallow it down in one go. You do not look up as the door opens again, crying out desperately, “I require something stronger, please!”

“Oh, Bon,” Kate says softly. You rest your hands flat on the desk letting your head hang as your tears fall beneath you. She pulls you into a tight hug, letting you sob into her shoulder. You refuse to share the source of your despair, your thoughts haunting you. Kate was right. Even William was aware, “Oh (Y/n).”

“Didi, it’s all wrong. It’s all wrong! ” You cry out, looking up at her. She cradles your face. All red and puffy.

“Bon, we will get through this, I promise you. Wipe your tears and show me the fearsome (Y/n) I know.” Kate says, kissing your forehead. She takes you up to bed, tucking you in, even brushing her fingers through your hair as you quietly cry with your back toward her. When Edwina stops in, she offers well wishes before bed. It only fuels the fire of your despair.

The following day, you rise early, bathing before hastily packing your things. You thank the heavens that Kate makes no mention of the night prior, nor does Daphne. Your goodbyes? Almost robotic as you anxiously await packing away into the carriage and leaving Aubrey Hall behind. Kate holds your hand, offering occasional light squeezes as the three of you stand by the carriage. Edwina glances at your interlaced hands and says nothing as she takes your free hand in her own, kissing the top of your hand.

The slight chill of the morning breeze does nothing to cool the warmth that holds you captive. Your palms are sweaty as your stomach wrestles itself. You look at Edwina on the brink of tears, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight.

“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s head tilts as she gently squeezes your hand. Your throat drying just before you can find your words.

“Um, I need to—“ You speak quietly, the calling of wait making you tense as you all turn toward the front door of Aubrey Hall. Anthony marches down the stairs with unwavering confidence, squeezing Kate’s hand tight; you swallow dryly.

“May I speak with you?” He says. You fail to notice how Edwina slips her hand out of yours as well as how Anthony's eyes do not meet your own. Your ears ring so loud you do not hear the words that leave Anthony’s lips, only registering the knee he takes as he holds a ring out to Edwina. Kate whispers in your ear, coaching you to keep it together as your nails dig into her palms. Edwina’s eyes are large and shining. She looks at you and Kate. The smokescreen of pending nuptials blinds her to the mournful look that holds your face. Your mother focuses too intently on Edwina and Anthony to notice but Lady Danbury? Lady Danbury eyes you with a knowing look, but still, she says nothing. As the seconds pass like hours, your expression sharpens as though the despair never existed. You look at Kate, offering a curt nod.

“I do wonder about the trim. Is it too much?” Edwina asks, standing up on the podium as your mother beams up at her. You are certain the last you saw her so happy was when your father was still alive. Sitting by the window, you lazily peer out at nothing in particular. No one comments on your icy demeanor, but you know they have noticed it.

“Nothing is too much now that the Queen is hosting,” Your mother smiles, looking from Edwina to the Modiste. As your mother continues to look over different fabrics, Edwina may like the room grows silent in her absence. Kate steals glances at you as Edwina takes in the view of her gown.

“Did I mention we will be married by the archbishop himself?” Edwina says gleefully. Kate's smile does not reach her eyes as she nods and watches you. The bride-to-be glances over at you with a frown, “Sister, did something happen between you and the Duke? You’ve been unwell since the last night before we left Aubrey Hall.”

“We are fine,” Your flat tone barely audible as you continue eyeing the bustling road outside.

“Sister, you should accept his proposal. Then we would both have royal weddings, and you would be a royal! The Queen already adores you, and I’ve seen the way Lord Beauregard looks at you,” Edwina says, her smile large and tone encouraging. You purse your lips looking over at Kate. She holds your gaze before you turn back to the window. Edwina frowns, observing the brief moment, but she says nothing. Instead, she maintains her smile, “We must get you both dresses as well. Special ones. This wedding is as much both for your triumphs as it is for mine. Both of you clearly said something that swayed him to declare himself.”

“We cannot claim credit, Bon,” Kate says, chuckling slowly while shaking her head, but Edwina insists. You chew on your bottom lip, ignoring the burn of your throat, blinking continuously. Kate reminds Edwina that you both plan to leave after the wedding if you have not accepted William’s proposal.

Back at Lady Danbury’s, you hide away in your shared room, sitting by the window lazily drumming your fingers against your leg. You let out a frustrated huff, your sulking growing utterly dull. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance at your room door, perhaps a venture outside. You stick your head out of the door, looking down both sides of the corridor before stepping lightly out. Where your mother is currently is not to your knowledge, but you know she will prevent wandering if she catches wind of it. You move carefully past the tearoom, freezing in your tracks.

“—nothing appropriate about what you’re doing proceeding with your engagement,” Kate seethes. Frowning, you press your ear to the door.

“On the contrary, I believe it is the most proper outcome for all,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you glare at the door as though he stands before you.

“Oh, and what of everything that has happened between you and my sister at Aubrey Hall?” Kate says. The silence tenses every muscle in your body as you await his answer.

“Nothing passed between Miss (Y/n) and I,” Anthony says cooly, a blatant lie. You bawl your fists. How dare he! Opening your eyes to something you could have easily continued oblivious to, only to shut you out completely. You march off to the stairs, stopping at the sight of your mother and sister at the bottom of them.

“Is that so? If I recall correctly, you appeared angrier than hornets at the prospect of her departure,” Kate says, “I can recall the way your eyes find her in every room. The way you look at her, far more than a prospective brother-in-law. If she accepts Lord Beauregard’s proposal, you will be bound to each other in a tortuous way forever. ”

“Would Miss (Y/n) and I being the ones to marry after all my public courting of Miss Edwina, be the outcome you desire?” Anthony asks. You greet them with a large smile stalling as you scratch the back of your neck.

“No, but I’m certain it’s yours,” Kate says. You make certain to enter the room first, giving Lord Bridgerton and Kate a moment to step away from each other. Anthony greets your sister and mother with a polite smile. It falters as he meets your gaze. You roll your eyes quickly, averting your gaze to your mother.

“I will return in seconds. You lot can begin without me,” You sputter, leaving the room before your mother can protest. She calls out to you, but you are already out of the door and halfway down the stairs. A pair of hands steadying you at your waist as you crash into a chest.

“Easy there. Are you always so spritely?” William chuckles, offering a warm grin as you recollect yourself. He frowns, taking a good look at you, “(Y/n) are you—?”

“If we were to wed, would you consider coming to India?” You ask. It’s selfish and wrong, complicating your situation even further if possible.

“I uh—well, I could, but once my grandfather leaves us, I will have to return. His responsibilities shall fall to me,” William says, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you, “(Y/n) I only want you to consider this if you truly see it in your future.”

“Let’s not fret over it now. Mother will wish to see you. Come,” You take his arm, pulling him along with you to the tearoom. Your mother and Edwina smile happily at William’s presence in the room. Anthony stares at the two of you, his eyes locked on your intertwined arms.

“Well, now that you are all here. I have news. Lord and Lady Sheffield sent word they are in London,” Lady Danbury says. You do not hide your grimace, looking up at Lady Danbury in pure disgust. Kate looks at your mother as Edwina smiles.

“Our grandparents?” Edwina says, looking at you. You look down at the door, counting each line you can see in the wood.

“Indeed. It seems they read the engagement announcement and wish to make your acquaintance and, uh, that of your future husband, of course,” Lady Danbury ignores the lack of reaction from all of you except Edwina. You scoff quietly, muttering to yourself, “Of course they do.”

“They are already in town?” Kate asks. William glances between you and your family, and so does Anthony. The best friends look at each other before Anthony addresses the elephant in the room. You glance at your mother, the way she controls her shallow breathing—looking around as though seeking an escape. Her mannerisms are familiar, too familiar.

Anthony escorts Edwina to the promenade as William escorts you. Your disposition even lower than before somehow. William stops in his tracks, crossing his arms. You stop not looking up, just waiting for him to rejoin you. When he does not, you look up with a frown.

“I’ve never seen you so, so gloomy. There must be some form of an insult or jest just charging up in there,” William smiles gently, watching as you shake your head, lowering your gaze. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

You sigh as the two of you walk again, nodding your head slowly, “My grandparents are just awful. Overcritical and impossible to please. I’m in no mood for them presently.”

“Well then, before the impending doom that comes from your grandparents' presence, perhaps you shall humor me?” William asks, standing on the ports and gesturing to the secured rowboat. “If I become insufferable, I will happily allow you to throw me overboard.”

“Promise?” You say quietly, fighting the grin that takes your lips as William smirks.

“You have my word,” He says, offering his hand out to her. She takes it, allowing him to help her into the board. He then gets in himself, untying the rope and pushing off the port. “In the colder season, this freezes over. It’s rather fun to step on the top of the ice and glide around. I tend to fall a lot doing it, but it’s all in good fun, I swear it.”

“Really?” The laugh that leaves your lips appears foreign, replacing your petulant stares. You look over the side of the water, picturing William struggling to stay atop the frozen terrain.

“Careful, you’re tilting the boat,” William says, raising an eyebrow. You smirk. Your eyes shine with a glint of mischief.

“What, like this?” You say, shifting your weight from one side to the other William gives grips the edge of the boat, giving you a hard stare. After a few seconds, it melts into a grin as he dips his hand in the water, splashing it up at you. You squeal, shielding your face as you splash water up at him. The two of you laugh like giddy children, gaining the attention of the many who walk around the promenade.

Kate chaperones Edwina and Anthony. They watch the two of you. Anthony’s gaze does not leave your form. Edwina’s words fall on deaf ears as he locks onto your laughter. Your younger sister gasping, pulls Anthony back into the present as the boat overturns, sending both you and William into the water. Both you and William resurface, laughing infectiously, not caring how everyone watches the two of you.

“You tipped the boat over, not me!” You exclaim, helping William push the boat toward the port.

“Says the one who insisted on rocking the boat,” William playfully scoffs as the two of you near the port flipping the boat right side up. You look up, grinning as Kate shakes her head at you, and Edwina happily points out your better mood.

“It seems you always know how to lift her spirits, Lord Beauregard,” Edwina says with a smile. William smiles at your sister, giving her a polite nod, his smile lessening as his gaze moves to Anthony.

“Miss Sharma, please allow me,” Anthony says, offering his hand out to you as he bends down. You stare at it, set on ignoring it, but Kate gives you a look as she gestures to the wandering eyes around you all. Accepting his hand begrudgingly, you quickly pull away from him, standing next to Kate. Your dress clings to you, dripping water down your entire body. William climbs onto the pier turning to fasten the boat back to the log, but Anthony’s already tying it tight.

“Fret not, friend. You always did struggle with tying knots,” The dig’s not lost on you nor Kate. You glare at Anthony, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Anthony and William stare at each other, the tension high as you look around, noticing the other onlookers growing. You narrow your eyes, stepping forward and pushing your palm against Anthony’s side. He stumbles forward into William, the two crashing into the lake.

Your jaw drops as they hurdle into the water, Edwina exclaiming your name as you fail to fight back your laughter. The water splashing up at the three of you, only fueling your amusement. Kate's eyes widen as her gaze bounces between you and the two lords in the water.

Anthony plants his hands flat on the pier glaring up at you as he lifts himself up first. His soaking-wet shirt now sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. Kate nudges your side, reminding both you and Edwina of the inappropriate nature of staring. Even as the words leave her lips, the three of you shamelessly watch him. The show not ending as William pulls himself up. It’s wrong, oh so wrong, but every passing thought in your mind bubbles, leaving a warmth at your core.

“That was fun,” Smiling, you look between your sisters, who both shake their heads at you. Kate suggests it’s time to head back in worry of you getting sick. Your dress still drips water as you casually bounce on the balls of your feet. In the carriage, you sit next to Kate, resting your head on her shoulder while gently kicking Edwina’s feet.

“Bon, your hair is still wet,” Kate sighs, failing to shrug you off. Edwina giggles softly, moving her feet as you follow hers.

“Quite observant, Miss Sharma,” You chuckle, rubbing your hair against her side, earning a groan as she pushes you away. Edwina covers her soft chuckles with her hand as she watches the two of you. The carriage ride’s mostly quiet beyond a few snickers and Kate’s annoyance with your persistence.

Back at Lady Danbury’s, you openly gape at the sight of an indisputable fact—you are indeed your mothers' child. For hours your mother rushes around like a mad woman. She rushes about the house between making sure you all wear the perfect dress to the intricate styles of your hair and the jewelry you accessorize with. Not a single thing out of place, snarkily reminding you that today’s not the day for nonsense, as she calls it.

Kate offers you a weak smile as you roll your eyes grumbling beneath your breath. If either your mother or Kate dislikes the Sheffields more than you, they hide it well. The last time you can recall seeing them at the ripe age of five, you glared at them for the entirety of your visit. Their interest only stemming from the gossip about your exciting personality, to later deem you unruly. You never did understand why your mother even sent you there. The damage—irreversible.

“It’s just one dinner,” Kate says, fiddling gently with your hair smoothing out every little menial imperfection.

“Yes, one dinner of those people we have to call family scrutinizing every little detail about us. About mother. About you,” You take a deep breath, your expression hardening as you swallow dryly. Edwina enters the room doing a light twirl, her smile large. There’s a clear difference between who can remember meeting the Sheffields and who does not. Edwina’s smile falters at the sight of your pensive stare. She walks, placing her hands on your shoulders with an encouraging smile.

“There is still time to take a small nap if you need didi. I can distract Mama,” Edwina says, chuckling softly as you shake your head, leaning your head onto her hand.

“I appreciate it, bon, but I know a nap will do nothing but agitate me further,” You glance at the door watching your mother jet past. A chuckle leaves your lips, “And quite frankly, Mama as well.”

“Edwina dear, I need to speak with your sister alone,” Your mother enters the room, taking a deep breath as she softly pants. Edwina smiles, nodding her head and leaving the room without a further word. Lady Mary looks at you with her lips pursed.

“I know, Mother. I do not require further instructions for dinner tonight. Be punctual, proper, and pleasant,” You huff, crossing your arms. Lady Mary sighs, walking over. She takes your hands.

“Oh, my wildflower child, you are all those things. I’ve come not to lecture you but to check on you. I know you carry strong feelings about my parents, and if at any point this dinner is too much, you do not have to stay for the entirety of it,” She says softly. You know her words are untrue. To leave dinner so abruptly would only further their thoughts of you.

“Right, so they can nod their heads and look down on me as the defective one of their bloodline. I will not,” Your words are sharp and tense. You stand with perfect posture. Lady Mary shakes her head, but her protests mean nothing, do nothing. You stand, appearing the complete antithesis of the girl everyone knows. “If I could get through two weeks of your parents as a child, then I can get through one dinner. I no longer wish to continue discussing this topic, Mother.”

She takes a half step back from you, keeping your hands in hers. The glint in her eyes as familiar as the one all those years ago when you returned home, guilt. She does not say another word. Nodding her head, she kisses the tops of your hands softly before leaving the room. You fan yourself with your hands, the room uncomfortably hot. The faint tremble of your hands clear as you clasp them in front of you, taking a long deep breath.

After a few minutes, you leave the room in search of your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles, walking with her cane as she calls out to you. She compliments your appearance, the rich red gown complimenting your skin tone. Lady Danbury wears her knowing smirk with a present glint in her eyes, seemingly always present. The two of you enter the room together, clearly interrupting your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles as you appear ready to walk the plank.

“Our guests have arrived,” Lady Danbury announces with a large smile. Her eyes solely on Edwina, who giggles with a giddy smile, leaving the room hastily. Before either of you can follow, Lady Danbury's hand shoots out, halting you as she sidesteps Kate. Her smile falls as eyes look between the two of you.

“You may spare us the instruction, Lady Danbury. We know we are to be on our best behavior,” Kate says with a polite smile. You bite the inside of your cheek, staring off with a blank expression.

“You think me an unfeeling harridan,” She says to Kate before turning to look at you, “and you hide from me as though I see right through you. Well, ladies, I am hosting this dinner for both your sakes.”

“You know nothing of my relationship with those people,” You scoff, glaring up at her.

“And yet I do,” Lady Danbury says, her gaze softening just a tad. Mother told her. You look away from her crossing your arms as you shift on the balls of your feet. “Going forward, Edwina’s betrothal may be the end of certain hopes you’ve harbored regarding the Viscount but access to the Sheffield fortune.”

“I want nothing to do with those people or the Viscount. I will take a lifetime of struggle before I am under the Sheffields' control or ruin this for Edwina. You speak so far out of place,” You narrow your eyes at her, but she merely chuckles.

“Oh dear, you can do better than that. Dear, the life of independence you seek is close, Kate. And you (Y/n)? You have been presented with an opportunity of a lifetime. A marriage to a royal. Security for the rest of your life and full independence from your grandparents. I implore you both to think of the reward of the coming events. Think of your futures. Deny the feelings and passions as you please, but once it cools. You dear have an abundant future ahead of you, where you and your sisters are happy,” Lady Danbury stands in front of both of you. Nostalgia dances in her eyes as she smiles with a bittersweetness to her expression. You blink away the heat in your eyes, taking a deep breath to will away the bundle of nerves that dance in your stomach. When neither of you says a word, Lady Danbury smiles once more, “Come along, girls, it’s time for dinner.”

