Anthony Bridgerton - Tumblr Posts

Hope

Happy marriage part 3

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: new hope blossoms and new starts commence

A/n: long time no see people! 😅😅😅 Sorry I went MIA but I got this done and decided to post it. Now I won't give an exact time on when I'll post because now I see I'm a little liar and I don't go through with my word 😶😶

I'm very sorry to leave you all hanging. But here's the last part of happy marriage and I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST Part 1. Part 2

“When I said I will give you a chance to make it up to me, I did not mean you had to follow me and be glued to my side everywhere I go.” You spoke annoyed, lifting up your eyes from the romance book you were currently reading. You had felt Anthony’s gaze centered on you for a few minutes now, you tried to ignore it but it felt so intense it was impossible to.

It was annoying, really, well maybe just a bit endearing, although you’ll fiercely deny it if anybody mentions it. Anthony really seemed to be trying to earn your forgiveness, he was more attentive than before, more understanding, a little bit more romantic as he now gifts you a bouquet of flowers every single day (something that annoys Lady Bridgerton as the maids cannot seem to find any more empty vases). But it was annoying that he seemed to follow you wherever you went.

A walk around the garden? Antony was walking behind you. You sit down in the drawing room to read a book? Anthony was seated next to you before you could even blink. A ball? He would always pull you into dances, something you couldn’t deny him of. Annoying, very annoying (You secretly love it, don’t lie to yourself).

“I know,” Anthony responded, meeting your eyes without any shame, “I do not mind following you around, it is quite…..fascinating, to be in your presence that is.”

You held back the blush wanting to come on to your cheeks at his words “Surprised you are just now figuring that out” You said, flickering your eyes back down to your book, pretending his words did not affect you in any way when the truth was that they did. “You know, it is not too late to give up now. You will not have my forgiveness from one day to the next.”

It was hard not to forgive him in an instant whenever he spoke sweet words, no matter how much you wanted to deny it, you still loved him, deeply. But the reminder of how much he hurt you and how much you cried over him washed away any sudden desire to forgive him. He had to work hard to earn your forgiveness, it’s not something you’ll give away easily towards him, not this time.

Anthony wasn’t deterred by your words, “There is something us Bridgertons are, and that is that we are stubborn, so i will not rest until I have fully earn your forgiveness, you have my word.” He said as he stood up, determination filling his words “Gather much patience and indifference as you can, darling, because I am going to be by your side until I succeed and I can see you are not as unaffected as you try to appear to be” He then turned around to walk out of the drawing room

“There is another thing I am bargaining for,” He stopped before he exited the room “and that is to earn back your love….no matter how long it takes” he said shamelessly before finally walking out

You swallowed harshly, your heart beating fast in your chest as you fully took in his words and the promise in them. You exhaled shakily, feelings you did not want to feel ever again trying to resurface. It is both horrible and amazing how much he affects you, whether he said cruel or sweet words, your traitorous heart always seems to beat faster to no one but him.

He felt so idiotic. For the first time in his entire life, Anthony felt like the dumbest person in the whole wide world. He could see it, he could see how much he actually hurt you. You were distant towards him, cold even, your eyes didn’t have that sparkle in them whenever you saw him, nor did you bend over trying to fulfill his every wish, not that he wanted you to, but there was this pain in your eyes, this hurt when your eyes met his which made him feel so guilty and dumb.

There is this saying that goes, you never know what you have until you lost it. Anthony felt like that. You was an amazing person and he felt like the dumbest person alive to not have realized that sooner. His mother was right from the start, you really are the perfect viscountess , the perfect woman….the only woman for him.

His only relief is that the pain that he previously saw in your eyes decreases with the time he spends with you. It gave him hope and he will not rest until that pain disappears completely and your eyes once again reflect love in them when you see him.

“Y/n” His face lights up, eyes flickering up when he heard your name, standing up from his seat as he saw you enter the dining room with a plate full of cookies, his reaction not unnoticed by his mother who hid her smile pretending to take a sip out of her glass of wine.

“Y/n,” Anthony said taking a step towards you before stopping and instead pulling out your unofficial assigned chair (which is coincidentally besides him, wink wink), one you haven’t sat on since your marriage crumbled.

You sit down on the chair, silently thanking him with a nod of your head “I made some cookies, they’re recently baked so they might be hot” You smiled, putting the plate in the middle of the table “I-“

“You didn’t have to.” Anthony said breathlessly, the thought that you accepted his gesture and was so close to him making his heart beat quickly, it felt as if it would snap right out of his chest. You were not completely ignoring him…

“I know, I wanted to” You say with a nod

“They look delicious.” Anthony said, not knowing what else to say to you, suddenly feeling as if he couldn’t muster up any idea on what to say to keep the conversation going.

“I hope that they are” You answer

“I am sure anything you make is amazing,” He said with a smile

You blink, now you were the one speechless “Thanks….I guess?” you say awkwardly. You heard Benedict chuckle from beside you, you turned to face him, giving him a glare.

