#Katexanthonyweek21

[kateanthonyweek]

🌷 A Kate and Anthony relationship timeline🌷

A gift for all of us by @iris_bee_ !! Go check out what she's been doing for 🐝 Kate and Anthony Week 🐝 over there!!

Today's poll is very close, so make sure to vote for your favourite Kathony make out spot!! 🥰

[coveredinbees]

Kate x Anthony Week

Day 4: Favourite Kate Quote

If she had seemed uncomfortable before, her bearing now turned downright hostile. And Anthony realised with a mental slap that he'd said exactly the wrong thing.

Of course he should not have compared her to her sister. It was the one compliment she could never have believed.

"And you, Lord Bridgerton," she replied in a tone that could have frozen champagne, "are almost as handsome as your brother."

Colin:

[harmonizingsunsets]

It might be foolish, but you got me all soft

Read on Archive here.

Kate's nose crinkles as she watches Penelope and Colin. Their feet dance with one another underneath the table. He leans over, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle. Their smiles are brighter than the fluorescent lights of the coffee shop. Watching them is almost blinding.

"You guys are so cute," Kate observes with puckered lips. "I hate that."

Penelope turns to Kate with a bemused expression. "No, you don't. You love us."

"Love isn't the word coming to mind. Nauseated is more like it."

"Kate, everyone finds us adorable," Colin insists, wrapping an arm around Penelope. "It's not a matter of opinion. It's just a fact."

"I'm happy for you two. Honestly, I am. But you're acting so lovey-dovey and sweet that it makes my teeth ache," Kate jokes, picking up her coffee for a sip.

"If we make your teeth ache, then you and Anthony cause cavities," Colin mutters.

Kate chokes a little on her mocha, causing a few patrons to give her odd looks.

"Excuse me?"

"Colin, we talked about this," Penelope says through gritted teeth, shooting him a disapproving look.

"No, you talked about how we weren't supposed to say anything because they're both so jumpy about it, but I disagreed," Colin protests. "Someone needs to open their eyes."

"Hello, I'm still right in front of you," Kate says, waving her hands at them. "Open my eyes to what?"

Colin and Penelope argue with their eyes for a few moments before Penelope cracks, nodding. Colin turns to Kate with a sly grin.

"That you're in love with my brother."

It was a good thing she wasn't drinking that time, or she'd have to spit her coffee all over them. Although, perhaps a spritz of hot coffee would wipe the amusement off of Colin's face.

Kate feels her cheeks heat. She opens her mouth, but only incomprehensible protesting sounds come out.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Colin says, his smile turning softer. "He loves you too."

"That is not true," Kate insists, standing up straighter in her chair. "I don't love him, and he certainly doesn't love me. Right, Penelope?"

When Kate turns to Penelope, the friend she usually can rely on for back-up is instead chewing her lower lip.

"Well...."

"Pen!"

"I'm sorry, but Kate, Colin's right," Penelope says, the words rushing out guiltily. "I write romance books for a living. I know the enemies to lovers trope very well, and you two embody it."

"That's ridiculous!" Kate exclaims, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. "We drive each other crazy. I mean, we've become better friends over the past few months—but it's not like that."

Penelope tilts her head. "Would it be so bad if it was?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

A hundred reasons that Kate could never utter go through her mind. She wants to say, "Anthony dates pop singers and models, and I can't live up to that." Or she could confess, "When he looks at me a beat too long, I feel like I could combust from the weight of it." Most of all, Kate wants to say, "If I let myself love him, I know that I'll never be able to stop."

But she can't tell them any of that. Kate had been just fine about the prospect of being alone. She's satisfied with her career, family, and friends. But if she admits that she loves him, then she'll never be content with any life that doesn't include him in it.

No matter what Colin and Penelope think, Anthony doesn't love her. He can't. Letting herself hope that he does is too dangerous. It scares her more than any thunderstorm she's ever endured.

"I have to go," Kate murmurs, standing up numbly from the table.

"Kate, wait," Colin says, grabbing onto her arm. He looks apologetic, and it's impossible to be upset when looking into his puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," Kate insists with a thin smile, tugging her arm away from his grasp. "I got to go. Have a nice evening."

As she walks out of the coffee shop, she hears a cheesy pop tune about love play on their radio.

The lyrics inspire Anthony's face to surface in her mind.

Kate groans, knowing she's in deep trouble.

That night, she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed but couldn't stop hearing Anthony's teasing voice in her head.

In a huff, Kate gets out of bed and quickly puts on her clothes. She debates whether to reapply makeup but decides against it. No one else will see her where she was going.

Luckily, she's friends with the security guard, who let her inside the building that turned off the lights twenty minutes prior. She thanks him and hastily goes to her office, turning on the light and booting up the computer at her desk.

If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well get some work done.

For a while, all that she hears is the sound of her keys as she typed and the soft hum of music she'd put on to work.

She thought she'd be safe listening to music without lyrics. But Anthony creeps into every note, every chord, and every song.

Just as Kate lowers her head to beat it against the table in frustration, a knock on her door causes her body to jolt upright.

She stands from her chair slowly, walking to the door with caution. No one else would be here this late, so she fears what was on the other side of the door. But if someone was there to hurt her, why would they bother knocking on an unlocked door?

When Kate turns the knob, she sees the face of the man who's been haunting her thoughts for the past few hours (longer than that, if she was honest with herself).

"Hey, what are you doing here so late?" Anthony asks.

"Um, working."

Anthony scans her with curiosity. "On a Sunday?"

"So are you," she points out, crossing her arms.

He holds up a black leather journal. "Actually, I just came by the office for my phone book."

"You have a phone book? Anthony, there's a reason for that contact list on your phone."

"I like writing it down," he defends, looking affronted.

"But you can't add emojis, which adds personality to someone's contact." Kate pulls out her phone and holds out the contacts for him to see. "Edwina has two pink hearts, Penelope has a book, Benedict has an easel, and you have a fire emoji."

"Why do I have a fire emoji?"

"Because you make me want to set things on fire, of course."

Anthony smirks. "Well, next time we play that 'who's most likely to' game in the office, I'll be sure to put you down for becoming an arsonist."

Kate smiles at him, and they fall into one of those moments that's becoming more frequent between them—ones where his body seems to close, and his eyes gleam with something she can't name but feels a kindred sensation within her heart.

Kate takes a step back from him. "Why did you need your phone book so late, anyway?"

Anthony itches behind his ear. Kate frowns, as it's a nervous tick she's never seen from him before. Anthony, like fire, was all-consuming. His feelings were as hot as flames and easy to detect. But now, he looks more guarded, his eyebrows scrunched and his posture squirmish.

"Anthony?" she asks again.

Anthony takes a deep breath. "Well, I actually needed it to call you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. My phone hasn't been working since I went out on the boat with Simon. The bloody idiot knocked it onto the water," he grumbles. "I got a new phone and need to add my contacts back on, which is why I'm lucky I have this phone book which you mocked me for having."

Kate rolls her eyes. "What did you need to call me about?"

"Well, I know we had a rocky start to our relationship—."

"Because you hit on my sister?" she asks, arching her brow.

"I did not hit on her. I merely danced with her at the Christmas party," Anthony corrects with an exasperated sigh. "How many times are we going to argue about this?"

"Until you admit I'm right."

"It'll take a long time for that to happen."

"I've got plenty of time to spend with you."

As soon as those words are out, that heat radiating from Anthony's fire feels warmer. It's as if more time with her is exactly what he wants.

But Kate doesn't let those thoughts get far. She squashes them before they can take root in her mind.

"Continue," Kate tells him.

"Yes, well, as I was saying, we didn't start on the right foot. But, over these past few months, I feel like we've become friends." He looks at her with a hesitant kind of hope. "We have, haven't we?"

Kate smiles. "Yes, we have."

"So, I thought as my friend. You'd like to come with me to this."

Anthony draws two tickets from his pocket and holds one out to her. Kate takes it from in, and her eyes widen as she reads what's on the paper.

"The Vitamin String Quartet?"

"I know you listen to them to relax. I saw that they were touring and coming to London, so I thought that—." His words suddenly halt, tilting his head at her curiously. "What?"

Kate blinks in confusion. "What do you mean 'what?'"

Anthony points at her face. "You were looking at me all funny."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! You were looking at me like this."

Anthony imitates a soft-looking expression, gazing at her with an affectionate smile. Kate, in horror, realizes she had been looking at him like that.

"Shut up," Kate scoffs, nudging his arm and hoping it distracts from the blush on her face. "Like I'd ever look at you like that."

"If you're going to be mean, I won't give you the ticket."

He reaches over, but she pulls her hand back.

"Fine, I'm sorry," Kate says, looking down at the ticket in awe. "This is really nice of you."

"So, you'll go with me?"

"Of course I will," she nods, beaming in excitement.

Anthony releases a breath. "Good."

He begins to back out of her office, but she steps forward from her desk, grabbing his arm.

"Anthony?"

He turns. "Yes?"

Before she can second guess herself, she leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. When she pulls back, it takes a few seconds for his eyes to open, as if he thinks she's a figment of his imagination that will disappear.

"Thank you," Kate whispers.

Anthony nods, giving her a kind smile before leaving her office.

The music on her computer is still playing. Kate hears the gentle notes of a piano, cautious and optimistic-sounding.

The night had been amazing.

The quartet performed beautifully. They played orchestrational versions of pop songs, which makes Kate feel less guilty about listening to them.

She worried when Anthony said he'd never heard any of their music himself, that he wouldn't enjoy it. But when the concert started, she kept stealing glances out of the corner of her eyes. She saw him watching the players with a content expression.

However, the music didn't help her much with her newfound Anthony problem. When she closed her eyes, the violins sang his name. When his hand grazed hers on the armrest of the chair, the music swelled in tandem with her heart.

He was a song she couldn't get out of her head.

And the worst part was, it was a tune she didn't think she'd ever tire of hearing.

They bantered a bit about the weather while waiting for their Uber. Kate claimed the night was perfectly brisk, not enough to warrant a coat. Anthony, however, disagreed. He poked at the goosebumps on her arm as proof and insisted she take his jacket. She eventually relented, letting him drape his jacket over her shoulders.