In the hallway, Edwina follows closely behind Lady Danbury. Her light pink dress sparkling in the warm candlelight. You walk with your arm folded into Kate’s, your jewel-tone gowns matching just as much as your forced polite smiles.

“Ah, Lord and Lady Sheffield, it has been too long,” Lady Danbury’s jubilant demeanor easing the suffocating tension. Not long enough, in any other circumstance, these words leave your lips, but now? Now you keep your head high and posture statue-like, “May I present Miss Sharma, Miss (Y/n), and Miss Edwina Sharma.”

You and Edwina stand before your grandparents with differing expressions as Lady and Lord Sheffield take you both in.

“Oh, my dears, look at the two of you. Aren’t they lovely?” Lady Sheffield gushes, looking between the two of you. You meet Lord Sheffield's gaze, both of you eyeing the other with similar scrutiny. Edwina voices pleasantries for the both of you. Their questions and invitations flowed quickly, evidently aimed at Edwina. They remember you just as vividly as you remember them. Still, you keep your head high, posture perfect, and expression neutral.

“Mother. Father,” Your mother greets them, leaving a chilling silence in her wake.

“I do enjoy the opera. My sister Kate is the one who introduced me to it,” Edwina says, maintaining her high spirits as she smiles over at Kate. Your jaw clenches at the forced smile Lady Sheffield sends Kate’s way, her disapproval coated in honey. Another painstakingly loud silence follows before Lady Danbury recommends they all head to the dinner table. Her diversion from the simmering tension was swift, temporarily successful.

You meet Anthony’s gaze, offering a mocking smile before following behind the others. His eyes follow you into the room, a soft sigh leaving his lips as you join Kate’s side. Edwina walks hand in hand with Lady Sheffield, who dotes upon her.

At the table, Kate sits to your right, with Lady Sheffield to your left. To your further misfortune, Anthony sits in front of you. You ignore the hole he stares into your head at the start of dinner.

“And, of course, you must be our guests at the Sheffield Manor. It is nothing compared to the estates at Aubrey Hall, to be sure, but I think it a most pretty part of Hertfordshire,” You stare at the place setting as though it’s the most incredible thing you have ever seen. Analyzing every minuscule detail of the fall colors as a better alternative to the active conversation. If you notice the glances from Kate and Anthony, you do not show it.

“Do you shoot? We a have a fine stock of birds, and you're always welcome,” Lord Sheffield says, his voice booming through the dining room. Anthony’s gaze flicks from you to your grandfather. He thanks Lord Sheffield for the invitation, expressing his enjoyment in shooting.

“Kate and (Y/n) do as well. (Y/n) is an excellent tracker, and Kate, a great shot. A most efficient duo. All three of them nearly bagged a stag on our trip to the country,” Edwina looks at you, smiling. You mirror her smile before lowering your gaze once more. The cold food and untouched table setting sit staring back at you. Lady Sheffield's mirthless chuckle fills your ears as she looks over at you. Her faux saccharine smile and words pointed, “How unusual. Do they teach young ladies to hunt and shoot in India?”

“Only the fortunate ones,” Kate mutters, snickering; you bite the inside of your cheek. It’s the first real smile on your lips all night. You catch your mothers' smirk at Kate, her gaze shifting to you. She wears a soft smile.

“Uh, Lord and Lady Sheffield, how long do you plan to stay in town?” Kate asks politely. You reach for your cup of wine, taking a long sip. Say in the morning, preferably in the hour.

“Oh, we shall stay for the wedding. And of course, for (Y/n)’s when she weds the Queen’s nephew,” Lady Sheffield speaks definitely with merriment to her tone. She speaks as though she’s boasting of something she’s accomplished as if she knows you—any of you truly.

“I have yet to decide if I will accept his proposal,” Your neutral facade wavers, your jaw clenching once more. The grip on your glass so tight that the brown of your knuckles shines white.

“Oh nonsense dear, you shall not let such a generous offer pass you,” Lady Sheffield chuckles as though she shares a beautiful joke. Only Lord Sheffield laughs. You take a deep breath covering your grimace with another long sip of wine. The bounce of your leg beneath the tablecloth gently rattles the glass atop the table. To your disdain, Lady Sheffield continues, “Imagine. The Queen herself overseeing my granddaughter's nuptials and welcoming my other granddaughter into her own family, with all things considered. Her majesty is kind to be so forgiving after everything that has happened.”

“Now, now. We are all family here,” Lord Sheffield says. You finish your wine, letting out a long shaky sigh. To your surprise, your grandfather tries and fails to deter his wife.

“An earl, no less than twelve thousand acres. Any other young lady would’ve fallen to her knees in gratitude that her parents were showing such care,” Lady Sheffield says. You glance at your mother, your patience thinning by the second. She shakes her head slightly. Lady Violet's attempts to switch the topic falls on ears, your deep breaths growing louder. Even Lady Danbury tries to engage Lady Sheffield in pleasant conversation, but it’s clear the elephant in the room will not be ignored. “And all for what? A mere clerk, was he? And with a child from a previous marriage to God-knows-who.”

“My mother has a name,” Kate maintains an even tone, her shoulders squaring as you now openly glare at your grandmother. The wine warms your skin, shoving you closer to your wit's end.

“We could not show our faces in society for years. Not that she should care. She simply sailed away from all of us with that man,” Lady Sheffields says, your fist hitting the table with a loud bang. Reveling in how she flinches, her eyes widen at your nerve. The room stills, all eyes on you.

“That man is my father, and you do well to speak of him with reverence. You cry about appearance in society when you ignore your beautiful family in favor of acrimonious feelings toward the glue that holds the three of us together. Kate may not share our mother, but she is the very best of us. So you will not sit here and speak ill of her before me,” You practically hiss your words as you stare at your grandmother. There’s so much more that you must say that you want to say, but as always, you are never truly heard.

“Dear, we do not aim to hurt you or your half-sister. It is your mother who sailed away with that man robbing us of our two grandchildren.” Lady Sheffield ignores your comment about your father, omitting him entirely. The tenderness in her words like poison in your ears.

“Three. Your three grandchildren. I have three daughters with whom you have had every opportunity to form a connection. Like a fool, I sent one of them in hopes of you all fostering a connection only for her to return, unlike herself. But at the end of it all, the choice to shun us was yours alone,” Your mother speaks with an impressive blend of being stern and soft-spoken. “And do not think I took it lightly being cast out by the only family I had ever known. I was heartbroken, indeed. But in time, I came to see that, in your cruelty, you did us all a great service.”

“Mother, you require no explanation for these people,” You say, earning a warm smile from your mother as she looks at you.

“I have always admired your warrior spirit, my sweet girl, but this is not your fight,” Lady Mary says. You nod your head swallowing thickly as Lord Sheffield tries to dissuade you all from continuing. Your mother stares at her own, “When you cast me out, you set me free. Free to raise my daughters far from your constant judgment and craven demands that they should chase wealth and titles above all else!”

You smile to yourself. Never had you seen your mother so defiant. Never had you felt so close to her, so like her. Lady Sheffield scoffs, “You are a fine one to talk. You turn your nose up at my parenting but look at your children. The child not of this family is a spinster who muddles the very integrity and reputation of your own daughters. (Y/n) shoots and speaks with volatility unbecoming of a young lady. It’s a miracle she has the prospect of securing English nobility? It is clear Edwina will succeed, and I will always question the very foundation of how with such influences.”

Unbecoming. Unfit. Unworthy.

The words ring loudly in your ears, inhaling sharply, the table squabble no longer reaches you. Your shoulders drop as your stomach turns. Lady Sheffield rehashing the terms of yours and Edwina’s trust fund barely reaching you. You swallow the burn in your throat, struggling to blink away the water that wells in your eyes. Gaze low; the high-pitched ringing in your ears—disorienting.

“That is enough!” Anthony’s voice rips you from your own head. He looks from your grandmother to meet your teary-eyed gaze. His own only softens for a second at the sight of you before turning back to your grandparents, his expression one of frustration, “I can only think you’ve been exiled from good society because of your deficient manners rather than any other sin. Since the moment you arrived, you have failed to show the proper respect for the Sharma family and I will not stand for it.”

“I declare—“ Lord Sheffield says.

“I will not stand for it. Lady Mary has done admirably in raising her daughters. They are intelligent, kind, and loyal women. A credit to both their parents. And since you clearly do not wish to jeopardize your social standing by associating with such company, I suggest you do not. You may leave at once!” Anthony declares, staring at him. Your head spins as it did that night in Aubrey Hall. The weight of your reality harrowing as you glance at Edwina. Anthony rises from his chair. Your grandmother voices her disbelief as he walks away from the table. Standing by the door, he calls out, “Please send for Lord and Lady Sheffield’s carriage. They can wait outside. And do not trouble yourself waiting for an invitation to the wedding, for you shall not receive one.”

Your mother’s the first to apologize, but Anthony sternly announces he and his mother will be departing immediately. The tension in the air far more thick than it began. Your mother and Kate run after Edwina leaving you and Lady Danbury alone. After a few seconds, you exit the room without a further word, ignoring her knowing stare. You do not realize where your feet carry you through the corridors until you see the back of Lady Violet and Anthony.

“Lord Bridgerton, a word,” You call out, narrowing your eyes as he disregards you, “I have spent this night being insulted and humiliated. All I’m asking for is a moment of your time.”

“I owe you nothing,” Anthony huffs, looking back at you. You tilt your head, not needing to say, but you do with actual words. He pauses, sighing before telling his mother he will meet her at their home. You walk him to one of the many side rooms, your words leaving you quickly as you assure him Edwina did not know.

“It is clear she was as much in the dark as I. I am not upset with your sister. Is there something further you wish to discuss?” Anthony speaks sternly, his hands behind his back as he glowers at you.

Your eyebrows furrow, his understanding words not matching his expression. You continue cautiously, “No, uh, I just wanted to thank you for what you did back in there.”

“That is of no import. I take it there’ll be no dowry. Now that the Sheffields have withdrawn their support,” He speaks mechanically, like a cog in the machine of English nobility. You open your mouth, but no words leave you, “I’ll take your silence as confirmation. Clearly, both Miss Edwina and I have been misled, and it is best to call off this doomed engagement.”

“Oh, now you suddenly lack the desire to wed my sister,” You scoff, shaking your head, narrowing your eyes at him, “I am many things, but a fool is not one. Something is happening between us, and you’re using this lapse as an out for the mess you put us in.”

“Says the one who weaponizes her disdain for marriage as a tool against her grandparents,” He counters his accusatory tone and steps forward, doing little to faze you.

“The resentment of my grandparents and my resulting outlook on marriage is of no consequence to our dilemma. You are to wed Edwina, and I am to return to India with Kate,” You watch as his jaw clenches at the mention of India. Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Why do you insist upon casting Edwina aside?”

“You are the very source of all my strenuous relationships. I jeopardize my longest and dearest friendship due to your very presence. Your sister, Kathani, battles me daily not against my union with Miss Edwina but how I look upon you. Now you wish me to bind myself to you for all eternity, doomed to never have you in the light to which I desire. I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor thins and weakens with every interaction we share. Vanquishing you from my mind proves to be futile, as you plague my being without endless.” You move away from pacing faintly as you shake your head. His eyes stay on you, longing—pleading for a response.

“No, Lord Bridgerton. I cannot—I will not take part in this dalliance any longer. You confuse your feelings. Edwina is who you seek,” You speak barely above a whisper, your voice catching in your throat as he steps closer again. His hand on your cheek.

“Yet you are who I found. You challenge my feelings, yet you make no objection to my close proximity. You told your sister you intend to bend my nerves till they break. Miss Sharma, they have broken. Give me your love, hate, disgust. I want it all as long as it comes from you, only from you. You are infectious and come without a cure,” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your own. Shamelessly allowing him to drink you in, and as fast as the moment comes, it goes. He pulls away, walking hastily to the door, his words low, “I must take my leave.”

You let out a breath you had not been aware of holding. Your hand comes to cover your lips as your tears flow. The door opens once more, but you do not look up, uncaring of who has found you.

“Oh, Bon,” Kate says at your side. She pulls you into her arms. She knows the looks, the pauses, the warnings—Kate’s known all along.

“Didi, I fear you have been right. The Viscount and I dance around feelings I cannot explain nor reveal to Bon. I have ruined everything. I will ruin everything.” Kate shushes you softly, cradling you in her arms like an injured animal. When she finally coaxes you to walk with her to your shared room, you cannot meet Edwina’s eye inside.

“Oh, Didi,” Edwina gasps, taking your hands as she leans down, attempting to meet your gaze. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath in as you build your courage.

“Bon, I fear you will hate me, but you must know I carried no intention to keep this from you so—” Your voice wavers as you still fail to meet her eye. Once the words are out, you cannot hide them. Not from Edwina, not from yourself.

“Didi, I could never hate you. I understand your disdain against marriage now, and once I am married to the Viscount, there will be ample funds to provide for all of us,” Her words strike you quickly. You say her name softly, but she shakes her head, “I want nothing more than to be his wife. His Viscountess. But first, he must forgive us. Do you think he will?”

Kate glances at you, your teary-eyed expression hardening. Before your sister's eyes, you bury it. You bury it so deep that not even looking in the mirror will show you signs of it. You clear your throat nodding your head, “He will. I will make certain of it, Bon.”

You lay with Edwina in her bed, rubbing her scalp as you soothe her to bed. As sleep captures her, you look at Kate. Mouthing your words, ending the previous conversation for good.

“He must marry Edwina.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton imagine #Anthony Bridgerton au #Anthony Bridgerton fanfic #Daphne Bridgerton imagine #Benedict Bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton imagine #Eloise Bridgerton imagine #Francesca Bridgerton imagine #Gregory Bridgerton imagine #hyancith Bridgerton imagine #Edwina Sharma imagine #Kathani Sharma imagine #Kate Sharma imagine #Queen charlotte imagine #edmund bridgerton #violet bridgerton #lady whistledown #penelope featherington #Penelope featherington imagine

[lowkeyfalleninlove]

It’s a crime against humanity that we didn’t get to see Anthony and Kate get married. Like WHYY??? LET ME SEE!!! LET ME IN!!!

#bridgerton #kathani sharma #anthony bridgerton #kanthony #I NEED MY MARRIED BBYS #I WILL NOT SETTLE FOR THE ANTHONYS IMAGINATION #THAT WAS NOT A WEDDING!! #bridgerton s2

[arosesstorm]

colin bridgerton serie 

ep seven

words count: 2.4k            fem reader! x Colin Bridgerton

warning: friends to lovers trope

summary: y/n Dayton and Colin Bridgerton were friends and they swore they'd always be but it takes a great deal of bravery to love someone, more to keep loving them when it hurts the most.

English is not my first language loves, trying my best, enjoy :)

Knocks on her door distracted her from her reading.

"Come in" she mumbled, her hand resting on the page she was just reading as her mother popped her head inside. 

"Am I disturbing you?", y/n softly sighed, "no, come in". 

There were moments when she just needed peace, little breaths in a day full of expectations.

Reading had been her escape for as long as she could remember and people around her knew that when she had a book in hand, she was just longing for a quick escape. 

Her father knew, her mother knew, along with her little brother and Colin…

Y/n’s mother gently sat close to her on the couch, her dress graciously moving with her. 

She was holding a piece of paper in her hands as she looked at y/n. 

"Dear.." She looked to the ground, hardly finding the words. 

"Is everything alright mama?" 

The woman quickly looked up into her daughter’s eyes. 

"I gotta ask you dear" her expression hard "is everything alright with mr Bridgerton?" 

Taken by surprise by that question, y/n didn’t fail to be sarcastic: "which one? You’ll have to be a bit more specific mama", another thing she must have taken from Colin, quick remarks.

"Y/n…"

The girl sighed loudly, "We are not so close anymore" she admitted as her mother smiled softly. 

"Oh dear, you've grown attached to him, haven’t you?".

But she needed no answer as y/n looked outside the window, the faint shadow of pain coloring her face. 

The woman put her hand on her daughter’s knee, reassuringly, "It isn’t something you can simply decide not to feel anymore", her eyes shooting back to y/n’s face as she continued: "the strings that bind you, they can’t be untied".

Her eyes suddenly passionate as she tighten the grip. 

"Oh dear girl, I know you expect and deserve the very best; but sometimes things don’t quite follow the narrative, sometimes we have to force a chapter or write it on our own".

A breath, as she handed y/n the paper she had been hiding behind her back. 

The girl’s eyes scanned the paper as she read first slowly, then in a breath: 

The one we love have the power to inflict us the greatest scar.

For what thing is more fragile…than the human heart?

The bond between man and bride is private, sacred.

But I must tell you, I have learned that a grave fraud is afoot; as if the Featheringtons did not have enough to be dealing with, Mrs Marina Thompson is with child and she has been from the very first day she arrived in our fair city.

Desperate times may call for desperate measures, but I will wager many will think her actions beyond the pale. 

Perhaps she thought it her only option or perhaps she knows no shame. 

But I ask you, can the ends ever justify such wretched means?

-From the Chronicles of Lady Whistledown  

The girl’s eyes fell off the paper, only a thought crossing her mind: "I have to go" she mumbled, "I have to go" she repeated more to herself than her mother. 

And in a second she was up, quickly running for the door and to the entrance, her brother questioning her alarming behavior to their mother. 