“Ah no, do not mind me” Benedict uttered, taking a sip from his cup of wine “Pretend I’m not here, I just remembered something funny and it made me laugh”

You scoffed before standing up from your seat “I have to go get ready for the opera” you said “do not follow me” you uttered once you saw Anthony moving to stand up as well

“but I- I can-“ he groaned when he saw you leaving without another glance

“Anthony, go call Y/n and Hyacinth , the carriage is almost here” Violet Bridgerton told her son as she looked out the window

“No need” You spoke as you walked down the stairs, Hyacinth not far behind you

You let out a breath as you reached the ground floor, Anthony’s gaze immediately found yours as you descended the stairs. His eyes lit up, as though seeing you for the first time that evening, his breath catching slightly at the sight of you. You wore a gown of deep sapphire, its elegant lines flattering your figure without drawing too much attention, and yet, to Anthony, you might as well have been the only person in the room.

“Y/n…” He murmured, his tone soft, almost reverent. The man you had once known to be brash and commanding now seemed utterly captivated by your every movement. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so infuriatingly persistent.

“You look beautiful,” he added, his voice lower now, as if it was meant only for you.

You offered him a polite smile, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Thank you, Anthony.”

Hyacinth grinned mischievously from behind you, clearly picking up on the tension between you two. “Anthony’s been quite eager about the opera all week,” she teased as she passed by, giving her brother a sly look.

Anthony’s expression shifted into something more sheepish, a rare sight indeed. “Only because I knew you’d be there,” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You sighed inwardly. This was all part of his effort to win you back, but he couldn’t just charm his way through everything. Not after the pain he had caused. There was a deep well of hurt beneath your composed exterior, and no amount of flowery words or pretty compliments could erase it. You had promised yourself that if he truly wanted your forgiveness, he would have to work for it. He would have to see the depths of the damage he had inflicted.

“Let’s just get going,” you said softly, already moving toward the door where the carriage waited.

The opera house was a grand affair, as always. Chandeliers glittered overhead, the rich burgundy of the velvet curtains creating an opulent backdrop for the night’s performance. People dressed in their finest milled about, awaiting the start of the show, their chatter filling the air like a soft hum.

You took your seat next to Anthony, and despite the large crowd, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. As the lights dimmed and the first notes of the opera began to play, Anthony leaned slightly toward you.

“I’ve never quite appreciated music as I do now,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft overture. His eyes, however, were not on the stage but on you.

You didn’t respond, focusing your attention on the performance. Sienna Rosso, the opera singer he had an affair with, had a voice that could command any room, but tonight, it seemed Anthony was deaf to it. His gaze never left you, even as the area swelled with emotion, which completely surprised you.

Throughout the performance, he remained close, his presence a constant reminder of the promises he had made. When Sienna reached a particularly moving part of her song, you noticed Anthony’s hand briefly brush against yours where it rested on the armrest. You quickly pulled your hand away, not wanting to give him any more satisfaction than necessary. The corner of his mouth twitched in what you could only describe as amusement, but he didn’t push further.

After the opera ended, and the crowd began to file out, you overheard murmurs from others in the audience. Most were compliments on the performance, but a few curious glances and whispers were directed toward you and Anthony.

“It seems Viscount Bridgerton is quite taken with his wife these days,” one woman said to her companion, not too far from where you stood. “He didn’t take his eyes off her once.”

You pretended not to hear them, but the words echoed in your mind as you followed Anthony outside. His devotion was clear, and while part of you appreciated his efforts, another part still held back.

The days that followed were filled with Anthony’s persistent attempts to be near you. He insisted on accompanying you during your walks in the gardens, even if you would rather enjoy the peace and quiet alone. You often found him sitting in the drawing room whenever you tried to read, as if his presence had become a permanent fixture in your life.

One morning, you entered the drawing room with your favorite book, intent on having a quiet moment to yourself. To no surprise, Anthony was already seated by the window, reading through some documents. His head lifted the moment you walked in.

“You don’t always have to be here, you know,” you said, trying to sound indifferent as you sat down with your book. You felt a sense of déjà vu as you remembered you said almost the exact thing days ago.

“I know,” Anthony replied, not looking up from his papers. “But I want to be.”

You shook your head slightly, unsure whether to be frustrated or touched by his relentless presence.

As time passed, Anthony’s efforts didn’t wane. Instead, they became more thoughtful, more personal. He began to ask about the things you can loved—books, music, even the small hobbies you indulged in. One day, he found you at the piano, quietly playing a familiar melody.

“I didn’t know you played,” he said softly, standing by the doorway as he watched you.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, not looking up from the keys.

Anthony stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “Then let me learn.”

For a moment, you stopped playing and turned to him. His gaze was sincere, and for the first time, you saw just how much he truly wanted to understand you, not just win back your favor. There was a quiet desperation in his eyes—a longing to connect in a way that went beyond mere apologies.

“I’m not the same person I was before, Anthony,” you said softly. “And neither are you.”

He knelt beside the piano bench, his hand resting lightly on the edge. “I know. But that doesn’t change how much I want to be the man who deserves you.”

Anthony’s devotion became even more apparent during the next ball. You had agreed to attend, mostly to maintain appearances, but you had no intention of dancing with him. Yet, as the evening wore on, you found yourself in his arms once again, moving to the rhythm of the music.

The anticipation of the evening bubbling inside you. You’d worn your best gown—an elegant shade of deep emerald green that complemented your complexion beautifully, with delicate lace detailing that caught the light as you moved.

As you stepped into the grand hall, the chandeliers glimmered above, and the soft murmur of conversations created a symphony of excitement. You could already see a few familiar faces, including Anthony’s, who was talking animatedly with Benedict. As your eyes caught his, a smile crept onto his face, and it sent an unexpected flutter through your chest.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as you approached him. There was a sincerity in his tone that made your heart race.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your composure. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Viscount Bridgerton.”

