Chapter Text
Anthony stood behind his family on the steps of Aubrey Hall’s entrance as he watched Benedict and Colin say their goodbyes. Teary-eyed hugs had been exchanged and promises of letters had been made and it was finally time for his brothers to get into their carriage and be on their way.
Violet had managed to get herself out of bed that day, which was clearly a good sign. She hugged each of her sons fiercely, whispering promises that Anthony could not make out but imagined he understood. ‘If you have any issues, write to me at once and I’ll have you home before dinner .’ or ‘ You will send word if you have need of anything, won’t you? ’. He had heard them a thousand times before, as had Ben. He was sure Colin would hear it again and even Greg when his time came to leave. Still, Violet stood there, gripping Collin in a tight hug, her eyes glistening with tears.
"Look out for him, will you?" Anthony's second brother asked his fiancée, nodding his head in the direction Anthony stood, pretending he could not hear the whispered conversation about his person.
"Of course I will." Benedict hugged Kate tightly for a moment, kissing her cheek before he turned to Anthony, wrapping his older brother in his arms so tight the Viscount could scarcely breathe.
“You’ll write, yes?” Ben’s voice was low, meant only for his brother to hear. “Even if you don’t really need it.”
“I’ll write,” Anthony assured him with a pat on his back.
“And you’ll send for me if you do need me.” It was not a question as much as an order.
"I will."
"Promise it."
"I promise." Anthony wrapped his hand around his brother's, squeezing in assurance. "Although I am sure you have already enlisted Kate to your cause and she will inform you if she believes me to be in any need of your presence, whether I believe myself in need of it or not."
"Do not think I won't." She warned him from the step above.
"I would never dream of it."
" Even so ," Benedict interrupted before the conversation spiralled out of hand and turned into a bickering match. "I would prefer hearing it from you anyhow. Kate's help is only a form of assurance since we know you can be a bit of a self-sacrificing git who does not know how to ask for help at times."
"Gosh, I am touched by how lovingly you view my person, Brother." Anthony rolled his eyes more dramatically than he really felt. "It is a wonder you shall survive without my presence at all."
"Well, candour is a quality we should always strive for, is it not?"
"As is temperance, I suppose," Anthony muttered, making Ben laugh. "It is good to know you're proficient in at least one of them."
"Alas," Benedict announced with a flourish and Anthony could hear the choked giggles coming from Kate as she stood behind him. "Perfection is unattainable, thus we must satisfy ourselves with what is achievable instead."
"I shall miss you, you pompous arse." Anthony reached out, resting his hand on his first little brother's shoulder and offering him a reassuring squeeze.
"As will I, obviously." Benedict offered him a sad little smile back as he rested his hand above his eldest brother's. "And I suppose I'll have to miss you too." He turned his eyes to Kate offering her a teasing grin. "And maybe there will even be some space in my heart to miss the two of you as well."
Anthony's heart soared at the sound of Eloise and Frannie's gentle giggles as Benedict moved towards them with a roar, engulfing the two little girls in a hug that lifted their feet off the ground. Slowly but surely, life was healing around them, reshaping itself to the new reality of a world without Edmund Bridgerton.
He had been so lost in contemplation, basking at the playful back-and-forth between Benedict and their seven-year-old sister that he only realised Colin had left the comfort of their mother's embrace and was standing, instead, right in front of him when his second brother cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I'll see you for Christmas, I guess."
"I suppose so."
"Until then, then," Colin muttered, offering his hand for a shake and Anthony was surprised to find the usual anger he had been encountering time after time behind his little brother's green eyes replaced by a nervous vulnerability. The third Bridgerton's gaze flickered between his eldest brother's face to his outstretched hand as if he was half afraid Anthony would refuse the polite greeting.
Anthony knew he had promised himself he would allow Colin his space to come to terms with his own emotions and he would not push any sort of conversation or contact if the thirteen-year-old did not wish to initiate it but it hurt him to imagine any of his siblings would ever believe he would refuse an olive branch extended by them.
Without giving himself much time to reconsider or second-guess himself, Anthony wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders, pulling him into his chest in a tight hug similar to the one he had just exchanged with Benedict.
Colin stood as stiff as a board in his eldest brother's arms and, for a second, he feared he crossed some invisible limit, demanding more than the younger boy could handle, and he would certainly end up pushed away in a second. Instead, after a few beats, he felt his little brother's body gradually relax, his arms wrapping themselves tentatively around Anthony's back as he buried his nose in Anthony's shoulder.