When he looked away to wave at the car they'd been waiting for, Kate turned her nose to the jacket. She smelt the scent of amber, sandalwood, and something that was discernibly Anthony.

When they get into the back seat of the car, Anthony turns to her. "Can you believe that couple who sat in front of us?"

"I know! They were all over each other the whole night."

"Music is the food of love, but couldn't they have got the meal before the concert?"

"You'd think," Kate huffs, curling her fists further into his sleeves for warmth. She looks back at him, offering a smile. "I had a really nice time."

"I'm glad," Anthony nods. He swallows nervously, forcing himself to meet her eyes. When he does, Kate sees a raw vulnerability glistening in them. "I just wanted to make you happy."

She bumps her shoulder against his. "You do that by just being you."

Kate's words skim a cello string, creating a deep note that lingers in the air. Something flickers in Anthony's expression, his gaze steadying on her. Suddenly, it's harder for Kate to breathe.

"Look at us, acting like that couple," Kate jokes, trying to ease the tension. "The music must be getting to us too."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Anthony hums, moving a fraction closer to her. "Because right now, I feel this urge to put my arm around you."

Anthony gives in to the feeling, putting an arm around her back. Kate's breath hitches as his thumb rubs circles on her arm. Even through the material of Anthony's jacket, his fingertips send electric shocks to her skin.

"And I want to lean my head right here," she finds herself saying, resting her head on top of his shoulder.

"I want to tuck this strand of hair behind your ear.”

Kate feels his fingers skim against his cheek, gently moving a curl that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Her breath quickens, slowly turning her eyes up at him, and the look he's giving her is overwhelming.

"This is all so ridiculously stereotypical. You make me feel so—so..." Kate's words drift, unable to finish her sentence. Her tongue goes out to wet her lips that suddenly feel dry. "I hate it."

Anthony's index finger goes to her chin, tilting it up and off of his shoulder. "Do you hate this?"

He leans forward, kissing her so sweet and tenderly that she knows if she were standing, her foot would pop up like all of those delusionally romantic heroines in movies do when they kiss.

She gets lost in him. Her hands go up to cup his cheek as she deepens the kiss. Anthony's arm moves from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He swallows her gasp, and Kate hears a cacophony of melodies in her mind.

Kate doesn't know how long they stay wrapped in another's arms. It's only when the driver clears his throat that she realizes the car had come to a stop.

They jump apart, and Anthony gives the driver an uncomfortable nod. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," he says gruffly and mutters something about "just wait till you have kids, it won't be like this" as they get out of the car.

They stand awkwardly on the street for a few seconds. Kate looks around them. The vivid leaves of the trees stand out amongst the darkness of the night.

Kate remembers when she first met Anthony. It'd been fall, and the trees were bare with leaves littering the ground. It had felt fitting. Back then, her publishing company announced that they were joining one of their competitors. She had to work with Anthony, as they were both the top production editors of the separate companies. Like the leaves, it felt like everything was falling apart. Every smirk or retort of Anthony's felt like the leaves blowing chaotically in the wind.

But now, the trees were alive again, flooding with color. Kate's at the dawn of a new season with Anthony. It's something as inevitable as the change of weather but as everlasting as the stars above them.

No—stars eventually burn out. Kate thinks that whatever is between her and Anthony will continue to burn when all other flames dim.

"So, that happened," Kate says, breaking the silence.

Anthony takes a cautious step towards her. "Yeah, it did."

"I didn't hate it," she shrugs with a teasing tilt of her lips.

"Wow, what great appraisal. Can I list you as a reference for giving me such a raving review?"

"Excuse me, who else are you planning to apply with?"

"No one, I'm quite satisfied with my employment with you," he assures smugly, his hand going up to her cheek. "But, I'd like to have a slight promotion in my position."

Kate leans into his touch. "Oh really, what position do you want to fill?"

"Well, I think I've done everything that I can in the enemy job. I've enjoyed the friend's position. But, if the boyfriend position is available, I'd like to submit my candidacy."

Kate loops her arms around his neck. "Well, how about we check over your application one more time?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Anthony asks, pressing his lips to her temple. "My education?" he murmurs as he kisses her forehead. "My goals?" Kate sighs as his lips move to the corner of her mouth, and his hand curls around her waist. "My experience?" He kisses her again, and Kate feels his smirk against her lips. "Or, my skills?"

Kate pulls back with a smirk of her own. "How about what drew you to this position?"

His eyes gleam roguishly, looking at the lack of space between them. "This particular position?"

Kate tries her best to give him a stern look. "Anthony."

"You," he answers simply, resting his forehead against hers. "Everything about you."

Kate's unable to stop herself, chuckling softly. "Wow, that's incredibly sappy."

"But it's true."

She takes a deep breath, feeling content and peaceful in his arms. "Maybe being sappy isn't such a bad thing."

"No," Anthony agrees, the corner of his lips tilting up as he studies her intently. "I'm starting to think that it's not."

This time when Kate kisses him, she does it without a single reservation about cliches or stereotypes, or how she would roll her eyes if she saw the two of them on the street.

Kate's foot pops, and the song that's been stuck in her head gets set on an infinite loop.

[starhallows]

What To Call You

Five things Anthony Bridgeton calls Kate Sharma during their lives, and one thing that Kate calls him.

Could be a companion fic to Ring Out The Bells (just change the surname), but there's no need to read that one to understand this one.

Kate and Anthony week, DAY 2: Lovey Dovey

A Menace.

He hadn't even known her for a month and the menace that was Katharine Sharma had already caused him more grievance than any other woman he had ever met. Anthony was only partly willing to admit that might be a slight exaggeration. A small one. No. She WAS a menace. The previous night she had stepped on him more than any man would deem bearable. His poor valet was still trying to reverse the concavity she had caused where his big toe had been, and she had had the audacity to tell him he needed thicker boots.

If forced, he would admit that he hadn't made the best impression on the only person that stood in the way of his plans – why Edwina needed her sister's approval to marry anyone was still a mystery to him. And for what? For the approval of a stubborn girl that would quickly fade into the periphery of Anthony’s life once she either left London to become a spinster or married an unlucky fool. Better the latter, since the former gave her ample time to become bored of her simple life and ended up visiting them. No, better Anthony ensured that the absolute menace that was Katharine Sharma got married sooner rather than later.

Then, THEN, she had indirectly made him step into the bloody river. His boots were positively ruined and he had had to spend forever in the hot bathtub just to have a chance of beating the chills. No amount of brandy would warm his bones after the entire ordeal and he had asked his servants to bring out the winter blankets from wherever they kept them. If he felt even minimally sick come morning he would subtly trip her the next time they were close enough.

She was a terrible, horrible, utter menace to society.

So why on God’s good earth had she visited him in his dreams?

His friend.

There was a curious phenomenon that had somehow occurred in Anthony’s life without him truly realising: Katharine Sharma was his friend. Anthony couldn’t really point the exact time nor the place, but, somehow, past the lust, and the desire that he could usually keep under control, there was this gentle fondness for her.

She was smart and witty, and her eyes danced around from one person to the other before murmuring whatever barb had come to her mind. He could see her doing exactly that as she whispered something to Miss Featherington on the other side of the room. Whatever Penelope had murmured in return had made Kate’s eyes widen and she had barely recovered before her jaw had hit the floor.

Whenever she forgot about the ton or their expectations, that is when Anthony enjoyed her company the most. Those times when she would throw her head back and freed her boisterous laugh. When some rebellious, silky tresses of hair inevitably fell out of whatever style her maids pinned it to and softly tickled the skin of her delicate neck. Those moments when she closed her eyes and looked up to the sky and the shine in her smile would rival the sun. Uninhibited, unbothered and truly happy.

She was absolutely terrible at hiding her facial expressions, so, just like at that moment, the back of her hand was often softly pressed against her pursing lips. Those damned lips that had once felt tendre like velvet under his. She had the horrible habit of nibbling on them every few minutes, overworking the little vessels that provided the blood to fight against the aggression, and hence, turning them the colour of the most delectable of cherries. His thumb longed for the chance to untuck her lips from their prison every time her teeth captured them. He had seen the way she would run a glass of lemonade against them whenever her corner of the ballroom got particularly boring, and how her wicked tongue swept along the smooth skin if the smallest of droplets fell out of place.

Anthony pulled on his cravat and looked away. His friend. Kate. Kate, his friend. His friend, Kate.

Darling

The moniker had fallen out of him before he had realised. Not that it mattered, not really. They were, after all, officially engaged since the announcement had been printed in the Times. It was expected. He was even sure his mother would have encouraged he chose a sweet name for her sooner rather than later.

Kate, darling.

It flowed out of his lips like water on a stream on a fresh spring morning. It was familiar, it was caring, it was sweet. So why wasn’t it right?

It had been the one they had both agreed upon when Kate hadn’t seem to really like the idea of him calling her sweetheart, and come hell or high water he refused to call her dearest. Darling was a wonderful word for one to call one’s fiancée when out in public.

So why wasn’t it right?

Which one was the word he kept searching for but would elude his incessant hunt? Most importantly, why couldn’t Anthony just let it go?

Darling was a splendid word, a nurturing word, a dotting word, gentle and compassionate. Darling was precisely what he needed to call Kate when they were in polite company.

So why didn’t it feel like enough?

Kate

When Anthony had Kate for himself or when they were in the company of those he cared about the most he called her by her given name. None of the silly words used by the world ever feel right, so instead of settling for something that would always feel insufficient, Anthony called her Kate.

It was Kate when she walked in his arm through Hyde Park with Newton’s leash entwined around both their forearms and the round dog happily trotting between them. They stroll along the Serpentine - without incident - one sunny Tuesday afternoon after Anthony had rushed to the house in Milner street after a taxing session in Parliament. It was the highlight of Anthony’s week.

It was Kate when he whispered sweet nothings in the gardens in Bridgerton House after she tugged him away from the parlour before their guests arrived. He wasn’t truly sure what would happen if one of their mothers found them tangled like they were - again - but after the twists and turns of the road that has been paved for them, Anthony doesn’t care.