“You’ve really been making an effort, haven’t you?” you remarked, genuinely curious.

“I have,” he replied earnestly. “I realized how much I took for granted, and I want to change that. I want to understand you better, to show you how much you mean to me.”

His words stirred something deep within you. It was a mixture of hope and caution, the remnants of your heart still wary. “It’s going to take time,” you reminded him gently.

“I’m willing to wait,” he said, his voice firm yet tender.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories, a tentative but genuine connection beginning to weave itself between you. Over the following weeks, Anthony continued his pursuit, each small gesture a reminder of his commitment. He would bring you books he thought you’d enjoy, spend afternoons listening to you play the piano, and even sought you out during family gatherings, always ensuring you were included.

During one particularly memorable evening at a ball, Anthony once again swept you into a dance. The music flowed around you, and with each turn, he whispered sweet nothings, his breath warm against your ear. “You look breathtaking tonight,” he murmured, pulling you closer.

“Flattery again?” you teased, but the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you.

“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth,” he replied, his gaze unwavering.

As the dance continued, a group of gentlemen approached, their laughter echoing with a cruel edge. One stepped forward, a smirk plastered across his face. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Viscount and his precious wife,” he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. “I never thought you’d stoop so low after stepping out on her for that soprano. What a delight to see you back with the real prize. But then again, is she really a prize if you had to search elsewhere?”

The laughter from his companions was sharp and mocking, and your heart sank at their words. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger flooding through you.

Anthony’s demeanor shifted in an instant. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said coolly, his grip on your waist tightening as he moved to lead you away. “Your lack of manners is as appalling as your lack of character.”

“Come now, Anthony. You can’t seriously think anyone would believe you’re happy here,” the gentleman continued, his smirk widening. “After all, we all know your heart is still with that soprano. Poor thing, she wasn’t simply a phase, was she?”

The cruel laughter of the group hung in the air, and you felt the sting of their words cut deep. Anthony’s protective nature surged to the forefront, his expression hardening as he glared at them. “Fun at the expense of another’s feelings is not fun at all,” he retorted, his voice steady but low, a clear warning laced with anger.

You watched in surprise as he stood his ground, the intensity in his gaze unwavering. “You’d do well to remember that she deserves respect, not your mockery.”

As the gentlemen backed off, their laughter fading into awkward silence, you felt a rush of gratitude for Anthony. “Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him. In that moment, you truly saw the man he was becoming,the way he stood up for you, how he was learning to respect your feelings, and the genuine warmth in his eyes. It was as if a veil had lifted, and you could see the sincerity in his actions.

Your heart softened for him, the edges of your hurt beginning to blur. “You’ve really changed,” you added, your voice barely above a whisper. “It means so much to me.”

“Always,” he replied softly, his gaze searching yours. The intensity in his eyes was filled with an unspoken promise, a vow that he would continue to earn your trust and love.

As the evening wore on, you both enjoyed each other’s company, the space around you brimming with laughter and joy. The memory of the cruel words from the gentlemen faded, overshadowed by the warmth that radiated between you and Anthony. With each smile, each shared glance, you could feel the distance between you gradually closing, drawing you closer together.

You gently squeezed Anthony’s hand and leaned in close, your voice barely above a whisper, “Come with me.”

His eyebrows raised in curiosity, but he didn’t hesitate. You led him out of the ballroom, down the halls of the house, until you found a small, secluded alcove at the back of the house—a quiet corner where you could be alone. The air was cooler here, with the faint scent of roses from the garden outside, and the moonlight filtered softly through the window.

Anthony looked at you with concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what was on your mind. “Are you alright?” he asked gently, his voice filled with care.

You nodded, stepping closer to him, feeling your heart pound in your chest. “I’m fine, Anthony. I just… I wanted to talk to you alone.”

He looked nervous, as if he feared what you might say. His eyes flickered between yours, waiting, bracing. You took a deep breath, your fingers still wrapped around his.

“I’ve been thinking,” you started, your voice soft, “about everything that’s happened between us. The pain, the distance… but also, how far you’ve come.” You met his gaze, your heart swelling with the depth of emotion that had been building inside you for months. “You’ve changed, Anthony. Truly. And I can see how hard you’ve worked to prove yourself, not just to me, but to everyone.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched slightly, his brow furrowing as he listened. “I did it for you,” he said quietly, “because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you completely. You mean everything to me, Y/n. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ve regretted it every day since. But I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as his words struck a deep chord within you. He was baring his soul to you but this time, in the privacy of this small, intimate space, it felt even more real—more raw.

You reached up, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble on his jawline. “I know, Anthony. I can see that now.” Your voice wavered slightly, thick with emotion. “And I want to give us another chance.”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering in his gaze, followed by an overwhelming rush of relief. “Y/n… are you sure?” His hand covered yours on his cheek, his thumb caressing your skin as if he was afraid you might disappear.

You nodded, stepping closer until your bodies were almost touching. “I’m sure,” you whispered. “I want to be with you, Anthony. I want to move forward together. No more walls between us.”

A soft breath escaped him, as if he’d been holding it in for far too long. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I love you, Y/n. I’ve always loved you, even when I was too foolish to realize it. You are everything to me. My heart, my soul… I don’t deserve you, but I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret giving me another chance.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of joy, of hope, of finally letting go of the past and embracing the future. “I love you too, Anthony,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Despite everything, I never stopped loving you.”