"I need you to be brave, brother." He whispered into Colin's hair. "I know it is hard but I wish for you all to be well above all, I promise you." His brother did not give an indication to be listening; not a nod or a response, he had not even lifted his head, but he continued to hold onto Anthony, his hands fisted at the back of his coat. "If it ever becomes too much, or if you need anything at all, write home and I'll have a carriage sent the day I get your correspondence."
Anthony pushed away from his brother, keeping his hand on the younger boy's shoulder as he studied his face. Colin was not crying, although his face had turned a funny shade of red. His bright green eyes stared back at Anthony with such a heady mix of feelings, anger tied together with regret, sorrow and longing put together right next to shame and it made him dizzy. It had been years since he'd seen such raw vulnerability in his second youngest brother.
Countless times, Anthony considered going back on his decision and allowing his brothers to stay and miss the entire semester. He questioned himself endlessly to the point once or twice he had actually picked up his quill to start a letter to the School before he talked himself out of it. Would it really be for the best if they left? Would they just suffer more away from all that was familiar and comfortable?
It had been his aunt Billie's assurance it was the right choice, along with Uncle George's, Mr Sharma and Lady Mary's, all of them telling him that school would offer his brothers the distraction from the issues and the necessary distance from the ever-looming presence of Edmund Bridgerton that filled every nook and cranny of the estate to assist them on their healing.
‘Life could not stop for the living because of the dead’, his Aunt had told him time and again.
Yet, staring at Colin's nerves, written in his features as plainly as the light of day, Anthony once again second-guessed himself, even if there was no longer time to change his mind now. The carriage was loaded and waiting, the school expecting them by the end of the day.
He would soon discover whether his decision had been the right or wrong one anyhow, would he not?
"Take care, brother." Anthony received no response from Colin as he offered his baby brother one last pat on the shoulder, the thirteen-year-old pressing his lips tightly together before turning around and marching towards the carriage. Benedict threw one last sorrowful smile and a nod of his head in Anthony's way before following Colin inside.
Daphne lost the fight with the tears she had been valiantly holding back the second the carriage door closed behind Benedict, their brother's head popping by the parted blinds to offer them another wave, her little body shaking and loud hiccupy sobs choking at her throat. The sight of their eldest sister's crying seemed to unleash the flood in the two younger ones, Eloise trying almost violently to rub away the wetness at her cheeks, looking angry to be crying in the first place while Frannie did not look at least troubled to share her sorrows with the world, her wails filling up the courtyard.
Violet had been crying since before they had crossed the hall towards the waiting carriage and tears continued to flood down her cheeks as she stood without moving a muscle, her eyes stuck to the departing coach, which grew smaller in the distance by the second.
Anthony allowed them a few moments to themselves and their own grief, feeling the tightness of sorrow and uncertainty in his chest constrict painfully, although his eyes remained dry. In the months since Edmund's death, tears seemed to come less often, mostly when he was pushed to the limit of overwhelmness and exhaustion.
It did not mean he did not feel the hurt just as acutely without their aid. There were times he wished desperately for a good cry.
The few moments came and went but his mother did not seem inclined to leave her trance-like position staring at the horizon with wet cheeks, nor did his sisters seem they would manage to stop their crying on their own. It was a mark on how well he and Kate knew each other, that all it took was a shared look over Daphne's head for his fiancée to understand exactly what he needed, bursting into action in a blink.
"Girls," Kate muttered softly, brushing a stray tear from her own cheek as she lay one hand on Daph's shaky shoulder comfortingly. "Why don’t you come with me? I was thinking, I am sure I can convince your governess to spare you so we could have a picnic, instead of lessons today." Francesca's wails dimmed as Eloise nodded her head furiously, a pout still firmly on her face and Daphne's face began to turn red with the effort to keep her sobs at bay. "Why don't we go inside and see if Cook can get us some yummy pastries and some lemonade we can pack? Maybe some sandwiches too."
It did not take much for Kate to manage to usher the three young girls inside, even with wetness still collecting in their eyes and a few moments later, only Anthony and Violet stood on the steps, no sound echoing around them but their breathing and the rustling of the wind against the tree leaves.
Unlike the girls, there was no bribing Violet Bridgerton into coming inside with the promise of sweets and picnics and pushing her in any way before she was ready. It would only result in either a scene or his mother shutting in on herself once more, neither option being something he was interested in dealing with at the moment, so Anthony waited quietly next to his mother, his hands tucked together at his back. He knew she knew he was there, it was only a matter of time until she somehow acknowledged him and returned inside.