It was Kate the first time he took her to their house, to their room, and to their bed. When her fingers pulled on his hair and her teeth scraped along his jaw. When she pushed him against the mattress and his hands sparked to life as they grabbed the flesh of her thighs. When the heat became too much even if there was no cloth or fabric to cover them. When the goosebumps on their flesh had nothing to do with the chill of the night. When her eyes sparkled like a million stars in the candlelight room, and he worshipped at her altar between gasps and giggles.

When the thrill of the moment was long gone, and they chuckled into the other’s lips.

It was always Kate

Love

It didn’t even register the first time it happened, Kate just looked down at her book with a beaming smile and he frowned in confusion. He had moved a desk into their room so he could stay close while she recovered. Truly, it would be foolish to work on the other side of their home when it would take ages for her to reach him if she needed anything.

His wife, however, had never been known for her neverending patience or ability to stay still and had been fidgeting in her spot in their bed. When Anthony dropped his papers on his desk for the second time in less than ten minutes, he knew he would have to make a more convincing threat.

“Kate, love, I will tie you to the bed”.

The blinding smile she gave him in return made his heart skip a beat. He turned back to his work and let a low chuckle out as he shook his head. The sun shone on his left hand as he reached for one of the papers, and it dawned on him.

Love.

Any other word would only ever be inadequate, insufficient. He could read a thousand dictionaries from cover to cover and never find a term to call her, more fitting than the one used for the feeling itself. There was no other way to call her.

Shakespeare had wondered what was in a name and Anthony was quite sure that the bard had never found the proper one. Because he had looked high and low trying to find the perfect sweet name to call Kate, and now that he found it he was never letting it go.

“Love?”

“Yes?” she said.

He gave her a little smile as he stood from his desk and made his way to her, “Could you read aloud for me?”

Dear

There was only one word that could make Anthony Bridgerton feel complete terror, and his wife was aware of it. A grown man in his forties, he was never more afraid than when Kate called him dear.

He hated the word.

It usually meant he had done something horribly wrong and he never knew what it was.

He would usually figure it out in a day or two, find a way to right the wrong in a few hours and they would be back to normal in a week, at most. It was different this time, however, and no matter how many lists he wrote or how many people he asked Anthony was clueless.

All his usual tactics had failed him: the flowers he had woken up early to buy for her been abandoned in a vase in the parlour, without a sniff; the box with her favourite sweets had been left in the drawing-room for the boys to wolf down; and when he had tried to show her just how sorry he was for whatever he had done that morning, she had jumped away from him faster than she had in the fifteen years that he had known her.

She opened the door to his study and let made sure it slammed against the wall as she walked in, calendar in hand.

“Well, dear,” she told him with a glare, “my courses are late for the second month”.

Anthony knew that the grin that overtook his face would earn him the moniker for the next entire week, but he cared very little as he jumped around his desk and twirled her in his arms like that time she had nervously walked into his study and told him she was pregnant for the first time.

“I hope we have another girl,” he said, and she punched him in the shoulder.

[bellascarousel]

Jealous? Me? Never!

For Kate and Anthony 2021 Week, Day 1 Prompt: Jealousy and all its cousins

Colin was dancing with Kate Sheffield. Again. Logically, Anthony knew that his brother was just doing what the Bridgerton men were expected to do. He was making sure that every young lady got at least one turn on the dance floor. Granted, it wasn’t as if Kate lacked for dance partners. Men were falling all over themselves trying to curry favor with the elder Miss Sheffield as part of their pursuit of the younger.

Not that any of those men bothered Anthony, in the slightest. He was sure that Kate would call his confidence that Edwina would not turn him down when he proposed arrogance. Honestly, his mother and his sisters would probably agree with her. But, Daphne had already snatched up the only potential suitor that had been more sought after than Anthony was. Well, perhaps if another unmarried prince made an appearance, Anthony would have some serious competition. But, as it stood, he had no reason to worry about the scores of hopefuls who were trying to win Edwina’s hand through charming her sister.

Colin and Benedict were different, though. When they danced with Kate, it wasn’t out of interest in Edwina. And, when one or both of them would put themselves down for more than one dance with her in an evening, it likely wasn’t obligation, or to make their mother happy. It was likely because they genuinely wanted to dance with her. Though, why that should bother him so much, he had absolutely no idea. Nor could he explain the tightness in his chest as he watched how she laughed with genuine mirth at something his brother had said.

He closed his eyes, which turned out to be a mistake. Because without external stimuli, his fevered imagination took over. He found himself bombarded with the memory of Kate in his arms. The taste of her. The feel of her. How desperately he had wanted her. Okay, that was definitely a very dangerous turn for his thoughts to take. If he didn’t find something else to think about, and fast, it would become very obvious that he was imagining one of the young ladies here naked — and very much enjoying the mental image.

His eyes snapped open. This was seriously ridiculous. He should not be standing here, in a damn ballroom, thinking about making love to Kate Sheffield of all people.

“And just who are you staring at so intently?”

Anthony gave a sigh of relief. If anything could calm the storm Kate was creating in him, it was the sound of his mother’s voice. “Keep talking.”

“You haven’t answered my question. And what, exactly, am I supposed to be talking about? What I want to say is that you should ask whichever young lady has you looking like that to dance.” She lowered her voice then, making sure that only he could hear her. “Though, I’m willing to bet that that would only make your current predicament worse.”

“Excuse me?”

His mother had the nerve to laugh at him. “I have eight children, Anthony. Think about that for a minute. Now, consider that while I can’t quite make out who you are staring at — whoever it is, you are looking at her the way your father used to look at me. I do know that look, Anthony. A woman doesn’t conceive eight children and not come to recognize that look.”

That did it. Anthony turned to stare at his mother in horror. “Are we seriously having this conversation, right now?”

The woman actually smirked at him. “You’re welcome. Now, go splash cold water on your face or something. Don’t come back in here until you can be here without worrying about embarrassing yourself. And if that means you going home, I will make your apologies for you.”

Anthony shook his head, but did as he was told. He honestly wasn’t sure which was worse — the thoughts he was having about Kate, or his mother’s method of taking his mind off of those thoughts. Though, he didn’t go splash water on his face. Instead, he just took the out she gave him and headed home.

It didn’t really surprise him when he ended up dreaming of making love to Kate Sheffield that night. It was hardly the first time. And after their encounter in his study, those dreams had become distressingly common. But, at some point in the night, something else occurred to him. He was going to marry Edwina. And once she was off the market and he had provided Kate with a suitable dowry, some man was going to scoop her up. It was ludicrous to think that she would remain a spinster.

Kate would marry. Eventually there would be a man who would do more than dream of her. The tightness in his chest that had been there when watching her dancing and laughing with Colin came back stronger than ever at the thought of someone else being the one to share her bed, to see passion and desire in her eyes. And he was forced to admit to himself just what that tightness was.

Jealousy. God help him, he was jealous. Over Kate bloody Sheffield.

[coveredinbees]

Kate x Anthony Week

Day 3: Best 'Anthony is a blind, love-sick clown' moment

I going to say this scene from Chapter 18 of "The Viscount Who Loved Me":

Cue the circus music.

[harmonizingsunsets]

I'd Rather Go Blind & Let My Body Go Numb Than To Lose You Or The Weight Of Your Love

Prompt: Jealousy and all its cousins. Fanart Credit here.

Read on Archive here.

Anthony never thought he'd be the kind of husband who needs to know where his wife is at every moment of every day.

(To be fair, he never thought about being a husband much at all until the season he'd pursued Edwina only to fall maddeningly in love with Kate).

But here he is, sitting on the couch with his feet drumming loudly against the floor, staring intensely at the door.

On the table beside the couch sits a cup of tea, cold and untouched. Anthony had someone from the kitchens prepare it for him, but his nerves made him unable to stomach anything.

Anthony looks a mess. He'd been raking his hands through his hair for the past two hours. He'd also slapped his cheeks once or twice to stay awake.

His jacket lay discarded and wrinkled on the ground near the door. He feels guilty, knowing one of the maids would have to press it. However, he can't gather the desire to move from the couch and retrieve it. 

Instead, he's glued to the couch as he considers where Kate is. A hundred different scenarios run through his mind—each scenario worse than the last.

For the past month, Kate has been disappearing at night. He hears her footsteps tiptoeing past his study when he stays up to work. He feels the weight from her side of the bed lessen as she stands and departs from their bedroom when she thinks he's fallen asleep.

At first, Anthony questioned her about it. Kate would always make up an excuse about needing fresh air or going to see Edwina. But he knows her well enough to know when she's lying.

However, Anthony hadn't ever called Kate out on her deceit. He feared the truth, especially how it might crush him to hear it.

But he couldn't take the not knowing anymore. So when he heard the door close after Kate told him five minutes prior that she was retiring to bed, he made his way towards the front of the house. Anthony watched at the window as a carriage rode away. A hole had formed in his stomach, making him feel hollow. He then sat down on the couch so he could catch her when she returned.

Finally, after what felt like ages passed, he hears footsteps approaching the door. He quickly jumps up from the couch and makes his way to the foyer. When Kate steps through the door, her eyes widen.

"Anthony!" she exclaims in surprise, putting a hand to her chest to steady her breath. "You're up late."

"So are you," Anthony says, crossing his arms and blocking her way.

"I was only walking around to get some fresh air."

Anthony raises a brow. "Really, for two hours?"

Her eyes shift anxiously from his stare. "Has it really been that long?"

"Yes," he answers through gritted teeth, anger rising within him.

"Oh well, it was such a lovely night the time got away from me." Kate stands on her toes, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "Sorry for worrying you."

As she tries to retreat, Anthony's hand lurches out to grab her elbow, pulling her back to face him.

"I've had enough, Kate," he sighs tiredly. "Where were you?"

"I just told you, I was—."

"You've been going out for fresh air at odd hours of the day for the past month. You'd think you'd have your fill by now."

Kate fidgets. "Well, it hasn't just been out to get fresh air. I've been attending engagements. I have a life outside you and this household, you know."

"Oh, I know that, but your engagements don't usually take place after dark and don't require you sneaking out of the house to attend."

