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Day 2: Kate and Edwina (Sisterhood)

Kate sighed quietly as she slipped into the room in the boarding house she shared with her sister, Edwina. It has been a particularly long day spent in her apprenticeship, trying to work out the stitching for the bonnet she was meant to finish this week. It was murder on her hands but the pay was good and they needed the funds if they were going to survive in London. 

London. Kate closed her eyes for a moment. They should have never come here-- should have never had to come here. But Somerset was a small village with no theaters and Edwina…. 

Edwina had real talent. Not even sixteen and she was already appearing in Romeo and Juliet. As a background actress, admittedly, but it was still impressive. Her natural beauty shone on stage and Kate was certain it was only a matter of time before she won a lead role.

Of course that was the problem-- time. Kate and Edwina had lost both their father, who had already been sick for several years, and Mary much more suddenly to a terrible flu one year earlier. Kate was barely eighteen then and it had been a terrible shock. Lord Sheffield, their father's older brother and the only living relation who acknowledged them, was too deep in debt to take them in. 

They visited their uncle for a spell as they sold what little they could for capital and then made their way to London in search of reliable employment. Thankfully, their father's former steward was able to help Kate find an apprenticeship at a family run milliner's shop. It was not easy and she was the first to admit she didn't take to it naturally, but she worked hard and that was enough to keep her employed. For now.

Day 4: Kate and the Bridgertons (Mallet of Death)

Katharine Sheffield walked down the street like she owned it. She was a tall woman-- the heels she wore had her standing easily over six feet. With dark, intelligent eyes that never missed a beat and darker curly hair framing her face, she was striking. Not beautiful exactly but there was something about her.

Colin only met her once but she'd made a strong impression. Judging by the wary look Anthony was giving her, he wasn't the only one who thought that.

"Bridgertons," she nodded once in greeting, "it's been a while."

When Anthony didn't pick up the thread, Colin slapped an obviously fake grin on his face. "Kate. Nearly five years since you testified against me."

Kate smiled back, all sharp edges. "Well, you did steal a painting insured by my employer for several million dollars."

"Allegedly," Anthony interrupted, ever the lawyer.

Kate's gaze jumped to the older brother and narrowed, eyes ice cold. "Allegedly," she repeated dryly.

They stared at each other unblinking for a long moment. "Well, isn't this just a happy reunion..." Colin said in a soto voice.

"Colin," Anthony snapped in a warning tone. He looked back at Kate. "You called for a reason?" he prompted.

Looking a bit like she'd smelled something rotten (and that something was them), Kate nodded. "My company, ARTE Generali, insured a hundred million in non-government Japanese bearer bonds."

Colin whistled. "Samurai bonds. Nice." Two matching glares snapped to his face and he held up his hands innocently. An illusion neither was buying, especially when he decided to ask: "That's a hundred million in yen or U.S. dollars?"

"Dollars," Kate confirmed with an unamused eye roll. No one was calling the FBI over a hundred million yen-- that was pocket change for a company like ARTE Generali.

Head tilted thoughtfully, Colin couldn't help asking, "And what's your cut if you recover them?"

Kate smirked. "Two percent." Colin resisted the urge to whistle again. "Which I only see if we find them, so…" She pulled a manila folder from her bag and handed it to Anthony who immediately flipped it open. "The truck was hijacked in transport, and I think the bonds are somewhere here in New York."

All of the earlier tension seemed to have dissipated as Anthony focused on the business at hand. "Danbury said you believe Nigel Berbrook is involved."

Kate nodded distractedly, something nearby catching her eye.

Anthony handed Colin the file to flip through-- it held pictures of the missing bonds, the truck, Berbrook. "Big international real-estate guy," Colin commented absently as he skimmed the man's biosheet. "He can move them without raising flags."

Kate's sharp gaze cut back to him for a moment. "Yes, he can." She offered another grin that could cut glass. "Excuse me for a moment."

Colin watched as Kate spoke quietly with the valet before glancing surreptitiously at his brother. Anthony looked… well, honestly, Colin wasn't certain what the expression on his brother's face meant. When he turned his gaze back to Kate, she was accepting the keys to an incredibly expensive looking car.

