The weeks passed by and Anthony and Kate settled blissfully into married life. Anthony was kept busy with his duties as viscount, but found the days much less troublesome, comforted by the knowledge that he could go home to his wife. He would clamber eagerly out of his carriage, and the butler would inform him of Kate's whereabouts as he removed his hat and coat. He would walk through the house to find her, where she would smile as if she had been waiting solely for this moment, and Anthony's heart would melt.
Occasionally, as befitting their station in society, they would attend balls or the opera, or even just dinner with their families. But Anthony's favourite evenings were when they had no obligations to fulfil. Kate would greet him and ring for tea, and she would sit on his lap and run her hands through his hair as she asked about his day. He would tell her everything that had happened. Kate was proving to be a very competent viscountess and liked to be kept informed of any matters Anthony was dealing with. As a well-read woman, she often had enlightening insights into the issues he faced, and he always appreciated her opinion.
Kate's days now largely consisted of social callings. She would wake when Anthony did, but remained in bed reading the newspaper for a while. After breakfast, she would attend to her correspondence. Whether close friends or mere acquaintances, she would read and reply to each letter with fitting diligence. Then, she would usually go out to get some exercise with Newton, promenading through Hyde Park, either alone or with Edwina or Mary or one of Anthony's sisters. After luncheon, she somehow found her afternoons filled with social callings. Some she enjoyed more than others- Daphne had become a firm friend, and the two had regular catch ups on their husbands and the latest gossip from last night's ball and how Daphne was finding her pregnancy (she was now rather far along with her first child). Otherwise, Kate would occupy herself with a book or darning, or even attempting to become more proficient at the pianoforte.
Even though Kate assumed Anthony would find her days rather mundane, he always asked about how she had filled her time and seemed genuinely interested to know how Edwina was doing or what had happened in the latest chapter of her book. The two would eat dinner together and then settle down for the evening, both reading quietly, comforted in each other's presence, or they would simply retire early and enjoy their evening in the best way they knew how.
One evening, about three weeks after they returned from their honeymoon, Anthony found himself bored to distraction in the House of Lords. As some old baron droned on and on about the war debts, Anthony found himself fantasising about a particularly enjoyable Sunday morning he had spent with Kate only a few days previously. He had gone out early for a ride with Benedict, and came home to the delightful sight of his wife in the bathtub.
Upon entering their chambers, he immediately dismissed Ellen, Kate's lady's maid. She turned round and glared at him playfully. "How am I supposed to wash without her assistance?" she questioned, covering herself up with her arms.
"Oh I believe I am far more qualified to help with that," Anthony smirked, kneeling down beside her and letting his fingers move swiftly in between her legs.
An hour later, Anthony had been dragged into the bath, his back was resting on Kate's front and he was drawing circles on her long legs wrapped around him, and she bemoaned the fact that she still hadn't washed her hair and they were going to be late for luncheon at his mother's house.
"Distracted, Bridgerton?"
Anthony snapped quickly out of his daydream, looking to see Simon's smirking face looking at him.
"This sermon is hardly enthralling."
"Not as enthralling as your wife, I daresay." Simon chuckled quietly.
Anthony merely rolled his eyes, trying to hide the blush slowly creeping onto his face. He sighed in relief as the baron made his closing remarks and Anthony jumped to his feet. It had been less than 24 hours since he had taken Kate on the chaise in the sitting room, but he found himself desperately wanting her again.
"I suppose this means we won't see you at the club tonight?" Simon called after him.
"Most definitely not," Anthony grinned, rushing to his carriage which was stationed outside.
The viscount found himself in a most delightful mood as he bounded up the stairs to Bridgerton House, which he and Kate had moved into shortly after their return.
"Evening, Carson," he said to the butler, who took his hat and gloves.
"I believe Lady Bridgerton is in her chambers, my Lord."
"She is?" Anthony replied, concerned. Kate was often in various parts of the house: the sitting room, her writing room, the garden. But rarely was she in her chambers so early in the evening.
"Yes, my Lord. Ellen remarked that the viscountess felt unwell earlier this afternoon. She did not come down for luncheon."
Anthony nodded politely before racing up the stairs. If Kate was ill then he needed to know. She was remarkably sturdy and rarely complained of any malady, so retiring in the afternoon must mean it was serious.
"Kate?" he said quietly, in case she was asleep. The curtains were drawn in the room, so all Anthony could make out was the outline of her lying on her side, facing the windows. As he stepped closer, he could hear the small sobs she emitted.
"Kate, darling," he panicked now, rushing to her side and grasping her hand. "What's wrong?" All previous impure thoughts he'd been having were at once replaced with concern for his wife.
She looked up at him tearily and gave a small smile. "I didn't know you would be home yet. What time is it?"
"It's almost six," he replied. "What's wrong, Kate?"
"Nothing serious," she said, taking a deep breath and moving herself into a sitting position, wincing slightly as she did.
"Have you called the doctor?" he asked, his voice noticeably panicked.
"There's no need, my love," she tried to reason. "I will be fine."
"You haven't even told me what's wrong with you," he argued. "If you are ill then you should see a doctor, there is no other alternative." Anthony was starting to go into overprotective mode- various diseases were flashing through his head, each leaving him a widower, and his breath quickened.
"Anthony," she stopped him. "It is merely my courses," Her voice was barely audible, concerned at how he would react to her women's issues.
Anthony was quiet for a moment. Yes he had four sisters, but none of them had ever spoken to him about such issues. He knew the basic idea of what women went through on a monthly basis, but had never been confronted with the topic so directly.
He did the maths in his head. "But we have been married for two months. Should you not have had your courses before now?"
Kate smiled. "Do you not remember when I told you I was too sunburnt to do anything, but was more than happy to see to you?"
"How could I forget that?" he grinned, the cheeky smile gradually replacing the anxiety. "You could have just told me the truth, Kate."
"I know, I just wasn't sure how you would react. We are told to keep such things from our husbands. You need not fear, I shall sleep in my own chambers tonight."
"You will do no such thing," Anthony instructed, surprisingly authoritative.
"You realise that we cannot have…relations for the next few days," Kate said, blushing.
"So?" Anthony said. "I still love you, and I still demand that you stay here where I can care for you and hold you."
Kate smiled glowingly at her husband. "I love you too," she said, kissing him gently.
"I know you do," he smirked onto her lips. "You're on my side of the bed. Why is that, Kate?"
She nuzzled into his shoulder to avoid his gaze. "The pillows smelt like you."
Anthony felt a rush of love for this woman, normally so strong, now looking so small and vulnerable. He removed his boots and slid into bed beside her.
"Here's what we're going to do," Anthony said, assuming his 'Viscount voice', as Kate had decided to call it. "Carson informed me that you didn't have lunch, so were are going to get a tray brought up with whatever you want on it."
"Bread and butter?" Kate said, excitedly. "And maybe some of Mrs Patmore's scones, warm with lots of jam and clotted cream? And some hot cocoa?"
"Your wish is my command," Anthony smiled, happy at how easy it was to please her. "And after I have made sure you have eaten enough, I will lie here with you and hold you and read to you or just talk, whatever you would find most comforting."
Kate moved to kiss him on the lips once more. "Knowing you are my husband is comforting enough."
And as she drifted off a short while later, with Anthony's hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on her lower stomach, she again counted her blessings for this man.