"I need a carriage, immediately, I am to be escorted to the Bridgerton’s household". 

It took a ten minute ride to get to the household, but as soon as she jumped down the ride, she was already knocking on the door, a newfound need to see him, to speak to him. 

Y/n had passed the last weeks changing plans, praying not to meet him or better, them, and now she was going mad trying to find that same man; life can be crazy and fate hilarious. 

It was mrs Wilson who opened the door, her voice stern "the family does not accept vis-" before her eyes fell on the girl: "mrs Dayton" she breathed. 

"I need to see him" y/n pleaded, which seemed to work since the woman opened the doors fully: "please come in". 

Lady Bridgerton was at the entrance, walking quickly from one part of the room to the other when she spotted the visitor, feet stopping instantly. 

"Dear" she muttered, her eyes kind, y/n had this strange feeling like the woman had been expecting her to come.

The girl made a small bow, impatience betraying her good manners: "where is him?" She asked. 

The woman took a step forward, her hands finding y/n’s as she held them tight.

The smallest hint of compassion in her voice: "upstairs, in his room". 

It took so little to get there, her heart guiding her in a desperate run, but now that she was climbing up the stairs, her eyes searching for Colin’s room: the first on the left of the corridor on the right… now she was suddenly feeling anxious and overwhelmed. 

She knocked once, then twice, "I want to be alone" she heard, a voice so raspy and low she thought she had imagined it. 

There was no way she was backing up now, another knock and the door opened fully: "I said-".

His eyes fixed on her, as his voice dropped lower again: "y/n?". 

Colin’s eyes were red, hinting he had been crying; that austere, charmer of London had been crying. 

It pained y/n. 

His clothes were wrinkled and his hair not the ever so perfect styled. 

It took her no time, as she flew into his arms, holding tightly. 

As soon as the boy felt y/n’s body pressed to his, he gave up, arm wrapping her, his head hiding in the crook of her neck. 

He closed the door and guided her to his bed as he never let go of her embrace. 

"i’m so sorry" she whispered as she let go, falling to sit on his bed. 

It wouldn’t have been proper for a lady to be alone with a man, let alone in his room, on his bed, but y/n couldn’t care less at the moment, nor that she ever did when she was with Colin. 

Colin was sat in front of her as he held her hand tightly, his eyes those of someone who was trying his best not to cry. 

"I was a fool".

"You were not a fool! you believed yourself in love, you shouldn’t apologize for that" y/n whispered back, her fingers stroking his. 

The man half smiled, his eyes, even if red, were the clearest green she had ever seen. 

"I missed you" his voice cracking as she hugged him again. 

Y/n didn’t know how she found herself with her back against the headboard of Colin’s bed, his head on her lap as he was resting close to her, her fingers in his hair. 

After crying for hours, he seemed to have fallen asleep in that position, his arms securing her legs, keeping her close. 

There was something terribly intimate of being in that position with her best friend and even more heartbreaking to know she was comforting him because another girl broke his heart. 

As the hours passed, the sun gave his place to the moon, darkness surrounding the room, y/n could do nothing but stroke his hair, rock him to sleep.

Her arms felt tired and her heart too; she could do nothing in the complete silence, but realize, exhausted, terrified, that she loved him.

It was clear now, why she felt like it was not the moment for her to marry, let alone to fall in love; why she refused a handful of more than acceptable proposals, how she got so angry at him for taking that fateful step.

She loved him in a way she could never love anyone else and it broke her heart. 

It was midnight when she left his room, quietly jumping down the bed hoping not to wake him up. 

As soon as she closed the door to her back, she wanted to do nothing but cry, endlessly, for hours. 

Violet was still awake, a cup of hot tea in her hand as she portrayed the face of worry. 

As soon as she spotted y/n make her way down the stairs, she softly called her name. 

When the girl turned around she could not hide the tears that were framing her eyes, the pain that was dancing in them. 

"Oh dear" Violet came closer to her and she hugged the girl, she held her like she knew. 

It felt like Violet perceived her, understood her thoughts, shared them. 

After what felt like forever, Lady Bridgerton whispered: "I wondered who would have realized it first" her arms leaving y/n’s frame as she held her shoulders tightly: "I’m sorry it had to be you", an encouraging smile "I’m sorry it had to be this way". 

If y/n’s mother was right, if what really tied her to Colin was a string, If that was what love felt like, y/n never wanted to feel it again. 

The last dance of the season was hosted by the new duchess of Hastings, at their house in the countryside. 

Daphne was beyond excited for the upcoming ball; everything had been organized in the most detailed of ways. 

The whole mansion was dressed in white and silver silk, candles framed each window and a soft, warm light enlightened the dance floor. 

The events of the night prior danced in her head as y/n was waiting to be greeted by Daphne and her new husband. 

By the time she succeeded to meet the two, her friend warmly smiled at her, a nod to her husband as she muttered to the unmarried to follow her. 

Daphne took the girl away from the majestic view, as they made their way through the crowd. 

A few feet away from the little stage were violinists and pianists were playing their songs, the two girls met a door. 

It was hidden from the view; Daphne pushed rather ungracefully as she held y/n’s hand; "this way" she mumbled, making the two walk down a long corridor. 

Once they reached the end, they started climbing up the noisy stairs. 

When they reached the top y/n was breathless. 

The terrace were the two arrived was facing the floor were couples were already dancing. 

From that point of view, she could spot every and each person walking by, probably going unnoticed since the only light was coming from Daphne’s candles far away. 

"What is wrong, Daphne?" Y/n finally asked, looking back at her friend. 

Daphne reached towards the handrail, close to her. 

"This season did not went how we have imagined, did it?" A smile on her lips as y/n chuckled: "not quite at all" y/n replied, her heart was tired, her eyes too. 

"It has been a rough time, hasn’t it?", y/n just nodded. 

"Oh y/n" Daphne suddenly reached for her friend’s hands: "mama told me". 

Y/n’s soul felt tired too as she stared down at the ton "I’m screwed" was what left her lips. 

"Why are you saying this y/n-"

"I am done Daphne, finished, this is it for me." Y/n lushed out, :"I spent all my life getting to know a man while I never realized I was falling for him", her eyes left Daphne’s face as she searched for him in the crowd of people. 

"I spent all season dancing with strangers in hope to find him in them, I asked questions and refused proposals all because I was too blind to understand the reason behind it", she felt like crying "I behaved like a spoilt child, taking a grudge upon him just because he fell for someone who wasn’t me".

Her eyes went back to her friend: "this is not what I wanted to have, this is not the story I was dreaming about". 

Daphne shoot forward, her hands wrapping around her figure as she held y/n tight.

"If there is a thing this season has thought me" Daphne took a breath "is that things we want don’t arrive just how we expect them".

Their eyes met, as Daphne kept on talking: "You should tell him". 

The duchess held y/n’s figure tighter, "it’s Colin we’re talking about, the same boy you shared your deepest secrets with" a warm smile, "tell him". 

But Daphne was wrong, because as y/n was making her way back to the party, her feet guiding her towards the refreshment table, she couldn’t help but think that it was not her Colin, not anymore. 

In the mist of time, existed a moment were the two had been close, had been inseparable. 

But the blur of that same time made y/n realize the one who was standing in front of her was not a kid anymore, he was not her best friend, he was not her most trusted adviser, he was a man. 

A very good looking one too. 

"y/n" he breathed, shifting uncomfortably in his place. 

"Mr Bridgerton" the girl muttered, Colin handed her a glass of lemonade as his eyes fell to the floor.

"I must confess, I’m embarrassed" the boy mumbled, "you’ve seen me cry too, now you really have all the material for a perfect blackmail", his tone was playful, but y/n felt like being clear. 

"I would never"

"I know, that’s why I felt safe enough" was Colin’s answer. 

They shared some gazes, finally looking at each other’s in the eyes when:

"Colin I-" 

"Y/n I should-" 

Soft chuckles, "you first", y/n smiled kindly, she would have told him that night, that was it. 

"After everything that has happened I realized something" Colin breathed, his tone rather disconsolate.

Y/n’s eyes were shining with a light he never saw, but nonetheless, he kept rambling: 

"I’m to begin my tour, tomorrow morning, you know how much I longed to travel".

'Yes’ the girl thought, 'how we were planning to do it together'.

But she had to keep strong, her heart breaking under the weight of a one sided affection. 

"What did you wanna say?" Colin asked. 

Y/n forced a smile "nothing important, enjoy your tour". 

She placed the untouched drink back to the table as she turned around. 

No, if Colin wasn’t going to return her feelings she would have buried them. 

If the man she loved was not brave enough to love her back, she would have closed the book and started a new one. 

All she had to do was to go get those damn scissors. 

(here we are, season one is done, see you in season two <3)

mia

masterlist

ep six <- -> ep eight

© 2023 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.

#colin x reader #colin bridgerton x y/n #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton #colin imagine #colin bridgerton icons #colin bridgerton fluff #imagine #fanfic #bridgerton #bridgerton season 2 #anthony bridgerton #anthony x kate #kathani sharma #kanthony #benedict bridgerton #the bridgertons #eloise bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #bridgerton season three #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton s2 #bridgerton cast #bridgerton spoilers #netflix #netflix series #netflix shows #images #tv series

[sabrinaacarpenters]

PERIOD DRAMA APPRECIATION WEEK 2022 ↳ day 5 - favorite dynamic: KATE SHARMA and ANTHONY BRIDGERTON in Bridgerton (2020-)

I want a life that suits us both. I know I am imperfect, but I will humble myself before you because I cannot imagine my life without you, and that is why I wish to marry you. You do know there'll never be a day where you do not vex me. Is that a promise, Kathani Sharma?

#bridgerton #bridgertonedit #kanthonyedit #perioddramaweek2022 #perioddramaedit #usertelevision #dailynetflix #cinematv #usermandie #usernik #userbecca #tusertha #userclayy #dailykathony #kanthony #userbbelcher #tvedit #kathony #myedits

[thekatebridgerton]

imagine: Kate’s maternal uncle and auntie coming into the picture and they love her… but ignore Mary and Edwina completely. They hold a grudge and think Mary maliciously kept their niece away from and forced her to give up her dowry for Edwina to come to England.

So, they come over, find out about the chaos and decide to stir shit up and bring Kate back with them. They first act unassuming and act all pleasant. Slowly… They try to make Mary look like the bad guy, Kate’s Aunt making a scene and crying her eyes out of something Mary ‘said’ and painting Mary as a wicked stepmother and Edwina a ungrateful half sister. Both of them try ensure that it’s not the case and that they love Kate but as Kate’s aunt ran out sobbing and telling the Bridgerton and Danbury that she never felt so insulted and will NEVER come back. Kate’s uncle acts desperate and gently tells Kate to come by as soon as she can as her aunt needs her. He needs her.

One thing should be clear, they both LOVE Kate. She gets put in a tough situation where she either chooses her maternal family who longs for her to come back with them OR stay with the family back here and who want her to stay.

I like to think that Kate’s mother was likely related to the Majaraj in India, maybe not a sister, but a distant cousin, because in India, Kate’s father had a moderately comfortable way of life, so it’s possible that they were very well connected at least until Kate’s father died. And her maternal family thought that once the mourning period was over Mary would take Edwina and go back to England with ‘her people’ but Kate would of course stay and marry back into the family, to one of the sons of the Majaraj or any of the high ranking officials in court who would keep her in the same comfortable lifestyle she was used to. But Kate decided to go to England with Mary and Edwina instead so her maternal family felt like somehow their little cousin’s only child was sacrificing all her oportunities in India for Edwina and Mary’s sake.

So of course, Kate’s family has to go ‘rescue her’ from those stick in the mud Brits who wouldn’t know real tea if it was serve to them in golden teacups. And show up right in the middle of the season, just as Kate is both trying to pretend she gets along with Anthony for Edwina’s sake, and also fend him off because apparently he’s insistent on marrying her sister.

Here’s where it gets funny, because if you’ve ever met an Indian Auntie and an Indian Uncle, you know they are persistent and they are very argumentative. And Aunties in particular tend to be… loud. So the Bridgertons, particularly Anthony, always end up overhearing that Kate used to have a seemingly perfect life when her father served the Majaraj and now her Aunt and Uncle think she’s been reduced to servitude.

I can imagine them being the perfect house guests but the minute everyone leaves the dinner table, Auntie Shivani starts trying to convince Kate to go back to India with them, using the typical arguments.

‘You would be so much more comfortable at home bebi’

‘Listen to your Aunt, you could be singing and dancing with the daughters of the Majaraj, instead look at this, all British people, long faces, no good music’

‘Come to India Kathani, as soon as were back home, Auntie will have your favorite Gobi Paratha made to celebrate, why do you want to be here? food in England doesn’t have spices, how can you truly be happy anywhere without spices?’

So Auntie and Uncle try their best to convince Kate that Edwina will be taken care of, because the Viscount likes her already and why not just come back to India and leave Mary to Lady Danbury. Etc Constantly making Mary out to be some downer who leaves everything to Kate and acting like Edwina needs to stop bothering her big sister for everything. Of course they like the Bridgertons because at this point Anthony is taking Edwina out of Kate’s hair, and that’s all Aunt and Uncle Sharma care about. Anthony is about to propose to Edwina, when he again overhears them trying to convince Kate to go home with them, and they bring up that the Majaraj handsome son still wants to marry her so really, this idea of being a governess in India is pointless when she could still marry Rahul and have a houseful of Indian babies. If she doesn’t like Rahul she could still marry Vijay, he’s also handsome and he’s an official.

Anthony has a shock because he was under the impression that Kate was unmarried because nobody had proposed to her, not because she willingly had already rejected her fair share of proposals in India. And the moment she goes back home, she’s going to be swarmed by those good and nice men her Aunt and Uncle keep preaching about. It’s the push Anthony finally needed to make him see that he’s got nothing if he doesn’t have Kate and if he does marry Edwina, she’ll be in a ship to India with her family faster than he can say divorce. So instead of proposing to Edwina, Anthony follows his heart and proposes to Kate. Much to the scandalizing outrage of Uncle and Auntie Shivani. And Kate’s absolute shock.

Can you imagine that anon. because that’s the tea

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #Kanthony #lets just say I used to have an aunt Shivani

[sea-owl]

I'm reading Isekai/Transmitgation comics again soooo imagine this:

Modern Kate Sharma transmitgated into Regency Kate Sharma's body just after she's reached debut age. The twist is..... Modern Kate thinks she'll be suffering alone..... But she's really not.

Not when text boxes only she can see keep telling her what she should and shouldn't be doing...... It's a never ending Alexa of information that's as helpful as it is fucking annoying.

*Ping* Watcher thinks Kathani should tell Anthony Bridgerton his mouth would be of better use on her own 😇.

Poor Kate can only reply in her head or risk being called mad 🤣😂

Kate's ready to fight those boxes. She did not ask for this! All she wanted was to graduate college, but noooo she had to be sent back to Regency England!

Now she's stuck in the past and that capitol R rake is not helping!

Then, one day, a miracle happens. At a ball she hears from the gardens, "I don't think we can gaslight, gatekeep or girlboss our way out of this one."

Kate knows that phrase. That phrase is definitely not from the regency era.

Rushing towards the garden Kate sees that God forsaken text box but the words are backwards. The text isn't for her.

Staring up at the text box is Penelope Featherington, Lady Featherington's daughter, and Sophie Beckett, Lord Gunningworth's ward.

Both of them are scrunching their noses at whatever the box is telling them.

"Oh thank God I can finally talk to someone about these!"

#abc wives about to cause chaos #bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #otome au

[orangepeelshortbreadcookies]

Oceans Away 

She lifts her head up to look at him, directly into his grey, lunar eyes. There is something so dear about him, so ancient and intimate to her, yet at the same time, he feels oceans away. Untouchable. The sensation makes her heart ache.

He is dying to shed her veil away to claim her lips with his own. It would not be proper, he halts, reminding himself that he is a gentleman. He must settle for admiring her through the sheer and in the half-light, letting his imagination fill in the details.

‘Who are you?’ She asks him, her voice barely above a whisper.

OR

A chance encounter between an incomplete Elf and a Fairy who doesn’t remember.

OR

When the prompts of the day are so perfect my brain vomited 5k of glitter.

Benophie Week 2023.

Day 3.

A fairycore!Bridgerton fanfic.

@sophiamariabeckett​ senpai please notice me.

@inksuvich​ Thank you for this amazing collage of Sophie Baek. Your amazing work has inspired this. This story could not exist without you!

There are five million nine hundred seventy eight thousand magical realms in the known universe. Oftentimes, the realms float peacefully about, separately in their respective dimensions, quite static, stewarded by their own celestials, enlivened by their own solars. Occasionally, beings of certain means and fortunes traverse from one realm to another, seeking out companies or knowledge. These events are quite rare.

Even rarer still are when the realms themselves collide. Every five hundred years, two neighbouring realms would drift ever so close, that the silken fabric of their respective realities would touch and meld into one another, if only briefly. The pitch-black veil of their barriers would lift, revealing truths and wonders. Cosmic sparks then fly like two lovers’ kiss, open-mouthed. The Secrets were privy to a few, but the spectacle alone was one to behold. And so across realms, every star reader, Sterndeuter, jyotishee and zhanxing jia or mnajimu awaits a Collision with bated breaths. When it happens, well, what could be more worthwhile a cause for celebration?