A man in a suit rushed out to the street. "Hey! That's my car! What the hell--?"

"Mr. Hartside, listen to me," Kate said in a confident, no-nonsense tone, "you can change the vin numbers, you can change the grill, the paint-- it's still an Aston Martin Victor. I know because you did not change the electronic vin behind the steering wheel."

The man's face was turning the most interesting magenta color. "You're crazy! You're stealing my car!"

"No, you stole it. I'm taking it back." Hartside reached into his jacket but Kate was faster. She pulled out a baton and made quick work of him, landing her final blow to the shin. Colin winced-- that had to hurt. "You are more than welcome to file a complaint with the FBI," she added, nodding toward them.

Hartside looked at Anthony who was already flashing his badge. "Special Agent Bridgerton, FBI."

The man, whose complexion had made a startling turn from red to white, tried to hurry away despite having been rather effectively hobbled. "This is obviously a misunderstanding. I should…"

Anthony pulled out his cuffs. "You should stop walking and keep your hands where I can see them."

"Yeah, running just annoys him," Colin told Hartside, flashing a charming smile toward his brother. He walked over to Kate who was now leaning against the car watching the arrest with mild interest. "So you're basically a high-class repo person."

Kate's predatory smile returned. "I prefer white-collar bounty hunter."

"Pithy," Anthony grunted as he wrangled Hartside. "Damn it, Kate, do you always have to go for the shins?"

With wide innocent eyes no one who'd witnessed the last five minutes would ever believe, Kate shrugged. "It was my only defense." There was something hard in her tone that hadn't been there before and Colin didn't miss his brother's responding grimace.

Kate pushed herself off the car and pulled a card from her bag. "When you want to talk about that painting, call me." She pressed the card firmly to Colin's chest until he took it but her gaze was on Anthony. "Bridgertons." The corner of her mouth ticked upwards. "Hartside."

She walked around to the open car door, slid inside like she belonged there and drove off. Colin let out a long exhale, relieved she'd left. There was something too perceptive about Katharine Sheffield. She was dangerous.

Day 6: Kate and Anthony (Menace)

After returning Edwina to her chaperoning mother, Anthony was quickly waved over to the refreshments by his younger brother Colin. Standing beside him was a tall dark haired woman Anthony had not met before.

"Brother!" Colin grinned widely-- generally a bad sign for Anthony. "Miss Sheffield and I were just speaking of you."

"Miss… Sheffield," he repeated slowly. 

"Edwina is my younger sister," she said stiffly.

Though she stood a head taller and had more angular features, he could see a familial resemblance around the eyes and nose area. "Ah, yes. The gatekeeper."

This was quite obviously the wrong thing to say. Miss Sheffield's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Excuse me?"

Never one to retreat, Anthony instead doubled down. "Your sister did say she would not marry without your approval, did she not?"

Miss Sheffield raised her brows. "So in this scenario, the gate I am keeping is for becoming betrothed to Edwina?"

"I suppose, yes," Anthony agreed with all the arrogance of a (future) member of the peerage.

"Hmmmph." Somehow Miss Sheffield managed to imbue quite a lot of disapproval into the sound. (It reminded him a bit too much of Lady Danbury, an elderly matron known for speaking her mind freely, wielding a cane with deadly accuracy and whom most of the ton had a very healthy fear of.)

"Brother," Colin spoke up, reminding Anthony he was still standing there, "I have promised Miss Sheffield the next dance. Unfortunately I have just now realized I also promised the dance to Miss Featherington."

Anthony was not feeling particularly charitable at that moment and smiled insincerely in response. "Shall I find Penelope to act as substitute?"

"Nonsense!" Colin waved the suggestion away. "Miss Sheffield is here-- take her to the floor and I shall handle Miss Featherington."

"I am certain the future Viscount is quite in demand," Miss Sheffield sniffed, injecting a remarkable amount of disdain into what should have been a complementary sentiment. "I release you of your obligation."

"No, that will not do!" Colin's charm was out in full force. "I would feel simply terrible if you were forced to sit out because of my inexcusable error."