The moment hung between you, charged with emotion, until Anthony, unable to resist any longer, gently cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, tender, as if he was afraid to push too far. But as your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Years of unspoken feelings, of longing and heartache, melted away in that single, soul-stirring kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together, the weight of the past lifted from your shoulders.

“You’re mine,” Anthony whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m yours, forever.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around you like a blanket. “Forever,” you agreed, your heart full.

Years later, the memory of that night remained vivid in your mind, a turning point in your love story. Life had changed for the better, your marriage growing stronger with each passing day. You and Anthony had built a beautiful life together, filled with laughter, love, and the joy of your growing family.

On sunny afternoons, you would find Anthony in the garden, playing with your children—two boys and a girl—who adored their father with all the fierce love you had once felt when you were a child. He was a different man now, a devoted husband and a doting father, and every day he made good on his promise to you.

One afternoon, as you watched from the porch, you saw Anthony scoop up your youngest daughter, spinning her around as she giggled uncontrollably. Your heart swelled with happiness, and you realized how far the two of you had come. The man who once made mistakes was now the man who never let a day go by without showing you just how much he loved you.

Anthony caught your eye from across the garden, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. He smiled, his eyes filled with the same love and devotion that had been there that night in the alcove, when you decided to give him another chance.

And you knew, deep in your heart, that it had been the best decision you had ever made.

Anthony and his wife are totally different, having an argument with different ideas (maybe she has the same personality as eloise). (but nothing too heavy, probably something funny and cute)

just a lil drabble, hope you like it!

“No, I absolutely agree.” You tell Eloise. The two of you were talking about Lady Whistledowns latest publication, theorizing about who she may be. “She must be a member of the ton, how else would she hear that much gossip?”

Eloise and you got along very well, something Anthony was very happy about. You became Viscountess Bridgerton a little over a year ago, and your entire marriage has been pure bliss. In truth you could see a lot of yourself in Eloise, recognizing the rebellious streak she has. You yourself had nod been keen on the idea of marriage before you met Anthony.

“Her publishings are pure speculation, a gossip monger.” Eloise exclaims. She has been on a hunt to find out who the anonymous writer for the entire season. “I certainly don’t agree with what she publishes, only spreading shame.” You agree before taking a sip of your tea.

The door to the sitting room opens and Anthony appears in the doorway. Eloise begins to speak again but you silently signal for her to stop. You knew your husband wasn’t going to be happy about you speaking with his sister on such topics, or encouraging her search for the writers identity.

Anthony presses a kiss to your forehead and sits down next to you on the sofa. “What were you speaking about? Do not stop your conversation on my account.” He says.

“Nothing at all dearest, lady’s talk.” You assure him while shooting a sly wink to Eloise. “Yes, nothing for you to know about brother.” She almost sighs out, annoyed at her brother interrupting your conversation.

Anthony raises an eyebrow and already knows what the conversation had been about. You got along well, were a lot alike. But maybe a bit too much. “I do not hope you are encouraging Eloise in her search of Lady Whistledown.” He tells you, a bit frustrated to have to tell you yet again.

You had fought about this topic before, but you did not see the harm in the young girl doing something she clearly enjoyed and wasn’t harming anyone. “Eloise, would you excuse us? It seems your brother and I have something to talk about.” You ask the girl, ignoring Anthony’s question.

She nods in answer to your question and exits the sitting room swiftly. You turn to Anthony and frown a bit. “Do we really have to argue on this again? We clearly do not agree on this subject.”

“Eloise should spend her time in a more proper manner. Finding a suitable husband for example, it is your responsibility to guide her into doing as such.” Anthony states as pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

You scoff. “And you believe I am not doing my best? Eloise is a young lady full of fire and fervor. I believe she will find a husband when she feels ready to, we should not pressure her into marriage if she does not feel ready.” The grip on your teacup gets a bit tighter as you feel quite passionately on this subject.

It is your belief that nobody should get married under pressure. Your marriage with Anthony hadn’t been pressured and it turned out very happy.

“I am just saying, she has time. It does not harm anyone that she wants to know who Lady Whistledown is.” You continue, softening your tone a bit to try to convince Anthony.

Your husband sighs and leans back into the sofa. “I know, I am only afraid she will not find a suitable husband in time. That she will become undesirable as time goes on. I only want the best for her.”

“I know you do, but you do not have to hold her back in order to do so my love.” Your tone remains soft and gentle. Anthony nods and pulls you into him a bit. “You’re doing great as a brother Anthony. Do not worry.” You whisper to him.

Everything was going to be alright, and now Anthony realizes that as well.

Day 1: Kate being Kate (Menace)

Anthony Bridgerton was not hiding. He was the Lord of Aubrey Hall and if he so happened to choose to spend his afternoon seated in his office rather than greeting the arriving guests, that was his prerogative. And he really did have work to get done, which was probably why his mother had only put up token protests at his planned absence.

Of course, he was not actually working, but he was not hiding, either, and that seemed the most important point. It honestly wouldn't have mattered if he'd tried. Where could a man hide from his own dreams? There was no escaping his unconscious-- no settling his mind or body because Kate Sheffield was…

Walking in the gardens right outside his window. Of course she was; an apparition made real before his very eyes.