“Your father would not have agreed to this, had he been here,” Violet whispered after a couple of minutes, her face impassive as she continued to stare onto the horizon, even after Anthony's head snapped her way, his eyes narrowing dangerously at her words. “He’d want all of us together.”
Anthony had been trying quite hard to allow his mother a bit of mercy and understanding. She had lost very much and he knew, deep inside, that she had no control over her overlapping, overpowering emotions. Yet it was difficult to do so with irritation thrumming deeply in his chest, mixing dangerously with the sorrow and guilt that had taken permanent residence inside him since his father's passing.
“Had Father been here, making this decision wouldn’t have been necessary.” His voice was as cold as the chilling Autumn wind blowing at their faces, his eyes harder than they had been a second before.
And really, there was nothing else to be said after that, was there?
Anthony barely lifted his eyes from the papers he was working on when the knock sounded on the study door. Most of the house was already settled into bed at this time of the night and the only people who would try to speak to him were his valet or Mrs Lewis, coming to inquire if he would be needing anything before they retired for the night as well. If it was about a month back, it could have been Kate, although she rarely knocked, and the times she did, she hardly ever waited for an answer before barging in. Still, he always wished it was her.
Alas, it was most certainly not his fiancée, for when his brothers had departed to Eton at the beginning of October, Kate had been, if not forced, at least harshly coerced into returning to Norwood Manor. Yes, Anthony was aware that until the day they were married, Norwood Manor was officially her home, but he reserved himself the right not to like it.
And now, as the cold winds of November started to howl around the dark corridors, Anthony desperately regretted letting her go. Not that he had any power over the decision at all. And not that he had not missed her every single bloody night since she had to leave. She still spent most of the day in Aubrey Hall, coming in the morning, sometimes bringing Edwina and Mary along with her and sometimes riding all the way from Norwood, her hair always windswept, escaping from her braids when she dismounted on the front steps. But as soon as dinner was finished, and sometimes even before it was even served, Kate was escorted home, sometimes by her parents, other times by a well-meaning maid or valet, sent especially to fetch her.
Anthony regretted deeply not jumping into a coach and carrying her all the way to Scotland when they had the chance. She'd be there with him at that moment if he had.
Alas, they had not and because of that, he sat alone in the cold study, buried in his work to hide from sleep. Sleep had not been nearly as easy as it had been when Kate was there.
The door creaked open but the person behind it did not don Bridgerton livery. Instead, when Anthony lifted his head to face the new arrival, he found himself being stared at by an unmistakable pair of vibrant blue eyes marred by redness brought by the tears running down her cheeks.
" Frannie ." His voice was just a notch above a whisper, his face twisting into concern as he watched the six-year-old tuck her hands in front of her nervously. "What's wrong?" She shrugged helplessly, her little fingers twisting over the soft fabric of her night dress. He was sure it was too late for his sister to be awake and a flicker of his eyes to the pocketwatch his father had gifted to him at the age of eight confirmed it. Midnight had run by them and one in the morning was fast approaching. His siblings had been tucked to bed hours before. "Could you not sleep?" Francesca shook her head negatively, her head moving side to side wildly, sending locks of her brown hair flying around her, her eyes watering again. Anthony's expression morphed from worry to gentle understanding as he watched her trembling hand butcher the sleepwear. "Did you have a nightmare?"
Francesca nodded. Anthony should have guessed. He, himself, had been plagued with his fair share of night terrors that had kept him from closing his eyes as he lay in bed, he was sure some of his siblings were the same. He was about to offer her some sort of comfort, a hug or some words of consolation, although he was not sure which when the little girl surprised him.
"May I stay here for a bit with you?" If Anthony had not been staring at his sister's face intently as he considered what to say, he would have thought he had imagined the whispered words entirely. In the four months since Edmund Bridgerton had passed, Francesca had not uttered a single word, not to him, nor Kate, neither to their other siblings, their mother or the staff. Even Eloise or Edwina, who were the closest to her, said she had not spoken to them, although they've always shared this uncanny ability to understand each other without any words at all. " Please ?"