"Really, I--"

That was enough for Anthony. He actually was quite in demand but being refused by this impertinent chit was raising his hackles. "Come Miss Sheffield," he interrupted, taking her arm none too gently and steering her toward the floor.

When they reached their spot, he turned to face her. Miss Sheffield smirked up at him. "You are going to regret this decision."

"Oh?" Anthony raised his brows. "I am not known for having many regrets."

"Yes, well," she looked away and he might've thought her bashful if she were not standing quite so straight, "I hope you wore thick boots."

Anthony waited until she met his gaze again to respond. "You would not dare."

She smiled a bit ruefully. "Honestly, I could not prevent it if I tried. I am a notoriously terrible dancer."

That startled a laugh from him. "Well then I shall hope my boots are sturdy enough indeed."

As it happened they were not. Oh, they handled Miss Sheffield's missteps well enough but when she stomped on his foot at the close of the dance it was all he could do not to swear aloud. He had, admittedly, baited her but such a juvenile response was shocking. 

Anthony did not escort her from the dancefloor. In truth she swept off before he could offer-- not that he would have after such a display but it still irked him. Instead he limped to where his parents were standing, both looking perplexed, as Colin practically cried with laughter. 

"Did you even dance with Penelope?" Anthony demanded in lieu of a greeting.

Colin couldn't seem to catch his breath, he was wheezing as he nodded.

Violet tutted at the younger brother, while Edmund pulled Anthony toward him. "Is everything all right, son?"

"Fine," he all but growled. Catching his father's startled expression (Anthony rarely had such fits of pique in his presence), he forced himself to take a deep breath. "Fine," he repeated in a calmer tone. He caught sight of Miss Sheffield and felt his neck heat in anger again. "But that woman is a menace."

Edmund spluttered, clearly trying to suppress a laugh of his own. Anthony gave it up as a bad job and excused himself to head to his club. He had had quite enough of the ton for one night.

Day 3: Don't Leave

It was so, so late. Anthony should have been home hours earlier, but he just... couldn't. Kate was already in bed, curled away from his side. His limbs felt clumsy as he tried to quietly undress.

"It's okay, you know." Her voice cut like a knife through the oppressive silence in the room. "You never made me any promises. You don't owe me anything."

It felt like there was a vice in his chest squeezing impossibly tight.

"This is your home," she continued, clearly oblivious to his misery, "I never want you to feel like you can't be here. I can always stay with Ed or Mary--"

"No," it sounded as strangled as he felt. "You don't have to leave."

Kate let out a quiet huff. "I know that I don't have to, but I--"

Anthony cut her off again. "Please don't. I… I want you to stay."

The silence stretched out between them for an impossibly long time.

"Okay," she said finally but something was off in her tone. "Now come to bed. It's late and we both have early mornings."

Anthony did as he was told but the vice refused to loosen. Sleep was elusive that night.

Day 4: He is YOUR dog

Suddenly Hyacinth was in front of him, tugging his sleeve. "Anthony, there is a dog!"

"Hmm?" His eyes followed her pointing to a rotund corgi on a lead that was held by… Miss Sheffield. As if his mind had conjured her. 

Anthony swallowed reflexively. Her head was tilted back, allowing the sun to warm her face. She was wearing deep purple today and was, naturally, as striking as ever. 

"Please may we say hello to the dog?" Hyacinth asked eagerly. "Please, please!" Gregory appeared more interested in the owner than the dog but Anthony decided not to dwell on that, for both their sakes.

There was nothing for it. He'd have no peace either way but at least if they said hello he wouldn't have sullen children on his hands, too. "I think that is a question better directed to his owner. Shall we ask Miss Sheffield?"

That was all the encouragement the young Bridgertons needed. They raced off enthusiastically with Anthony and Nanny following quickly behind, the latter scolding them to walk like ladies and gentlemen. (A bit of a tall order given their ages.)

By the time Anthony arrived, his siblings were foisting a truly spectacular amount of attention upon Miss Sheffield's corgi. He nodded his greeting and she returned it with a curtsey. "Did they at least introduce themselves?" he asked, expression doubtful.

