Chapter Text
The house was quiet. Not silent—Aubrey Hall could never truly be silent—but quieter than it had been in weeks.
The absence of Eloise’s voice alone seemed to soften the edges of the morning.
Kate sat curled in the drawing room window seat with Edmund in her lap, gently bouncing him as he chewed determinedly upon one of his own fists. Sunlight streamed across the carpet in broad golden pools, warming the room pleasantly.
Anthony looked up from where he sat nearby with a book half-open in his hand.
“It is strange,” he remarked.
Kate glanced over. “What is?”
“I’ve never heard it this quiet.”
Her lips curved faintly. “You dislike it?”
Anthony considered.
“No,” he admitted. “I simply noticed it. Do you dislike it?”
Kate looked down at Edmund, smiling as he let out a loud, indignant babble at his uncooperative fist.
“Not at all,” she said softly. “It is rather lovely being only the three of us.”
Something warm flashed across Anthony’s expression at that. He set the book aside.
“Well,” he announced, rising from his chair, “in that case, I believe the three of us ought to do something terribly domestic.”
Kate laughed softly. “And what do you propose?”
“The orangery.”
At once her face brightened. “Oh, that is a lovely idea.”
Anthony crossed the room and scooped Edmund carefully from her arms before the boy could protest the relocation too loudly.
“Come along then, Lord Bridgerton,” he said solemnly to his son. “We shall inspect your mother’s jungle.”
Edmund squealed at once, delighted by absolutely everything his father said to him. Kate laughed as she rose to follow them.
The orangery was warm already despite the mild spring afternoon, sunlight pouring through the glass panes overhead in shifting patterns of gold and green.
The air smelled faintly of damp earth and citrus blossoms. Kate inhaled deeply the moment they entered.
They spread a thick blanket upon the tiled floor near the long daybed beneath the tallest leaves. Anthony lowered Edmund carefully onto it, one hand hovering nearby.
“I shall hold him upright,” he said. “Before he topples himself directly onto his head.”
But to both their surprise, Edmund remained sitting.
A bit wobbly perhaps. But sitting.
Kate blinked. Anthony slowly removed his supporting hand.
Edmund swayed once, steadied himself with enormous concentration, and then looked up at them both with unmistakable satisfaction.
Kate’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Anthony stared. “Well.”
Edmund slapped both hands excitedly against the blanket as though equally impressed with himself.
Kate laughed softly, almost helplessly, and lowered herself quickly beside him.
“You are sitting,” she whispered, eyes bright with wonder. “Look at you.”
Something in Anthony’s chest tightened painfully at the sight of her face.
The joy there. The relief. The fierce tenderness.
Edmund, pleased by the attention, gave another triumphant shriek and nearly tipped sideways in the process before correcting himself again.
Anthony laughed under his breath. “I believe he intends to conquer the world by summer.”
Kate wiped quickly at beneath one eye and smiled up at him. “He is growing so quickly.”
“Yes,” Anthony said softly.
They arranged several large cushions around the blanket anyway, creating a soft little barrier around Edmund’s new kingdom before settling together upon the nearby daybed.
Edmund seemed perfectly content there between them, babbling endlessly to himself as he reached toward the shifting leaves overhead. Sunlight filtered through the glass ceiling in moving patches across the blanket, and every time the light changed, he gasped softly as though witnessing magic.
Kate leaned comfortably against Anthony’s side.
“I love this room,” she murmured after a while.
Anthony pressed a kiss lightly against her temple. “I know.”
Kate smiled faintly. She watched Edmund reaching determinedly toward a fern frond drooping overhead.
“I love watching him here,” she admitted quietly. “It feels as though part of my home belongs to him too.”
Anthony’s arm tightened slightly around her shoulders.
Then, after a moment, he said softly, “I am sorry for taking you away from it.”
Kate looked up immediately.
“The construction should not take terribly long,” he continued. “And we shall return before summer fully arrives. Just in time for this place to become unbearably warm again.”
Kate smiled lazily against his shoulder.
“Oh,” she sighed contentedly, “that sounds perfect at the moment.”
Anthony laughed.
Then his gaze shifted toward Edmund.