"Frannie..." Anthony forced himself to school his face into a soft, soothing expression, ignoring the way his heart was pounding in his chest. He would not make a big deal out of it, no matter how much of a big deal it was. For all the reports, those were his sister's first words in months. Still, he feared if he made a fuss over that sentence spoken in a whisper in the middle of the night, Francesca might retreat into herself once more and who knew how long it would take to pull her back out again. And all she needed at the moment, with her cheeks still wet and her night clothes butchered in her fists was comfort and reassurance. "Of course you can."
He was up in a jump, considering the best way to accommodate the little girl. He could offer her to sit on his lap and allow him to hold her but neither of them would be comfortable like that, with all the shifting around Anthony did while he worked. He wished his sister to find rest and she would never be able to do it being jostled from side to side as he reached for a paper or quill.
It was Kate, in the end, who offered him the best idea, or at least the memory of his fiancée. The memory of all those hours she'd keep him company in the study, sitting idly watching him work, her book on her lap as she curled up on the big armchair that usually was by the fire. She'd explain to him, as he watched her drag the heavy furniture piece across the room near his desk, that she could not see him from its original position and she'd like to be able to look at him as she read.
The large chair would be perfect for his little sister, he decided, setting himself in motion. Frannie would be able to see him and assure herself she wasn't alone, while still making herself comfortable enough to maybe rest some more. And if she had any more of her nightmares, she'd open her eyes and realise she was not alone, that he was watching over her, like he'd always be. He could never replace what their family had lost, but at least he could make Frannie feel safe.
It took some pulling and pushing with heavy grunts until the soft chair was placed where he wanted it, where Kate usually put it.
"There you have it." Francesca walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the chair and Anthony's face crumbled as he watched tears mare his little sister's eyes once more. "I can move it if you don't like the position, or if you want to..." There was not enough time for him to finish his sentence before Frannie wrapped her short arms around him, blurring her face at his middle, squeezing him as best she could. He didn't need words to understand what she was trying to say. "You're very welcome sister."
Frannie smiled up at him, her cheeks wet and her eyes red, but her lips still curled upwards and the sight sent a flood of warmth through him. They were not healed, any of them, and it was possible they would never completely be again, but they were getting better, bit by bit. Daphne and her crying, Eloise and her inability to sleep, Francesca and her muteness, Colin and his anger, Ben and his need to withdraw into himself, they would be alright, eventually. Not the same as before, never that, but alright.
Perhaps that could be enough.
He waited until his sister climbed into the velvety seat, finding the perfect position before he fished a soft quilt from the back of the long settee and dropped it around his sister, brushing her cheek with the back of his finger, a gentle smile firmly on his lips before he returned to his desk.
Anthony could not tell how long they sat there like this, Frannie curled on the armchair and him working from behind his desk. Every once in a while he'd lift his eyes from the letter or contract or ledger he was working on to get a little glimpse at his sister, whom he usually found watching him right back. Yet, with every glance, her eyes grew smaller, her eyelids heavier with each blink, until a particularly long sigh caught Anthony's attention and he looked up to find she had fallen asleep, her cheek resting on her small arms, crossed over the arm of the seat, the quilt wrapped safely around her little shoulders.
He forced his attention back to the documents that required it, letting his sister find the slumber she so desperately needed for what felt close to another hour. It was only when his own vision began to blur, the letters in front of him all mashing together under the candlelight that he decided to call it a night. It was surely closer to dawn than it was to dusk either way and if Kate caught him sleeping at his desk again when she arrived in the morning, she'd certainly have words for him, and not pretty, romantic ones.
He yawned into his hand, stretching his arms above his head before he stood, lighting off the candles as he went, and as gently as he could, picked Francesca up, trying not to jostle her too much and wake her. Frannie, for her part, only let out another sleepy sigh, clutching to Anthony's shirt as she burrowed her face on his shoulder.
For a moment, he considered taking her to her own bed, letting her sleep away the rest of the night, as it seemed she was not planning on waking up again, but he knew nightmares had a way of sneaking up on a person and, even during slumber, her mind might be awake just enough to realise she's once again alone. He could sit by her bed, but he truly was tired and it would not be the most comfortable of positions to sleep in. He could take her to his bedroom, the bed is plenty large for the two of them, but he was afraid of his own sleep terrors getting a hold of him and waking his little sister up with a fright seemed like one of the worst ideas he ever had.
No, Anthony knew the best place he could put Frannie, where she wouldn't be alone and would be able to sleep the rest of the night in peace.
