2

Featherington House

London residence of the Baron Featherington

One week earlier

After the Queen had taken her leave of the Featherington Ball and the last of the errant fireworks were quite finished—Kate was certain she had heard Anthony angrily muttering "Colin!" as he stalked out of the drawing room amidst the last round of intermittent, jarring explosions from the back garden—the Sharmas and Lady Danbury ventured out into the front hall to quietly await the arrival of the Danbury carriage. Quietly, because drawing the attention of the sharp-eyed, gossip-mongering Lady Featherington was the last thing anyone in their little party wished.

Following Anthony, Lady Bridgerton had gone off to round up her brood. Kate had wanted to see him one last time this evening, but of course that was a foolish desire. No one would have permitted them a moment's privacy and she had no wish to merely stand politely beside him under everyone's watchful eye. Not now, not after all he had said to her.

I will humble myself before you, because I cannot imagine my life without you.

I love you.

If she had thought her attraction to him before was unbearable, she could only laugh at herself now, when she couldn't properly focus on whatever the Queen of England had been saying because he was merely in the same room. And if Kate allowed him to catch her eye—no. He was utterly impossible. She was not going to leap upon him, wrap her legs around his waist, and wipe that smirk off his face. She was not. No.

Damn him! The Queen was sitting right there!

So Kate had tossed her head, looked away, and pretended that whatever the Queen was saying was utterly fascinating.

The Queen's commands had been, at the very least, a distinct relief. Kate and Anthony wouldn't have to wait three weeks for the banns to be read.

But that was when more fireworks started going off unexpectedly outside, accompanied by a few startled screams and a chorus of young male whoops of laughter. The Queen's secretary had urged a prudent exit and the royal audience had come to an abrupt end.

Marry within the week, Lord Bridgerton. I wish to hear no more of this nonsense. And the Queen and her entourage had swept out of the room.

So Kate now stood at the bottom of the steps outside Featherington House, comfortable in the pleasantly cool evening air, waiting with Edwina, Mary, and Lady Danbury as the carriage pulled up. Kate glanced back one last time, but Anthony was nowhere to be seen.

Soon, my love. Kate smiled and climbed up into the carriage.

As they rolled down the drive, the four women began the journey in silence. Lady Danbury sat beside Lady Mary, and Edwina sat beside Kate, who really was having the most difficult time keeping the corners of her mouth from curving upward. She looked out the window. They were barely a half-mile from Danbury House; the ride would be thankfully short, and then she could hide in her room—

"We will need to have your wedding trousseau made at once," Lady Danbury announced, and Kate looked at her in surprise.

"But you've already paid for so many gowns for me," Kate said. "Surely—"

"None of them are a suitable wedding dress."

"How can we have a suitable one made in so little time?"

Even in the dimness of the carriage, Kate could see Lady Danbury arch her eyebrow. "You plan to marry in a spinster's colours?"

"They are not—"

"I only permitted you to wear such rich shades because you were so insistent that you were no debutante."

"I am not!" Kate said.

"And yet here you are, engaged to be married."

"Oh, if only I were taller!" Edwina sighed.

Everyone stared at her.

She gave them an incredulous look. "What? Then I would be able to give Kate my wedding dress!"

"No, Bon, I could never wear your dress," Kate said kindly, touching her little sister's hand. "But thank you." They smiled at each other, a street lamp briefly casting a warm yellow light through the curtains as the carriage passed it by.

"But perhaps a borrowed dress would be just the thing," Lady Danbury said thoughtfully. "I wonder if Lady Bradbury would be about the right—"

"No," Mary said.

Everyone stilled.

"Mama?" Kate ventured, surprised.

"Kate will not marry in a borrowed dress."

Lady Danbury frowned. "Well, what do you suggest we—"

Shockingly, Mary cut her off. "I... have something," she said, looking at Kate, "of your Amma's."

Kate was surprised into silence. Then she swallowed. "More than the bangles?"

"Yes. And you shall wear it on your wedding day." Mary smiled. "I think you will like the colour."

"But... I thought we sold everything we couldn't take with us," Edwina said quietly. "To make the trip."

Mary's smile widened. "Kate meant to sell this, too, but..." Mary closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, they glistened in the light from another passing street lamp. She was looking at Kate. "Do you remember when you introduced me to your Amma?"

Lady Danbury frowned. "I thought you married a widower."

