"A mistake."
Such an ambiguous response.
What did the viscount expect she would infer from that? That he got fashionably delayed because he forgot to check the time on his pocket watch which was an almost indistinguishable extension of his arm? Only an imbecile would believe something innocent was behind that look of horror on his face upon hearing the words coming out of his brother's mouth. What she had done to earn that lie by omission, Kate did not know but the insult would only get worse.
Extensive questions on the burning matter of whether Miss Francesca would visit an aunt or not, the duration of the visit and the size of coach she would be comfortable with for the journey there followed. Once that charade ended to the viscount's satisfaction his sister seemed eager to enjoy her dessert and he had to do the same. The period of time he could spend staring at the plate before him was very limited and eventually he did turn to Kate.
Her expectations for honesty were dashed. The viscount abused the last chance she had decided to give him, starting a conversation for which he heavily depended on his brother's participation. It was as though a total stranger wore the viscount's likeness and had taken his place at the table. Nothing he said could remind her of the man she had all those intriguing conversations with. Not even αν improper insinuation to provoke her. A stranger who talked about demanding aunts, drafty country houses and the intensive needs of farms at that time of year; a stranger who never met her eyes.
Confused and offended, Kate played her part and remained acceptably civil. She would not give anyone at the table the satisfaction to find fault in her behavior. Deep inside though, she could not help but feel a growing hollowness. The thought of spending time with him initially had felt like punishment for that trick she had tried at his expense, but getting to know him and his family under that light of domesticity, their informal glory as he had phrased it, was endearing. When he suggested that she could stay there indefinitely, Kate could not pretend that her heart had not yearned for something because he looked eager and very handsome -oh so undeniably handsome- when he said it. A proposal could have followed if she had given an enthusiastic reply. That would have been a very dangerous thing to resist. But neither she nor him walked down that merry road and the dinner turned to travesty.
For the rest of the evening Kate's pride had not allowed her to approach him. After all, she had not wished to be better acquainted with him. If he wished for distance, she would offer it in abundance.
Later at the house, from the glances the others exchanged, it was clear that they wished to discuss the dinner. She did not stay to break the heavy silence with her opinion, but she lingered outside the door to overhear theirs.
"Well, tonight did not go as planned." The uncertainty in Edwina's voice betrayed the understatement.
"A setback to be sure," Lady Danbury said stiffly.
"A mere setback? We all watched him pursuing her," Edwina went on. "Only to be undone by a silly comment. From that moment he behaved as though the dinner he wanted was nothing but a chore on his social calendar."
"Miss Edwina, I cannot claim to know the reasons for his distress." That was highly doubtful since Lady Danbury had proclaimed, far too many times for Kate to forget, that she knew everything about everyone in the city. "I agree he did a poor job of hiding it, but if anything it proves that the man cannot pretend with true conviction which means his interest in your sister is real. To think that this unfortunate incident reflects on his intentions towards Miss Sharma is a misguided notion."
"You know the viscount, Lady Danbury. I know my daughter. Regardless of his intentions his methods will not help him." There was more sympathetic sadness in her voice than Kate was comfortable with.
"We can help the situation, Lady Mary."
"But should we? Why?" her mama asked, restoring Kate's hopes for a united front. "Why should I encourage this courtship? For more of what transpired tonight?"
"Come now, Lady Mary." At that point the old lady got impatient. "What could he have done differently but go on with the dinner without any further errors? The proper thing-"
"Honestly, Lady Danbury," her mama replied in the same tone. "Given the way he looks at Kate most of the time, if not at all times," she implied what anyone could detect, "I would have imagined that his scruples over impropriety would not have been so serious and he could have found the nerve to at least make some warm gesture instead of subjecting Kate to that formal politeness."
"I do not entirely disagree with you. But I do feel very strongly that there's a true chance for a good, even an excellent, match between them."
"That had been my belief too, as you well know," her mama reminded the old lady, "but I fear that any attachment seems less and less possible to form."
"No one can decide something so serious based on one dinner or worse on a few awkward moments due to something completely irrelevant to their courtship. I refuse to believe that."
Edwina's sigh was deep enough to be heard through the closed door. "Kate can decide on far less, Lady Danbury. I for one, do not blame her. She never wanted this attachment anyway. Why should she suffer through such indecisiveness?"