That was how the newly crowned Queen of the Gumiho Foxes finds herself in the court of the High Fae Queen Charlotte. A great ball is held on the Eve of Collision in honour of the union between Lord Bridgerton of The House of Fae and Kathani Sharma of The Merfolk of Indian Ocean. The Fox Queen and her delegation are participants in this event. 

From the edge of the ballroom, the young Queen admires the scene with satisfaction. Her first diplomatic mission has gone off without a hitch. Despite her self-perceived inexperience, she has handled the delicate game of politics with grace and dignity. The bond between realms were established, and now that the hard part is over, she watches gleefully as immortals of different shades and ages glide about across the ballroom, either mingling, dancing or drinking. Starlight swirls in the dome above them. Around the room, little pixies hold their own celebration, in the windows, behind the silk lanterns, in the vines and among the branches. Their little voices and the featherlight sound of their wings are only audible to The Fox Queen’s sensitive hearing and she giggles at their silly conversations. Occasionally, they would turn around and gasp in astonishment at the affairs of the bigger folk underneath, as if seeing them for the first time. In a sense, they are, for there is only so much space for memories in their little bodies.

In the middle of the dancefloor, the happy couple, beautiful and in love, bedecked in wedding jewels, gaze adoringly at one another. The groom’s elven glow emits a light blue hue, while the bride’s oceanic scales gleam in rich golden flickers. Sitar, shehnai, cello and piano honour their matrimony. On the highest seat, The High Fae Queen Charlotte holds court, seeming pleased with her subjects. Her ladies-in-waiting kneel in rows at her feet, dutifully braiding her endless curls. No one is paying attention to The Fox Queen, not even her own delegation. Now is the time for her to slip away.

As much as the festivities excite her, they are not what she came here for. No, she came for The Collision itself. When the two walls touch, when the heavens open one of their countless eyes and the sky thus becomes a mirror, there she would find her answers, this she believes with unshakeable conviction. ‘Few are lucky enough to gaze at the event and comprehend what it means. Most do not discover revelations,’ her professor had said, in a gentle and comforting tone. ‘Despair not, chance you find not what you seek, your Majesty.’ Yet the young Queen guarantees that the old scholar, with his boundless patience and wisdom, has worried for nothing. The Collision, this Collision in particular, is made for her. She knows this, deep in her heart, with divine certainty, as her excited steps carry her deeper into the forest, the earth warm and soft under her bare toes.

Someone is already there before her. In the middle of the lake, over on a little island, she can make out a masculine outline and scent with a mop of dark hair. He sits with his back to her, lounging lazily against pillows of moss. He seems to look up at the night sky, as the translucent shell of the other world approaches the one they are in ever so slowly. There is something about him that stops her in her tracks. Her entire body goes on high alert, as if a sudden course of lightning just runs through and charges every fibre of her being. And yet it is not out of fright that she reacts so.

‘Who goes there?’ He turns around. Their eyes meet.

He is the most beautiful being she has ever seen. He is Fae, perhaps an Elf by the shape of his ears. The ceremonial robe, that is customary of this realm, is haphazardly draped about him and deep blue in colour. Yet, he does not glow like the others of his kind. Perhaps that is what she finds strange about him. Defined, expressive features. The Fairy Fox wonders how he would look when he smiles. His pale grey eyes shine like the moon, and she finds in them a familiarity that makes her heart ache. Perhaps it was the veiled sadness in his eyes, a poetic melancholy that is characteristic to the allure of certain Fae folk, so she has been told.

For a brief moment, she considers giving in to her baser instincts. She can naturally shift into her fox form, sneaking away from his sight and go find a different location for her singular observation. None will be the wiser. It is not proper for two unattached beings to be alone together after all. She might have, however, had a few flutes during the fete, and the fermented fruit of the vines might inflate her boldness. ‘Why must I leave?’ she thinks stubbornly. She is a proud Queen of her own realm, and in her kingdom, where The Enchanted Foxes rule with freedom and wild independence, no one bothers with such frivolities. She wants to watch The Collision on that island over there, it is important to her, and whoever that Elf is can do well to respect that if he was a gentleman. And so, emboldened with the heat in her cheeks, her desire to see her plan through, the aristocratic pride that she recently has come to possess and her own curiosity regarding the mysterious Fae, she stands straight in her human form and faces him. 

‘It is I.’ She answers. Secretly she is grateful for her veil, a delicate work of spider silk, morning dew and chrysanthemum. It shrouds her, from her head to her ankle, in a misty sheer, thus preventing the other from discovering her hesitation. 

He leans against one hand, amused. A lazy grin creeps up his face, boyish and crooked, the corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth and she gasps, praying he doesn’t notice. He does have a beautiful smile. She knows he would.

‘And who might you be?’ He asks.

‘A lady.’ She says simply, gently reminding him of his courtesy and conceding very little about her identity.

He seems to understand her implication.

‘Good evening, my Lady.’ He tilts his head in her direction in greetings. ‘Happy Eve of Collision to you.’

She gives a small curtsey in response. 

‘Perhaps you are lost. The wedding is that way.’ He points at the direction whence she comes helpfully. She can still hear the music swelling.

‘I assure you I am not lost.’ She feels her defences rising. How dare this Fae, or whatever he is, assume she does not know her way. Foxes are never lost. ‘I seek not the wedding.’

‘Pray tell, what seek you, my Lady?’ 

‘I believe it is not any of your concerns.’ She crosses her arms petulantly.

He narrows his eyes at her in contemplation. Then his grin grows even wider.

‘Naturally it is a concern of mine. You, my Lady, are standing in my territory. I am the Lord of this lake here, you see.’

‘That’s a lie!.’ She exclaims. She has done a thorough investigation on this realm prior to her mission. ‘There is no mention of a Lord of a tiny, nameless lake.’

‘Tiny?’ He looks around the place in mocked offence. ‘It is not tiny. Dwarfish, perhaps.’

If she were to reveal her tails this moment, all nine of them would bristle up in protest. ‘It is a lie and we both know so!’

‘Do we now?’ One of his eyebrows quirks up. ‘Yet this lake is not what you declared, my Lady. It is not tiny, merely little. Nameless, it is not either. Why, the name of it is written right there.’

‘Where, sir?’ She looks around herself. ‘I don’t see any-’

‘Right there.’

Suddenly, he is right in front of her on the shoreline. He is very tall, she notices. One of his fingertips glows like ember as he hastily scrawls something in the air right above her forehead. For a second she can feel his breath shifting through her veil and the spot where his finger almost touches her cheek burns at the near-contact. Then just as sudden as he appears, he is gone. Back to his little island in playful arrogance.

As her wits settle back into her body, The Fox Fairy looks up. Hung in the air, written in glimmering, pretty Elvish writing, are the words: ‘My Lake’.

‘Very clever, sir.’ She rolls her eyes, even when he can’t see it.

‘I thank you.’ He nods.

‘It is not a complement.’

‘Nevertheless, I have decided to receive it as such.’

‘From whence I come, one would say the skin on your face is rather thick.’ She exclaims.

‘Another complement! I thank you again.’ He seems destined to rile her up. ‘You flatter me, my Lady.’

She stomps her foot. 

‘You, sir, are aggravating!’

‘Only in such pleasant company such as yourself, my Lady.’ He says, then turns his back to her.

In silence, the young Queen reflects on her own actions. Whatever has compelled her to behave so? Perfectly curt and unreasonable in front of this stranger. Like a thoughtless little cub snarling and bearing its teeth at perceived danger. There is no regal dignity to it. Her feet fiddle on the ground, embarrassed. She must admit that she is still in the process of reconciling the two versions of herself, the Queen and the Gumiho. The latter manages to manifest itself in new and at times, quite worrying ways to her still. A hundred years of a reign are still quite green for an immortal, after all, even when one is curiously prodigious at the job.

It is why witnessing The Collision is so important to her. Behaviours and knowledge in her possession that she cannot explain, she desperately wants to understand them. She knows she ought to view the event here, she was summoned to. And now perhaps she cannot anymore, all because she has proceeded, for no reason whatsoever, to antagonise this stranger. Like a fool.

Admittedly he has provoked her, but it is no warrant that she responds in such an unseemly manner.

‘You are not a babe anymore.’ She reprimands herself, before straightening up her back. She will resolve this conflict with grace and diplomacy.

‘Pardon me, sir.’ When he turns around again, she gives an apologetic bow. ‘I can see I have offended you. Please forgive my impertinence.’

She wills herself to not flinch under his gaze. It was her own wrongdoing. Even if he decides to mock her, as long as it does not cross the line, she will take it with dignity.

But he smiles at her. Earnestly.

‘Only if you forgive my insolence as well, my Lady. I am afraid I have overstepped your boundaries. I should have not teased you.’

Civility is an improvement.

‘Very well.’ She tilts her head. Her ear twitches the slightest bit in excitement. ‘You have my forgiveness.’

‘And you mine.’

It takes another minute before she gathers enough courage.

‘If it doesn’t bother you, sir, may I join you on your island? I imagine The Collision would look quite arresting from there.’

He agrees, and she thinks she might jump up and down with joy.

The Fae sensed her presence when she walked up to that shore.

It was the most peculiar feeling, as if his heart sped up and slowed down at the same time. As if he might perish if he did not see her. How strange, to feel so, so, so mortal. He has not felt that way in hundreds of years. 

Yet as he almost touched her cheek and saw her eyes widen in surprise through her veil, he realised how much he has missed that sensation.

He watches in fascination as she gathers up her skirts and practically runs across the lake toward him, weightless above the surface, the water kisses her lovely feet. Her sleeves are so long and wide, she looks like she is sprouting wings as she runs. Her attire cuts an exotic silhouette, more layered and less meticulously tailored than the fashion of his court. The emphasis instead is put on the very fine weave of the silk itself, if the luxurious shine of her skirt is any indication. Embroidered lotus bloom about her in great detail, the artisanship so stellar and liberal, it would make any lady of Queen Charlotte’s court green with envy. She is a vision, even with the silky veil flowing down from her garland about her like a waterfall. It ripples as she moves, enveloping her in a silvery shimmer.

She leaps to his island and sits down, limbs folded neatly together until her silhouette resembles a soft, shapeless cloud. As endearing as it looks, she has decided to remain an appropriate distance from him, and the Elf tries to rein in his disappointment. There is a wildness to her that he finds both alien and intimate. She might be a forest-bound spirit, like him, surely from a different realm. Her movements are graceful, weightless, ethereal, with a hidden ferocity to them, almost feline-like. It has delighted him, drawing that ferocity out of her, when he has watched her huff and stomp her feet against his teasings. He chuckles to himself as he, in his mind, links the image of hers to that of a very crossed, very regal kitten.

Above them, the curve of the neighbouring world inches ever closer, its surface favours dark ocean waves.

He notices her gaze on him, even as she tries to be innocuous.

‘Are you entertained, my Lady?’ A smirk plays at the corner of his lips. Her head turns immediately away. He imagines she blushes. He knows she is curious. Everybody is. It is so very obvious.

‘Pardon me, sir. ‘It is just…’ She says, looking down at her feet. ‘I have never met an Elf like you before. One who…’ She stammers.

‘Without his light?’ He finishes her question.

‘My apologies.’ She says.

‘There is no need.’ His voice is casual and benevolent. Truly, he does not mind. He looks at the palm of his hand, and then the back. He supposes sometimes, he should miss being lit from within. ‘I am aware it is quite strange. I lost the light centuries past. The dimness has become natural to me.’ His brows draw together. ‘That is the reason I am here.’

‘Are you set out to regain it?’ At some point, they have forgotten the honorifics. ‘The light?’

‘No.’ He cuts her off. ‘It’s just,’ He pauses, trying his best to resurrect the memory. ‘I lost someone. A mortal. She brought my light with her. And this,’ he gestures at his unglowing being. ‘Is what is left. The Mark of Death.’

‘Does it hurt?’ she asks.

‘Not at all.’ He lies. It is agony. ‘I cannot bring myself to regret that loss.’ This is the truth.

Fae folk do not die. The dimness and pain from the Mark of Death is something they must carry for the rest of their endless existence. And the Elf bears it with pride. True to his words, he does not rue the loss of his gift. For whatever can be a more potent proof, a stronger testament to his love affair?

He continues with his tale, his heart opens like a flood gate.

‘I followed her in her incarnations. She never lived long, even for mortals. Her lives were rarely happy.’ He looks up at the sky. ‘We have lived for the briefest moments of joy. She would reincarnate, I would find her. Repeat. And now,’ He sighs. ‘I cannot find her anymore.’

‘Do you seek her? In The Collision?’ The question flows out of her mouth before she can stop it. She does not want to know the answer. As unwise as it is, The Fox Queen cannot help but feel a pang of jealousy against this mortal soul. Who was she, to be worth being loved by him, over and over again, even at the cost of losing her over and over again, as well as forsaking his own Elfhood?

He turns to look at her. At some point, they have drawn closer to one another. The curve of her cheek is made even softer, almost ghostly by the silver veil. Her eyes, the shape of elegant brush strokes, the ends slightly lift upwards like a comet’s tail. He feels them bore into his very soul, and suddenly it is harder to speak about his past love in the present. In her presence. His hand itches with the need to lift the material up and reveal the creature underneath. To make certain she is not a mirage.

‘She is free now.’ He has made sure of it. He looks up at the sky again. ‘Perhaps she has forgotten. Perhaps her soul has dissipated and become one with the universe.’

‘Then what are you doing here?’ Rings the melodic, soft voice of his companion.

He shrugs.

‘I miss her. Deeply. I do not suppose I can ever stop. However, as urgent and selfish as my desire to be reunited with her might be, I care more to see that she is content. Happy. In whatever form she takes. The Firmament knows she deserves it more than any.’

Silence dawns.

Then the Elf leans on his hand and regards The Fox Fairy.

‘How about you? What do you wish to find in The Collision?’

‘There are empty spaces in my memories.’ She traces her fingers along the lines of her lips in thoughtful contemplation, a little action he finds equal parts hypnotic and familiar. ‘Spaces I yearn to fill. I can’t recall my childhood. One day I just woke up, armed with all these knowledge and powers and I don’t know how they came to be. Only a fool would assume they are natural gifts. One does not simply navigate a political court without extensive training. And then I was crowned Queen by my people. I accepted the role. I am uncertain whence I have such confidence, or perhaps entitlement.’ Both of her hands draw up to cup her cheeks. ‘It is quite frustrating. I am haunted by dreams I cannot recall. Of twin moons. I wake up nightly in my chambers with tears on my face and I don’t understand why.’

‘Perhaps it was something quite painful.’ He suggests. ‘Perhaps it is your consciousness’s way of protecting you.’

‘I thought so at first.’ She says. ‘But if it were something I have decided of my own accord, I doubt I would have grown so restless over it.’ Her voice is steadfast. ‘Something was taken from me, I know it deep in my bones. You must think me quite mad, but these shadows in me, they leave footprints.’

‘Footprints?’

‘Yes!’ She exclaims, her eyes bright. ‘Emotional footprints. I cannot recollect the events, but the sensations are true. I remember heartaches. Pain. Death. But there is beauty too. Desires. And love. So much of it.’ Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as the emotions resurface. ‘If my memories are meant to be lost forever to protect me, why take away all the good things too? Why entrust me with all this wisdom without the means to understand it? Why lead me here at all?’ She gestures at the approaching Collision. ‘If not for answers?’

He studies her for a long moment.

‘I believe there is some wisdom to what you said.’ Truly. Certainly she does not sound madder than himself.

‘A part of my desire is fueled by my nature as well.’ She concedes. ‘Foxes cannot stand not knowing.’

‘You are of Fox-kind?’ he ponders the new information. It makes perfect sense, he supposes. Her initial shyness and wariness. Her unadulterated excitement.

‘I seek to understand more of myself. I must admit the relation between my nature and my role still remains somewhat… obscure.’ She shrinks into herself. ‘They come into conflict at most inopportune time. My behaviour earlier on the shoreline…’ She silences abruptly, realising what she has just let slip.

The Elf notices it. Interesting, he thinks. 

‘I was wondering - what have I done to have incurred your animosity…’ He presses on, deciding to be ungenerous by not letting the matter rest. He is still Fae, after all. And now he is curious, too.

‘I… was so afraid to ask if I could accompany you on your island.’ She lets out an exasperated sigh. ‘This is most silly…’ He can hear her blushing, her voice is so expressive. ‘That I intended to scare you off. So you would go away.’

‘Scare me off?’ A humorous smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. ‘With what?’

She blushes even deeper. 

‘I have no idea.’

He breaks into a fit of laughter.

‘It is not funny!’ She exclaims, both of her hands cover her flushed cheeks, shielding her face even further from him. Nine big, silver, fluffy fox tails sprout from her back, holding her small frame in their embrace, until she bears a striking resemblance to that of a great cotton ball. The sight is so adorable, it makes him laugh even harder. 

As his laughter subsides, she feels him lift from his place and move to kneel in front of her. She imagines him reaching out his hand to touch her and she holds her breath. He decides against it, however, instead opting for calling out to her, in such a soft, gentle tone, it melts her bones into honey.