"I believe they were overcome, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiled indulgently toward the youngsters and he had the terrifying thought that she would make a wonderful mother someday. Her expression became tense when she looked at him again. "They are your..?"

"Siblings," he confirmed. 

Only Gregory acknowledged him, waving shyly. "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Sheffield," he said politely, flushed. 

"And I yours, Mr. Bridgerton," she replied kindly.

Face now fully pink, Gregory muttered something and turned toward the dog. (Overcome indeed.)

There was a long stretch of silence between them that was not precisely comfortable as the pinched look had returned to Miss Sheffield's face. Anthony cast about for something to say that wasn't inane smalltalk. (He had never had the patience for that.) Looking again at his happy family, inspiration finally struck. "Will you not introduce me to your companion?" 

She let out a startled laugh. Well, it was more of an amused huff but Anthony was pleased all the same. "If you wish. This is Newton." The corgi, who had been on his back accepting belly rubs, perked up at his name. The corners of her mouth lifted into a fond smile. "He is an excellent judge of character."

Anthony suspected he had a very similar look on his face. "So he is."

Day 6: Viscountess

"I was going to ask you to marry me."

Kate stopped breathing. "What?"

"I was going to ask for your hand. I even picked out a ring– it's in my quarters but I can get it if you–"

Kate shook her head. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you going to propose?"

Anthony frowned. "Because it makes sense, I suppose. You need money for Edwina's season, I need a wife. We have good conversation, shared values, undeniable chemistry. And I have every confidence you will be an excellent Viscountess."

"What about love?"

"I never planned on marrying for love and neither did you."

Kate felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. The straightforward manner in which he spoke told her everything she needed to know. While she had been falling in love with him, he had felt none of those feelings.

Kate Sharma x Lucy Granville (because self-realized women are awesome)

"Do you need assistance with your clothes, Miss Sharma?"

Kate shook her head, cheeks warming. She had needed help not so long ago. Her clothes had been slightly outdated but well made; now they were hardly better than rags.

She took the clothes from Lucy but the other woman did not move away. Instead she brushed Kate's curls back from her face. "You have remarkable features. It's why I suggested you model in the first place."

"Th-thank you?"

"I speak only the truth." 

Still she did not move away. "Lady Granville, I have to change…"

"Please, call me Lucy." Kate nodded. "And I may call you Kate?" She nodded again. "Kate… do you know what happens here in the late hours?"

Kate shook her head, eyes wide. 

"We are bohemians, Mr. Granville and I. We take pleasure as we wish– but only as it is offered freely. Do you understand?"

Kate shook her head again.

"I like you, Kate. You are beautiful and different, and I should like to kiss you," Kate inhaled sharply, "but only if you should also wish it. Should you not, we need never speak of this again. Your invitation here is secure regardless of your choices tonight– or, indeed, any night." A sensual smile formed in her lips. "The goal is pleasure for all involved."

"But will I not be… fallen?" Kate hated the timidity in her voice but her virtue was all that remained of her former life.

"Perhaps in the eyes of some but it is not for them to know what we do here. And the act men of God speak of– the one that results in children– requires at least one man be present." Lucy placed a hand on her cheek. "The kiss, dear Kate, would be just for us."

"Okay."

Lucy smiled and it warmed her whole face. She placed Kate's clothes on a nearby chair and then moved close again. Tucking another stubborn strand behind Kate's ear, she leaned close and brought their lips together.

Day 1: Amma, Appa, Mama

Mary Sharma was not in the habit of eavesdropping on her daughters. In fact, if asked about the possibility of doing so only one day earlier, she would have laughed at the absurdity.

And yet, when she walked past Edwina's door, conveniently cracked open, and heard Kate exclaim, "He humiliated me, bon! Do you not care at all?" she stopped in her tracks.

Surely, she had misheard. When Edwina and Kate returned from the Royal Ascot, they said nothing of any issues arising and claimed it was a lovely afternoon. Edwina even gushed over Kate's pick winning the main event.