Lady Danbury took her time to answer. "Obviously I do not wish to act against your wishes. You are her family." It sounded more like an opening statement than a closing one. "But this proximity may not be good for a more impartial view on it and a clear head is much needed. Let us discuss it again tomorrow. Yes, Lady Mary?"
Kate did not want to hear more. She wanted to cry and sleep even though the former was far easier than the latter. No dream of any kind upset her during her sleep and she counted that as a blessing. In the morning she refused to talk about the previous night and informed everyone she would spend the day on errands for Edwina so that they could prepare their plans accordingly. Her mama decided to accompany her instead of sending one of the maids with her.
Throughout the day her mama did her best to shelter Kate from the looks of everyone who, prompted by Whistledown's imaginings about the viscount's toast, expected an announcement or at least a hint of one. Despite her mama's efforts Kate saw every last look that flew from her face to her hand and she heard every whisper wondering what had gone wrong.
Madam Delacroix was among the very few who respectfully kept their curiosity to themselves. In her shop she maintained strictly fashion related conversations, something both Kate and her mama appreciated, but Kate wondered about the motives behind the gesture. One thing was certain, the modiste knew enough about the viscount to wish her luck with him after that one fitting at the Danbury house. Perhaps the viscount's secrets could be discovered after all. It was an invasion of privacy and a tremendously stupid idea to begin with but Kate realized that she needed those answers even though she should not.
When Edwina told her that the viscount had visited while she had been away, Kate felt the urge to learn what he was hiding burning hot.
"I will find out," Kate said aloud, walking in the drawing room.
"What was that, Miss Sharma?" Lady Danbury asked her.
"Nothing, my lady."
Lady Danbury studied her for a few seconds and then she reminded her of the Cowpers' soiree that evening. Kate had decided to not attend it. Until the last minute Lady Danbury tried to change her mind, saying that there were other people apart from the Bridgertons that she might enjoy meeting, but Kate simply refused to follow them. The Queen was expecting them the following day and Kate needed all her energy for that visit. Edwina was flawlessly charming but Kate would require time to relax in order to appear pleasant and engaging. An event where she'd have to be on guard for the incorrigible viscount was not the way to get the rest she needed.
"Have a good time," she told them and with that she bid them goodnight.
After another undisturbed night, Kate felt more confident in their mission to win the ton for Edwina. The hours they spent at the Palace would remain memorable for the rest of their lives. The grandeur, the importance of the occasion, the excitement of the opportunity all mingled beautifully together. The Queen asked her questions, drew her conclusions and evaluated the sisters. In the end she was pleased with Edwina and Kate's heart soared for her sister's success.
Inside the carriage though, Kate's mind slipped to that little phrase and what it meant. A mistake. She did not manage to forget it all the way to the house. When she asked her mama about her morning, hoping for something else to occupy her time with, a look passed between her and Lady Danbury.
"Lord Bridgerton visited again while you were away, Kate. I do not believe we saw the last of him."
"It is a good sign." Lady Danbury sought for good news where there was only reason for vexation.
"Lady Danbury, I understand you may feel some sympathy for him, but I did not wish to hear about him yesterday and today I remain equally uninterested. The matter, as far as I am concerned, is closed."
Lady Danbury did not reply to her, leaving her eyebrows to give her response. The matter is far from closed.
"What is the plan then, Kate?" her mama asked something very logical. "Either within these walls or outside a meeting with him seems rather inescapable."
The option to ignore him was not available anymore. It was her fault because instead of doing exactly that, she antagonized him in his games. "Very soon he will find another woman to tire into submission and subsequently into matrimony and I shall be free."
Will you be content with such an outcome? No one actually asked, but Kate saw the question on their faces. If they would ask she had an answer. Through enough practice she would become convincing.
"Edwina, are you prepared for tomorrow?" Her mama changed the topic. In his last visit Lord Lumley had mentioned that he had something important to ask Edwina and everyone understood it would be the much anticipated proposal. The Races, with all the noise and the dust, wasn't the romantic spot a young lady would dream of but it would be enough.
A proposal and then a wedding. With any luck, Kate hoped and prayed, her departure from England was getting even closer.
