"After all, this is the season the viscount intends to find a wife."

"You honestly just did that?"

He rued the day he let his mother know of his plans. It would have been better if she'd found out after the marriage contract was signed. Perhaps even after the ceremony. He could have waited until he would present her with his firstborn, really. While he thought of that blissful alternative, his mother tugged at his sleeve discreetly.

Apparently his interest in some stranger who might or might not be Lady Danbury's sponsored débutante wasn't enough for her. Unless he was surrounded by every available young lady, Violet Bridgerton would not rest. One way or another a bride was to be secured and if it happened before the next sunrise so much better for everyone. Well, except for him.

Waiting for the rider Anthony had to dance with at least one of the many young ladies who hurried to him. Dancing cards were hanging from their wrists as they stretched their arms in his direction. It was a devastating experience. None of them were compelling enough for more than a short exchange of words, few were graceful, one didn't even know the steps of the dance. He did not care how it looked, but he vanished from the floor as soon as the last note was played and walked out on the terrace to get some air. If it hadn't been for the rider, he would not return to that room.

Someone called him when the last thing he wanted was company. The promise of a drink on their treat was offered. Apparently he was considered the prize catch of the season and the rest of them would receive a respite from the marriage-minded mamas.

Anthony wished them good luck with their freedom, which would be short lived. "No one will be spared from the ridiculous and mindless game but I intend to be a winner. I want to make the best of it."

"Come now, Bridgerton. Next you will tell us that you hope even for a love match."

The expression he wore would be enough of an answer for them. "I wouldn't." His words confirmed it. In that company he would not be judged. The vast majority of men, if not all of them, did not consider love to be significant in marriage. However, Anthony's journey to that decision differed from theirs.

Love was a special condition and he knew its importance. You couldn't grow up in the Bridgerton residence and escape it. But his upbringing also served as a painful lesson. Love carried a heavy weight when those you loved would no longer be there. Anthony had been a witness to every hurtful complication of such loss. Most importantly he had survived it and from then on it was important that he would be safe from any of it.

As all best laid plans, of course, it had changed.

It was the rider who brought the change. He had searched for someone who would not excite him, but would otherwise be perfect as a viscountess. Unfortunately every young lady that fit the first part lacked in everything else. He found no one suitable to spend an afternoon with let alone a whole lifetime, so when the rider appeared she was like a spring in the middle of the desert. From their brief encounter he could tell she was intelligent, strong and decisive. It was a promising start. Her very presence in the park was a sign of a rather wild nature that was uncommon in most young ladies but she would eventually conform to the society's rules. They all did. He did.

And he could not deny that her unconventional behavior made her even more desirable. There was no way around it. It just did. It surprised him that his desire for her did not scare him, but he guessed that the disappointment he had endured in his search for a bride made him a lot more open to the idea that a life without love did not necessarily mean that he should be deprived of any joy.

As long as he was careful. And he would be.

That unexpected seed would not evolve into something out of his control. He would prune it into the shape he wanted like a good gardener. Years of desiring other women without falling in love with any of them made him feel confident that with caution he could manage to have his precious balance. Once everything would be settled between them he would have a wife and his life would be right. That was the word. "I do not want a love match. I want the right match."

"What is this talk of right and wrong, Bridgerton? Simply pick the least objectionable and get her wed, bed, and bred. Isn't that all that there is to it?" one of them asked.

"It is our duty gentlemen. We cannot be reckless with it."

"Duty will burden you either way. Make the choice, man and then you can return to more pleasurable pursuits. And more pleasurable partners," the other finished the dreadful thought.

"That is not an option for me." Anthony took pride in the fact that even if he had made the choice to not have a marriage based on love he would never dishonor his wife in that manner.

"So the search continues. But tell me, is one lady really unlike any other?"

The man was not entirely wrong. A few minutes in the ballroom would attest to that. "Most of them, no. One however is. One who-"

"Ah yes. The list. A pleasing face," the other started saying. "Acceptable wit, genteel manners enough to credit a viscountess. Were not those the words you mentioned the other night at the club? Is that so hard to find, then? I weep for us if that is the case."

"It should not have been so hard to find and yet…" Anthony said. With the exception of her the rest of the débutantes were desperate solutions.

"Perhaps the Queen will finally name a diamond. Save you some trouble."

"At least, of choosing her. Wooing the piece will be a different story, indeed."

The thought that the rider would be the Queen's choice that year made him smile. She should be. No one could rival her. "I shall have no problem there."

The gentlemen quickly decided to visit the smoking room, giving him a chance to separate himself from their mindless conversation.

A soft rustling caught his attention.

"Is someone there?" He moved in the direction of the noise. It could have been a stray cat but his instinct told him that someone had been overhearing a private conversation and now they were attempting to escape unnoticed. Unbelievable. "I can hear y...You."