Although… had Kate smiled when Edwina mentioned that? Mary was embarrassed to admit that her focus was much more on her younger daughter, so effervescent as she described their afternoon. Kate had not spoken at all until she suggested, in a manner that was less suggestion and more instruction, that they retire upstairs for some rest. That was not an unusual occurrence, so Mary had not given the directive a second thought.

Perhaps, she reflected as she heard Edwina huff petulantly, she should have. "And what alternatives did you leave him, akka?" Edwina countered, sounding surprisingly sulky. "You practically barred him from entry–"

"His lateness barred him from entry." Kate's defensiveness was evident in her tone. She softened her voice as she continued, clearly trying to reason with her sister, "He is wholly unsuitable for you. Surely you must see that."

Edwina's tone held firm. "I do not see that. He assured me that he only wished to spend time with me, something you have tried to prevent. I think that most romantic."

"Romantic?" Kate's cry was filled with incredulity.

Enough. Mary was their mother and this argument did not appear to be resolving itself. She pushed her way into the room to find her daughters facing one another with matching stubborn expressions– not an unusual sight for Kate but for Edwina a bit less in character.

Almost in unison, they turned to face Mary and adopted innocent expressions. It was a little unsettling, truth be told. Kate spoke first, as she always did, "Mama, were you seeking an audience with Edwina? I can–"

"Stay, Kate," Mary said, firm but not unkind. "I believe there is more to today's outing than you shared with me earlier, and I should like to hear about it."

Kate remained in her spot but inclined her head toward Edwina, deferring the spotlight to her younger sister… as she always did. (Had she truly not noticed this?) And Edwina did not question it as her right or privilege; she simply opened her mouth to speak.

Mary was quicker. "No. I should like to hear about it from Kate."

Her elder daughter's jaw clenched and she averted her eyes. "It is of no consequence."

"I shall be the judge of that," Mary insisted firmly. "Tell me what occurred, please."

Where she expected anger or frustration, Mary instead found hurt in Kate's expression, in her glistening gaze. "A Mister Dorset requested an introduction. He pretended at an interest in me but it was a trick. Lord Bridgerton wished to distract me from my duties as chaperone." She looked at the ground. "I was humiliated."

"He had no choice, Mama!" Edwina objected, eyes wide and pleading. "Kate has–"

Kate's gaze remained on the floor but there was a new tension in her. Mary could not recall the last time she saw her eldest so distraught. "Edwina," she scolded, not hiding her disappointment, "there is always a choice where the feelings of others are concerned." Her younger daughter pouted and Mary frowned deeply. Had they protected Edwina so much she could truly not see how upset her sister was?

Kate cleared her throat. "It need not be of any consequence," she repeated, trying to sound unbothered. Trying but not succeeding for Mary could hear the undercurrent of pain she could not mask.

Edwina looked hopeful but Mary shook her head decisively. "I disagree. An underhanded act such as this does not speak well of Lord Bridgerton's character." She looked at her younger daughter. "You would throw over the feelings of your most beloved sister for a man you have met but twice?"

For the first time, Edwina looked less certain. "I– she has said–"

"I heard what your sister said," Mary interrupted, "but look at her. Do you not see how these thoughtless actions have hurt her?"

After a moment's hesitation, Edwina nodded. She looked appropriately chastised, so Mary returned her attention to her elder daughter. "Kate," she drew closer and put her hands on her daughter's shoulders to ensure she held her full attention, "I am sorry that Lord Bridgerton behaved as such. It is unconscionable."

It took several swallows before Kate nodded and said, "Thank you, Mama."

Day 4: "It does not matter what I want."

"You left. You. I wanted to talk! I wanted to work it out. You left, and you didn't seem to want to come back, so I let you go. Why are you being such a jackass? I gave you what you wanted!"

"You think this is what I wanted? I asked you for time but no. Impatient Kate always has to have it her way–"

"Over. The. Line." She took a long deep breath through her nose. "Anthony. I was not about to wait around for a guy who didn't love me to maybe come home."

He recoiled visibly. "What?"