Kate was facing away from him, walking-- marching, really-- toward his mother's flower garden like it was her job. She never glided or moved at a sedate pace like other women of his acquaintance. Kate strode with purpose. Even without her signature dark, thick curly hair and the soft curve of her waist meeting her bottom (the memory of squeezing said bottom being a favorite to torture himself with), Anthony knew he would have recognized her from her gait alone. 

Did he know Edwina's walk? 

The thought came unbidden to his mind and Anthony frowned momentarily. He had walked with her on several occasions and yet he could not say for certain how she moved. Gracefully, he supposed, as the incomparable must. Probably at a benignly moderate pace befitting a genteel woman of her height. Which was about a half of a head shorter than Kate.

Like clockwork his mind was back on Kate again. He couldn't even see her any longer, she'd made it into the no garden near the tulips. Kate was very fond of tulip style sleeves; he wondered absently if she was also partial to the flowers.

Another unbidden thought came into his mind (did Edwina have a preferred style of sleeve?) but he squashed it ruthlessly. That way led to madness. There would be time aplenty to learn all the intricacies and minutiae of his future bride once they were married.

Anthony stood, suddenly restless. It was no good being cooped up indoors when the weather was so fine. A walk through the gardens would be just the thing. And if he happened to run into Kate, the more the better as it would provide him another opportunity to press his suit. 

His mind flashed to the memory of Kate pressed against him and he shook his head emphatically in an attempt to clear it from his mind. Anthony was pursuing Edwina Sheffield not her stubborn, belligerent, appealing menace of an older sister. (The irony that he had decided to quite literally pursue Kate out of doors was not lost on him.)

Still, it was with supreme confidence that Anthony exited Aubrey Hall and stepped into the sunshine-- the kind of confidence peers of the realm always seemed to be in possession of. He would conquer whatever hold Kate Sheffield had over him and marry her perfectly nice, perfectly bland sister simply because that was what he had decided to do.

He just had to find her first...

Day 3: Kate and Newton (Menace)

Kate is interviewing a dog walker. Anthony helps.

Or, for Kate, denial is not just a river in Egypt when it comes to her beloved Newton.

Day 4: Kate and the Bridgertons (Mallet of Death)

Katharine Sheffield walked down the street like she owned it. She was a tall woman-- the heels she wore had her standing easily over six feet. With dark, intelligent eyes that never missed a beat and darker curly hair framing her face, she was striking. Not beautiful exactly but there was something about her.

Colin only met her once but she'd made a strong impression. Judging by the wary look Anthony was giving her, he wasn't the only one who thought that.

"Bridgertons," she nodded once in greeting, "it's been a while."

When Anthony didn't pick up the thread, Colin slapped an obviously fake grin on his face. "Kate. Nearly five years since you testified against me."

Kate smiled back, all sharp edges. "Well, you did steal a painting insured by my employer for several million dollars."

"Allegedly," Anthony interrupted, ever the lawyer.

Kate's gaze jumped to the older brother and narrowed, eyes ice cold. "Allegedly," she repeated dryly.

They stared at each other unblinking for a long moment. "Well, isn't this just a happy reunion..." Colin said in a soto voice.

"Colin," Anthony snapped in a warning tone. He looked back at Kate. "You called for a reason?" he prompted.

Looking a bit like she'd smelled something rotten (and that something was them), Kate nodded. "My company, ARTE Generali, insured a hundred million in non-government Japanese bearer bonds."

Colin whistled. "Samurai bonds. Nice." Two matching glares snapped to his face and he held up his hands innocently. An illusion neither was buying, especially when he decided to ask: "That's a hundred million in yen or U.S. dollars?"

"Dollars," Kate confirmed with an unamused eye roll. No one was calling the FBI over a hundred million yen-- that was pocket change for a company like ARTE Generali.

Head tilted thoughtfully, Colin couldn't help asking, "And what's your cut if you recover them?"

Kate smirked. "Two percent." Colin resisted the urge to whistle again. "Which I only see if we find them, so…" She pulled a manila folder from her bag and handed it to Anthony who immediately flipped it open. "The truck was hijacked in transport, and I think the bonds are somewhere here in New York."

All of the earlier tension seemed to have dissipated as Anthony focused on the business at hand. "Danbury said you believe Nigel Berbrook is involved."

Kate nodded distractedly, something nearby catching her eye.

Anthony handed Colin the file to flip through-- it held pictures of the missing bonds, the truck, Berbrook. "Big international real-estate guy," Colin commented absently as he skimmed the man's biosheet. "He can move them without raising flags."

Kate's sharp gaze cut back to him for a moment. "Yes, he can." She offered another grin that could cut glass. "Excuse me for a moment."

Colin watched as Kate spoke quietly with the valet before glancing surreptitiously at his brother. Anthony looked… well, honestly, Colin wasn't certain what the expression on his brother's face meant. When he turned his gaze back to Kate, she was accepting the keys to an incredibly expensive looking car.

A man in a suit rushed out to the street. "Hey! That's my car! What the hell--?"

"Mr. Hartside, listen to me," Kate said in a confident, no-nonsense tone, "you can change the vin numbers, you can change the grill, the paint-- it's still an Aston Martin Victor. I know because you did not change the electronic vin behind the steering wheel."

The man's face was turning the most interesting magenta color. "You're crazy! You're stealing my car!"