The first attempt to see her was the next morning of the infamous dinner. Anthony visited the Danbury house hoping to accompany Miss Sharma at the park or at least extend the invitation, have it declined and perhaps beg for a chance to apologize before she exited the room. A rather aloof Miss Edwina informed him that her sister was spending the day at the shops with their mother for various appointments. The message was clear.
The conversation was cut short by Lady Danbury who seemed in a hurry to usher the Queen's Diamond to the garden where her gentleman caller was expecting her. The old lady could not risk having two failed courtships under one roof and who could blame her. Anthony envied Lumley as he watched the youngest Sharma showing signs of excitement at the prospect of meeting with him. His own lady had not even been there to send a scowl in his direction. It did not bode well for him.
Anthony managed to steal a moment to ask Lady Danbury if they would attend the soiree at the Cowpers' house that evening. After a long look, with which she took his measure as if she had met him for the first time and found him wanting, she told him that they would. Then she left to let him wonder if she was reconsidering her decision to influence Miss Sharma in his favor.
He did not care. What mattered was that he would see her.
Or so Anthony thought.
What made the already boring gathering even worse was the fact that when he started counting the Sharmas entering the drawing room one was missing. Miss Sharma did not attend the event after all. Apparently a sudden but minor ailment prevented her from joining her family and Lady Danbury. The possibility of that being true was miniscule, compared to the possibility that she was avoiding him, but it existed and so did Anthony's restraint in his response.
On the bright side, an ailment meant that she had to be at home the following day.
She has to be.
He would finally see her. In her sickbed if he had to. He would see her even if he had to prepare for her a healing broth on the damned stove that he had learned how to use just to prove that he could, burning three of his fingertips but thankfully not the entire house.
"Anthony?" his mother called. "Is everything alright, dearest? You appear rather upset."
He was a volcano erupting violently, destroying civilizations in its path.
"Everything is fine, mother," he replied in the composed manner suitable for polite company in a drawing room but he could hear the anger in his own voice. He had to plan his next move with Miss Sharma. Which only meant that he had to leave as soon as possible. With two strides he was at the door, but his mother stopped him. Right behind her, Eloise and Benedict came searching for an exit of their own.
"Poetry reading." In two words Eloise heralded the worst news; the soiree would evolve into a tedious affair with drab performances no one cared for. "They prepared a poetry reading by the gentlemen, Anthony."
"Perhaps we should leave," Benedict said with a shudder. "I do admire poetry, but I cannot see anyone here who could do it justice."
Eloise put her glass down. "We're leaving."
By then Anthony knew that he could not leave without his siblings leaving too and therefore embarrassing the whole family. His mother's eyes were on him, expecting him to do the right thing. He could not leave her there alone. "It might actually be good, Eloise."
"It might get better if anyone suggests you make an effort, brother."
Eloise was more than capable of following through with the threat and too eager for it as well, but he was determined. "We're staying." As long as Benedict could fetch him a stronger drink than the lemonade that flowed in their cups Anthony found he could stomach at least one uninspiring verse comparing a woman's beauty to that of a flower or the colors of the dawn. If that failed he could just stand there and think of ways to make amends to Miss Sharma.
He came up with nothing other than visiting the Danbury house again and asking to see her. In the morning he added a bouquet of fresh chrysanthemums to his appearance but he almost felt them withering in his hands as her mother told him that her eldest daughter was not at home. She had followed Lady Danbury and Miss Edwina to the Palace at Her Majesty's invitation. Admittedly when he asked "She is out?" he was not the picture of calmness and composure he ought to have been and Lady Mary did not forgive it.
"Why yes, Lord Bridgerton," she replied. "Is there something amiss? Did my daughter fail to keep an appointment with you this morning? I do not believe I was informed of one."
"No, we did not exactly arrange-" He began to say, but making it sound as though there had been a silent agreement was another mistake Lady Mary would not forgive. "Miss Sharma did not expect me this morning, Lady Mary. I merely thought I would have found her here because last night you mentioned that she was unwell." He cleared his throat. "What I mean is that I am glad she feels better already."
"Oh, yes. Very much so. My Kate has always been very resilient. There's little that she doesn't overcome."
Anthony did not comment on the last part, sensing that his presence in Miss Sharma's life was one of the things that the young lady was trying to overcome. "Will they return soon?"