"Darling, everything is fine," Kate says, pulling her arm out of his reach and giving him a nervous smile. "You've probably been working too hard. Let's go to bed."

As she tries to walk away again, Anthony pulls her back. But this time, he holds onto both of her arms, forcing her to meet his eye.

"Kate, I know you—perhaps more than you know yourself, and I know when you're lying to me," he says, his voice turning softer—more fragile. It's as if he's a vase that could shatter at any moment. "What I don't know is why."

"I promise that what I have been going out and doing is not anything scandalous or dangerous." After letting out a long breath, a laugh bubbles from her throat in amusement. "Honestly, where I've been going to is nothing to fret over. You're acting as if I'm having an affair or something."

Anthony's heart sinks in his chest. No matter how ridiculous the prospect sounds, he can't help but whisper the question that's been plaguing his mind these past few weeks.

"Are you?"

Kate's mouth falls open, her face paling. "Anthony, how could you think that?"

"It's the only explanation I can think of," he says, stepping away from her and beginning to pace. "It explains why you've been coming back so late and being so evasive these past few weeks."

"Anthony—."

His legs go weak at the affection in her voice. Anthony falls to his knees in front of her and takes hold of her hands.

"Just tell me, Kate, I cannot bear it," Anthony says, hating the way his voice wavers. "I cannot bear the thought of you finding pleasure in someone else's arms. I cannot bear you leaving our bed because you'd rather be in another's. I cannot bear the idea of someone else touching you, loving you, or kissing you."

He brushes his lips against Kate's knuckles, causing her breath to hitch. Anthony pulls his lips away, but just so his fingertips can swirl circles on her palm. When his thumb skims over her pulse, he feels her heartbeat quicken.

"Most of all, I cannot bear the thought of you loving someone else." Anthony swallows thickly, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "I'd die right now if you told me all of this was true."

Anthony has always feared time. He used to compulsively reach into his pocket to grasp his father's watch. Each time a hand on the clock ticked forward, he felt as if an ounce of his soul got sucked away.

But since Kate came into his life, that fear has dissipated. Suddenly, he didn't spend each moment of his life calculating how much time he had left. Instead, Anthony began counting things other than seconds.

He counts the number of Kate's smiles. He counts the number of laughs they share next to one another at the table surrounded by his family. Anthony counts the number of kisses that were slow, stirring an aching feeling in his chest. He also counts each hungry and passionate kiss that sets every inch of his skin aflame.

Most of all, Anthony counts how many times he's lost count around her. He gets lost in the timeless and wonderful enigma that is Kate Sharma.

Anthony feels that fear of time creeping up on him again. But now, he's not afraid of time passing and leading to his demise. Instead, he's terrified that Kate's time of loving him has run out. Maybe, she's found a more deserving man to spend the minutes with than him.

When Anthony braves a glance up at Kate, he expects to see pity. But instead, he's surprised to see an entirely different emotion reflected in her eyes.

Love.

Pure, unconditional, steadfast love.

Kate gets down to her knees in front of him. But she doesn't let go of his hands, holding them tighter.

"None of that is true, Anthony," she says firmly. "I love you, have only loved you, and will only love you."

Her words release a breath of relief from him. But, he still can't help doubting this, not knowing how else to explain her odd disappearances.

Kate must sense his train of thoughts. She smiles gently, moving one of her hands up to graze his cheek.

"I love you so much that I've been waking up in the middle of the night so I can give you the perfect present."

Anthony blinks in confusion, feeling the room that had been spinning become still.

"What?"

Kate laughs, and she rests her forehead against his. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

It hits Anthony like a whip. All the clues that he'd gathered up to form a horrible conclusion were, in fact, clues that lead to a more justifiable and pleasant one.

"Our anniversary," he answers dumbly.

"Yes," she nods, her face beaming with a giddy kind of delight. Anthony feels lucky that he gets to see it. Her expressions are free without restraint only when she's comfortable with someone. He's glad to be one of those treasured few. "We've made it a year, can you believe it? It seems like only yesterday, I was stepping on your toes at a ball, and you acted like a madman when I got stung by a bee."

Anthony frowns, his forehead creasing. "I did not act like a madman."

"You did, but it led us to where we are now," Kate says, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Married and happy."

"I'd like to think it would've happened with the bee or not."

"I'm not sure. You were quite thick-headed about how in love with me you were."

"Oh, I'm the thick-headed one?" he scoffs. "After the night you fell in love with me, you gave your approval for me to marry your sister. How thick-headed is that?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd ever feel that way about me," Kate defends, rolling her eyes. "But I know very well now that you do. You show me with every kind word, every touch, every…" her words drift, cheeks reddening, "Well, you know."

Anthony smirks. "No, I do not know. Please elaborate on everything I do to you that gives you pleasure in vivid detail."

"You're insufferable," she grumbles and puts her hands on her hips. "I have a good mind not to tell you the true reason for my disappearing and keep you stewing in jealousy."

"I don't think you'd like the result of my increased jealousy."

"I don't know, your scowl was fierce, and the fire in your eyes was quite the sight," Kate teases, tracing her thumb over his furrowed brows. "Very becoming, actually."

Anthony stands and pulls her up with him, leading her to the couch. "Why have you been disappearing?"

"As I said, our anniversary is tomorrow, and I was getting your gift ready," she explains. "It's almost midnight. Perhaps I can give it to you a little bit early. I had one of the servants waiting outside for my return. They came in through the back entrance and have already snuck it into your study to reveal as a surprise for tomorrow."

"How sinister of you, plotting with our staff against me."

"Nothing sinister about it. I asked, and they agreed to help me. Unlike you, they think I'm perfectly agreeable."

"Obviously, they don't know you well enough to fear the wicked inner workings of your mind as I do."

Kate stands, gracefully sticking out her tongue and making him laugh. Anthony follows her down the hall into his study. She makes him close his eyes. He feels like a fool, stumbling into the room with Kate chuckling behind him. But, he feels guilty for thinking Kate could ever be unfaithful and indulges her wishes.

He waits for a few moments, hearing her moving something across the floor, before he asks, "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Alright, you bloody impatient man, open your eyes."

As Anthony takes his hands away from his eyes, his heart stops in his chest. He gawks at the painting on a canvas stand in front of him.

"Kate," he utters breathlessly.

Kate chews on her bottom lip, hesitantly watching him observe the painting—no, "painting" doesn't seem like the right word for what it is.

It's a masterpiece, an almost perfect depiction of Kate.

The artist captured the exact fraction that Kate's lips tilt up when she smiles in amusement. Anthony often sees that expression pointed towards him when they're engaged in one of their bantering matches. The color of her brown eyes is just as deep in the painting. They're full of so much that Anthony still wants to explore even after a year of marriage.

In the portrait, Kate's shoulders are bare, the sleeves resting low on her arm. The bottom of the picture shows the scarlet bodice of her dress. But the most alluring part is how the brown curls of her hair flow freely down her neck, cascading like a waterfall.

Anthony has a strong distaste for her bonnets and how society demands she wears her hair up in public. Anthony loves running his fingers through her hair, which probably is why she posed for the painting with it down. That minx knew it would stir a feeling within him that no one else but her has been able to elicit.

"I hired Sir Granville to paint it," Kate blurts out, nervous from how long he's remained silent. "I wanted him to paint it in a private setting because it's a bit…."

"Breathtaking," Anthony answers.

"I was going to say suggestive, but breathtaking is a good adjective," Kate grins bashfully. She steps towards him, her eyes glowing through the dim light of the room. "It's a portrait for your eyes only, no one else's."

Anthony ducks his head. "I'm sorry that I thought you were...I just—."

"Foolishly got jealous of a person who doesn't exist? Yes, yes, you did."

He runs his fingers against the frame of the painting. "I have a mind to hang this in the common area, so everyone can see how lucky I am."

Kate's eyebrows snap together. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he asks playfully.

"It might encourage some men to meet the woman behind the painting," Kate notes with a mischievous glint in her eyes, pretending to consider his proposal. "Who am I to oppose admirers?"

Anthony's smirk fades. "You wouldn't dare."

"Ah, there's that handsome scowl," Kate points at him in triumph.

He swoops forward, his arms going around her waist. "You're maddening."

Kate's smile widens as she looks up at him, looping her hands around his neck. "You love it."

"You're right. I do love you. And, I love this portrait," Anthony adds, bobbing his head towards the painting. "Perhaps I should hang it in here. It can serve as a reminder of what's waiting for me when I finish my work."

She leans up a bit on her toes, her hands traveling lower down his back. "You know, I could come down to your study to remind you."

Anthony begins moving his hands as well. As they skim up her body, brushing her breast, he relishes in the sound of her moan. Anthony leans closer, pressing kisses down her neck until he gets to just the right spot. Kate's fingers curl tighter onto his back as his lips apply pressure there, and her body gravitates further against him.

"You're far too distracting," Anthony murmurs against her skin. "Perhaps, the portrait is too dangerous to be in here. I'd get nothing done."

"Exactly." She leans her face back a margin, so Anthony can see that enchanting tilt of her lips the artist depicted. "Why do you think I commissioned the painting in the first place?"

"To torture me?"

"All is fair in love and war," Kate says, grinning at him. "And hasn't our relationship always been a bit of both?"

In response, Anthony kisses her deeply and thoroughly. The sound of his pocket watch ticking starts to fade away. It gets replaced with the sound of his heart, which beats for Kate more than himself these days.

[harmonizingsunsets]

I can feel your heart beating under my skin

Day 4 of Kate x Anthony week, prompt: no ifs, ands, or buts.

Archive link here.

(Also inspired by the leaked photos of season 2)

The Bridgertons invited the three Sharma's out for the last horse race of the season for entertainment. However, Kate knew this was all a scheme so Anthony could spend more time with Edwina. She didn't doubt the Bridgertons enjoyed watching a horse race, as they seem like the competitive sort. But, she knew Anthony's true intentions behind the invitation.

When they arrive at the event, Anthony's waiting right in the front. He smiles from across the way, and it grows even more prominent as Kate intensifies her glare.