"No, you stole it. I'm taking it back." Hartside reached into his jacket but Kate was faster. She pulled out a baton and made quick work of him, landing her final blow to the shin. Colin winced-- that had to hurt. "You are more than welcome to file a complaint with the FBI," she added, nodding toward them.

Hartside looked at Anthony who was already flashing his badge. "Special Agent Bridgerton, FBI."

The man, whose complexion had made a startling turn from red to white, tried to hurry away despite having been rather effectively hobbled. "This is obviously a misunderstanding. I should…"

Anthony pulled out his cuffs. "You should stop walking and keep your hands where I can see them."

"Yeah, running just annoys him," Colin told Hartside, flashing a charming smile toward his brother. He walked over to Kate who was now leaning against the car watching the arrest with mild interest. "So you're basically a high-class repo person."

Kate's predatory smile returned. "I prefer white-collar bounty hunter."

"Pithy," Anthony grunted as he wrangled Hartside. "Damn it, Kate, do you always have to go for the shins?"

With wide innocent eyes no one who'd witnessed the last five minutes would ever believe, Kate shrugged. "It was my only defense." There was something hard in her tone that hadn't been there before and Colin didn't miss his brother's responding grimace.

Kate pushed herself off the car and pulled a card from her bag. "When you want to talk about that painting, call me." She pressed the card firmly to Colin's chest until he took it but her gaze was on Anthony. "Bridgertons." The corner of her mouth ticked upwards. "Hartside."

She walked around to the open car door, slid inside like she belonged there and drove off. Colin let out a long exhale, relieved she'd left. There was something too perceptive about Katharine Sheffield. She was dangerous.

Day 6: Kate and Anthony (Menace)

After returning Edwina to her chaperoning mother, Anthony was quickly waved over to the refreshments by his younger brother Colin. Standing beside him was a tall dark haired woman Anthony had not met before.

"Brother!" Colin grinned widely-- generally a bad sign for Anthony. "Miss Sheffield and I were just speaking of you."

"Miss… Sheffield," he repeated slowly. 

"Edwina is my younger sister," she said stiffly.

Though she stood a head taller and had more angular features, he could see a familial resemblance around the eyes and nose area. "Ah, yes. The gatekeeper."

This was quite obviously the wrong thing to say. Miss Sheffield's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Excuse me?"

Never one to retreat, Anthony instead doubled down. "Your sister did say she would not marry without your approval, did she not?"

Miss Sheffield raised her brows. "So in this scenario, the gate I am keeping is for becoming betrothed to Edwina?"

"I suppose, yes," Anthony agreed with all the arrogance of a (future) member of the peerage.

"Hmmmph." Somehow Miss Sheffield managed to imbue quite a lot of disapproval into the sound. (It reminded him a bit too much of Lady Danbury, an elderly matron known for speaking her mind freely, wielding a cane with deadly accuracy and whom most of the ton had a very healthy fear of.)

"Brother," Colin spoke up, reminding Anthony he was still standing there, "I have promised Miss Sheffield the next dance. Unfortunately I have just now realized I also promised the dance to Miss Featherington."

Anthony was not feeling particularly charitable at that moment and smiled insincerely in response. "Shall I find Penelope to act as substitute?"

"Nonsense!" Colin waved the suggestion away. "Miss Sheffield is here-- take her to the floor and I shall handle Miss Featherington."

"I am certain the future Viscount is quite in demand," Miss Sheffield sniffed, injecting a remarkable amount of disdain into what should have been a complementary sentiment. "I release you of your obligation."

"No, that will not do!" Colin's charm was out in full force. "I would feel simply terrible if you were forced to sit out because of my inexcusable error."

"Really, I--"

That was enough for Anthony. He actually was quite in demand but being refused by this impertinent chit was raising his hackles. "Come Miss Sheffield," he interrupted, taking her arm none too gently and steering her toward the floor.

When they reached their spot, he turned to face her. Miss Sheffield smirked up at him. "You are going to regret this decision."

"Oh?" Anthony raised his brows. "I am not known for having many regrets."

"Yes, well," she looked away and he might've thought her bashful if she were not standing quite so straight, "I hope you wore thick boots."

Anthony waited until she met his gaze again to respond. "You would not dare."

She smiled a bit ruefully. "Honestly, I could not prevent it if I tried. I am a notoriously terrible dancer."

That startled a laugh from him. "Well then I shall hope my boots are sturdy enough indeed."

As it happened they were not. Oh, they handled Miss Sheffield's missteps well enough but when she stomped on his foot at the close of the dance it was all he could do not to swear aloud. He had, admittedly, baited her but such a juvenile response was shocking. 

Anthony did not escort her from the dancefloor. In truth she swept off before he could offer-- not that he would have after such a display but it still irked him. Instead he limped to where his parents were standing, both looking perplexed, as Colin practically cried with laughter. 

"Did you even dance with Penelope?" Anthony demanded in lieu of a greeting.

Colin couldn't seem to catch his breath, he was wheezing as he nodded.

Violet tutted at the younger brother, while Edmund pulled Anthony toward him. "Is everything all right, son?"

"Fine," he all but growled. Catching his father's startled expression (Anthony rarely had such fits of pique in his presence), he forced himself to take a deep breath. "Fine," he repeated in a calmer tone. He caught sight of Miss Sheffield and felt his neck heat in anger again. "But that woman is a menace."