"I couldn't estimate the time of their return, my lord. That depends on the Queen."
"Of course. We all work at her Majesty's pleasure."
It was clear that for the foreseeable future he would remain at Lady Danbury's drawing room, so Lady Mary tried to converse with him, not quite hostile but not quite hospitable either. At least the lemon cake was nice. He nibbled at it, answering any banal questions Lady Mary could think of to drive him away.
"Did you enjoy last night's poetry, my lord? You did look as though you contemplated a lot." The more she talked the more he understood that even though Miss Sharma wasn't born from her body, the two of them shared a few similarities.
"It was an interesting experience." Whenever it was necessary he had learned to mask his dislike with the use of words like unusual or interesting. "Does Miss Sharma enjoy poetry?"
"Not particularly. Her interests lie with other activities."
"What a relief." At least reciting poetry was not expected of him. Not that what was expected of him was easier. It would require less effort to meet with the Russian Tsar.
"Is it, my lord?"
He missed the shy and uncomfortable Lady Mary from their first meeting.
"It is. I am interested in getting to know her. If I had to do it using odes or sonnets the result would be devastating," he said in earnest. "Or ridiculous."
"A devastating poetry recital is a horror to be sure, but there's great value in levity, my lord. With the right audience, of course." Either way Miss Sharma would be extremely entertained, of that he had no doubt. "If one lacks the skill, I suppose it is a relief to be spared the ordeal of a bad performance," Lady Mary said, screening her smile behind her cup of tea. "One shouldn't attempt something about which one isn't certain."
There it was. His bizarre behavior had been noticed all across the table and it made an impact he could not simply charm away.
"Indeed."
Anthony realized he had to gather what was left of his dignity and return home.
Several members of his family tried to talk to him and express sympathy or offer assistance but he shut himself in his study. There was work he had to do alone.
The reminder of his past had struck like a lightning bolt on a sunny day, setting ablaze that part of his mind where fear reigned. It had not been longing for that woman that triggered his discomfort. No fond memories could be found in those days with her. Necessity had brought them together; one needed support and the other distraction. It worked for some time and it worked well until it didn't. A series of lamentable decisions and more hurt than either involved individual deserved was the end of the affair. He had kept one last thing to remember, not her, but his decision to never make the same mistake again. He had risked so much for something that was one of his greatest mistakes. That printed brochure had turned to ash after he met Miss Sharma. There had been no room for any other. He had not been with another since that day at the park. He knew Miss Sharma was the one he needed.
But the fear that he would fail again -a different failure but a failure all the same- was casting a wide shadow over the new beginning he was trying. Fear numbed him, forcing him to distance himself and give the wrong impression. That could not continue. He could not let that part of him take control again. There was a long life ahead of him and he could make it a good one with the right woman. Miss Sharma.
Hours passed with him thinking of how he could make her see that.
The sun set outside his window and he had not moved from his chair. Calls for tea and dinner remained unanswered. The tray with the food his mother sent was left untouched. Burning the midnight oil Anthony went over and over in his mind every interaction for any helpful clue.
For two days he had stalked her hellbent to force some forgiveness from her when he should only try to persuade her that he was worthy of it.
Idiot.
His chances would be improved if he would make his attempt when Miss Sharma was in a good mood, somewhere where she was enjoying herself. Where would that be? Mercifully not at a poetry reading.
Miss Sharma enjoyed humiliating him, but no one had arranged an evening with that theme. Yet. If his first meeting with her was any indication she enjoyed spending time alone away from everyone which was of no help to him. From that same encounter he knew something else; she loved riding. That was promising. It made sense that she would enjoy anything related to horses.
That was it.
He would find her at the Races.
"We are going to the Races today. All of us, as a family." The announcement at the breakfast table was met with more objections than he cared to respond to. They all had something to do, somewhere to be or someone to see, but their plans vanished just as their voices died with Anthony closing the door behind him. His mother would make it happen, he was sure of it.
He asked his valet to do his best. As a request it was redundant because his man was always doing his best, but it felt good to feel that nothing would be left to chance.
Colin found him in the corridor. He had avoided the soiree but their mother insisted on everyone coming to the Races. His brother was still annoyed that he had not been trusted with pertinent information due to which he had not been unable to avoid his part in that debacle at the dinner.