Eloise was sprawled in her bed, one of her legs hanging from the corner of it, her arm wrapped around a pillow and a bit of her hair stuck to her face and trapped at the corner of her mouth. She took most of the bed, her body almost diagonal as she slept, but it was not difficult to coach her gently to the side so he could lay Frannie down on the other half of the bed.
As if being able to feel her sister near, Eloise's outstretched hand reached out, feeling the bed until she found Francesca's head, petting it twice before blindly reaching out to take her hand. If Frannie was bothered by the strange sleepy patting and handling, it did not show, for she turned towards El's direction, placing their laced fingers between the two of them.
Anthony stood at the foot of the bed for what felt like hours but it was probably just a minute, watching his two little sisters cling to each other, feeling some strange, tight knot that had been steadily growing on his chest untie, leaving him lighter than he had been the hour before.
He tiptoed towards the door, still intent on not waking them, and stood on the doorway, watching the sleeping little girls briefly, and knowing, deep in his heart, that they would be alright. And then he left, closing the door behind him.
Kate's mouth moved a little desperately against him and Anthony could feel the pounding of her heart as her chest pressed against his and the trembling of her hands, her fingers curled tightly over the lapels of his coat, tugging at him in a hopeless attempt to keep him close.
In all honesty, Anthony was as inclined to step away from her as she was to let him go, but both of them knew their allotted time was coming to an end.
The winter holidays, which at one point had seemed so far away they might as well exist in another lifetime, had come and gone in a blink, so suddenly that it sent Anthony's mind reeling.
The first Christmas without Edmund had been more difficult than Anthony had predicted, which was saying something , considering that the last thing he had expected it to be was easy. They had finally started to return to a modicum of normalcy after tragedy had struck them, slowly but surely learning how to live their lives around the painful grief that had befallen them, only for the Holidays to come and shove them all back to what it had been the week after their father's passing.
Edmund had loved the winter holidays and every corner of the house, every little bit of decoration or special treat felt like a painful reminder that he would not be there to celebrate it with them any longer. He would not be there to see little Hyacinth's first Christmas, nor would he see any of the following ones. Paired that together with the knowledge that, once the celebrations were finished, Anthony would be forced to leave for university, which meant he would be gone at least until the Easter Holiday, made the entire thing nearly unbearable.
Frannie's mutism, which had slowly but surely vanished since the first time she spoke to Anthony in the study, had come back with full force for almost an entire week, and even after she had gone back to speaking, the sentences were short and few in number. Eloise had cried herself to sleep on two different occasions and had woken the entire house with her nightmares on two other nights. Colin, who had returned from Eton in brighter spirits than any of them had expected him to be, fell back into his irritated, angry state as the days went on until he was back to snapping at Daphne, who would once again promptly burst into tears, a thing she had not done for a full month. Benedict had returned to his quiet, sorrowful, contemplative state and little Greggy had become clingier than usual, throwing a massive tantrum when he was not being held, and sometimes even when he was, if the person holding him was not either their mother or Kate.
Kate had been the only reason Anthony had not spent the entire holiday locked in the study, wallowing in his misery and cataloguing all the ways he had failed to live to his father's memory during the past six months. She had refused to allow him more than a couple of hours of wallowing a day, before she came to fetch him, finding any and all activities to distract his tired mind from the gloom that had set over the entire house for Christmas. It did help that the Sharmas had agreed to stay at Aubrey Hall for the duration of the Holiday and Anthony was, once again, having proper rest as he shamelessly dragged his feet to Kate's room night after night. It was only out of respect for Mr Sharma and Lady Mary that he allowed a room to be set up for Kate at all, instead of insisting upon her sleeping in his since every person in the house was aware he'd end up finding his way to her sometime during the night anyhow. What was the worst that could happen, them being forced to be married? If not for the mourning period his family was in, Anthony would have done so ages ago.
Somehow, miraculously, they had all survived the Winter Holidays and the time Anthony and Kate had been preparing for and dreading for months had arrived. The trucks had been packed, the carriage was waiting and soon, Anthony would be forced to board the coach and depart for his first semester in university, leaving behind his beloved fiancée and his still grieving family, along with all the responsibility he had shouldered once the Viscountcy had fallen upon his young shoulder.
He wished to stay. He wished there was a way for him to postpone his departure, or to avoid it entirely, but the logical part of him knew it was not a possibility. Besides, delaying it would only mean he would have to do it at a later time when he was even more settled in his life and new duties. He had to leave, so he could come back, be done with University as quickly as possible, and then he could marry Kate.