‘May I see you, please? My Lady?’

Her tails retreat, yielding under his voice. She lifts her head up to look at him, directly into his grey, lunar eyes. There is something so dear about him, so ancient and intimate to her, yet at the same time, he feels oceans away. Untouchable. The sensation makes her heart ache.

He is dying to shed her veil away to claim her lips with his own. It would not be proper, he halts, reminding himself that he is a gentleman and in the presence of a Queen. He must settle for admiring her through the sheer and in the half-light, letting his imagination fill in the details.

‘Who are you?’ She asks him, her voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles nervously, feeling humbled under her gaze.

‘I am merely a younger brother of the groom, My Lady.’

‘I do not believe that is all that you are.’ she says kindly. ‘There is nothing ‘merely’ about you.’

He bows, still looking at her. 

‘I thank you.’

The sky rumbles. The Collision is approaching. The Fox Queen and the lightless Elf break away from their eye contact, hurriedly settling back into sitting side by side, no longer looking at one another. She dries her palms on the mossy ground. He lays down, his hand rests easy on her sleeve.

She hears the music change. A familiar, more sombre melody of koto and free-reed flute, played by the Skylarks of her court. According to the tradition of her realm, they are playing The Reception of the Collision, aptly named. The Fox Queen brings out a gourd from her magic pouch. An intoxicating, floral scent permeates the air when she removes the small nub. She drinks the liquid inside, then harmonises with the distanced musicians, using the gourd itself as her instrument.

‘That is a lovely melody.’ He compliments her.

‘It is ceremonial.’ She explains. ‘The Universe brings its own music in The Collision after all. It is an echo from the callings of all those who walked before. Even the ashes have their own resonance. It is only fair to give something back. At least it is so to my people.’

‘That is very interesting.’ He says. ‘I do not believe to have heard any music during the occurrence. Nor knowing any of my kind who did, for that matter.’

‘How do you Fae folk see the event then?’ She asks.

He ponders over her question.

‘Lightning would strike from the contact. Over there,’ he points at the steadily unfolding skyline. ‘Imagine a light that does not cast any shadows. A Fae sees all the colours in existence in that light, be it a High Elf or a simple pixie. All the stars in the sky would gather about it, and one would experience the sight of a tree growing backwards, all the leaves and flowers would return to the embrace of the branches from divinity. We elves believe we are allowed a glimpse into the Garden of The Firmament.’

‘It sounds very beautiful.’ She says.

‘It is truly a fascinating sight. There is no music however. Purely a visual sensation.’ He turns and smiles gently at her. ‘I do wonder how you experience it.’

She pretends to contemplate the offer.

‘Well, you must not play the tune.’ She says, her tone cheeky. ‘It is quite hard to master, and Fae folk tend to be… unsubtle with aerophones.’ She smiles back at him. He rolls his eyes at her small jab.

‘But you can drink the wine.’ She offers him the gourd, her voice grows beguiling.

He takes the gourd from her, his touch setting little fires to her skin as though his fingertips are still glowing. He brings it to his lips, tasting distilled peaches, cherry blossoms and winds shifting through wild grasses. She watches him intently, attempting her best to minimise the significance of their actions: how in her realm, only betrotheds and spouses drink wine from the same container. ‘It must not mean anything here.’ She thinks to herself, tearing her eyes from him, failing to vanquish the irrational spark of hope in her chest.

The Collision commences. 

The skyline splits open to welcome the foreign dimension. Every star in the sky is stretched and distorted in the new celestial lens. They are renewed, rejuvenated in front of his eyes and he watches The Tree drawing its children home. She hears cosmic music. Transcendental beings of the past, present and future, all glowing in light-made bodies, all join in a magnificent orchestra. She sees into others and into herself, her lives, in centuries before, as the sky opens one of its many eyes and becomes a mirror. Soon enough, they realise they are both observing the same story:

It was a tale of a poor cub, an anomaly, born to a Fairy Fox Queen and a mortal man. Her nine magical tails, the source of her powers, were cruelly sheared. Thus was she exiled from her kingdom, accursed to die many mortal deaths, trading a hundred years of sufferings for each of her tails.

And so for eight hundred years, her spirit walked the earths under ephemeral identities, all of them ending in tragedies. Yet, during her journey, she was not alone. A beautiful, ageless man with chestnut hair and moonlit eyes was her shadow. Be she a maid or a princess, a blue blood or a bastard, a scholar or a general, a king or a pauper, he loved her. All of her incarnations, identities, material sexes, he loved them all. They were friends, confidants, spouses. The times they had together, of which he referred to as ‘brief moments of joy’ as they spanned but a fraction of the long eight hundred years, were lifetimes of bliss to her mortal minds.

His last sacrifice disrupted and completed her cultivation, and as a result, the dusty cloak of her mortal experience was stripped away from her. She passed the turbulent threshold into her realm, returning one century earlier to her people as the rightful heiress, seemingly unburdened with the thought of him. 

Yet the memories only laid dormant, never were to be erased. She is always meant to seek them out. She is always meant to find him.

They look at each other now, without fears or reservations. She remembers him, everything about him. He has haunted her dreams. He is so close to her, so close she can feel his breaths on her cheeks, smelling of sandalwood and the wine she has given him. Her featherlight veil suddenly becomes too dark and heavy.

‘May I?’ He whispers, his hand tracing the fabric.

Instinctively, she clutches the veil tighter to herself. One feeble attempt at maintaining the last shred of their current, fading reality, before embracing the change. His large hand covers hers and her fingers uncurl from their grip, pliant under his touch.

She consents to his request with the smallest of nods. 

He lifts up the veil over her face, slowly, and she takes him in, now with clear vision. His face. His eyes. His mischievous elven smile. The sound of his voice. She misses him so much she can cry.

She is as marvellous as he imagines she would be. As he remembers she was. He brings his hand to her cheek and the part of him that is still tense with anxiety breathes a sigh of relief as he comes into contact with soft, warm flesh. His love. Of past and present.

 Before bridging the final gap between them and once again tasting heaven on her lips, he searches her beautiful eyes. He imagines a star has landed there. Or perhaps he seeks not a star in their watery depths, but his own light, the beam that she has not so much stolen, but he has willingly parted with.

Bathed in the light of The Collision, the copulation of The Universe, two ethereal lovers, both marked by mortality, uncover the mask of time between them and recognise the soul they have spent centuries seeking. Their joy is insurmountable, and they call one another by their true names as their happiness is, at last, eternal.

‘Benedict’.

‘Sophie’.

.

.

.

.

Author’s Note: *reverse UNO card* surprise it’s also a Reunited fic.

#benophie week 2023 #benophieweek23 #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benedict x sophie #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #My writing #benophie week #also kate is a mermaid okay? #i don't make the rules #disney did it first

[newtonsheffield]

Widow (or spinter, don't know why I prefer it) Kathani Sharma getting pregnant of little Neddie and she is scared as fuck I can imagine it. BUt, how will Anthony react?

#regency hurts like heaven #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers #I’ll take a breath

[1016anon]

Title: Thinking About Crashing Author: 1016anon Fandom: Bridgerton Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton/Kathani Sharma

Come true

Their mating ceremony went like this:

He stood, waiting by the circle, the red mating cord wound in loose coils held in hand.  It had been her mother's, she said.  One of the very few things she had left, in addition to two bangles: one for her and the other for her mate.  The cord was soft and bore the marks of renewal bindings, but most importantly had been dusted with tumeric; it was a tradition, Lady Mary had said.  What the tradition signified, she would not say.

Anthony had not been allowed to see Kathani the day before their mating; he had no idea what to expect.  When she appeared, it surpassed his wildest imagination: Kathani was wearing the most beautiful, bright red dress (he guessed from India), covered in ornate patterns of gold thread.  What was truly astounding, however, were the delicate scents she was wearing, some of which Anthony had never smelled before.

As she approached, he was hit with the light, airy scents of spring flowers: ephemeral, fleeting traces of crocus, pear blossoms, shy bursts of sprouted barley; followed by more substantial notes of the middle bodied scents: azalea, peony, cold river water on a summer day.  The full, round scents of jasmine, orange blossoms, sun-warmed fields of olive trees, reached him like a long wave breaking on the shore, each one perfectly layered against the other, some scents disappearing, others lingering, new scents rising as they blended with his own profile so that each pull of air he took was a new and unique fragrance.

When she finally reached him, he was hit with an incredible mixture of spices; omegas and betas in England tended to go with lighter scents, a particular blend of pink tea roses, white climbing roses, and plumeria being the most popular at the moment.  At the very base of Kathani's scent, however, was a mixture he never would have thought could go together: lily, amber, balsam (those spices, he realized), agarwood.  Somehow the stinging sweetness of the lily had been separated from the core to harmonize with everything.

To say Anthony was stunned by the time she stood before him was an understatement.  He dearly hoped that whatever concoction of perfumes it was which created the fragrance today could be recreated in the future; he'd never smelled a person more enchanting.  Anthony must have relayed the feeling through their bond because she had tilted an eyebrow at him, amused.

When he took her hands to prepare for the bond-tying, he saw her palms were covered in henna; his own palms felt naked against hers.  There was some tumeric from holding the cord; that was all.  In fact, his entire ensemble felt plain to the point of severity compared to her, and the only scent he'd come with was himself.  The orange-yellow was getting all over his stark black wedding jacket, the cuffs of his sleeves were already stained orange.  Yet he was grateful for it-- when the braiding of the cord was completed, it would leave intricate lines of golden yellow on his sleeve.

Kathani was deft and efficient in her ties; as the omega who'd claimed him as alpha, she placed her pattern of knots first, from elbow to wrist.  English tradition dictated that Anthony only place his tie in a thick band about her wrist; he was careful to ensure her bangles did not get caught in his part of the weaving.

He was aware that there must have been some words spoken, but he heard none of them-- legend had it that the bond-tie was not only symbolic; it really did strengthen a nascent bond or created the foundations for one.  With each knot she'd placed on him, each twist and curl of rope, he'd felt them drawn closer together.  And though his part of the band was shorter on her arm, it used the same length of cord, weaving layers one on top of the other.

It felt like there was something inevitable about their joining, the way everything opened so easily and flowed so freely between them.  For a moment, they were suspended, neither breathing.

Then it all came crashing down when she widened her eyes and slammed the connection shut as far as it would go; it was a miracle that Anthony managed not to make a sound.  Some inner creature in him was clawing at the gate she'd closed, growling at the forest of thorns and trying to find the best way to cross the moat of fire which surrounded her fortress of marble.  The inner creature was howling with rage, frustration, but more than that, grief.  A profound heartsickness as the forest of thorns only seemed to grow thicker and the moat became wider.

He understood, in theory, why she did it.  It was frightening to have one's thoughts peeled open and left bare for a virtual stranger.  They had known each other for a mere six weeks, three of which were spent trying to sever the bond, and the other three spent trying to keep the bond locked against each other as tightly as possible.

But this was their mating ceremony.  Biology might have prevented them from leaving each other, but there was undeniable chemistry and compatibility between them.  Conversation came easily.  Surely they could give each other a chance to at least be friends.  They couldn't avoid each other forever; they couldn't struggle against this connection for the rest of their lives.  It was exhausting, and Anthony was already tired.

He had felt her excitement, her anticipation for their mating ceremony.  She had been looking forward to this; with trepidation and worry, but also with hope and wonder.  Anthony admitted he had not been guiltless in this either; when she reached out, he was licking his wounds and slammed the door on her.  When he reached out, she was cold and unreceptive.  The only time they were unguarded was during and after sex; once the afterglow disappeared, he or she would inevitably say something cutting and the cycle would repeat itself.

They didn't have to be what everyone claimed they were; they could at the very least be friends.  If this bond had not forced a biological connection between them, Anthony knew he would have flirted with her, perhaps even sought to court her.  Didn't that count for anything?  They were going to start a life together and it was clear that life would be better for them both if they allowed the bond to fully form.  There were ways, later, that they could learn to restrict each other.  At least this way, neither of them would be struggling with noseblindness, near total loss of appetite, and insomnia.

If she had been dreading this so much-- if she did not want to go through with it, why was she going through with it?  Why was she punishing him for a bond that they neither chose?  She said herself that they could not have predicted this.  Did she think it was a matter of sheer willpower and that he hadn't been holding up his end of the bargain?

It hit him with devastating clarity that yes-- she blamed him.  She blamed them both: herself for being unable to stay away from him at the races, for seething with anger and jealousy when she heard of all the does he had been courting after she'd released their bond.  She'd hated him for going about life as though nothing had happened when she had been nursing a broken heart; it was proof that his feelings were manufactured by this thing he never wanted.  Even now, he was not arguing to complete the bond for the sake of love-- he was arguing for the sake of convenience.

She had never wanted to be bonded to an alpha who considered her an inconvenience, something to be remedied and put aside so that he could go on with life as though nothing had changed.  The bond was supposed to change everything.  Every aspect of every moment of every day, Lady Mary and Appa had shared with joy and love.  The only connection he could stand was a physical, carnal one.

He had never considered her a nuisance!  He had never thought her an inconvenience!  He'd kept his distance, remained aloof because that was what she had wanted, and he followed her lead.  She had already bond released him once and made clear that she had entered into the second accidentally; she told him every opportunity she could that she had remained despite her better judgment and perhaps even despite her own desires.  She had instructed him to court others; she had followed him and kissed him at the races; she had said, over and over and over again, that she'd wished she was free of him.  How else could he take her meaning except at face value?

Anthony sought a physical, carnal connection between it was the only thing she was willing to give.  He didn't break their engagement when he discovered she had no nesting dowry because of the reputational damage it would do to her sister-- if anyone was marrying anyone for convenience and utility, it was her.  How many times had she told him that she was only mating him for the sake of Edwina, and if it had been her choice, she would have gone back to India?

That was rich coming from him, given that his mother was so obsessed with matings and how his sisters' chances at a good match would be reduced if he married instead.  If the bond hadn't forced them together, she would never have wanted to be with him because he wasn't capable of loving anyone for the sake of himself, he could only love someone for the sake of his family.  Kathani did not want to be loved because of an involuntary biological reaction.  She did not want to be loved because their bodies made it inevitable.  And he did not love her that way, so here they both were, doing the expedient and expected thing, giving into the ton's whispers and the pressures of Lady Whistledown.

All of this while they stood, handfasted, with frozen expressions on their faces; as the magistrate droned on about the sacred traditions of mating.  Anthony and Kathani should have litigated this before the mating ceremony, but here they were in the Queen's own gardens, being mated before half the ton, thoughts and feelings exchanged at the speed of light.  The bond had opened unbeknownst to them both; the great irony was: it was only through the bond that they were allowed to understand each other so perfectly.

Then, right when he was supposed to make his vows as an alpha to his omega as a bonded, mated pair, her mother's bangle fell off.

Kathani rushed to pick it up without thinking-- in so doing, she jerked on the handfasting cord and like some terrible omen, broke it.  There was no loud rip; no one had noticed anything fray or come undone.  But it was undeniable that the cord was now severed; several in the audience gasped at the sight.  The magistrate, who was not a stranger to such things (he was old and had officiated many matings-- this was nowhere near the worst incident he had witnessed, which involved the beta bride and beta best man, who had never met each other, going into spontaneous heat and rut and consummating their bond right there).

Before the cooler head of the magistrate could prevail and reassure everyone that a broken cord did not mean a broken bond-- in fact, he had witnessed traditions in other countries where the culmination of the mating was to break the rope as a symbol of their independent vows to their mates-- Anthony and Kathani looked at the cord, looked at each other.

In hindsight, no one was truly surprised when they both ran away.

--

The 'bungled nuptials,' as Colin so wonderfully called it, of 'the Right Honorable the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Miss Kathani Sharma' was the only thing the ton could speak of in the following days.  His mother tried to put some sort of reputation mitigation plan in place to demonstrate... something... but Anthony refused to play any part of it.  It required he and Kathani appear together publicly, the entire family trailing after them like some sort of army of chaperones or traveling circus; with the breaking of the cord and their mutual flight from the altar, the very thought of seeing her made him sick.

He had other pressing matters he had to attend to; his rut was nearly upon him.  Anthony decided the only option was for him to go to Kent and lock himself in a heat chamber/rut room.  It was one of the oldest buildings on the estate-- apparently the need to contain raging alphas, rabid betas, and violent omegas during their cycles was something which well predated the modern era.  He'd decided that it was too much to be in London, where there was significant risk that he would try to find Kathani or she would be drawn to him.  The best solution was to remove himself from Town altogether.

Benedict and Simon were both doubtful of the wisdom of this idea, but they could not come up with anything better.  When they asked him about the state of the bond, he told the truth:  He didn't know.

The bond wasn't silent, but it wasn't as strong as it had been.  It wasn't completely severed, nor was it whole.  It felt muffled, buried underground.  He didn't know if he was totally unaffected, or if the energy from his pre-rut hormones were allowing him to function normally (Benedict and Simon were of the opinion the latter was, indeed, the case.  Anthony pre-rut was usually far more energetic and active).  He wasn't willing to poke or prod the bond because in truth, this blunted feeling of living underwater was preferable to being too present, too vigilant, too aware of reality.