"I did," Mary said, not looking away from Kate. "When I married her Appa, my little girl told me stories about her mother. With each story, she cuddled a little closer, until she finally fell asleep in my arms. It was our first evening as a family."

Kate swallowed, pressing her lips together to keep the tears at bay, and she nodded at Mary.

"Watching you sleep, I made a promise," Mary said quietly, just above the rattle of the wheels on the cobblestones, and everyone leaned forward, the better to hear her speak. "I promised your Amma that I would take the best care of her daughter that I could. I haven't always done very well at that."

"Oh, Mama," Kate said, reaching across to clasp Mary's hand, tears welling up. "You have been the very best—I could not ask for more. I do not blame you for what happened after Appa..."

"I know," Mary whispered, then cleared her throat and said it again, more clearly. She smiled, leaning forward to clasp Kate's hands within her own. "But I also promised your Amma that I would never let you forget her. I made you keep her bangles." Kate nodded, sniffling, pressing her lips together once again.

"Kate was willing to give up everything for me," Edwina murmured to Lady Danbury, who nodded, still silent. "But we could not let her, Mama and I."

Kate sniffed and laughed. "And you kept something else back, as well? Something you hid from me?"

"Yes," Mary said, her eyes bright. "I saw it on the pile and I took it when you weren't looking. I couldn't take all of it or you would have noticed, but... I took the part your Appa had told me was passed down to your Amma, and that she had wanted passed down to you."

The carriage clattered and turned. They were nearing the front drive of Danbury House. Mary released Kate's hands and they all sat back in their seats, preparing to be handed down from the carriage.

Once inside the house, they all, by silent agreement, followed Mary up to her bedroom, where she went directly across to her trunk and knelt down before it. She began lifting items out, with Edwina assisting her, while Kate stood beside Lady Danbury and tried very hard not to let the tears simply roll down her cheeks at the sight of their eagerness and joy.

At last Mary reached the bottom of her trunk and made a little sound of satisfaction. She lifted out a wrapped bundle. The linen covering looked familiar, and Kate realised it was one of their old bedsheets, the fabric worn but still clean and quite usable. Taking the bundle, Mary stood and crossed to her bed, where she quickly began unwrapping the linen. A moment later, a rich red silk with gold trim was revealed, and Kate gasped, stepping forward to touch it.

"Amma's wedding lehenga!" Kate whispered. "You kept it!" She looked at Mary in wonder. "Why? If you knew I had no intention of finding a husband here?"

"Because I hoped," Mary replied. "I have always respected your intention to return to India, but I wished it would not be necessary. I didn't want to be separated from my daughter."

"Oh, Mama," Kate sobbed, hugging Mary, unable to stop the fresh rush of tears. "Oh...!" She stood back slightly to wipe at her eyes, and gave a watery laugh when she realised Edwina was thrusting a handkerchief at her, silently encouraging her to clean her runny nose. Kate dried her face, then held the handkerchief to her cheek as she stared at the beautiful lehenga with its understated gold embroidery, curling and curving in an artful spray of tiny flowers and an exquisite lace appliqué that encircled the waist. Edwina had finished freeing the lehenga from its wrapping and was now spreading out the silk, splaying it across the bedclothes, where it nearly glowed in the flickering candlelight. It needed a good straightening, but it was beautiful.

"Amma," Kate whispered, surprised as a sudden warmth—a familiar warmth, one she had almost forgotten—hummed silently within her. For so long, she had felt alone. But she wasn't. She had never been truly alone. The warmth settled in her and she closed her eyes. Dhanyavaad, Amma.

"It is yours, Kathani," Mary murmured, rubbing her back in soothing circles. "Wear it with pride."

"Is that all of it?" Lady Danbury asked, and they turned to look at her. "Well," the older woman said, gesturing at the lehenga with her cane, "as beautiful as it is and as happy as Lord Bridgerton would be, I am sure, to see you in it and only it..." Kate gave a weepy chuckle as the older woman spoke. "...I think it would be a step too far, even if it is the custom of your people, for you to appear at Aubrey Hall unclothed from the waist up."

Kate and her mother and sister laughed, and Mary waved Lady Danbury off with a smile.

"We will need to have a matching red bodice made," Mary agreed. "Something with just a few jewelled accents to complement the flowers, I think."

"And a dupatta! In red and gold!" Edwina exclaimed, lifting a corner of the shining red fabric and running her fingers over its softness. "Oh, Kate, when I was a little girl, I dreamed of one day seeing you as a bride! Do you remember?"