"We were literally a lusty cliche, getting married while shitfaced in Vegas. I get that you didn't want the annulment scandal, and, honestly, I thought I'd be okay with your whole deal, but I'm not like you. I can't compartmentalize and act like I love someone and not have it mean anything. All the flowers and kindness and the press eating it up one day, then cold silence and mocking looks the next. It was suffocating. And then you left when you promised you would be there. 'It can't be love but I'll always take care of you.' Remember? I felt so fucking stupid. How could I stay?"

"I came back," he argued weakly. "I came back to tell you…" He looked at her standing tall, eyebrows high on her forehead. Then he saw her lip wobble ever so slightly– a chink in her armor.

On instinct he stepped toward her, wrapping one hand around the back of her neck. His other hand rested on her waist, holding her gently. When their lips were a hair's breadth away, she stilled. "I need to hear you say it, Anthony. Please."

"I–" The words caught in his throat.

The silence stretched between them and Kate tensed. She stepped back. Her eyes were shining as she looked at him. "Good-bye, Anthony."

At least this time she said it to his face. Maybe that would be enough.

Day 5: Sisters

Kate was struck, not for the first time, by just how beautiful her sister had become. At fifteen she was already blossoming into womanhood. (Unlike Kate who had been cursed with spots and unruly curls.) It was becoming more evident by the day that Edwina had real potential to marry well and finally have the life she deserved.

The problem was Kate. She hadn't been able to save nearly enough for a season, even a smaller one in Bath was well out of reach. She'd pinched every farthing but the numbers always came out the same. She could barely keep them fed, clothed and housed.

As Edwina danced around happily, Kate watched with an aching heart. They had their tea and biscuits, Kate ensuring Edwina received the lion's share, but she couldn't shake her malaise.

When Edwina was clearing their dishes, Kate cleared her throat. "I've been thinking of writing to the Sheffields."

Edwina froze. "Kate, no." Her voice was an anxious plea.

"I don't like it any more than you, Edwina," she said with forced evenness, "but the estrangement would only be temporary and they have the means to–"

"I don't care." Edwina all but threw herself into Kate's arms, nestling her head against Kate's bosom. "You're my sister and I won't deny that."

Kate swallowed, trying to keep the emotion from her voice as she rubbed soothing circles on Edwina's back. "I know you love me. That won't change because you're not here."

"I won't go," she insisted, voice hitching as her skinny arms squeezed Kate tighter. "I won't go and you can't make me."

Kate could make her, technically speaking, but she knew she never would. "Okay, Winnie," she agreed, fighting her own tears at the injustice, at her own ineptitude, at Edwina's mulishness. "We'll find another way."

Edwina pulled away suddenly. "I don't need a season. I don't, Kate. I can work too and we'll be okay because we have each other."

Kate wanted to cry all over again as she brushed away Edwina's tears. "We'll see," she said in her gentlest tone. The non-agreement was Mary's preferred way of ending arguments with Kate during her teen years. Using it now with Edwina broke her heart all over again.

"Kate," Edwina's spine straightened, mouth set stubbornly, "I mean it."

"I know you do," she replied in that same tone.

Edwina huffed. "I am going to go clean my face, and then I will prepare supper and then you are going to listen to me read Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion."

"Not Hume," she pleaded but Edwina ignored her. Apparently moral philosophy would be her punishment.

Kate trudged up to her room and flopped on the bed, knowing her day dress would get wrinkled and fully unable to bring herself to care. She wasn't willing to give up on Edwina's future. 

Day 1: Midnight at the library

Anthony quite literally stumbled over her in the library. "Shit, sorry–" He realized who it was huddled in a ball. "Kate?"

"Bridgerton," she choked out. Her breathing was shallow and there were tears running down her face. It was obvious to Anthony that she was having a panic attack.

He crouched beside her, a hand reaching toward her before he froze. "Can I touch you?" He winced at how that sounded. "Nothing weird! Just– my sister Eloise found it comforting."

Eloise was the one with their father when he died of anaphylaxis almost five years earlier. She'd been five and nearly inconsolable for weeks. The panic attacks started a couple of months later and Anthony, dutiful older brother just trying to lessen his mom's burden, learned everything he could about how to support her.