"Anything we need to know for today? I would hate to cause embarrassment by mistake again."
"Get the man his instructions, Anthony. I think he prefers it when he knowingly causes embarrassment," Benedict said.
"No one enjoys annoying or embarrassing our viscount more than you do."
"Indeed I do," Benedict has no qualms admitting it. "And I thoroughly enjoy every opportunity to achieve my goal, even if not every move was a strategic one. You on the other hand, little brother," he laughed between his words. "You need to know just how clever you are. Being lucky is not enough."
Anthony let them to it and moved ahead. They would stop at some point.
"I think the viscount would prefer it if we took a vow of silence," Benedict said with a smirk. "Too many possible traps for any human mind to avoid."
"Struggle through it, Benedict," Antony retorted. If Benedict was left unchecked, he would unravel his talent in spotting every mistake Anthony made and his intuitive remarks were hitting too close to the mark.
"As your lordship commands."
Their mother was waiting for them at the door with the others.
"Anthony?" Her frustration had yet to be unleashed. Saying what she wanted to say and choosing her time well was her most enviable talent. "Have you considered your choices for today? Which way does luck strike?"
"Mother, I will fix things with Miss Sharma-"
"I was referring to the bet at the horserace, dearest," she cut him off, getting a chortle from Benedict. "For the other matter I should hope you will not resort to ideas that include gambling your future, based purely on luck."
Enviable, gut wrenching talent.
His optimism for his plan had not been great but the illusion was destroyed completely once he saw them.
Lumley was at the edge of the second row. On his left sat Miss Edwina, next to whom was Miss Sharma. One seat over, Anthony found Dorset, leaning towards her for some supposed witty remark. It had been a perfectly respectable seating arrangement. Other spectators, more specifically other unmarried men and women, could be seen to be much closer to one another than Miss Sharma and Dorset and it was still appropriate. However, for Anthony to feel the tension leaving his body, Dorset should have been three rows and five seats away from her; in any direction. Or he should have been in an entirely different county. At the slightest opportunity Anthony would act and shout good riddance when Dorset would be gone. Until then, as he had advised his brother earlier, he would struggle through it. Thankfully the first row of seats was unoccupied or him standing there would be impossible.
"Lord Bridgerton." Lumley was the first to greet him. Miss Edwina followed, more pleasantly than their last interaction. Miss Sharma inclined her head ever so slightly; if he hadn't been staring at her intently he would have missed it. Dorset wanted to seem busy with a pamphlet, but the side glances he was stealing at Miss Sharma betrayed the lack of confidence. Quick, shivering Timmy.
"Miss Sharma. Miss Edwina. Lumley." Anthony spoke each name loudly, pausing before adding Dorset's as well. "Dorset."
"Bridgerton," his rival finally said. For that small greeting he assumed an air of superiority that Anthony could not find appealing or convincing. He could not read Miss Sharma's opinion, for no other reason than the fact she wasn't paying Dorset any attention whatsoever. Following her example Anthony abandoned his former friend to his insecurities and turned to Miss Sharma.
The teal gown made her look more like a jewel than any woman had a right to be and he thought that his mother's ring would not do. For Miss Sharma it had to be an emerald ring. The most magnificent and superb emerald.
"I am beyond relieved for your quick recovery, Miss Sharma." He reached for her hand. The gesture seemed to surprise her, bringing a spark of defiance in her eyes but she did not deny him. Her fingers were nervously moving against his own as if tapping on piano keys. Almost hungrily he savored the effect he had on her; if only she wasn't keen on fighting it. What he liked more, leaning forward for a delicate kiss, was that apart from the familiar scent of lilies, there was a faint trace of chrysanthemums on her skin. It could have been because she had dismantled the bouquet and thrown them away herself, but at least she held them for some time before doing so. Anthony would hold onto that. As he rose, he held her gaze and did not let go. He stroked her knuckles with his thumb and he briefly felt a light pressure in his palm; she was not objecting to his hold, but securing it. The moment did not last long but he would hold onto that too. "You were missed at the soiree."
"Was there a particular poem you wished I had heard, my lord?" For her first words to him, those were a good choice. "Which was your favorite?"