"I do, Bon," Kate said, her smile squeezing out more tears.

"A 'dupatta'?" Lady Danbury repeated, eyebrows raised in question.

"A veil," Mary said.

"Hm." Lady Danbury rested both hands on her cane. "I doubt even Madam Delacroix could produce such a veil with less than a week's notice."

"Perhaps if we adapted to English custom..." Mary murmured, releasing Kate and going over to the bed to run her fingers along an embroidered flower. She looked up at Kate. "What would you say to a white dupatta with red trim? Perhaps a red silk ribbon, sewn on with a simple flower pattern?"

Kate smiled, her throat thick. Honestly, at this point, nothing could dampen her joy. Her Amma's bangles and lehenga, Mary's and Edwina's excitement at her nuptials, the infuriating and utterly provoking man she would be marrying, who would humble himself before her...

Kate took a step back and sank into the armchair in the corner of Mary's room, finally giving in to a flood of happy tears.


Farrington Hall

Family seat of the Earl and Countess of Ashbourne

Kent

Present day

"Ohh..." Lady Danbury exclaimed softly, when Edwina let her into Kate's bedroom. Lady Danbury paused to regard the vision before her. "You are lovely indeed, Miss Sharma."

Kate met their sponsor's eyes in the mirror and smiled. "You are very kind, Lady Danbury."

"I am, aren't I?" the matron said, sailing into the room, an indulgently smiling Lady Ashbourne on her heels. "However, that is irrelevant. I suspect that even the most jealous debutante would be hard-pressed not to find something to admire in your bearing and appearance. You will be a credit to the Bridgerton family."

Beside the two older ladies, Edwina was glowing with happiness. "Do the green bangles not look perfect against her skin?"

Lady Ashbourne hummed her agreement.

"They looked fine against your skin, too," Kate said dryly, turning away from the mirror to fix her eyes on her younger sister.

"No, not nearly as fine as yours."

"Is the carriage ready?" Mary asked, glancing between Lady Danbury and Lady Ashbourne. Mary frowned as she glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. "I had not thought we were so late."

"Not quite yet," Lady Danbury replied, taking a seat and setting her cane against the nearby table. "I've come early because I have just received a pair of most interesting notes." Her sharp gaze shifted to fix on Kate. "I do so hope you can illuminate them."

"But it is a Sunday," Mary said, frowning.

"It was not the post," Lady Ashbourne explained. "They sent a boy over from Aubrey Hall. He is waiting downstairs for your reply."

"Aubrey Hall!" Kate stepped forward. "Is Anth—I mean, is everything quite all right with Lord Bridgerton?"

"He appears to be alive and well, if that is what you mean," Lady Danbury said, waving the two pieces of paper. "As to whether everything is 'quite all right', that is for you to determine."

Kate began to reach out. "May I—"

"They were addressed to me," Lady Danbury said archly. "So no, you may not."

Kate dropped her hand. In her peripheral vision, she saw both her stepmother and her sister quickly take their seats. Mary did a better job of hiding her eagerness than Edwina, who was quite definitely leaning forward in her chair, all thought of a ladylike posture forgotten.

Kate motioned with her fingers at Edwina to sit back and straighten. Edwina flashed her eyes and did so, but at once also pointed imperiously at the settee behind Kate.

Smiling, Kate took her seat and did not hurry to finish sweeping the voluminous folds of her lehenga aside or rush as she properly settled the fabric. She hid a smile when she was sure she heard a low—if prim—growl from Lady Danbury's direction.

Smoothing the silk on her thighs, Kate clasped her hands in her lap and lifted her chin to look directly at the fearsome dowager. Seated beside Lady Danbury, Lady Ashbourne seemed a bit impressed.

Lady Danbury looked rather less so, her eyes slightly narrowed and her lips pursed. "If you are quite finished."

"Yes, my lady," Kate said, keeping her expression still but allowing a bit of fire into her gaze.

Lady Danbury's lips pulled ever so slightly into a look of amusement for a moment. Then she nodded and opened the two notes with great ceremony. Everyone else in the room seemed to hold their breath.

"The first, from Lord Bridgerton, intended for Miss Sharma—" At Kate's twitch, Lady Danbury's eyes flashed. "—although not addressed to her, reads: 'Please tell Miss Sharma that I shall not hold her to her wedding vows.'"

"What?" barked Mary, quite thoroughly a Lady herself. "Whatever can he mean by that?"

