A/N: Please welcome the much awaited first modification in this rewritten story. A little more personal touch to the morning ride. And a peek at our favorite Viscount.


CHAPTER - 3 - THE MORNING RIDE


Anthony Bridgerton was banging his head against a wall, metaphorically speaking. It had been more than a week since the London season had begun and he could not find even one young miss who was good enough to be a Viscountess.

'And which young lady will you choose to be your Viscountess?', Daphne had asked him, at the end of the previous season. To which he replied 'It does not matter'.

But now it seemed as if it did matter. After all, only perfection can parallel perfection. So, he had a list. A list of accomplishments a gentle bred lady would need to behold in order to capture his attention should she want to become his Viscountess. Yet, never in his wildest imaginations had he thought that the ladies of the ton are so, for lack of better words, dimwitted and lackluster. Maybe one week was not enough for all the eligible ladies of the ton to reenter upper society. The balls did look as if they carried one too less of eligible misses. The ladies he had already met could not be all there is. Some of them didn't even seem to read, for one. One of them even thought that Napoleon fought for Spain. And for the women who did read, well, they were accomplished in that sense, but could not seem to manage answering his questions about how they would handle a family. Some were indecisive about the number of kids they shall sire, while others were entrapped in peculiar habits and overbearing mothers. His mother had quipped that he would end up alone with such expectations. But to him, the role of a viscountess was not as shallow. None of them would do. So he would have to keep looking, and he would stick with the list he had.

The only relief he obtained from such dull days was returning to his study at the end for a glass of good brandy. Alas, his estates always caught up to him there, asking for tedious amounts of work. Anthony gave everything he could muster up; staying up late until midnight finishing them. Not a moment too soon. And then he took to the brothels of London looking for other pursuits to allow himself an outlet. Plainly put, a woman for a night, and he would never see her again. But even that did not yield what he wanted, and he felt as if nothing could dim the ache within him.

Today was one such day. Anthony was tired. Eligible misses, Estate ledgers, and Prostitutes was too much now. He needed something else, something new. Maybe some fresh air would do the trick today. So Anthony decided to take the long way home today. He led his stallion, Thunder, through a different path, away from Mayfair towards the clearings near the Primrose Chase. The horse neighed at the sudden change of route but obliged. Soon Anthony reached the respite he needed. Away from the morning routines of the London, into fresh air that the clearings offered. Dawn had just begun to break into the morning sky, and the birds had only awakened. Suddenly, Anthony heard a horse neigh in the distance and he looked in the direction of the hoofbeats. A distant figure was riding at the utmost speed towards him, and Anthony barely had enough time to recognize it was a woman. A woman who was riding astride, might he add.

"Hello there, Miss, are you in trouble", Anthony bellowed as she rode past him.

The hooded figure did not stop or look back. Anthony tightened his grip around the reins and prompted Thunder to pick up speed. If she was truly in trouble, she might not have heard him. So he started riding behind her, as fast as his horse would allow him. But soon it was clear to him that the woman had realized that she was being pursued. She even looked back at him momentarily, but had not made any moves to slow down. Instead, she picked up speed and rode faster.

Anthony realized at that moment that she meant to race him. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle, picking up speed himself. Now he had to know who this person was who woke up and decided to outrun him at dawn, and he followed her with intense passion.

"Careful now", Anthony shouted as the woman neared a large bush. "Whoa there".

But the woman seemed to be a natural, for in one swift movement, her horse leaped over the bush and landed on the other side, slowly coming to a halt a few yards later. Anthony however, did not make that leap, as he pulled Thunder to a stop and looked over. The woman took off her cloak and looked back at him. Her skin as brown as the earth, her hair braided loosely. She smiled knowingly, and Anthony bowed his head in admiration. This was fun, he thought, as she gave him a nod and turned around only to ride into the grove of trees, leaving him out of breath with a racing heart.

.

.

.

.

"Enjoying your victory lap?"

The woman was startled and mumbled something in a language Anthony did not understand as she looked for a path to escape. Anthony had followed her from a distance for a while after she left because he had simply felt to find out who this woman was.

"You'll not be afforded such an ample head-start this time", Anthony added. He slowed down his horse and tried to walk parallel beside this woman. She sighed, resigning to her fate, and turned around to face him.

"Apologies, sir", she said plainly. "I did not mean to cause anyone concern."

Anthony looked at her quizzically. "Does your maid know you are riding astride"?

"I have no maid", she said looking ahead.

"Ah, then you are married", he said, without giving a second thought. Her face turned into a grim expression that told him it was the wrong thing to say. She was unmarried. "Forgive me", he paused. "Then you are lost".

Alas, that was the wrong thing to say again, he surmised. "I am not lost either. I am on my way back to Mayfair", she stiffened. "It is just ahead", she added, looking to her right.

Anthony was now convinced that she was definitely lost because that was not the direction of Mayfair. She was pointing southwards. Mayfair was in the complete opposite direction. "Mayfair?" he questioned, "well, then-"

"I appreciate your attention, sir, but I assure you I am perfectly safe" she asserted and looked ahead. "Perhaps we pretend this encounter never took place? You allow me to go my way, and you go yours."

