Chapter Text
The world around him swam. The well wishes, congratulations, drowned out, as if he was under water, everyone and everything around him all soft edged and blurred. When he tries to remember it, the day after, he realizes, that the only memory not washed away is the vision of her dressed in white. And the sadness in her eyes.
When all is over, all cakes eaten, all champagne drank and all guests departed but their families, Edwina walks over and kisses him on the cheek, before whispering into his ear. His blushing bride, his wife, all radiant and giggling and so astonishingly unaware. Her words would have made the average man grin dirtily in anticipation of what was yet to come, but he only gives her a small smile, looking at the golden band on his finger. It feels wrong, detached somehow, out of place.
Finally they are ushered into a carriage, bound for what is now to be their home. Viscount and viscountess. Husband and wife. Together till death does them part.
Edwina goes on and on about how lovely the ceremony and reception were, how happy she is for the life that awaits them, their future bright and full of promises, a true dream come true. Anthony nods from time to time, but he knows, deep down, that this future she is painting for them, this happy ever after will never be.
When they arrive, she is swept away by her maids. “A bride wants to look perfect for her wedding night.” She tells him blushing before she disappears only to resurface after the lights have been dimmed for the evening. He has to admit that she is beautiful. Her nightgown falling perfectly around her figure, her hair loose, her cheeks flush in excitement. But she is not her. Will never be her. And no matter how hard Anthony tries, the moment he closes his eyes, Edwina melts into the background, and all he sees is Kate. Kate, the woman who had invaded his thoughts and his dreams, lurking silently around every corner of his mind. Who had been doing so for months.
Edwina comes closer, reaching out for him with half closed eyes and he takes her hand, but looks past her, as if she is a ghost. He tells her kind things and remembers to be gentle, knowing that he is the first to ever touch her, but all is over in mere minutes and he thanks the heavens for her inexperience as he watches her fall asleep.
For him however, sleep won’t come, the feeling of guilt and shame engulfing him, as he stares at the ceiling. When dawn rises, he slips out of bed, gets dressed and rides out. To clear his head, he tells himself, but the truth is, the sole reason is the hope, that she will do the same.
And when she does, it’s like the sun has come out after a storm. He gets off his horse as she gets off of hers.
“Miss Sharma.”
“Lord Bridgerton.” Silence hangs between them for a moment, before he finally speaks.
“It was a mistake.”
She looks at him and he can see the same sadness he saw yesterday in that church. Overarching sadness and pain.
“My lord?”
“Marrying you sister.” He pauses, his voice hollow. “I did as everyone was expecting, as society dictated.” A beat. “As you have asked. She is my wife, now and for eternity and yet, still all I can think about is you.” He expects her to scold him, to chide him like a child, but she remains silent instead, taking a few steps in his direction.
She is within his reach now, so close it’s almost painful.
“Please do not worry, my lord. All will be well.” She finally says, her voice unnaturally calm. “Everything is being arranged. I shall leave for India by the end of the summer. It was the plan all along after all.”
Her words make Anthony’s world go dark for a second. It’s like he is drowning, his lungs aching, desperate to breath, but there is no hope, no air.
“Don’t leave.” His voice is a mere whisper, but the desperation rolls loud as thunder. “Please don’t leave.”
“It will all. Be well.” She comes one step closer, so close he can feel warmth radiating from her, the smell of lilies filling the air.
His forehead touches hers, burning hot, almost feverish. She brings her hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly, before pulling him closer so their lips can finally meet. He thinks that he could die, right here, right now and it would indeed be all well, better even. Calm and eternal. With her.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when they finally pull away from one another, hunger still hanging over them like fog.
“Anthony...I.” She looks into his eyes and he feels that he is breaking apart. It was a fare well gift. Carefully crafted to hold them over for the rest of their lives, lives to be lived worlds apart.
Until my last thread of honour finally snaps...
Never would he have thought, that it would be mere hours after his wedding day. He knows he should feel guilt. But there is just sadness and desperation. And the realization of how much he has lost.
Kate has already stepped back, the distance between them like an ocean. Too deep to cross.
“Goodbye, my lord.”
If there was any glimpse of hope, of happiness, it has been ripped apart, leaving a hole in his soul.
She gets back on her horse and turns away.
And as she watches her leave, disappearing into the distance, Anthony Bridgerton finally understands. Kate Sharma had put a spark in him. And now all it did was burn.
~*~
Kate put down the water bowl and on the night stand, her hands shaking slightly, and sighed. It had been almost a day now. The doctor had come in the morning, prescribing cold compresses and rest.
“Let him sleep. Make sure his head is cold. Your husband is a young and healthy gentleman, it will past soon enough.”
It was almost midnight now, but the fever seemed to not subside, leaving her anxious.
She put her hand to his forehead, so hot to her touch, before dampening a cloth in the water bowl, wringing it out and putting it where her hand had been only seconds before.
“Don’ leave. Please don’ leave.” It is just a murmur as he tosses in his sleep, but she can hear the desperation, and it makes her heart sink.
“I am here Anthony.” She whispers, stroking his hair gently. “It will all be well. It will all. Be well.”