That he might not be able to live without her was something he refused to consider.
* * *
“If I might offer you a piece of advice?” Colin said, munching on his walnut.
“You might not,” Anthony replied. He looked up. Colin was chewing with his mouth open. As this had been strictly forbidden while growing up in their household, Anthony could only deduce that Colin was displaying such poor manners only to make more noise. “Close your damned mouth,” he muttered.
Colin swallowed, smacked his lips, and took a sip of his tea to wash it all down. “Whatever you did, apologize for it. I know you, and I’m getting to know Kate, and knowing what I know—”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Anthony grumbled.
“I think,” Benedict said, leaning back in his chair, “that he’s telling you you’re an ass.”
THE DUKE AND I
“I was prepared to kill you for dishonoring her,” Anthony said to Simon. “If you damage her soul, I guarantee you will never find peace as long as you live. Which,” he added, his eyes turning slightly harder, “would not be long.”
“I simply refuse to deal with idiots . . . It has cut my social obligations in half.”
ON THE WAY TO THE WEDDING
THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME
“You’re far more caring a person than you’d like people to believe,” Kate said.
Since he wasn’t going to be able to win the argument with her—and there was little point in contradicting a woman when she was being complimentary—Anthony put a finger to his lips and said, “Shhh. Don’t tell anyone.”
* * *
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice even and intense, “and listen well, because I’m only going to say this once. I desire you. I burn for you. I can’t sleep at night for wanting you. Even when I didn’t like you, I lusted for you. It’s the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is. And if I hear one more word of nonsense from your lips, I’m going to have to tie you to the bloody bed and have my way with you a hundred different ways, until you finally get it through your silly skull that you are the most beautiful and desirable woman in England, and if everyone else doesn’t see that, then they’re all bloody fools.”
* * *
“Love isn’t about being afraid that it will all be snatched away. Love’s about finding the one person who makes your heart complete, who makes you a better person than you ever dreamed you could be. It’s about looking in the eyes of your wife and knowing, all the way to your bones, that she’s simply the best person you’ve ever known.”
IT’S IN HIS KISS
“My sister Hyacinth,” the viscount said slowly, walking toward the window, “is a prize. You should remember that, and if you value your skin, you will treat her as the treasure she is.”
Gareth held his tongue. It didn’t seem the correct time to chime in.
“But while Hyacinth may be a prize,” Anthony said, turning around with the slow, deliberate steps of a man who is well familiar with his power, “she isn’t easy. I will be the first one to admit to this. There aren’t many men who can match wits with her, and if she is trapped into marriage with someone who does not appreciate her . . . singular personality, she will be miserable.”
Still, Gareth did not speak. But he did not remove his eyes from the viscount’s face.
And Anthony returned the gesture. “I will give you my permission to marry her,” he said. “But you should think long and hard before you ask her yourself.”
“What are you saying?” Gareth asked suspiciously, rising to his feet.
“I will not mention this interview to her. It is up to you to decide if you wish to take the final step. And if you do not . . .” The viscount shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling in an oddly Gallic gesture. “In that case,” he said, sounding almost disturbingly calm, “she will never know.”
How many men had the viscount scared off in this manner, Gareth wondered. Good God, was this why Hyacinth had gone unmarried for so long? He supposed he should be grateful, since it had left her free to marry him, but still, did she realize her eldest brother was a madman?
“If you don’t make my sister happy,” Anthony Bridgerton continued, his eyes just intense enough to confirm Gareth’s suspicions about his sanity, “then you will not be happy. I will see to it myself.”
TO SIR PHILLIP, WITH LOVE
“You are a Bridgerton. I don’t care who you marry or what your name becomes when you stand up before a priest and say your vows. You will always be a Bridgerton, and we behave with honor and honesty, not because it is expected of us, but because that is what we are.”
ANTHONY, ACCORDING TO HIS FAMILY . . .
“I’m thankful every day I wasn’t born in Anthony’s shoes. . . . The title, the family, the fortune—it’s a great deal to fit on one man’s shoulders.”
COLIN, The Viscount Who Loved Me
Anthony’s arms were crossed, never a good sign. Anthony was the Viscount Bridgerton, and had been for more than twenty years. And while he was, Gregory would be the first to insist, the very best of brothers, he would have made a rather fine feudal lord.
On the Way to the Wedding
“If Anthony isn’t a rake, I pity the woman who meets the man who is.”
SIMON, The Duke and I
“No one smirks quite like my eldest brother.”
DAPHNE, The Viscount Who Loved Me
2
Kate
Weddings are a frequent topic within these pages, but wedding presents are not—until now. It seems that Lady Bridgerton (current, not dowager) has bestowed upon her niece a most curious nuptial gift. The niece in question is Lady Alexandra Rokesby, who enjoyed a quiet but successful season last year under the expert eye of the other Lady Bridgerton (dowager, not current). Lady Alexandra, it seems, has also spent many an idyllic afternoon with her Bridgerton cousins at Aubrey Hall, in Kent.
It is worth noting that when Bridgertons gather in the countryside, they like to play Pall Mall.
There are nuances to this tale that only a Bridgerton might understand, but Pall Mall is apparently something they take very seriously. This Author has it on the best authority that there is no player more fiercely competitive than Lady Bridgerton (current, not dowager) herself.
This is where the tale grows strange. During one of these games, Kate (as Lady Bridgerton is known to her family) presented to Alexandra a black mallet. The significance of this gesture is beyond This Author’s ability to discern, but significant it must have been, as the moment was met with gasps of astonishment amongst the (Bridgertonian) crowd. And surely it cannot be a coincidence that Lord Bridgerton was seen later that afternoon knee-deep in the lake.
And the wedding gift? Not the original mallet; that, we are told, was merely a ceremonial gesture. Instead, Lady Bridgerton commissioned an elegant Pall Mall set from a master in Milan. Containing a black mallet with lettering engraved in gold. Gold, Dear Reader!