The face he had been anxiously waiting to see, was right there before him. She looked a little different, though. As passionate and as breathtaking as he remembered her but more edgy, more austere. Still radiant, but something was missing; the air of freedom she had at the park.

Her eyes were fixed on him, waiting. For what he could not fathom but he noticed that any attempt to leave had stopped.

"I never got your name." A mistake he would not repeat. "I was wondering if we'd meet again."

"Now, you shall wonder no more." A sparkle in her eyes reminded him a little more of the woman he had met the other day.

"I am glad-"

"Is that so?" She asked, managing a fine balance between surprise and anger. "You shouldn't be. Goodnight, my lord."

She tried to walk past him and he nearly grabbed her arm to stop her. Thankfully his words were just as effective. "Now why would you say that?" On the other hand his tone must have been bold enough to make her surprise disappear. Flushed with anger, she took one step closer.

"My wit is way above the average, to avoid being called vain I will not comment on my beauty. My manners when I am not provoked are genteel enough, but not one person of my acquaintance would ever describe me as a piece to be easily wooed."

Anthony never believed he had excessively sinned in the ways of pride, but conjuring shame and humility in that moment was impossible because he never managed to suffer judgment in that manner. "Were you eavesdropping? Is this a habit of yours, lurking in the shadows?"

The risk of finding herself in a compromising position was high and yet she stood there challenging him. A smile appeared on her lips but it did not reach her eyes that were luminous as if on fire. The disarming quality of a dangerous woman.

"It is not without its uses, my lord. One can learn many interesting things that are not openly shared in a well-lit ballroom."

"Or it may unnecessarily throw shade on a conversation." He too took a step closer and her scent almost threw him off balance. He had been slightly more prepared and recovered quickly. "Has it occurred to you that none of what was said was meant for you?" In a sense it had been but to explain that would be rather difficult.

"Me? Why? Do you esteem me so high above the other silly girls in that room, stuffed in uncomfortable, yet fashionable contraptions, with thousand hairpins needling into their skulls while they are forced to smile pleasantly at every moronic comment that men fooled themselves to believe was brilliant, all the while trying to avoid their groping hands?"

"You were not exaggerating about your wit."

"I see you credit me with honesty." She visibly fought to hide a look of satisfaction at his complimentary remark. It pleased him. "Good, then you will not find it challenging to accept that I mean it when I tell you; this is goodnight, my lord."

It was the second time she threatened to leave. There was something inside him warning him that if he chose to stay in her vicinity he'd soon need to refresh his best defense tactics from his sword training. But weeks of hearing inane responses that numbed his brain made him thirsty for such good banter. And if he'd honest with himself he was thirsty for all she had to offer. Sharp tongue and all.

He would not let her vanish. But first he would make her admit that she wasn't as disinterested as she appeared; anger was not her only motivation.

"I will find someone to introduce us," he stated and watched her lips parting in astonishment. "And we will finish this lively conversation on the dancefloor. I suspect that your wry comments will be superbly magnified by music."

"A debate on your list of requirements accompanied by a violin quartet?" She laughed for the first time and his not so dormant desire woke again. "We could make it public. The master of ceremonies would be thrilled!"

For a second he really believed she would bring that private knowledge to everyone's attention and he did not doubt that she would make it sound as horrible as she thought it was. But he did not understand why that was. What he wanted was perfectly right.

"You imagine that you have successfully identified a failing in my list?"

"Do you not consider the absence of consideration of a lady's say on the matter of marriage, a failing?"

"What makes you such an expert on marriage?"

"Nothing really, but I suspect that any requirements for the prize of your suit is asking too much."

"Is that so? It seems we can debate many things. The good sense of riding in the park at the break of dawn without a proper chaperone for example."

"And following a woman with the pretense of concern too?"

"I see we understand each other."

"I see that this evening you had more drinks than you can handle, my lord. It has clouded your already flawed judgment."

"You left that room for the same reason I did. You were bored. But you enjoy this." He gestured at the space between them. The small gap that was filled with unspoken desire and tension. "We cannot spend the night on this terrace, but we can enjoy a dance."

"You will never know what I enjoy, Lord Bridgerton."

She did not focus on the matter of the dance. Anthony knew she could always cheat him out of a pleasant dance if he managed to force her hand, and he would at the first chance, but she could not, under no circumstances, allow him to think that she was indeed as thrilled as he was about their second encounter. Which meant that she was.

"It is not fair for you to know my name while I am in the dark about yours. Can we not continue this after I we will be introduced?"

"Say you have my name, what will you do with it when I will not be answering?"

Anthony had a few ways in mind to make her answer with his own name and his face broke into a smile at the thought of her breathlessly crying his name at her climax.