"He looks rather handsome today, don't you think?" Edwina whispers.

"The color doesn't suit him," Kate shakes her head. However, her eyes linger up and down his form. "But I don't blame the shade. I don't think anything suits him."

"You both are wearing blue. It's like fate!"

Kate thinks that if fate was involved, it's more so a cruel twist of it than any romantic notions Edwina has in her mind.

As they near Anthony, his eyes find hers. She tries conveying as much distaste for being in his company that she can, without looking too impolite. Within a few seconds, Mary nudges her arm, making Kate think she hadn't succeeded in being conspicuous of her hatred.

He and the other Bridgertons escort them inside, but Kate stops by the betting area. It leads her and Anthony to row about the horses.

Kate wants to place a bet on the horse Apollo. While she's never been to a race in person, she keeps up with records in the paper. The odds aren't in his favor, as it's his first season, but he's been improving steadily over the past few months. Kate has a feeling that today will be his day.

Anthony, however, was placing all his money on Archer, the favorite of the year. Kate forces herself to raise her head high as she places her bet, showing complete confidence in her choice despite Anthony's warnings.

Edwina and Mary didn't place any bets. To be fair, Kate hadn't planned to make a bet either. However, she seems to be doing many unexpected things whenever she's in the presence of Lord Bridgerton.

When they make it up the steps to their seats, Kate asserts herself between Edwina and him. Anthony gives her an annoyed look, knowing what she's doing. Kate smiles broadly in response, turning her face towards the track.

"You can still back out, you know," Anthony whispers beside her. "They usually don't let people retract their bets, but I think they could make an exception. You know, if I tell them you're soon to be part of my family."

"No exception needs to be made. I am not backing out," Kate states firmly. "Why would I, when I have the winning horse?"

"Your winning horse hasn't won a single race in his career."

"It's his first year. His career is just getting started," Kate defends, squirming slightly. "Today is the day he will succeed."

"It's just like you not to root for the most accomplished horse, the one with the most promising record. Your logic goes beyond sense."

"And your pride goes beyond reason," Kate snaps.

"Beyond reason? Status, money, and coming from a good family are not reasons?"

Kate frowns, knowing that they are good reasons. They are reasons that would make any other sister proud to approve of such a match for their sibling. But it wasn't fair that Edwina had to take on so much pressure to marry well. Edwina should marry someone she has affection towards, who isn't such a rake.

But while Kate knows Edwina didn't love Anthony, nor would ever love him, she knows Edwina could be content. Anthony could give her anything she desired. She would be a viscountess, and their marriage, while not founded in love, could perhaps be based on respect. Most people were not so lucky to have such a match.

Yet, Kate couldn't approve the union. Not just because he was a rake, or because Kate found him intolerable—but because of something else. Something she can't describe but can feel twisting painfully in her gut whenever she pictures Edwina and Anthony together.

"They are reasons that society values, and I cannot ignore having merit," Kate relents after a moment, her words careful but firm. "But, they are not the only factors that matter."

Anthony's anger fades a little, his eyes focusing intently on hers. "What factor am I missing?"

Kate opens her mouth to respond but finds her throat dry. Anthony's eyes pivot their focus on her eyes to her parted lips.

She feels something undefinable in her stomach again. But this time, it's not a painful sensation. It's something warm and is more of a fluttering feeling instead of a tug. The only thing similar to what she feels when thinking of Edwina and Anthony is the same deep ache. It starts in the pit of her stomach and flows throughout her body.

Kate's startled out of her thoughts as she hears a horse neighing in the distance, kicking at the doors that contain them.

"It's about to start," Kate says, standing up with the rest of the crowd.

Anthony blinks a few times as if he'd just looked right into the sunlight and nods.

They both turn to the track. The crowd is abuzz with excitement. Kate hears someone countdown, and the horses begin running.

Kate gets swept up in it, standing up and shouting encouragement as Apollo gallops farther forward each second. Anthony cheers loudly for his horse beside her, who has a lead over the rest.

Kate also hears what she thinks are curses from Lady Danbury behind them. She mutters something about ill-advice she'd gotten before the race.

As the horses round the corner, Apollo edges past Archer, his speed increasing. Kate, in her excitement, whistles loudly, not caring at the moment how unladylike she appears.

When the horses are a few feet within the finish line, Kate feels a flash of lightning strike her palm.

Anthony's hand is suddenly in hers, gripping it tightly in anticipation as he watches the race.

Kate's breath comes in and out more sharply, unable to steady the pace of it. Her senses, instead, are all at work in her hand. They memorize the grooves of his palm and the warmth of his touch.

At that moment, Kate thinks her hand has never served its entire purpose as a hand until Anthony held onto it.

Apollo was edging past Archer, but her eyes couldn't focus on the horse. She stares at his bare hand, resting on top of her glove. Kate finds herself curious how it would feel if she took her glove off and entwined her fingers with his.

If Anthony's hand on her glove summoned lighting, she can't imagine what kind of storm would appear if his skin brushed against hers.

As the crowd's cheers become louder, she forces her eyes towards the track and sees her horse cross the finish line. Anthony's hand falls from hers, his mouth wide in shock. Kate jumps up and down in delight.

"I won!"

"You didn't win. The horse did," Anthony says bitterly.

"The horse I bet on, the one you said I was a fool to choose because no one else bet on it." Kate folds her arms across her chest with a triumphant smirk. "Well, Lord Bridgerton, sometimes the best bets are on overlooked things."

Anthony's disappointed expression falters, his eyes studying her intently.

"Perhaps you're right," he murmurs.

Kate smirks. "Did you just say I'm right?"

"I said perhaps," he specifies with a roll of his eyes. "I should fetch some refreshments if you're feeling faint and missing entire words from other's sentences."

"I don't feel faint. Actually, I feel better than I have in a long time."

Edwina stands from where she had remained sitting the entire race. "I could do with a refreshment."

Anthony startles a bit, appearing as if he'd forgotten she was there.

"Ah, yes...of course. I shall return shortly."

"When you return, I shall be a richer woman," Kate says before he turns away, unable to resist continuing to jest about his loss. "I will pay you back for the refreshment since you are recently low on money."

"You are not a humble winner, Ms. Sharma."

"No, but I am a victorious one."

He shakes his head at her, but she can see a bit of amusement twitching at his lips as he turns away. Kate watches him leave for a moment. When she turns back around, she sees Edwina watching her with a coy smile.

"So, did you enjoy the race?" Kate asks.

"Not as much as I enjoyed watching you and Lord Bridgerton."

Kate gaps at her sister. "What are you referring to?"

"Oh, please! He forgot I was next to him. His only focus was on the horses, you, and your hand."

Kate shifts her feet awkwardly. "Perhaps he thought it was yours."

"Or perhaps, your hand was more enticing than mine."

Kate sighs. "Edwina, that's not—."

"Kate, it's alright," Edwina assures, not looking bothered in the slightest.

"No, it's not," Kate insists. "He's your suitor, a suitor who I do not approve of but is one nonetheless. He should pay attention to you and not the horses."

Edwina puts her hands on her hips. "Or perhaps, he's taking your advice and paying attention to a bet that's overlooked but extremely valuable."

Before Kate can respond, Anthony approaches their side, holding out glasses of water. "Here are the refreshments."

Edwina takes a glass, but Kate doesn't take hers, stepping around him. "I should head up to the box to claim my winnings."

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

Kate narrows her eyes. "I think I can make it a few yards without a gentlemen's protection."

"Excluding my brothers in attendance, most men here are not gentlemen," he argues.

"Yes, especially when putting you into account," Kate says, enjoying the way his face hardens at her insult. "But, I think I can manage."

She doesn't want to leave Edwina alone with him, but Mary is on her other side, and his brothers are close as well. She doesn't trust Anthony as far as she can throw him, but she doubts anything improper would occur in such a public place or the presence of family members.

After claiming her winnings, Kate begins to walk back to her seat but bumps into Mrs. Bridgerton.

"Congrats on your win, Ms. Sharma," Violet says before Kate can get out her apology.

"Thank you, Mrs. Bridgerton," she says. "Did you bet on one of the horses?"

"I bet on something before the race, but it wasn't on one of the horses."

Kate quirks her head. "Oh really?"

"It was a bet that Colin proposed, that Benedict bet against, and I bet for," she explains, a joyful sparkle in her eyes. "I am proud to say that my son Benedict lost."

"What was the bet? That Lady Danbury would jump and ride her horse to victory if it hadn't gone fast enough?"

"No, but that would have been quite the sight," Violet chuckles.

"Then what was it about?"

"Let's just say the horses we bet on are closer than the ones on the track."

Kate's face flushes, and Violet's smile widens.

"Have a good afternoon, Ms. Sharma. Wish your sister my best."

"I...yes, of course," she stutters.

Instead of rejoining the group, Kate waits for them near the entrance gate. But she's not alone for too long. She sees Anthony approaching her by himself. The others must be still chatting in their seats. Kate considers turning away, but she knows it would look like she's trying to escape from him.

"So, you gathered your winnings for the horse?" he asks, pointing at the pouch in her hand.

"I—uh, yes. It's from no other bet, I assure you."

"You're cowering out on gambling after you've had your first win?" Anthony steps towards her and shrugs. "Just as well, it was due to beginners' luck, anyway."

"It was not luck. I made the right bet," Kate corrects. "Why can't you admit that I bested you?"

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"This is fun?"

Anthony's eyes gleam wickedly. "Well, it is, isn't it?"

Kate's heart quickens, and she takes a step back.

"I should go to my sister, make sure you didn't sneak some potion into her drink to convince her that you're not intolerable," Kate says, changing the topic. "But if such a potion did exist, I doubt it would be strong enough."

As Kate begins to walk back, she uses the railing on the other side for balance. But as she reaches the edge, a nail snags on her glove, slashing right through it.

Kate curses under her breath, clutching her hand. Anthony quickly runs to her side, eyes wide and worried.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just tore my glove."

"And cut your hand," Anthony adds and holds out his palm to her. "Let me see, Ms. Sharma."

Kate whips her arm behind her back. "I am perfectly alright."

Anthony steps closer, a more serious look on his face than she's ever seen on him.