It did not mean he had to like the idea though.
Anthony had risen slowly just as the sun did the same across the sky, wrapped safely in the comfort of Kate's embrace, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle and her cheek resting against his pulsing heart, her eyelids still closed and her breathing calm and soothing. He basked in the stillness for a few minutes, knowing that, after that morning, that particular comfort would be unachievable for some months as he watched Kate slowly rise to consciousness.
They had taken breakfast together before their families had even begun to rise, his hand firmly attached to hers as they ate before Anthony had sequestered them in the study for a proper, private goodbye.
He could feel the wetness of Kate's cheeks as he cupped her face with his hands, his thumb brushing the tears from her smooth skin.
"Do not cry. I cannot stand the sight of it." He begged her, pressing soft, tender kisses to the wet trails the droplets had left on her cheeks. "I'll be back before you have the time to miss me."
Kate let out a disbelieving little snort. "Do not be absurd." She shook her head, pressing her face tighter against his hand. "I shall miss you the moment you set off on that blasted carriage."
"As shall I, obviously."
"I should certainly hope you will." She huffed again, letting her head fall gently against his shoulder, the cold metal of his ring on her finger seeping through the layer of his shirt, where her hand was resting against his chest. "You'll be back for Easter, yes?"
"Yes." He agreed, although he had already assured her plenty of times he would return for the holiday. "And you will write? Like you used to do when I was away from Eton?"
"I do not know." She muttered, her watery chuckle sounding humourous. "I have so much to do, now that I am a betrothed young lady. My time is so requested these days." Anthony's laugh echoed in his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, basking on the entrancing smell of lilies and soap that never failed to soothe him. "I shall write even more than I did when you were away at Eton. You might be getting letters from me at least twice a week and I shall be quite cross if you do not respond to every single one of them, I'm afraid. You'll have your hands full with correspondence from me alone."
"I shall eagerly await to read and reply to every single one of them without fail." He whispered into her hair. "I wish I could take you with me."
"I wish so too."
It was wishful thinking and both of them were deeply aware of it. Between the mourning period his family was going through and his mother's still slow recovery from her grief and long bouts of Melancholia, it would be a serious offence to even suggest a wedding, only so he could have his bride accompany him to Oxford. Still, he wished every single day that they had decided to marry just as soon as the three banns were read, or even jumped into a carriage to Scotland, returning with a wedding ring over her finger. No one would dare pull him apart from her then.
Unfortunately, they had not known what the future had in store for them and thus now he was being forced to go to university on his own, leaving Kate behind with nothing but a promise that he would return eventually, that one day they would marry and that he would think of her every single day while he was away. Anthony already thought of her every second she was not in his presence, no matter if she was some miles away in her own home or just sitting in the next room, having tea with his sisters while he worked in the library. He could not imagine much would change when they were a whole day's trip away from each other. Actually, he was quite sure it would be much, much worse.
"Brother." Benedict knocked lightly on the door, shoving his head through the small crack to find the two of them still wrapped around each other, not bothering to pull away for the second-oldest Bridgerton boy. He had, after all, seen them in much more compromising positions than Anthony's nose pressed into Kate's hair, her face hidden in his neck, his arms wrapped around her waist and her hands pressed under his travelling coat. "I've bought you as much time as I could manage but the carriages are loaded and everything is ready for us."
"We will follow you in just a second." Anthony motioned with his head to dismiss Benedict, who rolled his eyes at the pair as he turned to leave, closing the door after him.
"I suppose it is time," Kate muttered glumly, her lovely brown eyes filling once again with the wetness of tears she was struggling to hold back.
"It is." His fingers brushed gently against her cheek for a mere second before trailing up her face to push an escaped lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers tangling against the locks as he leaned down to steal one last, desperate kiss from her tempting, plump lips. They pulled apart, his forehead leaning against hers, with his hand still locked in her hair, and he breathed deeply, trying to commit the flowery smell of her to memory. And then his lips curled upwards. "I believe there's one last thing I want."
"What is... Anthony!" The surprised huff that escaped when his nimble fingers tugged on the ribbon kept a portion of her coiffeur up, the heavy locks tumbling down from their neatly done up-do. "You ruined it."
"Nonsense. You look much lovelier with your hair down." He chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose playfully, lifting his hand to show her the teal ribbon laced around his fingers. "I believe I shall be keeping this."