"None, I am afraid. I cannot profess any knowledge on the subject. My exposure to the written word these days is limited to contracts, ledgers and Parliament documents. But perhaps with you there I could have been inspired to at least admire someone else's poetry even if I cannot create my own."
"How would I have affected your experience, my lord?"
"Everyone needs a muse, Miss Sharma. I could not imagine one more fitting than you."
It stunned her.
"Well said, Lord Bridgerton!" exclaimed Lumley, with a look of adoration at Miss Edwina.
"I would have come to invite you to the races earlier today but I had promised my family to join them for breakfast," he said, ignoring the fact that she already had an escort for the event. What an escort! "We are exceptionally close."
"So close in fact they would skip much needed rest to join you in whatever activity you would put your mind to, are they not? Mr Colin Bridgerton had arrived in England only a few hours before he was invited to the Queen's ball."
The reference to the shenanigans of the Queen's Ball would not deter him.
"Having covered a similar distance myself in the recent past," Miss Sharma continued, "I must stand in awe of his constitution, for he did ask me to dance when he clearly looked like he would benefit from a comfortable chair."
"Brotherly affection, Miss Sharma. Does wonders for one's constitution."
"Then I must stand in awe of his familial loyalty, too."
"The Bridgertons are famous for it." Lumley, an admirer of all things Bridgerton, spoke again. "My mother's been wanting to enjoy another tea at Bridgerton House for some time."
"We must gratify your mother's wish, Lumley. Soon." Anthony was in no hurry to specify the date. "Dorset, I believe I owe you one dinner too. Are you free tonight?"
"Tomorrow," Dorset muttered, ungrateful for the invitation but unable to refuse it either. "If it is not a terrible inconvenience for Lady Bridgerton."
"How could it ever be?" Anthony saw that others around them were drinking lemonade… "I could not help but notice the ladies are without refreshments. It is an unseasonably hot day, and any gentleman would make sure-"
Lumley jumped to his feet at an alarming speed. "Miss Edwina, allow me to fetch a lemonade for you."
"Oh, that would be most agreeable." Miss Edwina beamed at him as though he would climb the highest mountain to retrieve the refreshments. "Thank you, my lord."
Anthony was not as thrilled as Miss Edwina. In his attempt to get rid of Dorset, he only managed to send Lumley away. However, the vacant seat was not a small consolation. Miss Edwina saw him approaching with determination and she had to move away from Miss Sharma without grace or elegance or he would have landed on her, in his attempt to sit beside Miss Sharma. Between a gasp and a laugh from Miss Edwina, Anthony, very innocently touching Miss Sharma's forearm and brushing against her knee, got comfortable next to her. As comfortable as he had never been on a wooden bench without any shelter from the sun. But it was splendid.
"It's a splendid day for a race. Isn't it, Miss Sharma?" he whispered in her ear.
Miss Sharma looked at him as though she could have buried him in the dirt and left him there until all horses would pass over him at least twice. "What exactly do you think-"
"Didi!" Miss Edwina called. "Not now. We are in public." Miss Sharma knew that her sister was right, but it bore little importance weighed against the rage he had awakened in her. It would be worrying if it wasn't a little funny.
"Miss Sharma," Dorset said. "I was thinking about that story you told me earlier. About the frogs."
Ah, Anthony thought. The beginning of every great romance. Tailless amphibians.
"Frogs?" Miss Sharma's utter bafflement on the topic Dorset chose was comical.
"In the stream by your house."
"Oh yes." Her disinterest was even more so. Anthony had to rescue her.
"What delightful imagery with you and your little sister there enjoying the water and making tiny friends in the animal kingdom. Your childhood must have been beautiful, Miss Sharma."
"It was, my lord."
"Your father must have been very happy being able to provide that for you." Anthony thought of his own father, being the center of their family's happiness. He thought of himself too, being a poor substitute for the younger siblings who looked up to him for a father figure.
She did not reply immediately. His heart sank, fearing that he had saddened her with those memories.
"Growing up in the English countryside must have been nice too."
"Well, Aubrey Hall has no stream with frogs, but we make do." He laughed. "It would be a fine excursion somewhere with water right about now. It is so hot. Dorset," he added more loudly. "Won't you bring a refreshment for Miss Sharma? Do not worry, I shall entertain the lady in your absence."
