Chapter 4
In Which There Is (Some) Schmoozing

Contrary to popular belief, Kate was not so much of a nerd that she actually enjoyed being at school.

I mean, she did- there were classes and friends and a really excellent cafeteria with heated towels-

No, as in physically at school.

At 6 PM on a Friday evening.

Nevertheless, here she was, wearing her second-best dress she usually reserved for internships, ready to make her rounds at Grosvenor's annual alumni reception. It was a chance for the moneyed and the influential to socialize and reminisce about their glory days all while donating the vast contents of their pocketbook for the benefit of the school.

Scholarship kids like Kate were usually trotted out, presumably to wow the distinguished alumni with their knowledge of microlending in Sub-Saharan Africa or Bolivian salt flats or whatever. After all, the school had to justify the ridiculous amounts of money they routinely conned alumni out of, and that was not possible if you had, say, Nigel Berbrooke out there mingling with the guests.

This was also Edwina's first time on display as a scholarship student, and Kate wasn't sure if the administration had chosen her because of her stellar grades, or because needed they a conveniently drop-dead gorgeous girl out there schmoozing on their behalves.

Needless to say, Kate had her suspicions.

"Sharma!" Anthony Bridgerton's voice called from behind them.

Why, she internally groaned, was she doomed to run into the bane of her existence even here? Wasn't bothering her during school hours enough for him?

She didn't bother to hide her displeased expression before turning. "Hello," she said perfunctorily. Anthony was wearing a button-down and chinos, which wasn't too different from his school apparel, except his sleeves just happened to be rolled up enough so that they showcased his forearms rather nicely (not that Kate noticed).

"Anthony, hi!" Edwina waved from next to Kate, far more enthusiastic than she had been.

"Hey," Anthony replied to her, his expression softening. "You look great."

Edwina did look fantastic in her bohemian-chic sundress, which also made Kate feel rather buttoned-up and stiff in comparison.

Edwina beamed. "Thank you! We weren't really told anything except to look good and show up. What are we supposed to like, do here?" she asked Anthony earnestly.

"Just talk I guess- I can introduce you to a few people if you'd like?" he offered.

"That would be so great!" Edwina trilled. "Come on, Kate!" She tugged at Kate's hand before trotting after Anthony.

To his credit, Anthony introduced them to some pretty interesting people, staying clear of the frat-bro, hedge fund-types clearly for their benefit.

When Edwina was drawn into a riveting conversation with the founder of a mental health-centric start-up, Kate turned to Anthony.

"What are you doing here?" Kate muttered to Anthony. "You're not a scholarship kid."

"No, but my mother is on the Board of Trustees and I'm the sixth generation to come here," Anthony recited in a suspiciously rote fashion. At Kate's raised brow, he added reluctantly, "I also drew the short straw and Mom forced me to come with her."

Kate couldn't help but laugh at that. Even Anthony Bridgerton's misfortunes were elitist.

"But since I have you here," Anthony continued, "we need to talk about our project."

"Do we?" Kate asked. "I'm still not sure I forgive you for making me your partner without asking me."

"Come on, you know we'll get the highest grade in the class," he said with lazy arrogance and a smirk to match.

Ugh, he was not wrong. Kate hated when Anthony successfully stoked her ego while also managed to bolster his own.

"Fine," Kate allowed. "What book are we doing?"

"You know Rothwell likes her classics, maybe Pride and Prejudice?"

"That would look like we're trying to suck-up," she pointed out. "And it's too cliche."

Anthony snorted. "Yeah right, you're totally the type of person who fangirls every time Colin Firth shows up in that wet shirt- and don't lie."

Kate raised a brow. "And you know this how…?"

"My sister Eloise is also one of them," he said, and added after a beat, "and my mom." He shuddered.

"Okay fine, maybe I am," Kate permitted, "but we need to do analysis, and Pride and Prejudice isn't really… the best." She added a little fiercely, "And I do not want our project to devolve into something stupid like "Is Lydia Bennet actually a feminist?" which, spoiler alert, she is not."

"Of course you'd have opinions on that," Anthony said with something akin to fondness.