Kate nodded shakily and Anthony dropped down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm in a comforting pattern. She leaned into him heavily, breathing ragged. After a moment, she spoke again, "Can you talk to me? Please?" Her voice was hesitant and so small– not right for her at all.

"I never wanted to date your sister," Anthony blurted out. In his defense, it was the first thing that came to mind. He dropped his head back against the bookshelves hard but kept talking. "You were acting so unaffected and ignoring me and I wanted–" What? Her attention? His neck and ears heated with embarrassment. "I don't know, to get a response, I guess, but I took it too far and I'm sorry.

There was a long moment between them where the only sound was her breathing. "I'm sorry too," Kate admitted, voice still quiet but stronger. "I know I overreacted. You're not even Eddy's type."

"Please, I'm everyone's type."

"Trust me, you're not." She snuggled a little closer. "Tell me about your family."

"Well, I have seven younger siblings. My mom has an event planning business we all help with on weekends."

"What about your dad?"

"He died when I was thirteen. It was really sudden."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Mine died a couple years ago too. Cancer."

"Sucks."

"Yeah." The grief was palpable. Suffocating. Thankfully Kate broke it, "What was your dad like?"

"He was the best. He loved us all so much. He worked hard but also made time for each of us individually. I didn't mention but there's two sets of twins in the family and he would always make sure each got their own time and attention." Anthony closed his eyes. "I hate that Hyacinth, she's the youngest, never got to meet him. It's so unfair."

"It is," Kate agreed, "but at least she has the rest of you. When you never knew a parent… you don't miss them like we miss our dads. It's more like being told a story you can never truly understand. If they loved horses, you wonder if you would've done equestrian or if you might've vacationed at a dude ranch instead of the beach." It was as if she could sense the silent question Anthony didn't dare ask. "My mum died when I was three. Car accident during a storm– I was in the backseat. Mary, Eddy's mum, is my guardian now."

"I, uh… I didn't know that."

Kate shrugged a little self-consciously. "Why would you? Mary's the best, though. She's basically my mom."

Her breathing seemed to be back to normal, so Anthony untangled himself from her. "Here, let me just–" He went to the librarian desk and grabbed several tissues.

He handed them to Kate when he returned and she wiped her face. "How do I look?"

Her eyes were still red and her eyeliner was smeared but the only word that came to mind was striking and Anthony knew better than to say that. "Maybe wash your face before next period," he suggested with a lopsided smile. He offered her a hand to help her off the floor.

Kate accepted his help with a small thanks. He tried to shrug it off but she shook her head. "No, seriously– thank you. You didn't have to be so nice."

And all he could think was that it'd never occurred to him to do anything else.

Day 2: "I am a gentleman"

Lord Bridgerton was assessing her once more only this time his gaze seared her. "Some men will take regardless of what women allow." Kate froze and he immediately held his hands up in a placating movement. "It is not a threat, only a concern. A protector for you may not extend to your sister."

The stinging of tears made Kate blink quickly. "There must be a way…" She had to protect Edwina. It was the most important promise she'd ever made to herself.

"Perhaps…" Lord Bridgerton rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "a small tweak to your scheme is in order. If your protector appeared in public to be Edwina's protector, it would go a long way toward stopping the offers."

"And you believe such a man exists." He quirked an eyebrow at her just as he had in the milliner shop but this time a fission of heat raced through her. "You? You should wish to have me as a mistress?"

He smirked and that was infinitely more dangerous than his brows. "I find your dedication to your sister quite admirable," he admitted. "And your decolletage at the theater, as well."

Kate's jaw dropped open for a moment. She saw his eyes move to her mouth and licked her lips. When his gaze darkened, she did it again.

"Careful, Miss Sharma," he said, voice slightly more strained than before. "I made assurances that I only wished to speak which you are testing."

It struck her then that this man was good– or trying to be at least. Kate believed him that he would help protect Edwina because he admired her. It made her feel brave, powerful even.

Taking a step toward him, she placed a hand on his cheek. "Surely a deal such as this should be sealed with more than words, my lord."

Groaning, he let his forehead fall to hers. "You are testing me."

"No, my lord," Kate said, palming his hardness through his breeches, "I am thanking you."