She had rejected him.  Or rather, they had rejected each other in a poisonous outpouring right before they were supposed to be forever mated.  Kathani had gotten what she wanted, and Anthony didn't know what he wanted at all, so it was a moot point.

He supposed that everything turned out for the best.

#bridgerton #kathony #fanfiction #abo au

[hiatuswhore]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝐼𝐼 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃 𝒯𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒𝓇

masterlist!

bridgerton masterlist!

A/n: It might be a few days before I post this. My 21st birthday is at midnight (I’m in NYC for time reference) so idk when I’ll be free again. Plus finals week is coming but I’m gonna try to have it posted before next weekend! Lastly FEEDBACK PLEASE :)

The clapping that follows provides the perfect smokescreen to make your exit. As you once again reach the corridor you continue to the kitchen to find the staff scrambling. You grab an apple before returning out into the hall. Kate stands a few feet back as William stands against the wall parallel to the kitchen. You frown at your sister's presence before it all clicks.

“No. Not now,” You say, rushing down the hall a sigh leaves you as William and Kate follow. Kate hangs back keeping the two of you in view but not close enough to be intrusive.

“Wait, wait, wait. (Y/n) talk to me?” William says, grabbing your gently he pulls you off to the side. He frowns as you avoid looking at him, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“No I—William I cannot do this,” You try to blink away the burning sensation in your eyes. Kate keeps her gaze off the two of you as she silently listens in.

“Why don’t we get some air okay, yeah?” William says, nodding your head you allow him to escort you outside to the front of Danbury House. Kate lingers in the doorway as the two of you take a seat on the steps. The silence that follows eases the thick fog that clouds your nerves. You feel when William’s gaze moves from the distance onto your blank exterior.

#bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton imagine #edmund bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #violet bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #daphne bridgerton imagine #daphne bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kathani sharma #anthony x edwina #edwina sharma #mary sheffield #mary sharma

[arosesstorm]

colin bridgerton serie 

ep eight - s2

words count: 1.1k            fem reader! x Colin Bridgerton

warning: friends to lovers trope

summary: y/n Dayton and Colin Bridgerton were friends and they swore they'd always be but it takes a great deal of bravery to love someone, more to keep loving them when it hurts the most.

English is not my first language loves, trying my best, enjoy :)

Dear readers, did you miss me? 

-From the Chronicles of Lady Whistledown 

"Brother!" Hyacinth threw herself into the arms of her older brother, closely followed by Gregory. 

"Look! I’ve grown an inch" she smiled proudly, Gregory mocking her. 

"Oh Colin" Lady Bridgerton made her way to his son "we didn’t expect you so early". 

"What can I say" breathed the man, softly hugging his mother "I missed you all too much". 

"Here you are brother!" Benedict wrapped his younger too, a hint of joke in his voice: "you must shave". 

Eloise was already standing in front of her brother, eyes loving even if she would have never admitted. 

"You’ve lost quite the show" the girl said, quickly shushed by her mother. 

"What shall you mean?" 

"Nothing darling, nothing". 

Colin had spent the last few months traveling from Greece to Italy, his travels taking him to places he never dreamed of seeing as his mind was traveling everywhere but with him. 

"May I ask where is the intrepid viscount?"

Anthony entered the room as if on clue, "already back from courting" their mother underlined as the eldest patted on the shoulder the younger "Colin! Glad to see you’re back, even better, I want everyone ready for today, we’re going to the races".

Colin’s heart skipped a bit, y/n’s brother loved the races, they were certainly going to be there. 

With this thought in mind he jumped to his room getting refreshed and ready. 

Strangely, he was eager to see her. 

Getting ready and leaving with the carriage left Colin feeling nervous, anxious, he hadn’t seen her in months, let alone the almost if not complete absence of letters the two had shared. 

He had been punctual, writing to her often, at least once every two weeks, but she didn’t seem to receive his letters at all, or she didn’t wanna write back.

But that possibility hurt Colin too much so he kept on justifying his letters got lost somewhere, all 45. 

He was selfish enough to hope the things he left where in the same place when he got back. 

Anyway, it was a matter of minutes before he found out. 

"What’s the matter brother?" Benedict asked the third Bridgerton. 

The carriage transporting the three Bridgerton boys jumped slightly to the right. 

"Oh, nothing" Colin tried to dismiss adjusting his waistcoat. 

"Mrs y/n didn’t answer to any of my letters" he felt like adding, to witch Anthony chuckled. 

Benedict softly hit his older brother's arm, "we should tell him" Benedict scold, but a knock on the door cut them off. 

"Guess he’ll have to see for himself" Anthony muttered, jumping down the carriage. 

All this suspense was getting Colin the more and more anxious, what did in fact happen while he was gone? 

What was there to discover? 

He hated surprises, god he so hated surprises. 

Reluctantly making his way out, he climbed down the carriage, shy at first but the more bold as he reached the stands. 

The field was full of people, there was who was talking energetically with their interlocutors, kids were running around, mocking or joking with each other’s. 

Some gentleman were talking to some ladies; "Lord Bridgerton!" Someone called for his attentions as Colin turned around: "Oh mr Fife!" The man kindly greeted as he approached. 

"I heard you were back from your famous travels, anything interesting outside this city?" Fife laughed as Colin smiled amused: "you’d be surprised". 

"I bet, I wanted to ask you though-" but Colin never heard the rest of the sentence. 

His eyes had been drawn far away, behind the man he was talking to. 

A lady, the pretties he had ever seen, was walking with a man; the two were laughing as she covered her smile. 

There was something absolutely irrational about how Colin longed to remove that hand and let her smile warm him, radiate him. 

She was wearing a dress who was the whitest he ever saw and it hung so comfortably around her figure he felt like blushing. 

As soon as he caught a glimpse of her face, he was utterly stunned. 

Y/n had always been pretty, one of the prettiest if you asked Colin, but he did in fact missed how stunning she got. 

She had grown an inch or two, he was sure, and her skin was so perfectly lightened by the sun it could as well have been a vision. 

If she had always been this beautiful, Colin must have missed it. 

There was something so incredibly exhilarating about his face that got Lord Fife startled as well. 

"Lord Bridgerton?" 

Colin quickly diverted his gaze back to the man, "I’m sorry, I was just wondering, who is that?". 

His head hinted toward y/n and the man to her left: "oh, the Duke of Hevelin" his eyes back to Colin’s face as he added "he has been courting mrs Dayton since the start of the Season".

And then Colin felt it; it started in his hands and travelled down his spine to the end of his toes, he had been shaken by a lightening of pure jealousy.

Suddenly he felt like it should have been him who made her smile that way; it should have been his arm the one she was holding and his the quick remarks she was certainly making. 

The duo had got close enough for her to recognize him, as her smile fell quickly. 

"Mrs y/n" lord Fife lowered his hat, Colin following his gesture as he was at loss of words. 

He got a moment to gaze into her eyes as he opened his mouth to speak: "We must take our seats" y/n cut him off, looking to the man she was holding onto. 

"As always, you’re right" the man replied followed by y/n’s giggles as the two made their way to the stands.

Colin could do nothing but feel the bitter under his tongue. 

She was really ignoring him, like they hadn’t known each others for more than five years now, like they weren’t… whatever they were. 

Like he didn’t know her deepest secrets, like she didn’t see him cry. 

Colin had been away for some months and now that he was back he felt like everything had changed, like she had changed. 

ep seven <- -> ep nine

masterlist

mia

© 2023 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.

#colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #bridgerton #netflix #fanfic #imagine #the bridgertons #eloise bridgerton #anthony x kate #bridgerton season 2 #kate sharma #kathani sharma #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin imagine #colin bridgerton x y/n #colin bridgerton x reader #colin x reader #colin #bridgerton season two #bridgerton netflix #netflix bridgerton #bridgerton season one #bridgerton season 3 release date #bridgerton season 3 #lady whistledown #luke newton #netflix series #imagine colin bridgerton

[bluerosejuliet]

Bridgerton Superhero AU

I thought of this while working on some asks and had to post it. Imagine the modern day Bridgertons are a family of popular superheroes (haven't come up with their powers quite yet but am open to ideas). They are very popular in the media and at least one of them is sure to make the news daily. The people adore them and they are a myriad of admirers. However, their civilian identities are more lowkey and not quite as popular.

When he's not saving damsels in distress and seducing the many women of London, Anthony Bridgerton works as an attorney who fights for justice. Because of this, he often works closely with detective Kathani Sharma, a woman who exudes confidence and doesn't take anyones bullshit. It doesn't help that she absolutely gorgeous (lord knows how often Anthony dreamed about those long legs of hers wrapped around him) and one of the few people who can challenge Anthony. And yet Anthony still hasn't plucked up the courage to ask the woman on a date.

Benedict Bridgerton works as an art therapist, mainly working with children coming from tough home situations. He also volunteers to the local retirement home to teach painting classes every other weekend. He does paint in his free time but doesn't have the confidence to share his work with other people. In between saving people every week, Benedict also faces another problem: he's in love with two women. One, a beautiful masked woman that he kissed at a New Years Eve party. All he remembers about her is the lovely silver dress she wore and how wonderful it felt to have her pressed against him. The other is Sophie Beckett, a beautiful social worker that he's collaborated with a few times. She has to be the sweetest woman he's ever met and she genuinely cares for all her charges. If only he could forget his mystery woman and just ask out Sophie his life would be so much easier.

Colin works at a large newspaper, reviewing various restaurants but longs to travel to other countries. However, he does love bringing focus to local restaurants that may not be as fancy as others but have amazing food and also amazing background stories. Is it any surprise then that he has a crush on Penelope Featherington, the owner of his favorite bakery and one his best friends? Not only does Penelope make the best muffins and is one of the nicest people he knows, she's also witty and very pretty. If only he could get out of the friendzone with her.

Daphne works as a wedding planner and is known for creating the most beautiful weddings no matter the budget. She's always prepared no matter what the situation and he assistants are left in awe of her cool head. The only time she seems to lose a bit of her cool is around Simon Basset, her brother Anthony's best friend and the most handsome man Daphne's ever seen. Not only is the man a firefighter (as if he wasn't hot enough!) he also works at the gym Daphne goes to and teaches self defense classes.

Eloise is currently working as an associate attorney Lady Danbury's law firm. Whereas Anthony specializes in criminal law, Eloise aims to be a civil rights attorney. As a bonus, her best friends bakery is right down the street but it is also next to a flower shop run by the quiet but handsome Phillip Crane. He's also a frequent customer of Penelope's and the two have gotten into quite a few debates. Eloise is not one to swoon and will kill anyone who says otherwise, but something about the quiet but intelligent flower shop owner draws her in.

Francesca is a music teacher at the local elementary school and also teaches piano lessons on the side. Like many secret superheroes, Francesca has a bit of a tragic backstory. She lost her best friend John, the only person outside her family to know her secret, to a horrible accident. John had asthma and during a hostage situation had an asthma attack and died because he didn't have his inhaler. Francesca blamed herself because John had snuck out that night to help her with something. What's worse is John was her first love and admitted his feelings for her with his dying breath. Since then, she's put up a wall around her heart and it took awhile for her to even think about joining the family business once more. Things are going smoothly, until Michael Stirling waltzes back into town to open his own bar after being discharged from the army. Michael used to be one of her good friends as well but after John's death, they grew apart. It also doesn't help that he's no longer the charming boy boy she knew in high school but a dangerously handsome man who seems to see right through her.

Gregory works on designing video games and is viewed by many people as a bit of a nerd given how he loves comic books and video games and is very smart. If he would just wear better clothes, tame his hair, and ditch the glasses, he'd be pretty handsome. He's not the best with talking to girls but finds the local librarian Lucy Abernathy very easy to talk to. Lucy's very organized and seems extremely prim and proper but can debate marvel vs. DC like no other and is an expert when it comes to Lord of the Rings. Even better, the woman makes her own cosplay outfits and Gregory had to stop himself from double liking her instagram photo of her as Galadriel. But how can an ordinary guy like Gregory hope to win over Lucy?

Hyacinth is currently working as a barista in a local cafe as she finishes up university. However, she is still unsure about what she wants to do after college. All her other siblings seemed to have figured out what they wanted from life but Hyacinth is still struggling. At least she gets to chat with Gareth St. Clair each day. He works in part time as a bartender while completing his business degree. He plans on opening his own auto shop one day and has a job lined up after he graduates to work as a mechanic for a bit to gain some experience. With his various piercings, tattoos, and the fact that he owns a motorcycle, he looks exactly like the kind of guy Anthony always warned her to stay away from. Yet, Hyacinth can't help but get a little weak in the knees each time he smiles at her.

So what is the conflict you may ask?

Is it that the Bridgerton spouses are secretly supervillains?

(No, they are normal civilians thank you very much).

Are the spouses seeing someone else?

(Nope, all of them are single).

The problem is, that the spouses seem highly unimpressed whenever the Bridgertons rescue them.

Anthony doesn't understand how the Kate who sometimes brings him his favorite coffee and teases him, instead acts like he's more of an annoyance whenever his hero persona interacts with her.

Or how Lucy doesn't seem impressed by Gregory saving her and instead points out all the disorder he caused but is so patient and warm to him even when he accidentally knocks over a shelf of books as a civilian.

In short, the Bridgertons are trying to win over their spouses as their hero selves (as this seems to be the version everyone prefers) while their spouses are in love with the Bridgertons civilian identities.

Meanwhile, Violet is sipping her tea, wondering when her children will realize that their spouses love their true selves, just as she loved the sweet Edmund Bridgerton who stuttered out an apology after accidentally causing her to spill her coffee all over her dress rather than the handsome and suave hero who saved her from some thugs.

If you would like to see more of this AU or have any ideas for superpowers, please let me know!

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton Superhero AU #the bridgertons share one brain cell #obvious Bridgertons

[stars-of-kyber]

@mrs-fairchild as a joke once asked for "I Won't say I'm in love" for my Bridgerton Music Prompts as a joke and I might have taken it seriously so, Bru, that's for you.

__________________________________________________

Kathani Sharma was not in love with Anthony Bridgerton, no matter what her stupid little sister seemed to think. Honestly, she barely liked the man on her best days. 

Sure, he was pretty nice to look at, with his carefully styled chestnut hair, and his warm brown eyes that seemed to stare right into her soul. Sometimes he’d be wearing a nice button-up that fit quite snuggly around his broad chest, the first couple of buttons opened, and he’d roll his sleeves up his elbows and it stirred something funny on Kate’s insides. And maybe she’d imagine those arms wrapped around her or pressing her against a wall once or twice or every other day. Never mind the fact that sometimes he’d look at her across the room, his eyes burning and she’d forget how to breathe for a moment. Or the way his voice sounded gruff right next to her ear when he’d make a silly quip, standing way too close, like they both always seemed to be around each other, sending shivers from the top of her head to the tip of her toe.  

And, of course, she couldn’t deny he wasn’t the jerk she imagined him to be when they first met. He was pretentious and stubborn, and so hot-headed, but he was also kind and generous, stopping whatever he was doing if someone he cared about needed him. He was ridiculously protective of his siblings, a bit overbearingly so sometimes, even if they annoyed him to no end. And he could be absolutely intimidating to protect the people close to him.

Once when they were out with their siblings, Kate watched as that cow Cressida Cowper was being a bitch to Penelope and before she could jump in the defence of the sweet redhead Anthony had been there. Anthony Bridgerton, who was very well aware of his sister’s best friend’s crush on his younger brother. Anthony Bridgerton, who referred to Pen as the honorary Bridgerton. Anthony Bridgerton, who right now looked intimidating and commanding, so different from what he usually did around Kate. 

“Pen! So glad you could make it today.” Cressida’s eyes turned predatory, watching as he gave Penelope a one-armed hug. Kate pretended not to notice how the way that woman was watching Anthony, her eyes roaming a bit appreciatively on the first few open buttons of his dress shirt, made her teeth clench and her hands ball into fists. She was obviously angry at how that tart was talking to Penelope and that was it. She didn’t care that the hag had been ogling Anthony at all. Obviously not. 

“Hello, Anthony.” Cressida bet her eyelashes, her voice shifting from the snide snare she was aiming at Pen just a moment before to a soft, melodic, velvety murmur, the sweetest smile adorning her painted lips. 

“Miss Cowper.” Anthony’s tone could cut glass, as cold as the winter in the Highlands, before he turned completely from the woman, shifting his body entirely towards Pen. “You don’t have a drink?” 

“I’ve been waiting for El.” Penelope was staring down at her shoes, the sudden attention on her making her cheeks slowly turn to the same colour as her hair. 

“They texted a few minutes ago, they’re on the tube.” His smile was soft, his hand carding through his hair, making it deliciously messy, not that Kate ever imagined what running her fingers through Anthony’s hair would feel like. “I’ll buy you something while we wait. What do you think? And you can tell me about that new internship you got. El hasn't stopped talking about it.” 

“I…” Penelope watched Anthony for a moment before her lips slowly started tugging upwards in a coy smile. “I’d like that.” 

Cressida’s face was so priceless as Anthony offered his arm to Pen, walking her to the bar, that Kate was tempted to pull out her phone and snap a photo. As they passed, Pen’s hand resting on Anthony’s arm as she mumbled about her new position in a newspaper, he caught her watching them, her mouth slightly agape. He always seemed to catch her watching him, always seemed to know exactly where she was in any room they both found themselves in. His lips curled into a smirk as their eyes met, and her heart absolutely did not stutter on her chest as he winked while he passed her. Not at all. It continued beating exactly the same rhythm as always, thank you very much.  