"What a surprise." Kate rolled her eyes good-humoredly. She could no longer claim she would soon run out of ribbons, not when he had presented her with a large box filled with sets of hair ribbons of every colour imaginable. Anthony had pestered the haberdasher relentlessly for a whole entire month during his visits to the village so the man would procure as many different colours of ribbons as he could possibly get his hands on, as well as commissioning a wooden box with tulips carved on it from the carpenter's. He had watched as her eyes misted over when he handed her the box, her fingers tracing the flowers reverently and laughter bulling on her chest over the yards or ribbon inside. He'd even returned several he had stolen from her, the ones which had already stopped smelling like her. Because, well... there was no point in keeping them if they no longer smelled like the heady mixture of lilies and soap that had become forever linked in his head to Kate, was there?
"I will keep it with me." He told her, pocketing the fabric with the utmost care. "So I can keep you close to me at all times."
Kate all but melted in his arms at the words, her entire body pressing against his as she wrapped her arms around him, a tiny little sob escaping her lips much against her will. Anthony would have held her close to him forever, if not for Benedict's loud knock.
"Anthony, I am serious, they will..."
"We're coming!" He cut off his brother’s warning before sighing deeply against his fiancée's hair, pressing one last kiss to the top of her head before their fingers laced together and she allowed him to tug her out of the door and towards the courtyard.
Saying goodbye to the family had been a different level of torture. Benedict had reinstated his words from back in October, when only he was leaving and Anthony was staying behind, locking his brother and best friend in a tight embrace. Colin had initiated the hug this time, a clear sign that their relationship, like so much in Aubrey Hall, was on the mend. His heart twisted painfully in his chest as Frannie held onto him, refusing to let go, her face red and her little body shaking with hard sobs. Edwina and Eloise stood on either side of her once they managed to pry her away, both of them looking absolutely miserable as they planted a kiss on Anthony's cheek. Hyacinth clearly wasn't happy, although he was not particularly sure how much a six-month-old baby was able to understand the concept of his future prolonged absence. Still, she managed to make her distaste well-known to every resident in Aubrey Hall and possibly the ones in Crake and Norwood Manor with her loud, suffering wails, which had begun the second Anthony passed her to her Nanny and did not seem close to ending anytime soon.
Kate stood to the side, little Gregory held against her hip on one side and Daphne tucked safely against the other, her nose pressed against his fiancée's shoulder as she cried quietly. His first little sister had hugged him for a long moment, whispering against his neck "Can't you stay?"
"I wish I could, Daphy." Anthony felt his heartbreak for the millionth time that morning with her little resigned sigh. "I'll be back as soon as I possibly can."
She had pulled away, looking heartbroken as she burrowed against Kate's side, allowing the older girl to wrap an arm comfortingly around her. Greggy seemed to feel the whole sorrowful atmosphere and had been in a terrible mood since the day before. He had only agreed to go to bed if he was being tucked by Anthony himself, sitting up poutingly and refusing to consider closing his eyes if anyone else tried. On the other hand, this morning, he seemed to have permanently attached himself to Kate's hip, refusing to let go of her even to say his goodbyes to his older brother.
Lady Mary had offered him a sad smile, a warm, motherly hug and a pat on the cheek with instructions to eat properly and have enough sleep before passing him onto a fidgety Violet, who had just recently let go of Benedict. Despite the slightly tense feeling that had settled over the two of them since his brothers’ departure back in October, his mother did not hesitate to pull him into the tightest, fiercest of hugs before pulling back, her hand cupping his cheek as if he was still the same little nine-year-old boy and not ten and nine, forced to become a man way too early.
"My darling boy," She offered him a watery smile, her thumb brushing his cheekbone back and forth in a gentle caress. "You'll take care of yourself, won't you?"
"I will, Mother," Anthony replied dutifully, leaning closer to her touch.
"Good. And if there's any trouble, you know you can always come home, don't you?" Violet's tone was as wobbly as her fingers as she spoke quietly but fiercely. "Any trouble at all, just hop on the coach and we shall be waiting for you." Anthony nodded his head emphatically because he did not trust his own words to come out of his mouth in any intelligible way.
Anthony did not fight it when his mother tugged at him, allowing his body to bend along with her guidance until Violet could plant a soft kiss on his forehead, just as she had done a million times before as he was growing up.