“I wonder,” he mused, “whether he shall inherit his mother’s stubborn insistence upon enjoying unbearable heat.”
Kate gasped softly in mock offense. “It is not stubbornness.”
“No?”
“You are simply weak.”
Anthony looked scandalized. “How dare you.”
Kate was already laughing when he lunged for her, fingers digging lightly at her waist.
She shrieked at once, twisting against him helplessly as he tickled her.
“Anthony!”
“Weak, am I?”
“Yes—” she dissolved into laughter again “—absolutely—”
Edmund startled at the sudden noise.
Then, seeing both his parents laughing helplessly together, he let out a loud delighted cry of his own. The joyful, bubbling little sounds echoed brightly against the glass panes overhead.
Kate and Anthony both stopped laughing just long enough to look at him.
Edmund beamed at them from the blanket, thrilled beyond measure simply to be included in their happiness.
Anthony felt Kate’s hand find his instinctively.
And for one perfect moment, surrounded by warmth and green growing things and the sound of their son’s laughter, the whole world seemed impossibly, overwhelmingly good.
That night, after a quiet dinner together, they retreated upstairs. They settled Edmund in his crib, each pressing a soft kiss to his head before lying him in his crib.
They began undressing each other the moment they passed the threshold into their bedroom.
Kate lay on her side, her back pressed to Anthony’s chest, their legs tangled under the covers. His hand moved slowly over her waist, dipping to her hip, then back again, his breath warm against her neck.
She turned in his arms and kissed him. At first it was soft, hesitant. Then it deepened—hungrier, hotter. His hand slid to her thigh, and she gasped, arching into him.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, startling even herself with the force of it.
Anthony stilled, blinking. “What?” His voice cracked with disbelief, his eyes wide and almost boyish. “Kate… truly?”
“Yes,” she said, then faltered. “No.”
His brows knit. “We will not do anything until you are truly ready.”
“I am ready, Anthony. I want you. More than anything.” Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him close. “I’m just not ready for…the risk.”
Anthony nodded in understanding, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her close.
He pulled back only long enough to murmur, “I am happy with the things we can do, you know. I can still please you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But it isn’t the same. I feel like I won’t feel like myself again until I have you inside me.”
Anthony let out a ragged groan, pressing his face into her neck. “Christ, Kate. You can’t say things like that.”
She laughed, breathless. “I want to try. If you promise to pull away.”
“I will,” he swore.
“No, Anthony, listen to me. If I lose myself—if I hold you tighter, if I beg you not to go—you must do it anyway. Please.”
He searched her face, torn between terror and longing. Then he nodded slowly. “I promise.”
Their first time was slow, reverent. Kate gasped as her body stretched to welcome him, her fingers gripping his shoulders. Anthony held himself back with iron restraint, murmuring her name as though it were a prayer.
When they began to move together, the tension between need and control was exquisite. They climbed higher, Kate trembling, her breath coming in broken moans.
“Anthony—stop—” she gasped suddenly, clutching at him.
He froze instantly. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head violently, tears in her eyes. “No, I’m—I’m so close, but I don’t want to get lost in it. I’m afraid I’ll forget—”
His jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple. “Then let me hold it. Let me wait for you. Please, Kate. Let go for me.”
She nodded. Anthony started moving again, rolling his hips against her the way she liked. Her head fell back against the pillow, an aching moan escaping her.
Her lips parted in a cry as she tipped over the edge, shuddering beneath him. Anthony held her through it, whispering to her sweetly, until she began to soften—and then, with a broken groan, he tore himself away.
He fisted himself desperately, spilling across her stomach as she clung to him, still quaking. Kate startled at the heat of it, at the sight of him undone yet still so careful for her.
And to her surprise—it thrilled her. The way he shielded her even in the throes of pleasure, the way his weight pinned her while his release marked her skin—it made her feel cherished and claimed all at once.
Anthony, gasping, pressed a kiss to her forehead, then hurried to fetch a cloth. He cleaned her gently, reverently, before gathering her back into his arms.
“Thank you,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “For being so good to me. For protecting me.”
His answer came rough, unshakable. “Always, Kate. Always.”