And now, they were friends… sort of. Not exactly, but quite. They would never outwardly call themselves that. But didn’t hate each other, not anymore, and they hung out, but never alone, always with one or more of their siblings around. And they’d talk and tease and bicker, always too close to be proper, always ending up in a ridiculous argument that left her hot and fuming into her drink. And that evening hadn’t been any different.

“That turned out well,” Edwina said, eyeing her sister amusedly, watching Kate fix herself another drink in Colin Bridgerton’s kitchen. 

“What?” Kate snapped irritably, turning around to stare at Edwina’s smug smile. 

“You know I can see right through you, don’t you?” She hummed, snatching a bottle of white wine to refill her empty red cup. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Eddie.” Kate lifted her nose up in the most dignified manner she was able to, turning back to her gin and tonic. 

“So you and Anthony were not breathing into each other's space, as usual?” 

“He vexes me.” Kate’s answer was prim, making Ewdina burst with laughter. 

“Vex? God Kate from what regency novel did you get that one from?” Edwina was dabbing her eyes, which were turning wet with how hard she was cackling. 

“Well, it’s true.” Kate just shrugs. “He’s so annoying, it’s like he’s trying his damn hardest to irritate me!”  

“You were playing beer pong. Together, as in a pair.” Edwina pointed out. It had been quite a scene, the stupid beer-pong competition Colin had cooked up. He had declared they should play in pairs, linking his arms with Daphne the moment the idea was out. Benedict had bolted to Eloise’s side, and Simon had sighed dejectedly, moving next to Edwina, muttering ‘I’m not pairing up with any of those maniacs. I’d rather play with a sensible person, thank you very much’ as his fiancée blew him a kiss. That had left Anthony and Kate, because Penelope announced she’d be acting as a referee, though Edwina was not exactly sure what kind of referring would she be attempting to do, since apparently, cheating was a normal fixture on game nights for the Bridgertons. After exchanging a tense look, they shrugged, their competitive sides speaking louder than their petty fighting. And Simon had been right, it was brutal. There was an insane energy that seemed to surround the Bridgertons as the game progressed and Kate’s wild competitiveness fit right in. Daphne had lost her temper on Benedict, throwing the entire filled cup across the table at her brother instead of the ping-pong ball. Eloise had kicked Colin in the shin with considerable force as he tried to cheat his way into pushing three cups closer together. And then there were Anthony and Kate, arguing between themselves although they were playing together.  “You two won the game, Kate!”

“And yet he managed to be his usual annoying self.” Kate huffed, puffing air out of her lips to try to blow her falling locks out of her hair a little unsuccessfully and distract herself from the image of Anthony standing next to her on their side of the table, his sleeves rolled up, their arms touching or him whispering instructions to her ear, his voice low and gruff. “Did you see that ridiculous move when he…?”

“Oh yes, it was so ridiculous that you ended up nose to nose, breathing the same air.” Edwina rolled her eyes a little exasperated at her older sister. By the final round, a game between Daph and Colin versus Kate and Anthony, both teams already at least a little inebriated, her sister and the eldest Bridgerton were already coming to blows over dangerous throws, failed attempts and even successful ones. When one of Anthony’s balls spun three times around the rim of the plastic cup before plopping into the liquid with a splash, Kate had turned to Anthony with fire in her eyes mumbling ‘this could have cost us the game!’ which quickly turned into an argument, that escalated to raised voices and before they even realised, they were standing chest to chest, just a hair of touching, their mouths mere centimetres from one another’s. “You could cut the sexual tension with a knife in that room.” 

“God, you can be so exaggerated sometimes, did you know that?” Kate was trying to deflect the subject.

“If Benedict hadn’t cleared his throat I’d give another three seconds until he kissed you. Or you kissed him, really.” Kate rolled her eyes, clearly in disagreement with her sister’s statement, busying herself with taking a sip of her drink to hide her blush behind her cup. “Why are you so dead set on denying your feelings for him, Katie?” 

“Because there are no feelings, Edwina.” Kate snapped, turning around so fast the drink sloshed in her cup, some of it drenching the front of her mint-green top. “The only feelings I have towards Anthony Bridgerton are exasperation and aggravation.” 

“So you’re telling me that every time you sigh when Anthony rolls up his sleeves, you’re sighing in exasperation?” Siblings did bring out the worst in people, she mused because the knowing smirk on her sister’s lips made Kate want to punch it away. “That those shivers you get when he’s whispering something to you are aggravation? It’s not like you blush every time he looks at you, is it?”

“You should really stop watching these romantic cliches, Eddie, they’re getting into your head.” Kate tutted

“Do you really think I’m that blind?” Edwina assessed her sister with a side look. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, you know.”

“So, I have eyes, he’s handsome. Big deal.” Kate rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t mean I have any feelings. I’ve met handsome men before and you remember how well it turned out.”

“Oh well, you’ve had some questionable taste in men before.” Edwina waved her hand as if it was inconsequential. “Anthony’s not like that, though. There’s obviously something between you.” 

Alright, so maybe Kate might have a tiny bitsy crush on Anthony and maybe, if he’d kissed her, she wouldn’t be upset about it, she might even kiss him back a little. Perhaps she’d slip her fingers through his ludicrously soft hair. Maybe she’d run her hand under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen twitch under her nails and he’d run his hands up her leg… 

Good God, Kathani, get a grip! 

“You’re blushing!” Her sister’s gasp of exclamation startled her, almost making her drop her plastic cup in surprise. 

“Bloody hell, Edwina!”

“You were thinking of him!” She accused gleefully. “Look, your face’s all red!” 

“I absolutely wasn’t.” A shameful lie, but Edwina did not need to know. 

“Didi. Katie. Kate. Kathani. You’ve got it bad. Why can’t you just admit it?” 

“Honestly, Edwina, I sometimes wonder if I even like you.” She commented dryly. From the other, they could hear Anthony cry ‘For fuck’s sake, Benedict!’ followed by a loud groan that had Kate blushing to the root of her hair, her eyes focused on where the voice was coming from. Next to her, Edwina was cackling again. 

“Oh God, Didi, just shag the man and put us all out of our misery!” Edwina’s voice was spaced in between giggles. “Just go outside, kiss him and drag him into Colin’s spare room.” 

“Why don’t you kiss him, since you’re so intent on pointing out to me how handsome he is?” Kate asked bitterly, the most unbecoming pout on her lips in what she knew was the most ridiculous childish manner. 

“Maybe I will.”  Edwina’s eyes gleamed with misfit and her lips curled in a smirk. “He really does look very nice and gossip says he’s an incredible sh–”

“He’s too old for you.” Kate bit back, her tone snippy, Edwina’s face alight with delight in bothering Kate.

“Maybe I like them a little older.” Kate knew Edwina was just taking a mickey on her expenses, but some ugly possessive feeling settled in her chest at the idea of another woman’s hand curled around his arm, of him whispering dry, silly quips into someone’s ear, of some faceless chick making him smile the way he smiled at her. “Oh god, Didi! Your face–!” Edwina’s words were coming out between bouts of uncontrolled laughter. “You looked… ready to hit me…” 

“You are ridiculous, Bon.” Kate shook her head before turning and leaving her cackling sister in the kitchen and making her way out the door. 

And the moment she stepped out back into the living room, when Anthony's gaze automatically fell to her, as It always did, his eyes darkening a bit as he noticed the wet patch on her top, she felt a smug, burning desire coiling in the pit of her stomach wash away the dark jealous feeling with the fixated, entranced way he watched her. Alright, maybe Kate did have feelings for Anthony Bridgerton. If not love, something that might turn into that. She could admit that much. To herself, obviously. Not aloud. 

No, those words would still be kept safe inside her, at least for now. At that moment, as she smiled at him across the room, she had a feeling that it would be enough.

#my writings #my fanfic #For Bruna bc I pissed her off until she sent me a music prompt #my writing #my fic #bridgerton #fanfic #writing #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #Please forgive my shitty moodboard making skills #modern AU

[thekatebridgerton]

Love your stories so much.... Can I have more of the Sophie taking Benedict's virginity and him wanting to marry her while Kate tries to hide her AU.... I can't get it out of my head... You have brilliant creativity.

You know I might actually write this and post it one day. I'm going to call it 'Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss' Kate, Sophie and Penelope's comedy of errors during one unfortunate house party

Whereas Kathani Sharma attempts to gaslight Viscount Bridgerton into beleiving that

1) No such girl named Sophie took his Brother's Virginity

2) Sophie Gunningworth doesn't exist, and that her suspicious maid Sophie Beckett, is not in fact the daughter of an Earl wearing a maid's clothes

3) that Kate has not kissed him repeatedly in the library to keep him from asking more questions about Sophie. Because really to imagine someone like Kate pushing him against a bookcase and kissing him like Sophie's life depends on it? honesty that sounds like a crazy story, Viscount Bridgerton must have been quite in his cups

4) that Kate did not show him her decolletage to distract him from seeing Sophie hiding in her room and that the subsequent hickeys of that encounter are simply allegic reactions to Kate's cosmetics. Because if Viscount Bridgerton had in fact seen Kate's breasts and done unspeakable things to her, then that would be scandalous and wrong and he obviously imagined it and she can't believe he would go so far as to fantasize about something that never happened. Kate Sharma will not stay here to encourage the delusions of Viscount Bridgerton's senile old head. His imagination and delusions of kissing and seducing Kate in the library are too wild. really.

Sophie, will continue to gatekeep to death, avoiding Benedict's attempts at finding her, because she absolutely doesn't want to get married and he's out there carrying her glove and proclaiming she's his one true love. When Sophie just wanted to have a hot night with a handsome lover. No ammout of good intentions in bed are worth losing her inheritance to Araminta if she marries before she's a spinster. Also Sophie came out to have fun and now she's feeling so attacked. Was she really that good at taking his virginity that he's so obsessed now??? #VirginGate

And finally Penelope is encouraged (tricked and ambushed more likely) by Sophie and Kate into well.. girlbossing her way into becoming the center of attention of the ton... and making Colin Bridgerton explode in jealousy (did we mention he's back from Italy?) . Because apparently if Anthony and Benedict are trying to keep Colin from killing every man who looks at Penelope's plump kissable lips for too long. Then they will be too distracted to notice Kate sneaking Sophie back to her father in London with the nearest bribable carriage available. Yup! Penelope's job is to drive Colin crazy. Then of course said mad idiot will become a nuisance to his brothers in an attempt to deny his feelings for Penelope. And Sophie and Kate will be free to avoid the Viscount and the not-virgin for the rest of the house party

Their plans will not backfire. At all

You know maybe I will write it this weekend. Who knows.

#bridgerton #polin #Kanthony #Benophie #kate sharma #sophie beckett #Penelope Featherington #gaslight gatekeep girlboss

[charmingsharma]

❝  one step at a time, one hope, then another. who knows where this road may go? back to who i was, on to find my future. things my heart still needs to know. let this be a sign, let this road be mine. ❞

BASICS

NAME: edwina sharma NICKNAMES: bon (exclusively by kate) AGE: 18 GENDER: cis-female PRONOUNS: she/her ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: pisces MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good SKILLS: piano forte, sitar, maruli, reading HOMETOWN: bombay, india

BACKSTORY

edwina sharma was born into a family riddled with scandal as her mother, a debutante and a daughter of an earl, fell in love with and ran away with a man of a lower class, with a daughter of his own. despite this, edwina’s days were filled ceaseless love from both her parents and her sister, kate, until their father’s untimely end.

despite the tragic loss of her father, edwina found comfort in her mother and sister and they grew even closer as they learned to cope with the tragedy. with his death, came many different complications as there would be no financial support from her grandparents, lord and lady sheffield. however, kate was able to come to an agreement based on the condition of edwina marrying back into nobility.

frankly, edwina did not care much for marrying nobility as she rarely received kindness from her grandparents. she merely wanted to marry well, a true love match so she could spend her days in the love she has always imagined for herself, but with the deal with the sheffield’s now in place, she must find both.

with the guidance of her sister and mother, edwina has been able to become the picture of ultimate grace and elegance as she began the search for the right suitor to make her family and herself happy.

PERSONALITY

edwina is a warm, gentle and loving person. she thrives on learning new skills, discussing interesting literature and creating meaningful connections with the people and world around her. although generally unassuming due to her kindness and young age, edwina is thoughtful and determined to do what is in her best interests. however, this is not done without a consultation of her sister and mother as she trusts them implicitly.

CLOSE RELATIONSHIPS

kathani ‘kate’ sharma ・ kate is edwina’s guiding light. no matter what situation she finds herself in, she will always consult her sister about the best course of action to proceed. there isn’t a single question edwina would not ask kate about as she knows her sister has her best interest at heart. she taught her a great manner of skills to make sure that she stood out amongst the rest as she entered the marriage mart.

mary sharma ・ edwina is much like her mother — mild, kind, and generous with her affections. she has never doubted the love her mother has for her as she continuously chose the family she had created over the family she had been born into.

newton sharma ・ the sharma’s family dog, a source of comfort and companionship for edwina.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

prince friedrich ・ a potential love match as they both are temperate in manner and kind.

love interest  ・ an infatuation that cannot be helped by edwina. she thinks of them constantly. of any rank or nobility.

best friends  ・ people outside of her immediate family that she trusts and enjoys the company of.

new friends  ・ new people she has met upon arriving at the ton for her first season.

#bridgertonrpstask #tw death mention

[music-is-love-90]

Summary: A delay in the ballroom means Kate doesn't hear Anthony lay out his list of requirements for a wife. In turn, he doesn't ruin his chances with her. Even the best laid plans can fall apart when love interferes.

A/N: Yes, I know, I didn't post on Saturday. I'm the worst. I'm in the midst of a hellish move and I've had no time to write. I'm gonna try to be better.

Ch. 24

Anthony rubbed his eyes, wishing he could go back to sleep.  The report in front of him had arrived early that morning and he knew the moment he read it that it would upset Kate.  On top of that, his…guest the night before had kept him from sleeping as he worried about her reaction to that.  All told, he had not slept well at all and he now had to tell Kate all of it.

Everything would be so much easier if they were just married.

Anthony sat back, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back.  For all his former rakish ways, he had no idea how to tell the woman he loved that his former lover had appeared in the middle of the night at his private quarters.

The night before:

Anthony had goodnight to Kate on the steps of Lady Danbury’s house, having thoroughly enjoyed her enjoyment of the night’s entertainment.  In his mind, he imagined nights spent just like this one where, instead of kissing her hand and letting her walk away, Anthony took Kate by the hand and pulled her into his bed and showed her just how much he loved her.

He had set his jacket aside and begun to pull off his cravat when there was a knock at the door.

“Come.”

His butler, Carlisle, opened the door and stepped inside.

“Sir, there is a young lady downstairs, asking to see you.”

“Kate?”

Without waiting for an answer, he pushed past the man, bounding down the stairs.  Why would she be here?  Was something wrong?

He slowed as she saw the woman in the dark cloak standing near the door.

“Kathani, what are you doing here?  Is everything alrig-“  The woman turned, lowering her hood, and he stopped.  “Siena.  What are you doing here?”

“I saw you at the performance tonight.” She told him, stepping forward.  “I just returned to London last week and I wanted to see you, but I was unsure if I would be welcome.  Then I saw you tonight and I…I missed you, Anthony.”

“Siena.” He sighed, rubbing his hand across his face.

“I’m sorry.” She told him, a hint of pleading entering her voice.  “I made a mistake, Anthony.  You scared me and I ran away to keep myself safe.  You cannot blame me for that.  I am sorry.”

“You saw me at the theater?”

Siena nodded.

“I was so happy.  I missed – “

“Then you must have seen the woman I was with?” Anthony interrupted.

“Of course.” She said, confused.  “So?”

“So, her name is Miss Sharma.” He told her.  “I plan on marrying her.”

“And?” she said dismissively.  “What has that to do with me?  With us?  I never wanted marriage, only you.” She took a step forward, placing her hands on his chest.  “You can have your Viscountess and me.”

Anthony gently took her hands in his and pushed them away.

“I am marrying her because I love her, Siena.” He told her softly.  “I would never disrespect her in that way.  I love her.  Can you understand that?”  He sighed again.  “You said I was lost, and you were right, but instead of helping me find my way, you broke me.  She was the one to find me, to put me back together again.  I love her and I will not hurt her like this.  You need to leave, Siena, and you need to never come back.”

“You loved me once.” She told him softly.

“I did.” Anthony agreed.  “But you left.  And if you ever loved me at all, you will stay gone.  Please, Siena.  Please leave.”

Siena nodded, pulling her hood back up.  She started to walk to the door, but she paused.

“I’m glad she found you.” She said softly, not looking at him.  “You are a good man, Lord Bridgerton.  You deserve to be happy.”

With that, she slipped out the door and into the night, leaving him alone.

Anthony was fairly sure no one had seen her come or go.  Siena was well practiced in the art of not being seen when she didn’t want to be, but, still, Kate deserved to know she had been there.  With the added weight of the report his man had delivered, it was shaping up to be a long day.