"Well, he is a well-known, notorious rake," Edwina said, her eyes alight with a wickedness that had Kate staring at her, mouth agape. "Perhaps he is freeing you from your obligations so that you might agree to free him from his."

"Heaven forfend!" Mary exclaimed. "Hush, you."

"That cannot be what he meant," Kate said, shooting Lady Danbury a furious look.

The older woman held her gaze for a long moment, until Kate started to be just the tiniest bit unsure—

"I quite agree," Lady Danbury said, her expression telling Kate that she knew exactly what she was about. Kate narrowed her eyes for a heartbeat and Lady Danbury let out an amused hmph.

Kate relaxed, but only by an inch. "What is in the second note?"

Lady Danbury nodded, switching which piece of paper was on top. "The second note, possibly a bit more useful than Lord Bridgerton's... missive, is from Lady Bridgerton. She said that Lord Bridgerton is quite concerned that you might not be familiar with the exact text of the Solemnization of Marriage in the Book of Common Prayer. Is this, in actual fact, the case?"

"Why does it matter?" Mary murmured.

Kate arched one eyebrow, not looking away from Lady Danbury. "I have not memorised it, if that is what he means. I was under the impression that the parson reads the words aloud and we have only to repeat after him."

"He does," Lady Ashbourne said, just barely leaning toward the notes in Lady Danbury's hands, as if she might steal a glance at their contents.

Lady Danbury paid her no heed, still focused on Kate. "You do not need to memorise them. But are you familiar with them?"

"I'm sure I've glanced over them at least once, at some point," Kate said. "Why? What might be the problem?"

Lady Danbury looked down at the note. "Lady Bridgerton says that he was quite insistent that you know he does not..." Lady Danbury frowned and squinted, bringing the paper closer, then setting it farther away again. "...expect you to... take orders from him?"

"How extraordinary," Lady Ashbourne murmured.

"Are you quite sure you read that correctly?" Mary asked, frowning.

Kate smiled and looked down at her hands. "She did."

"What does he mean by this?" Edwina asked. "Do not all men expect their wives to obey them?"

"Ah," Lady Danbury said, something finally clicking into place behind her eyes. "I see."

"Someone, please, enlighten me," Mary said.

"Ohhh..." Lady Ashbourne's eyes widened. "How extraordinary." She shot Lady Danbury a look that bordered on the scandalised. "Do you suppose the parson means to change the words?"

"Certainly not," Lady Danbury said, giving Lady Ashbourne a dismissive glance.

Edwina was frowning in concentration. "I do not—"

"Oh!" Mary sprang up from her chair, making Kate jump, and quickly joined Kate on the settee. Mary's eyes were filling with tears as she rested her hands on Kate's arm and shoulder. "Oh, my dear. I could not be happier for you."

"Will someone please—" Edwina began.

"The vows are not the same," Kate said calmly. "I will be required to vow that I shall obey him, but he is not required to vow anything of the kind to me." She met Mary's gaze. "Is that not the case, Mama?"

Lady Danbury cleared her throat, waving the notes to regain everyone's attention. "Quite. Lady Bridgerton thus goes on to say that the viscount is most anxious to be reassured that you will not leave him at the altar."

Kate laughed. "I will not."

Everyone visibly relaxed.

"I shall send word back with the boy," Lady Ashbourne said, rising and making for the door.

"Lady Ashbourne," Kate said, quickly standing to her feet. "Thank you. Please convey the message in all seriousness, as I do not wish for Lord Bridgerton to know that I laughed."

"Yet," Lady Danbury muttered.

"Yes." Kate glanced at her with a chuckle. "I promise it will not be long before I tell him myself."

Lady Danbury's shoulders shook in brief, silent amusement. "Good girl. Now, go finish getting ready." The dowager grasped her cane and stood. "I shall see that all the final preparations are made downstairs. We have a wedding to attend."

"That we do," Mary said, smiling and standing up. "We will meet you downstairs shortly."

With a final nod, Lady Danbury strode out the door.

The three Sharma women stood staring after her. Then Edwina said:

"Does the viscount really not mean to make you obey him, Didi?"

"As if he could," Kate said, sailing back to the vanity and sitting down on it with an efficient sweep of her skirts.

"Kate," Mary said warningly.

Kate met her stepmother's eyes in the mirror, then reached for the borrowed earrings that had been selected for her. "Do you truly think I would have agreed to marry that man if he hadn't agreed to my terms?"