"Are the young ladies of London truly so easily won by a pleasing smile and absolutely nothing more?"

"So, you find my smile pleasing."

"I find your opinion of yourself entirely too high. Your character is as deficient as your horsemanship. I bid you goodnight."

With that she left. And for the second time he was left watching her go.

…

Kate did not know that she had reached the refreshment stand until she nearly slipped on spilled lemonade.

"Are you well, Miss Sharma?" It was the quiet voice of Mr Dorset. She turned to look at him. He looked dashing in his tailcoat. A sweet and unassuming smile, a gentle look. Dashing and harmless.

When she realized that she had yet to answer him, she said it all at once. She apologized for any concern and informed him of the spilled lemonade on the floor. A headache was the usual trick so she used that as well. If she appeared as a weak young lady prone to fainting at the slightest change in the room temperature, proving the supposed frailty of the female constitution, so be it.

Her mama found her and it was clear that she waited for Mr Dorset to leave in order to question Kate on her earlier whereabouts. That would have been unfortunate because Kate had not had sufficient time to come up with a good excuse. An invitation to the dance floor, of all unimaginable annoyances, would give her some time away from her mama's interrogation, but Thomas Dorset did not seem ready for it, not without encouragement. Kate kept looking at the couples that were twirling on their left and even managed a small longing sigh. It worked for Mr Dorset who immediately asked her for the set that was about to begin. Her mama saw through the ruse but smiled until Mr Dorset could no longer see her.

Delayed responses became the rule of her conduct that evening, but her partner did not seem to mind. It wasn't that she thought him dull. The contrary. Mr Dorset was, as she had told Lady Danbury, a fine young man. The problem was that her mind was returning to the incorrigible man who plagued her life from her first day in England.

Much earlier when Lord Bridgerton had walked in with his mother and two other members of his family, her heart betrayed her. Very annoyingly it recognised the stimulation and responded accordingly. His reaction when his mother announced to the entire room that he was in search of a wife had been amusing. The sense of a matron's steadfast pursuit to arrange a marriage was familiar so she sympathized with him.

She had watched him dutifully suffer the inflicted attention and when it led to the dancefloor she could not but compare him to the man she had met in the park. The handsome features were the same. Classic and strong. Irresistible. But the expression he wore was different. That morning even when he was not smiling he looked animated, but at the dancefloor he looked as though he was counting the seconds until he would be released.

Lady Danbury had beckoned her closer and the sight of a gentleman next to her meant that Kate had to disappear.

After listening to that conversation she wished she had remained inside to dance with whomever Lady Danbury had chosen for her until her toes would bleed.

She had no plans to start an acquaintance with him. Watching him from afar would be entertaining and safe. But Kate, being who she was, would not remain unaffected by hearing that derogatory manifesto on women and marriage. The specific requirements of a wife extended no further than bearing children and completing the family portrait as quietly and as properly as possible. No love, no meaningful feeling, no shared life. That man could have everything one might want in life and yet he would just throw it away as though what? It did not matter? Kate could have understood not falling in love easily. It was a folly to do so, but to actively avoid it?

He did offer this transaction with a lot more charm than the widower she had met on the ship, but the result would be the same. A mediocre life decorated with tiaras and long stemmed roses. Were all men like that? They would get a wife as if they were acquiring a horse? Perhaps a horse would be appreciated as an asset, in a way a wife wouldn't.

Kate knew she would be safe. She would never assume the role of a wife, but Edwina would. How could Kate keep her safe from such men? From men like him?

Just the thought of him so ready to defend himself would make her blood boil. How she could not just turn around and leave him, enraged her more. It had taken three times telling him goodnight for her to actually tear herself away from his gaze. She spoke her piece and left him, but not without experiencing the annoying realization that a part of her wanted him to follow her or at least call her. Then again she would not allow him to learn her name.

There was a sour taste of a loss in her mouth. But what was it she had lost without knowing she had?

Hope. And not just for Edwina. For herself too.

She exhaled emphatically and Mr Dorset apologized for suggesting escorting her to the races if she did not like horses. Returning back to the present, she felt embarrassed. The incident on the terrace had to be left behind her, but she could not keep her mind away from it. She was dancing and failing at conversation with Mr Dorset while thinking of the impossibility of another man. All of that on a night she should have been focused on Edwina. What a disappointment she had become.

"I do love horses, Mr Dorset. Of course I would be delighted to attend the race with you, but I must-"

"Your sister is a priority. I know this, Miss Sharma. I have no intention of changing your plans. Just share them."

"Well then. I look forward to it."

"Marvelous."

The music faded in the background as she spotted her sister speaking with a gentleman. She asked Mr Dorset to excuse her because she needed to find her sister, and he let her go with the promise that he would visit her. Kate did not want to think of that or the Races where she apparently agreed to go with him.