~.~

This was going to be a long day; Kate was sure of it.

Daphne had sent her regrets that she would not be able to attend the fete at the lake that day, so Lady Bridgerton seemed to have made herself Kate’s champion in her stead.  This meant that she had glued herself to Kate’s side as she led the younger woman around to all of the other matrons, making her support of her son’s choice clear.

Basically, Kate was in hell and there seemed to be no escape as she stood on the shore of the lake, making nice with all the ladies of the ton who seemed to want to curry favor with her just days after snubbing Mary.  She didn’t even have Newton to distract her as Lady Danbury had strictly forbidden her corgi from promenades. 

On top of that, Anthon had not appeared yet.  She was becoming accustomed to his work taking up much of his time during the day and even as she missed him, she understood.  She rather hoped she’d be able to help him with it someday.  Still, it didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t here, suffering alongside her now.

“Isn’t that right, Miss Sharma?”

Kate had absolutely no clue what Lady Bridgerton had been saying, so she simply smiled and nodded, hoping she hadn’t just sold her first-born child.  She spotted Benedict setting up an easel nearby and quickly murmured her excuses before escaping.

“I will be your friend for the rest of time if you rescue me from your mother.” She hissed as he placed his canvas on the easel.

“I am going to need more than that for that feat.”  He told her dryly.  “She’s terrifying when she’s like this.”

“Where is your brother?” she demanded, not even attempting to seem nonchalant.  “He told me he would suffer through this with me.”

“I am sure he was just held up and will be here soon.” He soothed her.  “Perhaps your sister will shield you until he arrives?”

Kate glanced over to where Edwina listened to Lord Lumley with one ear, clearly searching the crowd for someone else.

“You have still failed me this day and I will not forget it,” she told him playfully as he sneered at her, “but I believe I will follow your advice.  Good day, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Good day, Miss Sharma.”

She abandoned Benedict and his painting and headed towards her sister, doing her best to avoid any more conversations with the mamas of the ton as she went.

“Miss Sharma!”

Kate sighed and stopped.  She took a deep breath, forced a smile, and turned to face Mr. Dorset as he approached.

“Mr. Dorset, how lovely to see you again.”

The man in question smiled a perfectly pleasant smile as he stopped in front of her.

“You as well, Miss Sharma.  I am surprised to see you without Lord Bridgerton.  It is rare to see you out of his company these days.”

“Lord Bridgerton was delayed, unfortunately, but he should be arriving shortly.” She told him, hoping that would be it, but Mr. Dorset’s smile brightened.

“Well, why don’t I keep you company until he arrives?” he suggested.  “I would love to continue our conversation of India.  Perhaps you would be so kind as to accompany me on a turn around the lake?”

Kate glanced back at Lady Bridgerton, surrounded by mamas, and sighed.

“Of course, Mr. Dorset.”

She took his arm and let him lead her off.

~.~

Anthony arrived at the park in a foul mood.  Everything had taken longer this morning than he anticipated and when he was finally ready to leave, his horse had thrown a shoe.  Now he was finally here, and Kate was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Miss Sharma?” he demanded as he reached his brother’s spot.  “For that matter, where is Daphne?”

“Good morning, brother dear.” Benedict said cheerfully.  “Why, yes, it is a lovely day.  It is sad that Daphne, our dear, beloved sister could not attend today’s festivities due to our precious little Auggie’s colic.  Miss Sharma was distressed by your tardiness, but I am sure she will forgive you if you apologize post haste.”

Anthony glared at him.

“You really do believe you are a great wit, do you not?”

“I really do.” Benedict agreed easily, smiling in the face of his brother’s clear annoyance.  “But, to your question on the whereabouts of your dear Miss Sharma, she was heading towards her sister last I saw.”

Anthony quickly searched the crowd and found Edwina not too far away, chatting happily with Lord Morrison.  That was its own problem, but less pressing than finding Kate at the moment.

“She’s not with Miss Edwina.”

“Well, she was actively avoiding Mother like a true Bridgerton.” Benedict reported.  “That is all the information I have.”

“You are utterly useless to me.” Anthony told him. 

“I aim to please.” His brother replied snidely.

Anthony’s eyes continued to roam the assembled crowd until he reached the lake and froze.

“What is Kate doing in a boat with Dorset?” he hissed, making Benedict beam.

“So, you are calling her Kate!” he chortled.  “Brilliant!”

“Benedict!”

“Oh, calm yourself, Anthony.” He said, still chuckling.  “I assume he asked, and she accepted to get away from the mamas.  She’ll be back shortly.”

Anthony watched as Kate laughed at something Dorset said and fought the urge to hit something, preferably his brother since Dorset was still on the lake.  He calmed himself by reminding himself that Kate would not like it if he started a fight, no matter how much he would enjoy it.

“I told you they would notice her eventually.” Benedict told him.  “Apparently Dorset is braver than I thought, though.”

Anthony saw that their boat was approaching the shore and he abandoned his brother without another word.

~.~

Kate had to admit she had enjoyed her respite on the water.  Mr. Dorset was pleasant company and she had enjoyed speaking of India with someone who had actually been there, but now they were returning to shore and the embrace of the ton, who had definitely figured out that their daughters had lost their chance to be Viscountess Bridgerton to an upstart from India.

Kate closed her eyes, leaning back to feel the sun on her face, and enjoyed the last moments of peace as Dorset hopped out onto the dock to tie up the boat.

“That knot will never hold.”

A smile broke across her face and Kate opened her eyes to find Anthony kneeling next to Dorset.

“It is perfectly adequate.” The other man protested.

“Then I must question your nautical skills, Dorset.” Anthony replied dismissively.  “Allow me.”

Dorset reluctantly relinquished the rope and stepped aside.  Anthony quickly finished and stood, holding his hand out to Kate.

“Miss Sharma.”

Kate quirked her eyebrow at him before accepting his hand.

“Lord Bridgerton.”

He helped her up, but he didn’t let go when she was on the dock.

“You are late.” She said softly.

“Forgive me, my darling.” He replied, just as softly, making her blush.  “I was unavoidably detained.  It will not happen again.”

“I will hold you to that, my Lord.”

Kate realized he was still holding her hand, so she gently squeezed his fingers before reluctantly letting go.

“Shall we continue our conversation, Miss Sharma?”

They both jumped, surprised by Dorset’s continuing presence.  Kate opened her mouth to answer, but Anthony beat her to it.

“I’m afraid I have already secured Miss Sharma’s company for the afternoon.” He told the other man.  “Thank you for keeping her entertained while I was unavoidably detained.  Perhaps you can finish your conversation another time.”

Kate was torn between wanting to rebel against his high handedness and her lingering joy at his arrival.

“Are you sure, Miss Sharma?” Dorset asked, ignoring Anthony completely.  “I am sure Bridgerton could spare you for a while longer.”

“I did promise to accompany Lord Bridgerton.” She replied, resisting the urge to elbow him as he preened.  “But I do look forward to continuing our conversation at a later date.”

She smiled as Anthony deflated slightly and Dorset returned her smile.

“Of course.” He agreed easily.  “I look forward to it.  Miss Sharma, Bridgerton.”

He nodded to them before turning and leaving them alone.

“What did I say about you smiling at men who are not me?” Anthony asked lowly as he led her away.

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before leaving me alone at the tender mercy of your mother.” Kate shot back.

“My horse threw a shoe just as I was leaving.” He told her, frustration leaking into his voice.  “That was after a hectic morning of things that really require that I speak with you, but only if we’re alone.”

Kate linked her arm with his and he allowed her touch to sooth him as it always did.

“I was considering a ride before dinner tonight.” She told him.  “What is your opinion of the weather at that time?”

“I believe that will be a very pleasant time for you to ride.” He agreed blandly.

Kate pulled herself closer, knocking her shoulder into his.

“Very well.  Tell me you missed me, and all shall be forgiven.”

“Only every time I breathed.” He replied, smiling softly.

“As it should be, for I feel the same.” She told him.  “Now, if I have to suffer the displeasure of the mamas, you shall be at my side the whole time.”

“There is no place I would rather be.” He said, lifting her hand to press a kiss to it.

Kate smiled and Anthony allowed her to lead him back into the crowd.

~.~

Lord Morrison had left after only a half hour or so, but that suited Edwina just fine.  He had come with the expressed purpose of seeing her and had left without paying attention to any young lady other than her.

With her mama chatting with other ladies of the ton, Edwina was left quite on her own as her thoughts turned to her sister.  Lord Bridgerton had yet to make an appearance, even as his mother monopolized Kate from the moment they had arrived.  Despite this supposed ‘understanding’, Edwina felt sure that the Viscount’s attention would soon wain, which was why she was glad to spot Kate out on the water with Mr. Dorset.

“What a handsome couple they make!” she said happily to herself.

“Pardon me?”

Edwina jumped slightly, not having realized Lady Danbury had been standing so close.

“Mr. Dorset and my sister.” She explained.  “I noticed he seemed smitten with her at the race.  I simply was musing that he might convince her to remain in England.”

“What makes you believe she is still planning on leaving?” Lady Danbury asked.  “Especially given that Lord Bridgerton has already put considerable effort into accomplishing that.  One does usually require one’s bride to reside in country, after all.”

“If he marries her.” Edwina muttered.

“Why would you say that?” the matron demanded sharply.  “Lord Bridgerton gave your sister his word that only his desire to give her a Season and her desire to see you settled were his only hinderances.  If you know something to the contrary, speak up child.”

“I know nothing to the contrary.” Edwina said almost petulantly.  “But Kate has no dowry, no title.  He may change his mind and it is for the best that Kate has another choice available to her.”

“You may be the granddaughter of an Earl, my dear, but as of right now, you have no more dowry or title than your sister.” Lady Danbury said strictly.  “And you clearly have not been paying attention if you believe the Viscount will willingly give your sister up.  I would caution you to keep any doubts about your sister’s marriage to yourself.  Even a broken understanding could harm not only her, but you as well.”

Edwina flushed in anger.

“I simply do not want my sister to get hurt.” She hissed.  “The Viscount has a reputation and Kate has never been courted before.  He might take advantage of her!”

“Leave the protection of your sister’s heart to me and your mama.” The matron ordered.  “We have it well in hand.  I would suggest you worry about your own prospects and let your sister enjoy her courtship.”

Lady Danbury nodded to something behind her and Edwina turned to see Kate smiling brightly on the arm of Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

“Very well.” She ground out, turning away.

“Excellent.” Lady Danbury replied, satisfied.  “Now, you should mingle.  Perhaps you will find your own second choice.”

She linked her arm with the vaguely hostile young woman and led her off.

~.~

Kate found that being paraded in front of the ton was much more palatable with Anthony at her side.  He was always quick with a distraction when it became too much and his hand resting on hers in the crux of his arm was a spot to ground her, which she was very thankful for.

When it truly became too much for either of them, they escaped to Benedict’s side.  Kate finally moved away from Anthony’s side as she leaned over Benedict’s shoulder to study the painting of the boats on the lake.

“It’s lovely, Benedict.” She told him with a soft smile. 

“You still need to pain with me.” He told her, pointing his brush at her.  “You promised and I haven’t forgotten.”

“Of course.” She agreed, laughing.  “Perhaps next week?”

He nodded, satisfied, before returning to his work.  She returned to Anthony’s side and let her gaze wander before spotting a particular boat on the water.

“I knew it!” she crowed, smirking.

“What did you know?” Anthony asked.

“That Mr. Dorset was only talking to me to get to Edwina.” She proclaimed, satisfied.  “Look, he took her out on the water.”

“I think it is actually the opposite.” Benedict said, not looking away from his painting and, consequently, not seeing the death stare his brother sent his way.  “He is likely hoping to make you jealous.”

“Do not be ridiculous.” Kate scoffed.

“He’s not the only one.” Benedict continued, blissfully unaware of the hole Anthony seemed to be trying to burn in his skull.  “Lords Allenby and Willingham, as well as Misters Longaberger and Cabot, have all expressed an interest in courting you.  Anthony almost came to blows with Cabot at White’s the other day over it.”

Kate turned to stare at Anthony.

“Is this true?” she demanded.  “Have you been scaring off my suitors?”

“I will kill you.” He hissed at his brother, who finally realized his older brother was unhappy with him, before turning to face Kate.  “I believe scaring is a strong word.  Besides, would you really want someone who could be scared off by me?”

He smiled at her, but she kept glaring.

“You are Viscount Bridgerton.” She hissed.  “I doubt any of the men Benedict just named have the power in society that you do.”

“They don’t.”

“Stop helping.”

Kate glared at the brothers and they fell silent.

“You had no right to make those decision for me.” She told Anthony seriously.  “Choosing you means nothing if you do not trust me to make that choice.”

“Kathani – “

“No.” she cut him off.  “You do not get to make my choices for me, Anthony Bridgerton.”

Whatever else she might have said was cut off by a scream and a splash.  The whole crowd turned to the lake as the blood drained from Kate’s face.

“Where is Edwina?”

She took off towards the lake, Anthony and Benedict on her heels.  She spotted Dorset in the water, but Edwina was no where to be seen.  They reached the dock and Anthony stripped off his jacket, thrusting it at Benedict, before jumping into the water.  Kate watched in terror as he swam to the center of the lake and disappeared under the water.  Everything was still for a moment before the surface broke once more and Anthony appeared with a sputtering Edwina in his arms.  Kate waited the longest moments of her life for Anthony to deliver her sister to her waiting arms.

“Benedict, give her my jacket.” Anthony ordered as Kate pulled the shivering Edwina into her arms.

Benedict did as ordered and Anthony pulled himself out of the water.  Mary threw herself down on the other side of Edwina as the young girl sneezed.

“We need to get her home.” Kate told her, pulling her sister closer.

“Allow me.”

Benedict pulled Edwina into his arms and easily picked her up to carry her towards the Danbury carriage.  Mary quickly followed, but Kate hesitated, looking to Anthony.

“Go.” He told her.  “I’ll follow as soon as I can.”

She reached out to squeeze his hand before doing as he said.

~.~

Kate nervously waited in the parlor as they waited for the doctor to arrive.

“Lord Bridgerton, Miss.”

Kate barely waited for the footman to leave before throwing herself into Anthony’s arms.

“Shh.” He soothed as she shook.  “Everything will be alright.”

“You don’t know that.” She told him, her teeth chattering.  “She could catch lung fever.  She could – “

She broke off, shaking harder, and Anthony started to grow concerned.  He led her to the couch and made her sit before heading to the side bar and pouring a glass of brandy.  He took it back and handed it to her, sitting down next to her.

“Sips.” He told her.  “It will help settle your nerves.”

She did as he said and her shaking slowly stopped.  He wrapped his arm around her, and her head dropped to his chest as he ran his hand soothingly up and down her arm.

“She will be alright.” He told her softly.  “She is young, strong, and healthy.  At most, she might have a cold.  She will be alright.”

Kate nodded, burrowing further into his arms.

“Thank you.” She said, her voice muffled by his jacket.  “Thank you for rescuing her.”

“I told you,” he said, holding her tightly, “she will be my family.  There is nothing I would not do for my family.”

Kate sighed and closed her eyes, allowing his scent to calm the last of her nerves.

“I will allow this impropriety this once because we have all had a trying day.”

The couple sprang apart and saw Lady Danbury watching them from the doorway.

“I also trust that is your glass, Lord Bridgerton?” she continued as she made her way towards them.

“Of course, my Lady.”

“Hmm.  Miss Sharma, the doctor has arrived, and you mama is asking for you.”

Kate leapt to her feet and Anthony moved to follow, but Lady Danbury rapped him sharply on the shin with her cane, sending him back onto the couch.

“I shall keep you company down here, Lord Bridgerton.”

Kate turned to look at him and he just shrugged.  She sighed and started to turn but stopped.

“I forgive you.” She told him.  “For what was revealed earlier.  Just…do not do anything like that again.”

“I won’t.” he told her sincerely.

Kate searched his eyes for a moment before nodding and leaving the room.  Anthony turned back to find Lady Danbury scrutinizing him. 

“For what did you require forgiveness, Lord Bridgerton?”

Anthony winced.

“Just a misunderstanding regarding Miss Sharma’s…potential suitors.”

“Ah.  She found out you’ve been driving them off, did she?”

Anthony stared at her as she smirked.

“If you have not already learned that I know everything, Lord Bridgerton, I despair for you.”  She told him.  “I know exactly which suitors have been in my house for which of the girls, even if they were not aware.  Your presence has deterred most of them, but a few persist.  Your interest even emboldened some of them, not that she noticed.  You are all she sees.  If I ever find you are abusing that fact, you shall find that there is no place on Earth where you will be safe from me.  Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Lady.” He said, swallowing.

“Excellent.” She stood up briskly.  “Given today’s events, dinner tonight will be a quiet family affair, so I will deliver your goodbyes to Miss Sharma, shall I?”

Anthony sighed, but stood as well.

“Please deliver my good wishes for Miss Edwina’s continued good health as well, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Very good.” Lady Danbury praised.  “We may make a gentleman out of you yet.”

Anthony just shook his head before bowing and taking his leave.

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton season 2 #Anthony Bridgerton #Kate Sharma #Kathani Sharma #Anthony x Kate #Kate x Anthony #Kanthony #Best Laid Plans