"Let me see."

It's not a question. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about Anthony's tone. Kate pulls her hand out from behind her back and hesitantly holds it out to him. Anthony takes it, gently slipping off her glove and inspecting the wound.

Kate forces herself not to shudder as his fingers dance across her skin. She knows he's trying to observe the cut, but his thumb lingers on each line of her hand, and he draws circles on her palm unnecessarily.

Anthony's heartbeat somehow passes through his touch, and she feels it beating underneath her skin.

"It's not too deep. Perhaps an ointment would make it heal within a week or two," Anthony says, his voice somewhat lower than before. He turns to look at the glove in his other hand, which has a large hole in it. "But I'm not sure your glove is as salvageable."

"I could sew it, but it would look rather obvious," Kate sighs sadly. "I better toss it."

She goes to reach for the glove, but Anthony pulls it out of her reach. "I'll take care of it."

"Discarding one glove won't make me change my mind about you and Edwina," Kate protests.

"I doubt it would," Anthony says, looking like he's fighting off a smile. "But just the same, I'll take care of it."

Kate wants to argue but sees that this is something even she can't move him on. She nods and continues her way back to their seats.

But, she unwisely spares a glance back at Anthony. He doesn't toss the glove. Instead, he pockets it.

Kate forces her eyes forward, trying not to get carried away in romantic notions that could never apply to her.

When she makes it back to the stands, she finds Edwina waiting for her.

"There you are, what took you so—wait, a different question," Edwina cuts herself off, looking down at Kate's bare hand. "Where is your glove?"

"Oh, I tore it against a nail."

"Where is the glove? Perhaps I can mend it."

Kate waves her off. "No, that's alright."

As Edwina studies her curiously, Kate thinks back to the feeling of Anthony's hand on hers and the weight of his stare.

Kate's previous notion had been correct. Anthony's bare hand in hers did bring forth a storm. It was a storm that was unpredictable and dangerous but alluring all the same.

"I have a feeling that glove is something I can never get back once given," Kate whispers, so quietly that Edwina doesn't hear a single word.

As they leave, Kate sees the clouds darkening and brewing with newfound energy. It tells her the storm isn't over.

Instead, it's just beginning.

[bellascarousel]

Pillow Talk

For Kate And Anthony Week 2021. Day 2 prompt - lovey dovey

Anthony woke up before Kate, as he usually did. She was snuggled against him, her head on his chest, and her leg draped over his hips. Actually, her leg was in a very dangerous place. He carefully shifted her, moving her leg down to his thighs, before his body could react to that accidental touch. Or at least before her noticing that was what woke her up. Not that he was averse to some morning lovemaking if she was willing, of course. But, he didn’t want her feeling obligated. He was still kicking himself for the way he had reacted to her wanting time when they first got married. If he could do that day over again, he would tell her that was fine. As much as he had enjoyed their wedding night, and fully believed she had too, he didn’t particularly like himself for forcing her into it.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Just about how good it feels just to hold you.”

He felt her head shake against his chest and then she was lifting herself off of him. His arms tightened, reflexively, before he sighed and loosened them again, letting her go. Not that she went far. She just propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. Then she ran her finger between his eyebrows. “This tells me that it’s nothing that pleasant. You only get that crease between your brows when something is wrong.”

She knew him too well. “I was thinking about our wedding night.”

She frowned at him. “And it has you upset? I… I don’t understand.” She had that look, again. That insecure look she got far too often. Whenever she was mentally comparing herself to some other woman that she thought was prettier than her, or more ladylike, more graceful, whatever metric she was measuring womanhood by at that moment.

Anthony sighed and reached up, brushing her hair off of her face. “Don’t look like that, Kate. I don’t mean it the way you seem to think I do. The only thing I would change about that night is when it happened. I should have given you the time you asked for. I shouldn’t have forced you to consummate our marriage that night.”

“You didn’t. Not really. Nothing happened that I didn’t want. I… in the carriage, when I asked for time, it wasn’t about not wanting to be with you like that. I was just nervous. And, I think I was terrified of… of your past.”

Had she said that then, he wouldn’t have understood. He would have thought that his experience would have been a good thing, because he knew how to make it good for her, too. But, now he remembered the way she had stiffened when he had called her beautiful. How she had thought he was closing his eyes and pretending she was someone else. He smiled at her. “The difference is that none of them actually meant anything to me. Even then, when I wasn’t ready to admit to myself that I love you, it was still different with you. Because you’re my wife. Kate, I need you to know, something. No other woman has ever been in this bed. And, I was actually glad of that, that this room, this bed, were just ours. I’m probably not making much sense.”

She shook her head. “No, you are. And, I’m glad you told me that. It actually is nice to know that I may not have been your first, but at least I’m the first you had here. I wonder if knowing that would have made me less insecure that night. Granted, for some reason, all of your mistresses didn’t occur to me when I was having my freak out. All I could think about was the fact that you hadn’t wanted to marry me. That you had been courting my sister. My beautiful, graceful, perfect picture of womanhood sister. And you had to be so disappointed to be stuck married to me, instead.”

“Disappointed? Oh Kate. Honestly, your fears were something she would have had to worry about, not that I wouldn’t have done my best to keep her from ever realizing. There is a very good chance that had I married her, I would have ended up closing my eyes and pretending she was you.” He smiled at the stunned look on her face. “It was you, Kate. It was always you. You were the one I fantasized about making love to. It drove me mad, because I hated you. But, I wanted you. I have always wanted you. That night in my study, when I kissed you. I wanted to lower you to the floor and have you, right then and there. I am honestly quite proud of my restraint.”

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“What? I’m just being honest. I didn’t act on it, did I? I stopped before things got too far. But, trust me, Kate. Stopping took a great deal of willpower. More than I ever would have given myself credit for before then.” He cupped her face, running his thumb over her lips. “I hate how inadequate you feel. The way you always compare yourself to every woman around you and feel like you’re coming up short. Part of me wants to smack everyone who ever made you feel that way. Though, most of me is just grateful that you were surrounded by fools who were completely blind to your charms. Because their blindness meant that you were still there when I finally came to my senses.”

She giggled, a sound that shot straight to his groin. “You mean when you completely lost your mind? I’m not sure that that day in the garden really counts as you coming to your senses.”

“Fine. When I completely lost my mind. I’m honestly grateful to that damn bee. And almost feel sorry for it. Poor thing gave its life to bring us together.”

“If I had known how things would turn out, I would have given it a proper funeral.”

It was his turn to laugh, then. “Here’s hoping there’s a bee heaven, where it’s always late spring and all the flowers are in bloom.”

Kate just shook her head and leaned down to kiss him gently. “Good morning, Lord Bridgerton. I’m glad that your mood seems to be improving.”

“I am laying naked in my bed, with the woman I love in my arms. Hard to stay in a melancholy mood under these circumstances. Did you sleep well, Lady Bridgerton?”

“I did. My husband rather tired me out, last night.”

He laughed. “Well, you see, I realized that I am madly in love with my wife just moments before she was severely injured in an accident. Said injury barred me from certain… pleasurable activities for several weeks. Last night was the first chance I’ve had to properly demonstrate my affection.” He pulled her down until her head was on his chest, again, then just held her, running his hand gently up and down her back. “I wasn’t too rough with you last night, was I? I fear that several weeks’ worth of pent-up desire may have made me a bit too… enthusiastic in my attentions.”

“If you honestly have to ask that, then perhaps I wasn’t enthusiastic enough in my response.”

Anthony thought of the night before. Of Kate’s moans of pleasure. The way she clung to him. The way her body moved in perfect rhythm with his. How she begged him to never stop. And the fact that he was pretty sure every servant in the house heard her screaming his name when she climaxed. He groaned. “Had you been any more enthusiastic, I think you may have killed me.”

She giggled again. “Well, perhaps you shouldn’t be questioning my enjoyment, then.”

He just shook his head and ran his fingers through her hair. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“You may have mentioned it a few… hundred times in the past few weeks, yes.”

“I have been making up for lost time. I fell in love with you the moment you sent my pall mall ball into the lake. I think I fell in love with your competitive spirit. And the fact that you could hold your own against my siblings, and against me. You fit in. I mean, there was always more to it than that. And I’m not explaining myself very well. But, I definitely fell in love with you that day. It just took me far too long to be able to admit it to myself. Kate, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

She put a finger to his lips. “Shh… It’s okay, Anthony. You were scared. I understand. I really do. Yes, it hurt when you told me that you would never love me. Especially since I was already pretty sure it was going to be way too easy for me to fall in love with you. I think I could have handled the thought of being in a loveless marriage. It was the thought of love being only one way that hurt. Actually, though, I was also a fool.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was willing to admit to myself that I could probably fall in love with you. But, the part I wasn’t able to admit to myself is that I already had.” She laughed. “Actually, at about the same time. It probably started at that dinner party, when you swooped in, snubbed Cressida Cowper, and escorted Penelope to dinner. You were a hero that day. That was when my opinion of you started to change. But, what really did it was that night in the library. I fell in love with the man who crawled under a table to try to comfort me while I had a full-on panic attack. Who didn’t judge me. Who was sweet, and supportive, and tried to distract me, but never tried to tell me that there was nothing to be afraid of. Who did his best to try to understand what I was going through and help me through it. So, don’t apologize for not realizing you loved me, Anthony. It took me almost as long to admit it to myself that I loved you.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair? At least we figured it out.”

“Yes, we certainly did.” She lifted herself off of him, again. But, before he had time to complain about the loss of that contact, she scooted up a bit, then leaned down and kissed him. And this time, there was nothing gentle about it. Her lips were hungry on his, and when he gasped in surprise, she was the one to press the advantage and slip her tongue into his mouth.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, one hand fisting in her hair, holding her to him as their tongues tangled together. His other hand slid down her back, over her derriere, to grip the back of the leg she currently had draped over his thighs. And then he slid her leg up, until it was once again draped over his hips. He hissed at the contact.