Edwina mattered the most. Edwina and her prospects. The man who was interested in her sister was Lord Lumley. A kind and well mannered man with a sweet countenance. Her mama seemed pleased and limited her worried looks towards Kate at the low number of two.

Lady Danbury whispered to Kate that more gentlemen asked Edwina for a dance.

"I am certain that we will have many callers for your sister tomorrow. Smile, Miss Sharma. This is a success."

Kate did smile. "I am glad, my lady."

"I daresay, I expect Mr Dorset's calling card to be on the pile too."

Kate followed Lady Danbury's look and saw the gentleman across the room. He smiled eagerly as though he had been expecting her to look at him. She had hoped that Mr Dorset would be a distraction, but evidently he wasn't enough. To be exact Lord Bridgerton left no room for distractions of any kind. And that was bad.

…

Benedict caught him before he re-entered the ballroom. "What took you so long? Fife said that you were meeting them in the smoking room."

Anthony was not ready to share what had happened on the terrace with no one. Not even Benedict. "Where's Eloise?"

"Somewhere in the garden with Penelope, I believe."

"You believe?" Anthony replied and walked in the direction Benedict had pointed at. Behind him, he heard his brother, dragging his feet reluctantly. "You need to be more careful. Eloise debuted this year. Her behavior is being watched."

"Were you doing a much better job with Daphne last year?"

That was debatable. But no matter what Anthony did or did not do, Daphne knew how to play the game. She married a duke and might have married a Prince. Eloise did not even want to participate and any suitor would be unwelcome.

"Besides, you are the head of the family. The guardian," Benedict went on. "I am merely an older brother."

"There is no mere to being a brother, Benedict. And no, you are not a guardian. You are more of an escape strategist where Eloise is concerned. And that is the problem."

Eloise and the Featherington girl were lying on the grass stargazing. "Get up, El," Anthony called. Miss Penelope rose to her feet and tried to remove dry leaves from the skirt of her gown. Eloise remained on her back.

"What sort of an answer is this?" Eloise asked pointing at him and Benedict.

"You asked something, sister?" Benedict asked her, pulling her upright.

"A miracle, brother."

Anthony had no time for that. "Get them inside and do not lose her again."

"I want to go home."

"Even better." Anthony agreed. "Send the carriage back for mother. Miss Penelope." Anthony bowed and left.

He had a more pressing matter to attend to. Inside the conservatory he searched for his still elusive woman. True to her word she was not easily wooed, but he was not ready to give up. Locating her was fruitless until his mother walked to his side. She pointed at Lady Danbury and the three women in her company. "There is Lady Mary Sharma and her two daughters. Miss Sharma and Miss Edwina."

A gentleman was already with them. Anthony tried to remember his name but couldn't be certain he even knew it. What he was certain of was the mesmerized look on the man's face that never strayed from the youngest Sharma, while he avoided Miss Sharma's scrutinizing look at any cost. No competition there, Anthony thought, even if it had been a poor one.

"Is either of the Sharma girls the one you spoke of?"

"Yes, mother." With all the complications of an ancient greek tragedy.

"The youngest? Miss Edwina?"

"No, mother."

"Miss Sharma, then." She smiled, pleased. That was a good sign. "I did not have the pleasure of meeting her. She was occupied when I approached their group."

Anthony knew exactly where she had been and with what she had been occupied, but he would not share it with his mother.

"Her name?"

"Kathani. Miss Kathani Sharma."

Kathani. It suited her. There was something about it that matched his own name.

"It is af I met her, though. Her family does not tire of praising her. Especially Miss Edwina. It was all Kate this and Kate that-"

"Kate?"

"The name used by her family."

Kate. He liked that too.

"Devoted sister and daughter. In the absence of a father or a brother or any male relative she is the one managing everything for them and she is doing a fine job at that. The whole family is busy with securing a good match for Miss Edwina. It is of utmost importance to Miss Sharma that Miss Edwina marries well and rumor has it that the young girl depends on her sister's opinion greatly for her decision."

Family duty was the one thing he understood better than anyone and when Miss Sharma, Kate, would find out that he was the same way she would see that they would be great together. He would give her some time to recover from their conversation and he would make a fresh start with her on the morrow. For the moment he was satisfied with knowing which door he had to knock to find her.

"There is however something else," his mother said. "Apparently only the young sister is joining the marriage mart."

"Not Miss Sharma?" Why on Earth was that?

"Lady Danbury told me in confidence that Miss Sharma doesn't wish to marry. Something with which both Lady Danbury and Lady Mary disagree and they will try to change her mind. They believe that the London Season is the ideal environment. What do you think, Anthony? Do you plan to help the ladies?"

To watch that woman change her mind on anything would be something. To be the one to change her mind would be even better.

"Yes, mother, I believe I do."