Edwina giggled. "Oh, you are a devil!"

"I don't see anything particularly devilish in asking a man to treat me as his equal, not if he expects me to be his partner in life."

Mary just stood shaking her head, although Kate could not tell if it was with respect or disapproval.

Her stepmother moved to stand beside her, adjusting one of the earrings slightly after Kate put it in. Mary stroked Kate's temple and brushed a curl aside before smiling at her quite warmly. "I could not be prouder of you, my darling."

Kate blinked back a rush of warmth for this highborn woman who had taken her in—a mere orphan, a child of two commoners, of no consequence to the British aristocracy—and treated her as her own daughter. "Nor I, you."

"Oh!" Mary swooped in to give her a hug, and Edwina joined them.

Kate held their forearms, regarding the three smiling faces in the mirror before her. "I love you both so much. I do not wish to leave you!"

Both her younger sister and her stepmother straightened beside her, their eyes meeting, and then Edwina began fixing Kate's curls on one side while Mary worked on the other. They smoothed her locks, straightened the edges of her bodice's lace, and added a few pins to her elaborate braids. Finally, they lifted the loose end of the dupatta over her head. The other end of the long veil had been carefully pleated and tucked into her waistband at the front of her hip, then loosely draped down low across the front of her lehenga before being lifted around to the back of her torso. Until they'd put the finishing touches on her hair, they had left the loose end of the dupatta comfortably draped over her shoulder, but now Mary and Edwina lifted and adjusted it as a headdress, and then Mary carefully pinned the red trim of the veil to Kate's hair. Edwina spread the folds of gauzy white fabric until it floated about Kate's head.

"Times and seasons," Mary said finally, softly, standing back to inspect their handiwork. She met Kate's gaze in the mirror. "This season of the three of us making our way through the world alone—yes, it is ending. But that does not mean that what comes next will not have its own unique joys."

"We shall not be strangers, Kate," Edwina said. "After all, Danbury House and Bridgerton House are off the same street!"

A fact Kate well knew, given how she'd run in the pre-dawn shadows from the Bridgerton House gardens through each of the small parks of the neighbouring houses, until she could finally slip in through the back servants' door of Danbury House and escape, hopefully unseen, up to her room, after her stolen night spent with Anthony, when all seemed lost.

"It will just be a few months," Mary agreed. "Then you'll return from your honeymoon tour and we'll all be back in town for the next Season, and there will be balls and concerts aplenty."

"But it won't be the same," Kate said. "It will never be the same again." Her voice caught on the last words as she reached for her mother's and sister's hands, trying mightily not to cry. She did not succeed.

The other two women sat down on either side of her, facing away from the mirror, and they all clung to one another for a long moment. More than one of them hiccupped a bit, and wiped at their face.

"I want to get all my crying out now," Edwina finally declared, drying her tears and straightening. "Otherwise, I'm sure I'll be in floods at the wedding."

"Me, too," Mary said, and they all laughed a little.

"I'm sorry," Kate whispered, her eyes fixed on Edwina.

"You and the viscount really are beautiful together, Didi," Edwina said quietly. "Don't apologise for finding someone you love."

Kate smiled through her tears and squeezed her sister's hand. "I love you, Bon."

"I love you, too."

They heard the rhythmic sound of hoofbeats and the clatter of wheels pulling up on the drive outside.

"All right now," Edwina said, getting up to fetch a kerchief. "You don't want to be walking across the grass with those red eyes."

Exhaling a soft laugh, Kate accepted the kerchief and dried her face.

"Somehow," Mary said wisely, "I doubt the viscount would mind very much at all."

Kate exhaled another chuckle and nodded. "I'd not be half surprised if he turned on the waterworks himself."

"Didi!" Edwina exclaimed, as the three women found themselves in another fit of giggles.

"Well, he is rather extraordinary," Lady Danbury said, from her place by the door, causing them all to look up. There was an unmistakable warmth in her eyes. "I shouldn't be surprised at all." She narrowed her eyes at Kate. "Just do try not to maim the poor fellow when you tell him you'll obey him, Miss Sharma."

Kate turned from the vanity and stood, drawing herself up to her full height. Looking down at Lady Danbury, Kate said sweetly, "My apologies, my lady, but I can make no such guarantees."

Lady Danbury waved her cane threateningly, but the whole effect was rather undermined by her throwing her head back and laughing.