His wife was not through surprising him, though. She shifted until she was straddling him, and then rocked her hips, moaning against his lips as the movement apparently gave her as much pleasure as it gave him. Okay, he was definitely liking this side of her. While she had always been an enthusiastic participant in lovemaking, she had never taken charge like this, before. The thought of making love to her like this was intoxicating. Until he ran his hands over her legs and noticed how much they were trembling — and remembered that she had only very recently regained full use of one of them. He reluctantly broke their kiss. “Kate. Your leg.”

“Has been pronounced healed. A fact that we spent a good portion of last night celebrating.”

He rolled her over. “And I want to keep it that way. I don’t want you putting more strain on it than necessary for a while. I promise you, Kate. In a few weeks, when I trust that it will give you nothing but pleasure, I will be more than happy to lay back and allow you to have your way with me. But, for right now, for my peace of mind, please let me do most of the work. Okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

She gave him a saucy look. “I intend to hold you to that promise.”

"Please do. I'm looking forward to it, actually."

Kate's eyes darkened, making Anthony swallow hard at the desire apparent in them. She lifted her hips, pressing herself against him, and they both moaned. “Please, Anthony. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

Dear God. This woman was seriously going to be the death of him. Not that he was complaining. “I love you, so much”, he whispered before leaning down to kiss her softly. He watched her face as he made love to her. He had always enjoyed watching passion, desire, and pleasure flitting across her face as he moved inside her. But, last night, he finally let himself see something else — love. It was the love shining in her eyes that was his undoing. He hadn’t lied to her on their wedding night when he told her it had never been that good. But, it was even better, now. Because now he knew that she was giving him all of herself. Not just her body, but her heart and her soul, too. As he had given her his.

It was still scary. Falling in love was possibly the most terrifying thing he had ever done in his life. He wouldn’t change it, but he wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it.

Kate’s moans of pleasure started getting louder, and he felt her tightening around him. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, muffling the sounds they both made as they climaxed. He shuddered as he emptied himself into her.

Eventually, he got up the energy to roll off her and pull her over so that she was laying on his chest again. “You know, if it keeps getting better every time, you really are going to end up being the death of me.”

She giggled. “We can’t have that, now.” She snuggled closer to him. “I have definitely missed waking up to that.”

“So have I. Please don’t ever injure yourself like that again. Between worrying about you and missing this, I don’t know how I survived it. The next time I get barred from your bed for weeks at a time I want it to be because…” He skimmed his hand down her side to her waist and then moved it around to rest on her belly.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “We should probably eat something. We’re going to need our strength if we’re going to be getting to work getting you an heir.”

“Kate, you know I don’t really care about that, right? I mean, I know that that’s why I was looking to get married this season, but… Our marriage isn’t about that. Especially not now. I just want to be with you. I have three brothers. If we don’t have a son, I’m sure that at least one of them will. My family’s title isn’t going anywhere. I don’t want you to feel like you’re under any pressure.”

“Honestly, Anthony. It was a joke. You may not care about having an heir, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a whole lot of fun trying, right?”

He laughed, then sat up. “Put at least a nightdress on, Lady Bridgerton. That beautiful body of yours is a sight for my eyes, only. I’ll ring to have a breakfast tray brought up.”

Kate just raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed as he got out of bed. He picked up her nightdress from where he had tossed it the night before and handed it to her before pulling a pair of trousers on. Once they were both at least somewhat covered, he rang down to the kitchen to have a tray brought up for them.

Several hours later, he also rang to have a dinner tray brought up. It wasn’t until the next day that they actually got out of bed. They had a lot of lost time to make up for.

[coveredinbees]

Kate x Anthony Week

Day 5: Kate x Anthony Favourite Make Out Spot

You expect me to pick just one? I don't know. Maybe the gazebo?

[starhallows]

If you're still taking prompts, #3 or #9 ( I can't choose!!) for Anthony/Kate 💜

Yeah, remember these? Anyway, not me killing two birds with one stone and using KateandAnthonyWeek to clear the ask box.

DAY 3: Something Stupid Like I Love You

Friday Nights

“You can’t do that!” he screeched. Kate suspected it had everything to do with her being only a correct answer away from winning.

“Seriously, Bridgerton?”

“Very serious”.

Kate huffed and sat back down. “Whatever,” she said, “there’s no possible way for you to win”.

Kate didn’t know how she had ended up spending a Friday afternoon with the Bridgertons in their house in Mayfair. That was a lie. Edwina had dragged her out of her flat that afternoon and begged her to go with her, and, as her sister knew, Kate could never tell her “no”.

It wasn’t like Kate’s sour mood had nothing to do with her sweet sister. No. The reason for her annoyance sat right across from her on an overstuffed chair that she was sure was the only one suitable for his overpompous ass. At least, Kate thought, he looked like he was more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

Her relationship with Anthony Bridgerton had had plenty of highs and lows. Her instincts had told her to stay away the first time she had met him and he had flirted with her sister just to spite her. She should have listened to them, she never truly figured out why she hadn’t. That wasn’t entirely true either. He had that same je ne sais quoi that every Bridgerton seemed to possess and that worked like a magnet for the unfortunate souls around them. Kate hadn’t been any different.

She had bumped into him twice in the first week after meeting him and constantly kept seeing him in places she had never seen him in before. He would usually nod her way, and she would return the gesture because, in Mary’s words, “I haven’t raised you to be a brat, little miss”. She had been at a bookshop picking up something for Edwina when she saw him sitting in what looked like a terribly dull book presentation with his brother Colin.

“Are you following me?” she asked him when he got up from his seat and walked towards her.

“Save me, Kate,” he had said, “my brother is trying to bore me to death!”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” she snarked.

“That man has been talking about the different ways to filter rainwater for the past forty-five minutes. If you save me I will buy you coffee for the rest of the year”.

“That desperate?”

“Yes,” he had nodded eagerly.

“I know a place,” she had answered.

They had met every morning for coffee for an entire month in a small coffee shop that was convenient for both of them. Kate had sworn to anyone that dared tease her about it, that she wasn’t dating Anthony Bridgerton, he just happened to buy her breakfast every morning. It didn’t matter that she had to wake up half an hour earlier every day just to get to work on time, even if Kate had never been an early riser.

They hadn’t made a big deal out of it when he had cancelled their coffee appointment and took her out to lunch instead. It didn’t really matter when she couldn’t make it one morning and her meetings ran through her lunch break a few days later, so, she decided to treat him to dinner instead.

Again, it’s not like they were dating. They were just two single people, enjoying each other’s company practically daily. And yes, he always woke up to a text message she had sent way too late at night, and she might have their WhatsApp conversation pinned, but that didn’t mean anything. They were friends, at best.

She somehow ended up pushing him against a wall in a poorly lit corner in White’s while the loud music on the dance floor guided her arms up his body and she pulled his head down so her lips could claim his. He pulled her closer by the waist while she ran her nails through the back of his head. His breath mixed with hers, both too preoccupied to worry about oxygen, their minds clouded by the passion of every touch.

He had taken her home that Friday night.

They had had breakfast in the morning.

She had kissed him goodbye as she left on Saturday.

They had messaged the entire day on Sunday.

He missed their date on Monday.

And Tuesday.

And Wednesday.

Kate had breakfast at home on Thursday, glaring at her phone every time she happened to see his name on it. The double blue tics o at least ten messages mocked her from the stupid chat. She debated texting him one last time “I really hope you are dead” or something equally hurtful and petty. She sighed instead, her finger hovering over the pin for just a second before clicking on it and watching their conversation plummet down the bottomless pit of the chat. She had texted Sophie instead and made plans for the afternoon - Ben and Jerry’s and Greys Anatomy, the perfect combination.

See, no one could fault Kate for not wanting to be in the Bridgerton game night the next day. No one could argue against her if she decided she’d rather be at a bar, gin and tonic in hand giggling over hot men with her friends. The Bridgertons were like jump scares in cheap horror films, however, expected at every turn and still unavoidable.

Her phone pinged next to her and Kate unblocked it.

“Hot date, Kate?” Benedict teased beside her.

“You bet,” she said, winking at him as she smiled and answered Sophie’s text. The sooner she was done, the sooner she could leave for the club Sophie had somehow gotten tickets for through her nice step sister.

“Where are you going after?”

“This new place. It used to be an old clothing warehouse. My friend said there are mannequins all over the dancefloor”.

“Ooh, freaky,” Benedict said turning towards her, “sounds fun.”

“It’s your turn again, Kate,” Anthony grumbled from the other side of the Trivial board.

“Entertainment,” she answered.

“Who was the first person to ever play Elphaba in Wicked?” he asked.

“Idina Menzel”.

“Wrong,” he said putting the card to the side.

“How is that wrong? She originated the role on Broadway, she won the bloody Tony!”

“Stephanie J Block played Elphaba in the workshops”.

“Yes, and I am sure that the good people writing the questions for Trivial Pursuit have decided to go with the more obscure answer. Give me the card”.

“The card is wrong,” he said stubbornly.

Benedict murmured something that sounded like “For God’s sake, Anthony”.

“Fine, whatever, have your stupid answer”. She stood up and took walked to Edwina to take her bag. “I’m meeting Sophie for drinks like I told you,” she told her sister, “I’ll see you tomorrow”.

“You can’t leave now Kate, we aren’t done!” Anthony said, jumping from his seat.

“Oh we are done,” Kate snapped back, and the room went silent.

“You can’t just get up and leave, Kate,” he insisted, “you can’t just leave in the middle of something!”

“Oh, you would know all about leaving in the middle of something, wouldn’t you?”

“Now, I don’t think we need to talk about that here”.

“Talk about what?” Kate raised her voice. “I didn’t know there was something his Lordship wished to talk about, every interaction we’ve had the last few days guided me in the opposite direction!”

“Well not this way, I didn’t!”He said, his tone matching hers.

“You are such a jerk! Was it that hard to answer one of the messages I sent you?” She suddenly remembered where she was. “Great, now I sound pathetic! Thank you!”

“Will you wait for…”

“For what?”

“Well, if you just let me talk!”

“Maybe I’m done waiting for you to talk!”

“Seriously Kate!”

“Enough, both of you!” Francesca yelled. “Shouting at each other across the room doesn’t count as having a proper conversation about your feelings. Wouldn’t you rather all this be private, anyway?”