"You worry about being seen", he said instinctively. He could keep a secret. He would keep her secrets.

"I worry about meeting strange men in parks at dawn who fail to leave me alone with all of their questions," she said, lowering her voice a little. For a moment, it felt as if she was explaining it to a child. He did not like that one bit.

"Your secret is safe with me. I shall not tell a soul", he said scornfully.

"Oh how grateful I am", she replied in a tone mirroring his own.

"Losing races to strange women in such parks at dawn, I can only imagine the questions I would be asked" he muttered.

Her chuckle was contagious, for Anthony could not help but join in. "Is that what you think that was?" she questioned. "A race?"

"Well, was it not?" he implied.

The woman stopped in her path and questioned innocently, "Does one not need actual competition for a race?". Alas, the question was not innocent anymore. He understood very clearly what she was implying. That he was not a good horseman, so this would not even constitute a race.

"You could say that I was a bad competitor if we had decided on a finish line together but alas, we made no such agreement" he articulated defensively.

"Aaah. I see you are not one for losing then."

Anthony was appalled. This was unbelievable, but alas, he had nothing to say. So he settled for a smile. He wanted to get to know her, and this would be the opportunity.

The woman was smirking at him in a most roguish manner, and yet Anthony could not find it unbecoming. But she did not know him.

"Is this the only peculiar habit you have, miss?" he questioned. "Accosting strange men in parks? Something tells me there is more".

"One of the things, I suppose. Although men do not take it lightly when I hunt all of their prey for them, so you might think that is peculiar too".

'Huh', he snorted in derision. She looked at him perplexed.

"You do not have to lie so as to scare me" he said in a matter of fact tone. When her expression did not change, he added "-that you would shoot me if I bother you anymore".

"Why would I-" she began, but stopped mid way. "I have nothing to gain by lying to you, sir", she said.

"Then you would like me to believe that you truly shoot?" he chuckled. She shrugged as if why not.

"Maybe you can manage on a field shooting straight, but there is no way you can-"

"Do all of the men here have such shallow thoughts?" she asked, enraged.

"I shall have you know-" he began, but fell short at her interruption.

"You think just because I am a woman, I am incapable of doing something mostly done by men, do you not? Correct me if I am wrong", she picked up the reins of her horse, offended.

Her tone struck a chord in his mind, reminding him of words said by Daphne during the previous season. 'You think just because I am a woman, I am incapable of making my own choices?'

His expression, tone, and voice changed immediately. "My most sincere apologies, miss", he said, with his hand on his heart. He meant it.

She looked at him up and down, and settled a little. "At least you have the decency" she muttered, looking away.

That stung. "In the rare instances that it occurs," he contested "I have no difficulty in admitting that I have either lost or that I am wrong. I admit it. Though I'm afraid the same cannot be said for you". He advanced Thunder and began to move forward.

"I beg your pardon-" she questioned.

"-Mayfair is not right ahead, it is the other way entirely" he pointed out. "Not lost, you said?"

She looked around quizzically, while other riders were appearing in the distance. A glum look spread across her face, like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar. But that look was quickly replaced with resignation and determination as she turned her horse about.

"Good day sir" she said, starting for Mayfair.

"Is that all?" he questioned. She looked at him quizzically and stopped again.

"Are you not forgetting something?" he added slyly.

"I should not think you are expecting me to thank you my lord" she snarled. "One should not think you a gentleman if you expect a woman to thank you after helping her", she said slyly.

"Not when the woman in question did not know she was in dire need of help", he smirked.

"I was not in dire need of any help sir. I am sure anyone else could have pointed me in the right direction had I asked."

"Ah. But see, that is where you are mistaken."

"Do not tell me, sir, that no one would have pointed me in the right direction", she said, rolling her eyes. Her black irises bore deep into him somehow, with that one look.

"No one would have pointed you in time," he stopped. She stared at him questioningly. "You snuck out on a horse, did you not", he said in an affirmative way. He did not need to ask her this, for every inch of her body radiated that unrest since the moment he told her she was lost.

If anything, her silence was an answer.

"So I'd wager, by the time you would have realized that you were lost, and were pointed in the right direction, someone would have found out" he said genuinely.

He was saying the right things now. Her face gave it away.

"Thankyou, sir" she breathed out stiffly. But somehow, Anthony realized that it gave him no joy. He bowed again, only to be startled by her horse neighing and pacing forward. "Let's go" she whispered to her horse and began riding. His question had still remained unanswered, as to who this woman was, riding astride at dawn, forcing him to question his perceptions.

"We have not yet been introduced," he risked, trying to pick up the reins after her.

She looked back, but did not stop. "I am afraid that is not possible, sir. Not when I have another victory lap to enjoy", she laughed waving her hand.

Anthony laughed, shaking his head. This woman was something else. Beginning with racing him at dawn, and threatening to shoot him, they had struck up a remarkable conversation. Now, it was something he knew he would remember for a long time. He wondered if he would meet her again, as the season begins in all its glory. He would only have to wait to find out.

.

.

.

.


A/N: Anthony Bridgerton might be an a-hole, but he is our favorite a-hole.