Edmund spluttered, clearly trying to suppress a laugh of his own. Anthony gave it up as a bad job and excused himself to head to his club. He had had quite enough of the ton for one night.

Day 1: Riding before dawn

She couldn't keep him. Kate knew that.

or

Kate and Anthony have morning sex with a side of angst.

Day 2: Lillies

Kate has a very specific theme to the gifts she gives Anthony. These are five times the Bridgerton siblings noticed said gifts (and the time that started it all).

Day 3: Don't Leave

It was so, so late. Anthony should have been home hours earlier, but he just... couldn't. Kate was already in bed, curled away from his side. His limbs felt clumsy as he tried to quietly undress.

"It's okay, you know." Her voice cut like a knife through the oppressive silence in the room. "You never made me any promises. You don't owe me anything."

It felt like there was a vice in his chest squeezing impossibly tight.

"This is your home," she continued, clearly oblivious to his misery, "I never want you to feel like you can't be here. I can always stay with Ed or Mary--"

"No," it sounded as strangled as he felt. "You don't have to leave."

Kate let out a quiet huff. "I know that I don't have to, but I--"

Anthony cut her off again. "Please don't. I… I want you to stay."

The silence stretched out between them for an impossibly long time.

"Okay," she said finally but something was off in her tone. "Now come to bed. It's late and we both have early mornings."

Anthony did as he was told but the vice refused to loosen. Sleep was elusive that night.

Day 4: He is YOUR dog

Suddenly Hyacinth was in front of him, tugging his sleeve. "Anthony, there is a dog!"

"Hmm?" His eyes followed her pointing to a rotund corgi on a lead that was held by… Miss Sheffield. As if his mind had conjured her. 

Anthony swallowed reflexively. Her head was tilted back, allowing the sun to warm her face. She was wearing deep purple today and was, naturally, as striking as ever. 

"Please may we say hello to the dog?" Hyacinth asked eagerly. "Please, please!" Gregory appeared more interested in the owner than the dog but Anthony decided not to dwell on that, for both their sakes.

There was nothing for it. He'd have no peace either way but at least if they said hello he wouldn't have sullen children on his hands, too. "I think that is a question better directed to his owner. Shall we ask Miss Sheffield?"

That was all the encouragement the young Bridgertons needed. They raced off enthusiastically with Anthony and Nanny following quickly behind, the latter scolding them to walk like ladies and gentlemen. (A bit of a tall order given their ages.)

By the time Anthony arrived, his siblings were foisting a truly spectacular amount of attention upon Miss Sheffield's corgi. He nodded his greeting and she returned it with a curtsey. "Did they at least introduce themselves?" he asked, expression doubtful.

"I believe they were overcome, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiled indulgently toward the youngsters and he had the terrifying thought that she would make a wonderful mother someday. Her expression became tense when she looked at him again. "They are your..?"

"Siblings," he confirmed. 

Only Gregory acknowledged him, waving shyly. "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Sheffield," he said politely, flushed. 

"And I yours, Mr. Bridgerton," she replied kindly.

Face now fully pink, Gregory muttered something and turned toward the dog. (Overcome indeed.)

There was a long stretch of silence between them that was not precisely comfortable as the pinched look had returned to Miss Sheffield's face. Anthony cast about for something to say that wasn't inane smalltalk. (He had never had the patience for that.) Looking again at his happy family, inspiration finally struck. "Will you not introduce me to your companion?" 

She let out a startled laugh. Well, it was more of an amused huff but Anthony was pleased all the same. "If you wish. This is Newton." The corgi, who had been on his back accepting belly rubs, perked up at his name. The corners of her mouth lifted into a fond smile. "He is an excellent judge of character."

Anthony suspected he had a very similar look on his face. "So he is."

Day 6: Viscountess

"I was going to ask you to marry me."

Kate stopped breathing. "What?"

"I was going to ask for your hand. I even picked out a ring– it's in my quarters but I can get it if you–"

Kate shook her head. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you going to propose?"

Anthony frowned. "Because it makes sense, I suppose. You need money for Edwina's season, I need a wife. We have good conversation, shared values, undeniable chemistry. And I have every confidence you will be an excellent Viscountess."

"What about love?"

"I never planned on marrying for love and neither did you."

Kate felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. The straightforward manner in which he spoke told her everything she needed to know. While she had been falling in love with him, he had felt none of those feelings.

Day 7: Aubrey Hall

Seeing Aubrey Hall brings into sharp relief what a lady author meant in her descriptions of another great estate.

Day 5 (super late): Do you want me to reconsider?

"When all's said and done, all roads lead to the same end. So it's not so much which road you take, as how you take it." - Charles de Lint

or

Four conversations Kate and Anthony did not have and one they might've.

"Because fate has a funny way of mending things back together. I mean you are here and I am here, and we’ll find each other again, that is, if that’s the way it’s supposed to be." - R.M Drake

or

What if Anthony didn't return after he was spooked by Kate? A TVWLM second chances modern AU.

Day 1: "You have no idea who I am, do you?" (Enemies to Lovers)

When famous actor Anthony Bridgerton makes a terrible impression on human rights lawyer Kate Sharma at a party celebrating her model sister it shouldn't matter. It doesn't matter. Until he expresses an interest in her barely legal model sister, that is.

or

Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma definitely aren't George and Amal Clooney.