“Yes”.

“Not really”.

“Come on, Kate,” he pleaded.

“Fine,” she said, leaving the living room and walking out into the hallway. He jogged after her and took her to the kitchen, far enough from their siblings without walking into one of the bedrooms.

“Well?” she asked after a moment.

“I don’t know where to begin”.

“Great,” Kate said, taking her phone and pulling the strap of her bag closer to her neck. “Wonderful. Why did I even-” she huffed.

“No, Kate, wait!”

“What am I waiting for Anthony? You’ve been ghosting me for a week, I get it”.

“No, you don’t”

“Oh, please…”

“I got scared! I- I’m horrible at the relationship thing, Kate. Like, certifiably bad”. Seeing that she hadn’t left the kitchen yet, he kept talking. “ We’ve been doing this for over a month and I kept telling myself that you and I were friends, that we would never be more than friends. Because I was sure that was the only thing you would like to be after the way I treated you the first time we met”. He walked towards her and stopped only centimetres away. “Then breakfasts became lunches and after that, you took me to dinner. I was half-convinced I was imagining things when you…”

“When I kissed you at White’s”.

“I know you’ll think I’m saying this because I’m in the doghouse but that was the best night of my life”. Kate rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m serious,” he insisted, creasing his forehead. “The more I thought about it, the more I knew I would say something stupid sooner or later and I didn’t want to scare you away”.

“Anthony,” she said, taking his forearm in her hand, “it’s not like what you’ve been doing is keeping me close”.

He rubbed his temple with his free hand. “I didn’t want to say something stupid…”

“Stupid like what?” Anthony shrugged but his cheeks turned slightly pink. “So instead you did something stupid?”

“Apparently”.

Her phone pinged in her hand once again. She should run away now, she realised, now that the damage would be minimal. There was something about him, however, that compelled her to stay. Kate pulled on his forearm and took a step towards him. His eyes widened as her lips touched his cheek.

“I’ll see you Monday,” she told him as she left, “and Anthony?”

“Yes?”

“The next time you are scared of saying something stupid, write it down until you find a smart way of doing it”.

[harmonizingsunsets]

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Day 5 of Kate and Anthony week. Prompt: scared of my wife

Archive link here.

While being a viscountess has become easier over the years, it still gets overwhelming.

As the ball rages on the inside, Kate finds herself in the gardens. Her throat is sore from making introductions, her cheeks ache from forcing smiles on those who ask about the decor for the hundredth time, and her feet scream in pain from wearing shoes made for fashion instead of comfort.

Kate sits down on the bench, closing her eyes and taking a long breath. She knows she can’t be gone for too long. But, perhaps, a few moments of solitude could amend her spirit.

This was the first event they’ve hosted since the birth of Miles. While Kate profoundly loves her two sons, her energy hasn’t quite yet returned to normal. Kate wishes she was like Daphne, who seemed to snap back after birth quickly, radiating perfection.

Kate thinks she has never radiated perfection, but she would settle for being a dazzling or even just an adequate hostess.

But most dazzling hostesses don’t escape to the gardens, running from their own home.

“Wanted to be alone in the gardens, Miss?”

Kate doesn’t jump at the voice, as she recognizes it as well as her own.

She turns to the man approaching her. “Well, I was alone until about two seconds ago.”

Anthony nears the bench, bracing a hedge behind him and leaning towards her. “It’s scandalous to be here, under the moonlight and among such lovely roses with a man by your side.”

“I intended to be here by myself, my lord,” Kate huffs. She plays along with him, pretending they’re strangers instead of two people whose souls are intimately entwined. “You’re the one bringing scandal here, which seems fitting. You look like the sort who stirs up gossip wherever you go.”

Anthony sits next to her. “And you look like the sort who brings chaos wherever she goes.”

“What chaos am I stirring up by merely sitting on a bench?” Kate asks with amusement.

“Your daydreaming is chaotic. It was so loud that I could hear it from inside the house.”

His fingers brush against hers on the bench. Even after all these years, his touch still tugs at her heart.

“You’re right. I was daydreaming.”

Anthony’s eyes sparkle, his face ghosting close to hers. “May I ask who of?”

“Who says it was of a person?” Kate retorts, enjoying the way he appears disappointed. “People can daydream about all sorts of things.”

“They can, but I can tell you had a particular person in mind,” he insists, furling their fingers together. “Someone who knows how to handle a mallet, who is an excellent dancer, and who dearly loves his wife and children.”

Kate turns her head up to the night sky. “I bet he’s also rather righteous. He does anything he can for those he cares for and does it with joy.” While she’s not looking at him, she can see Anthony’s smile in the stars. “I also surmise that he knows how to make someone laugh and is the perfect shoulder to lean on when you find yourself in the dark.”

Anthony edges closer to her, their bodies brushing. “I also think this man knows when the one he loves is troubled. He seeks her out when she withdraws, wanting to brighten her spirits.”

Kate sighs, meeting Anthony’s affectionate but worried gaze. While she figured most people wouldn’t notice her absence, Anthony, of course, did. Even before they were married, they seemed to sense when one another was in a room. They both felt the pull—the need to be close.

Anthony also has an insight into Kate’s being. He can perceive things about her that no one, not even herself at times, notices. His ability to know her so well is maddening and alleviating all at once.

“This man we paint sounds too good to be true,” Kate says playfully, trying to shift the mood between them. “From my experience, men have more faults than virtues. So, why waste time daydreaming about a man who couldn’t possibly exist?”

“Perhaps the man is closer than you think,” Anthony whispers, his lips ghosting close to hers.

“Or perhaps, you’re the one caught up in daydreams,” Kate murmurs.

She almost kisses him but inches away at the last second. He makes a disgruntled sound, causing her to laugh.

“I do daydream quite a bit these days,” Anthony begins to say, causing her to look at him quizzically. “Getting older, I’ve learned to limit my acquaintances to those who are not fools. That means my circle is rather sparse, so I must spend the time entertaining myself with my thoughts.”

Kate smirks. “And who do these thoughts pertain to?”

“A woman, one with a wicked tongue, her words lethal but her mouth pleasingly soft,” he answers, his thumb gently tracing the line of her lips. “Her beauty is incomparable. I believe she has a rope around the sun, making everything around her radiate with light.”

She begins to roll her eyes in disagreement, but Anthony distracts her. A hand curls around her waist. He pulls them flush against one another in one fluid motion, causing her to shiver with desire.

“She illuminates the dark parts of one’s soul they thought would always remain undisturbed,” Anthony continues, kissing her jaw. “She’s also a dedicated mother, friend, and wife. She keeps her husband on her toes. But, she also manages to be the calm of every storm he encounters.”

Kate feels tears welling in her eyes at his words. But before any can fall, Anthony’s there to catch them with his fingers, brushing them away.

“She’s a woman of many multitudes,” Anthony states, kissing her cheek so tenderly that it makes her dizzy. “She gracefully wields every facet of her being.”

“She sounds like a fearsome creature,” Kate notes, clearing her throat to try to regain her senses. “What would you do if you stumbled upon such a menace?”

“I’ll have you know that I have stumbled upon such a creature.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, and I did the only thing you can do when you meet a woman who shakes you to your very core.”

“Which is?”

Anthony grins. “Marry her.”

Kate closes the distance between them in an instant, crushing their lips together. The tremendous weight she felt before lessens as they kiss. Kate finds Anthony’s embrace to be as much of a home as the one in the distance filled with guests.

When they part, Kate quirks her head. “Are you still scared of this woman?”

“I’d be a fool if I weren’t,” Anthony chuckles, his thumb painting shapes on her cheek. “But it also makes for a much more exciting and fulfilling life.”

As Anthony stands, Kate takes his hand he offers to her. When they’re halfway to the house, Kate pauses.

“Anthony?”

“Yes?”

She turns to him and smiles in earnest for the first time that night. “You’re better than any daydream.”

Anthony’s arm goes around her shoulders. He presses a kiss to her temple and whispers, “So are you, my dear wife.”

[harmonizingsunsets]

You came just like a flower in my darkest hour, bloom in the night, cereus bright

Kate and Anthony Week Day 3: Something stupid like I love you

(This got away from me lol, so I’m posting the archive link).

[kateanthonyweek]

We started a collection! You can now add your Kate x Anthony Week fics posted on AO3 to the Collection so they are all easy to find!

If you are posting on Tumblr or joining the fun on Twitter make sure to use the tags so we can see your posts and reblog them!!

[kateanthonyweek]

Now that Kate and Anthony Week 2021 has finished I wanted to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart. When we started planning KatexAnthonyWeek we never thought it would go this way!

I'd like to give a bit of backstory to those who don't know it. As it turns out both @apreciouslife and I had the idea of creating a week to celebrate Kate and Anthony and posted about it the same day (I believe at about the same time) on different social media sites. So, we messaged back and forth for a bit and we decided we wanted to collab right away.

I want to thank my wonderful partner in crime first of all, because working with her has been a joy and I couldn't have done it without her.

Our concepts were different, but we knew that we wanted to make the week great for as many people as possible and that we wanted to make participation easy. So the dual week happened on both Twitter and Tumblr.

We never thought people would write so many fics, or be as passionate about the polls and questions on Twitter. I think that I can speak for both of us and say that reading Twitter threads, fics, the discussion about the different favourite quotes and scenes, and seeing all the edits has been more than either of us expected.

So, truly, thank you all: from the person who suggested be collabed, to those who have created content during the week. Especially thanks to the ones who have read the fics, left kudos and comments, liked, retweeted and reblogged. This week couldn't have been what it is without all of you.

See you all next year 🥰🥰.

[coveredinbees]

Kate and Anthony Week - Day 3.

Prompt: "Something Stupid Like I Love You"

“I’ve actually been thinking I ought to provide Edwina with a dowry.”

He said it so casually; in the same tone of voice he might use to enquire about the weather, or ask her to pass the salt. Brushing shortbread crumbs off his coat, he wasn’t even looking at her when he said it. It took Kate a moment for her to fully understand what he was trying to say.  

A dowry. For Edwina.