"Of course. It is what a gentleman would do. I'll be a moment, Miss Sharma."
Miss Sharma seemed unable to decide whether it was prudent to dissuade him because he looked like he could use the respite.
"For the other night, I must apologize. I did not behave as I should have."
She stiffened. It wasn't a good moment to address the issue that had caused the strain between them but he did not want her to think he was avoiding the consequences of his actions.
"You behaved as you felt, my lord." The hurt in her voice was an undertone of the disappointment. "Nothing more needs to be said."
"That is not the evidence of my intentions you believe it is, Miss Sharma."
"It was indicative though," she said, keeping her head straight ahead. "It pointed to the general direction of unsaid things that must remain so."
"You will hear no excuses from me. Anyone in their right mind would think as you did." Anthony risked getting closer. His eyes caught her hands clasping one another with her kerchief nearly torn from the tight grip. He wanted to cup that tiny fist of aching and make it go away. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Believe me there are so many things I wish to say to you. There are so many things I wish you to know."
She was nervous again. "As my sister said, we are in public."
"Can I see you in private?" Even thinking of it was a scandal, but he did not care. "When?"
"Making such suggestions, my lord, is the definition of arrogance not to mention impropriety."
"Allow me to rephrase it then. I wish to see you and explain myself. Think about it and tell me where and when you wish to meet. For now let's enjoy this day. We can agree on this, can we not?"
"On this, yes." That was as far as one of her promises would go.
Dorset and Lumley announced their return. In their hands there were five glasses, but one of them was empty.
"Such bad luck." Lumley cried. "Lord Bridgerton, I promise you we thought of you as well, but a small accident occurred. Mr Dorset tripped over something, I do not know what-"
"A misplaced chair," Dorset provided his excuse.
"A chair, yes," Lumley went on. "It had to be the chair, although I did not see it so close to us." Rightfully so, he was confused by it. "Alas the damage was done. Mr Dorset lost his balance and knocked one glass from my hand. And we were nearly here…"
"I couldn't be more sorry, Bridgerton," Dorset lied.
"A terribly inconvenient accident, I am sure," Anthony said, glaring at him.
"You will have mine, of course, my lord. I insist." Lumley would have a heart attack before he proposed to Miss Edwina and that was something Anthony did not want on his conscience.
"Worry not, Lumley." Anthony declined the offer. "It is the thought that counts." Lumley got to his seat, beginning the tale anew with Miss Edwina being his enthusiastic audience for all the details.
Anthony noticed that Dorset faced difficulty getting to his seat because the first row was crowded now. There was no room for maneuvering, while holding two glasses full to the brim. He would need his hands free to support himself on the shoulders of the gentlemen sitting there in order to climb to the second row. Dorset reached the same conclusion eventually. It was like watching a dog doing math.
"Dorset." Anthony gestured for him to give him the glasses. He looked unconvinced. "Unless you prefer to remain where you are."
Dorset thanked him through gritted teeth and did as he was told. Anthony offered one glass to Miss Sharma whose look told him that she knew what he intended. As he raised the glass to his lips to drink Dorset's lemonade he winked at her. "Refreshing, isn't it?"
She fought the smile. She lost the battle.
Kate drank her lemonade in silence. The endless waiting agitated her. She waited for Mr Dorset to recover from the recent addition of the viscount to their group and stop trying to overcompensate with non-entertaining ideas for entertainment. On the other hand, she waited for the viscount to moderate his eagerness to amuse, please, and arouse joy and melancholy without pause. She had been his main concern and it was wearing her down, because what pilled greatly on her edginess was the anticipation for Lord Lumley's proposal.
For all of that to stop the race had to begin, be conducted, and conclude so she drank and wondered when that would be.
"We arrived early it seems." Lord Bridgerton said, as if he could read her thoughts.
"Yes unfortunately so," Kate could not hide her displeasure, looking for any sign of the riders or their horses at the starting point.
"Well at least we are in excellent company to help time pass quickly." Her future brother-in-law was trying his hardest to infect everyone with his honest mirth. Thus far, only Edwina responded to his efforts.
"Does it usually take so long?" Kate asked no one in particular, but the viscount seized the opportunity.