Day 2: "Want to find out what we can get away with before someone comes looking for us?" (Trusty Sidekick)

Anthony manages to make a second impression without even being present. It's not much better than the first.

Day 3: "You have no idea how much I want you." (Barista AU)

Anthony and Kate keep running into each other. One of them is more unhappy about it than the other.

Day 4: "People are staring at us." (Damsel in Distress)

Kate and Anthony decide to run into each other on purpose. It goes well until it doesn't.

TW: mild head injury

Day 4: "It does not matter what I want."

"You left. You. I wanted to talk! I wanted to work it out. You left, and you didn't seem to want to come back, so I let you go. Why are you being such a jackass? I gave you what you wanted!"

"You think this is what I wanted? I asked you for time but no. Impatient Kate always has to have it her way–"

"Over. The. Line." She took a long deep breath through her nose. "Anthony. I was not about to wait around for a guy who didn't love me to maybe come home."

He recoiled visibly. "What?"

"We were literally a lusty cliche, getting married while shitfaced in Vegas. I get that you didn't want the annulment scandal, and, honestly, I thought I'd be okay with your whole deal, but I'm not like you. I can't compartmentalize and act like I love someone and not have it mean anything. All the flowers and kindness and the press eating it up one day, then cold silence and mocking looks the next. It was suffocating. And then you left when you promised you would be there. 'It can't be love but I'll always take care of you.' Remember? I felt so fucking stupid. How could I stay?"

"I came back," he argued weakly. "I came back to tell you…" He looked at her standing tall, eyebrows high on her forehead. Then he saw her lip wobble ever so slightly– a chink in her armor.

On instinct he stepped toward her, wrapping one hand around the back of her neck. His other hand rested on her waist, holding her gently. When their lips were a hair's breadth away, she stilled. "I need to hear you say it, Anthony. Please."

"I–" The words caught in his throat.

The silence stretched between them and Kate tensed. She stepped back. Her eyes were shining as she looked at him. "Good-bye, Anthony."

At least this time she said it to his face. Maybe that would be enough.

Day 1: Midnight at the library

Anthony quite literally stumbled over her in the library. "Shit, sorry–" He realized who it was huddled in a ball. "Kate?"

"Bridgerton," she choked out. Her breathing was shallow and there were tears running down her face. It was obvious to Anthony that she was having a panic attack.

He crouched beside her, a hand reaching toward her before he froze. "Can I touch you?" He winced at how that sounded. "Nothing weird! Just– my sister Eloise found it comforting."

Eloise was the one with their father when he died of anaphylaxis almost five years earlier. She'd been five and nearly inconsolable for weeks. The panic attacks started a couple of months later and Anthony, dutiful older brother just trying to lessen his mom's burden, learned everything he could about how to support her.

Kate nodded shakily and Anthony dropped down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm in a comforting pattern. She leaned into him heavily, breathing ragged. After a moment, she spoke again, "Can you talk to me? Please?" Her voice was hesitant and so small– not right for her at all.

"I never wanted to date your sister," Anthony blurted out. In his defense, it was the first thing that came to mind. He dropped his head back against the bookshelves hard but kept talking. "You were acting so unaffected and ignoring me and I wanted–" What? Her attention? His neck and ears heated with embarrassment. "I don't know, to get a response, I guess, but I took it too far and I'm sorry.

There was a long moment between them where the only sound was her breathing. "I'm sorry too," Kate admitted, voice still quiet but stronger. "I know I overreacted. You're not even Eddy's type."

"Please, I'm everyone's type."

"Trust me, you're not." She snuggled a little closer. "Tell me about your family."

"Well, I have seven younger siblings. My mom has an event planning business we all help with on weekends."

"What about your dad?"

"He died when I was thirteen. It was really sudden."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Mine died a couple years ago too. Cancer."

"Sucks."

"Yeah." The grief was palpable. Suffocating. Thankfully Kate broke it, "What was your dad like?"

"He was the best. He loved us all so much. He worked hard but also made time for each of us individually. I didn't mention but there's two sets of twins in the family and he would always make sure each got their own time and attention." Anthony closed his eyes. "I hate that Hyacinth, she's the youngest, never got to meet him. It's so unfair."

"It is," Kate agreed, "but at least she has the rest of you. When you never knew a parent… you don't miss them like we miss our dads. It's more like being told a story you can never truly understand. If they loved horses, you wonder if you would've done equestrian or if you might've vacationed at a dude ranch instead of the beach." It was as if she could sense the silent question Anthony didn't dare ask. "My mum died when I was three. Car accident during a storm– I was in the backseat. Mary, Eddy's mum, is my guardian now."

"I, uh… I didn't know that."

Kate shrugged a little self-consciously. "Why would you? Mary's the best, though. She's basically my mom."

Her breathing seemed to be back to normal, so Anthony untangled himself from her. "Here, let me just–" He went to the librarian desk and grabbed several tissues.

He handed them to Kate when he returned and she wiped her face. "How do I look?"

Her eyes were still red and her eyeliner was smeared but the only word that came to mind was striking and Anthony knew better than to say that. "Maybe wash your face before next period," he suggested with a lopsided smile. He offered her a hand to help her off the floor.

Kate accepted his help with a small thanks. He tried to shrug it off but she shook her head. "No, seriously– thank you. You didn't have to be so nice."

And all he could think was that it'd never occurred to him to do anything else.