The motion transported him back to the day after his mother's party, only six months before. The morning after he had proposed to Kate; When he had approached his mother for an engagement ring, his head pounding and his mouth dry while his heart was soaring with images of the rest of his life. His mother had been so excited, her belly so swollen with Hyacinth that she could barely walk properly and she had tugged on him exactly the same way, forcing him to bend enough so she could kiss his forehead as she used to do when he was just a lad.
They had both been so happy then, unaware of the darkness of the future looming threateningly above them. It was hard to believe it had happened just half a year before. It seemed like it had been a completely different lifetime.
"Safe travels, darling." She whispered against his skin, her cheeks wet. "I love you."
"I love you, Mother."
And then Violet was gone, brushing the tears away furiously as she reached out to try and soothe the inconsolable little Hyacinth, who did not seem any less prone to wailing like a banshee, leaving Anthony with one last person between him and the waiting carriages.
"All set and ready, son?" Arjun Sharma's voice was low as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Anthony.
"I suppose." There was absolutely no part of him that was ready to leave Aubrey Hall behind and Anthony suspected Mr Sharma knew this as well as he did. Arjun Sharma was no fool. He had known Anthony since he was a boy of eight years old and since Edmund's passing, he had been so supportive, helping with legal documents and the family investments whenever possible, that Anthony barely had the words for it. He doubted the gold-encrusted shaving razor he had gotten the man for Christmas would express even a tenth of how much he was thankful for everything Mr Sharma had done to them.
Around them, Kate's shoulders were still shaking with the silent tears, which ran like rivers down her cheeks, just like Daphne's were, Hyacinth was still screaming and Frannie's face had turned red from her sobs while Benedict and Colin quietly made their way inside the second awaiting carriage, both looking forlorn. Anthony had worked so hard to make sure everything was as settled as possible in the past few months, and when finally things seemed to be following a path to new normalcy, Anthony had to go, which would certainly send the entire household back into chaos.
"Do not worry about them, lad." Mr Sharma’s hand landed over his shoulder comfortingly.
"It's quite difficult to do that, sir," Anthony muttered, smacking himself for the bitter tone of his voice. He did not wish to sound ungrateful to his position in life or irritated in any way with his grieving family. Still, Mr Sharma's palm remained rested over his coat as the older man let out a knowing ‘hm’.
"I can imagine so." He nodded, his gaze swiping through the scene in front of them. "I'll make sure they're alright in your absence, you do not need to worry."
"That's very kind, sir, but..." The last thing Anthony wished was for his future father-in-law to think him incapable of caring for his own family or for him to consider his broken family unsuitable for his daughter, but Arjun lifted his hand, interrupting Anthony's babble of words, his lips curling softly upward and his eyes warm.
"Anthony, I meant what I said the morning you asked for Kate's hand." He squeezed Anthony's shoulder gently. "We are family. And we are men who take care of our family, aren't we, Son?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good lad." The older man offered one final clap to Anthony's shoulder before directing him towards the carriage. "Now, off you go, Son. Travel safe. She'll miss you."
Anthony did not have to ask who he was talking about. The moment Mr Sharma left his side, the space was filled by Kate, her hand wrapping itself around his. She had managed to return Gregory to Violet, Daphne valiantly holding back her tears as she clutched to Frannie.
She did not say anything, tears sliding quietly down her cheeks as she walked him to the open carriage that awaited him with their fingers firmly intertwined. Neither of them was any willing to let go, even as he climbed up the steps, only reluctantly pulling apart when the valet cleared his throat politely, waiting by the door.
"Hurry back, please." Her voice was wobbly as she stood just outside his coach, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, her tears catching on his fingers.
"I will be back as soon as I possibly can." Anthony did not care that their entire families stood just a few steps away as he leaned half his body out of the window, kissing her in a long, desperate way, her hands holding onto the lapels of his coat until her knuckles turned white. "Wait for me, my love."
"I will."
The sight of Kate standing in the gravel, her arms wrapped tightly against herself as she sobbed while the carriage pulled away from the driveway broke Anthony's heart in a manner he did not know his heart could be broken, pain shooting through his chest as he watched Mary pull Kate to her chest, holding onto her as she cried into her mother's shoulders, the sight of them growing smaller by the second until he could no longer see them.
Fighting every instinct to knock against the carriage's roof and demand the coachman to turn around, Anthony let his body fall against the cushions. He closed his eyes, ignoring the wetness collecting around them and the pain squeezing at his heart and prayed that time would go faster so he could come back home, to the place and to the people he knew deep inside he should never have left in the first place.