"No, as far as I know. While we wait, any notes of comparison to the races in India? As an enthusiastic equestrian you must have some experience? You enjoy riding, if I remember correctly."
Kate did not reaffirm his recollection on whether she enjoyed riding because if she had to keep in mind that they were in public, no reply would suffice to efficiently refresh his memory about the defeat he suffered at the park, where he acquired the knowledge in the first place.
"Kate loves riding," Edwina felt compelled to reply. "I never took a liking to it myself. But I do love one particular story about a horse." She turned to Lord Lumley who looked determined to not only hear the story, but learn hindu in order to read the original text.
"We must ride together one day, Miss Sharma." Now the viscount was toying with fire. "The Duchess and I used to ride often. Nowadays one obligation or another keeps us from it. What do you say? Would you be interested in helping me remind her Grace of those simpler times?"
Perfect. He knew that she could hardly refuse an invitation regarding a Duchess. Especially a Duchess married to lady Danbury's godson.
"It would be a pleasure, my lord." For whom, it would remain to be seen.
"In anticipation of his son growing up and soon being able to ride, his Grace decided to invest in horses at his estate. Perhaps one day we can visit Clyvedon and see them."
Once again the viscount spoke in ways that rattled her. Who was we? We, acquaintances at a country party? We, a small group of friends? We, you and me, a married couple?
The viscount and his words would be the death of her. If she let him.
Everyone turned their heads in the same direction. The riders appeared. The beginning of the end was near.
"Did you place a bet, Miss Sharma?"
"Earlier," she said tersely.
"I picked Nectar. Well-bred, highly trained, and well-favored." At least that was what the man in charge had told him. Everyone else agreed and it seemed a safe bet.
"Nectar." Miss Sharma said under her breath. "Really?" Anthony could hear Dorset laughing too.
"Yes. I have a feeling about him." A feeling that slowly deflated while Miss Sharma exposed the flaws in his thinking process.
"Nectar is a prize steed," was the extent of his reply and the epitome of his wisdom on the matter. Even if he had not considered every little thing, was everyone else stupid too?
Apparently they were. Miss Sharma was in a rare form, giving her learned opinion very decidedly, leaving no room for criticism. Antony fixed his eyes hard on the terrain ahead of them as though he could change the conditions to his advantage just because he wanted to.
"You think too much about it."
She did not dignify that with a response. With a nod she invited him to witness the proof of her words as the race progressed. The horses they had discussed showed the signs Miss Sharma had explained so eloquently and they performed as she had predicted. The rush and the excitement made her stand as did the rest of the spectators all around them. Amidst whistling and yelling Miss Sharma cheered for High Flyer and Anthony could only watch her captivated by the sight of her. The unbridled enthusiasm she showed, something she did not express regularly, was worth the defeat and the humiliation.
Who would have thought that she would enjoy two things simultaneously?
"I must say, I have never bested a viscount before. Beating you feels the same as any other win but somehow smells sweeter."
"You think too much. And I, too little."
She looked flattered. It was definitely worth it.
"Let us collect your winnings, Miss Sharma." Thomas Dorset suggested.
With no clear direction Anthony trailed behind until Miss Edwina caught up to him.
"Will you not follow the others, my lord?" Miss Edwina asked him.
"I have no winnings to collect, Miss Edwina. Only my family's members."
"I would say you should have asked Kate before placing your bet," she gave him a sympathetic look that bordered on pity. "But I don't think she would have assisted you."
"I believe you think that I do not do much to assist myself in regard to your sister."
"No, my lord. You do not. But at least you try to keep up."
Lord Lumley proposed. Edwina gave her giddy reply. Kate felt a great weight being lifted from her chest. Smiles and wishes from the crowd. Tears of joy from her mama and a grin of satisfaction from Lady Danbury.
"Well done, my dear."
"I barely did anything, my lady. They met and fell in love."
"Two people who fall in love, do not necessarily end up in a church, exchanging vows, Miss Sharma. It takes work to get there. It takes help and you helped your sister. You taught her to have faith in herself, to use her brain, to be open."
"If you put it that way…"
"Now I am wondering. Will you allow anyone to help you?"
"I-"
"Enjoy this moment," she said. "And think of what I said."
In the crowd Kate saw him looking at her. He smiled.