"So many," she agreed. "What about Jane Eyre?"

Anthony groaned. "Jesus, that book makes me want to set myself on fire."

"Ha ha, you nerd," Kate deadpanned. "But there's a lot we can do with it. We can analyze it through the lens of feminism or maybe race- if you're good with that," she added challengingly.

"I am absolutely good with that," he returned smoothly.

"Okay then," Kate said, surprised they had come to a detente this fast.

Just then-

"Anthony Bridgerton, is that you?" A low, raspy voice called out. Anthony seemed to recognize it immediately, and stood at attention like a military cadet about to be inspected before he turned around.

For a moment, all Kate heard was the sound of stilettos clacking purposefully towards them, but then-

Kate gasped.

"Aunt Agatha," Anthony greeted the middle-aged Black woman clad in a rather fabulous fuchsia pantsuit, and allowed himself to be patted on the cheek.

"I was wondering if I'd see you here," Lady Danbury told him.

"For you, it was definitely a matter of when not if," Anthony grinned.

"Cheeky," Lady Danbury admonished before turning to Kate.

"And who is this?" she asked imperiously.

"Uh, I'm Kate Sharma," Kate squeaked. For one wild moment, she contemplated curtsying, except that would be weird, right?

"So this is the infamous Kate Sharma," Lady Danbury said, eying her appraisingly.

"What did you tell her?" Kate rounded on Anthony, who immediately raised his hands in an I surrender motion.

"I don't even remember the last time you were brought up," he said defensively.

"There were times?" Kate shrilled, horribly flustered.

Lady Danbury cackled at the chaos unfolding before she finally stepped in.

"The last time I heard your name," Lady Danbury told Kate, "it was when a fifteen year-old boy ran to my office one day after school, and ranted to me, out of breath, how desperate he was to get the highest grade in his year because a certain Miss Sharma kept beating him by half a percent in tests."

"Freshman year," Kate supplied, remembering vividly now she'd accosted him in the hallway for using his connections to get the grade. "You gave that talk to seniors."

(Which she was still not over, by the way).

"He practically begged me to," Lady Danbury smirked. "In return, he was my unpaid assistant the entire summer."

"Which I regretted every moment of," Anthony said dramatically.

"I made sure of it," Lady Danbury said smugly. "Assistant would be too kind a word, really-"

"-Oh shit," Kate muttered suddenly.

"Pardon?" Lady Danbury asked, confused.

Kate was looking across the room where Edwina looked to be in conversation with an older man with slicked-back blonde hair. Except Edwina seemed physically uncomfortable as the man kept leaning in and leering more than just looking. Edwina's gaze darted around the swankily-decorated room and her face took on an almost resigned expression.

Kate's chest physically ached.

Anthony caught on almost immediately, his gaze travelling to where Kate was looking.

"Fucking Ashton," Anthony groaned, apparently recognizing the man. Before Kate knew what was happening, she and Anthony were both moving quickly towards Edwina.

Anthony reached them first, just as the man caressed a lock of Edwina's curly hair, and Edwina attempted to shrink back.

"What's going on here?" Anthony asked, just as Kate caught up.

The man, Ashton, sized Anthony up before deigning to answer with an insolent, "hey man, this your girl?"

"That's not the point," Anthony said, loudly irritated. "What-"

"-Woah, calm down," the man interrupted with a sleazy grin. "I was just asking your girl where she was from, with curls like these-"

"And I told you," Edwina snapped, "it was Hounslow-"

The man huffed, frustrated. "-That's not what I-"

"-We know what you meant," Kate interrupted coldly, having just about heard enough, "except she does not have to answer if she doesn't want to." Kate took Edwina's hand in her own. "Come on," she told her.

"Thanks," Edwina said in a small voice once they were a safe distance away. "Both of you."

"Of course," Kate told her just as Anthony said with a pained expression, "I'm sorry."

Edwina just sighed and patted Anthony's hand. "It could have been worse," is all she said.

Don't be an Ashton. I've had a lot to reflect about this last week, and that's all I can really say. Just don't.

Anyway, anyone get that "Indian Matchmaker" reference?

As always, check out my tumblr hptriviachamp