#random ass shit that pop into my head while i relive the same kanthony moments over and over again lol

[galadrielette]

an unthinkable fate, indeed

“Miss Edwina,” Anthony starts, licking his lips nervously. He’s changed his clothes after that embarrassing display at the Serpentine earlier that day but he still feels damp, somehow. “I wish to discuss something you said today on our promenade.”

“Oh?” Edwina replies with surprise that quickly smoothes into pleased delight. It is unlike him to bring up past conversations. He’s made it a point to discuss only the present and the future with Miss Edwina because that is what she is - the very real present and the soon to real future. It was inevitable. “And what did I say that sparked such a discussion, my lord?”

“You said something about love moving swiftly,” Anthony offers, hesitant to continue the quotation. “We were discussing Miss Sharma and Mr Dorset.”

“Oh yes!” Edwina agrees with a knowing glint to her eye. “I’m pleased that you noticed as well, my lord. They really do make a fine pair and Mr Dorset is already aware of many of the customs Kate would insist upon should they marry. Can you think of a finer incentive to keep her in England other than love? And I do want her to find love as we have, she deserves nothing less.”

Anthony clears his throat, focusing on the now and not the thought of Miss Sharma with Dorset, not the feel of her hand in his again for the second time that day, not the way she had looked at him - so exasperated but in the fond way one has with friends. None of that would help him now. 

“Yes, well, I am not discussing your sister’s marriage prospects,” Anthony mutters, hoping that his distaste for that particular subject is not too noticeable. “I am actually referring to us - you and I, that is, and what it is that is between us.”

“Oh,” she repeats, slightly less enthused. Her smile fades into a concerned frown that barely reaches her eyes. A useful skill for one who wishes to travel amongst the upper echelon of society. It’s another sign of how perfectly she would fulfill the role he needs of her. “And what, my lord, do you believe is between us?”

“Respect,” he says quickly with little thought. Edwina nods but he can see the disappointment in her eyes, all the same. “The utmost respect for our roles and duties in life - the parts that we must play moving forward as the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton. Not to mention the respect we clearly harbor for each other.”

“And is that all that exists between us?” Edwina asks. Her voice remains light and sweet but he can feel the dread pouring off of her in waves. “Respect?”

“And friendship,” he continues. There is no other way, nothing else he can do, but to push ahead. He owes the woman he plans to marry that much, does he not? “Or at least, the beginnings of a friendship. One that I already cherish.”

Edwina turns away from him sharply, her hands curling into fists in her lap. She clenches her jaw and blinks away the tears that burn her eyes. Anthony exhales slowly, feeling as if a weight is being lifted off of his shoulders as he continues to speak, “I admit that this is a conversation we should have had some time ago but I had thought you understood.”

“And what,” Edwina whispers, keeping her gaze averted. “Is it I am to have understood?”

“I wish to be practical, Miss Edwina,” Anthony starts. “I think we will find ourselves much more comfortable with our situation moving forward once we understand what it is that we expect.”

“Practical,” Edwina repeats, voice hollow, bracing herself for the final blow.

“Yes,” Anthony says with a nod. He does not look at her anymore, instead focusing on the painting behind her head. “This is not a love match and, as such, you should not expect love. There are certain things I cannot give you and love is one of them.”

“I see.”

“Do you?” he asks, desperately. 

“You have made your stance on the subject very clear, my lord,” Edwina snaps, the sharpest he’s ever heard her. She stands up, hands still curled into fists at her side. “I feel a sudden headache coming on. Forgive me, my lord, if I do not see you out.”

She does not wait for him to say anything before offering him a short bob of a curtsy and hurrying out of the drawing room in a blur of pink silk.