Prologue
Ever since she could fully understand English, Kate has always been told to behave and smile because “this is how you will find a husband” , as her mother would always remind her. Kate never indulged in the idea of having a husband, having a child -possibly a male heir- and alienating herself from all social and political matters that society deemed unsuitable for a lady. She loved reading and always spent most of her time in the family’s library, choosing books that would challenge her mind to think and form opinions. Books that her mother would prefer her not to read. She was lucky enough that her father encouraged her every thought and curiosity. Not every female child of a noble family could say that their fathers encouraged their daughters to be studious. Unless, of course, the fathers in question were viscont Derek Bishop and Viscount Edmund Bridgerton.
Although, Kate soon found out that she could not live forever in the reassuring embrace of curiosity her father provided. She was only ten years old when he suddenly passed away. She knew what “dying” meant, the Bridgerton siblings had explained it to her over the years as they lost their father, too. Grief, however, was the only thing she had not understood until she experienced it personally. And it wasn’t just grief for the loss of her father, who had been accidentally killed by a swordsman. Young Kate had to deal with the loss of her sister as well. It was no secret that Viscountess Eleanor Bishop wanted both her daughters to wed, she only had the misfortune of birthing two daughters who despised the idea of being forever bound to a man until death really did them part.
Susan Bishop was much older than Kate, she was already out in society when their father died. Derek’s death, Susan’s rejection of every suitor their mother presented, and the growing tensions within the household’s walls, were some of the reasons of Susan’s late night departure, announced with a message delivered to the lasting Bishops the morning after. For Kate, that loss was even greater than her father’s death. She lost her sister, her most trusted friend and her confidant in the same night. Now, all her mother’s persistent attention regarding marriage would be focused solely on her. She resented her father for dying too soon, and she resented her sister more for leaving her in her mother’s attentive eye instead of taking her away on her mysterious journey.
The only distraction she indulged in after both her losses was provided by Duke Clint Barton. He had introduced himself at her father’s funeral, claiming they had been acquaintances and even fought together on occasion. He provided a sense of security and fatherly love young Kate desperately sought in the months following the burial of the Viscount. At the time, Clint already had two children whom Kate came to see as siblings, filling the void in her heart left by her sister. Kate began to spend most of her days at the Barton estate, where she would attentively watch her new father figure train with a bow and arrows. Kate was fascinated by archery. She pleaded with Clint to teach her and never ceased asking until he relented. Her training commenced, and her mother never knew what had suddenly made Kate so eager to spend time at the estate. It was likely that Eleanor believed Kate’s delight stemmed from a possible affection her youngest daughter harboured for the eldest Barton, Cooper.
As Kate grew, so did her love for archery. She managed to persuade Clint to teach her some self-defence.However, as she matured, the time for her debut into society drew nearer. Kate dreaded the day. This sentiment was shared with her closest friend, Eloise Bridgerton. They both had an affinity for the emerging feminist movements, and resented the idea of debuting into society only to be judged by men for their interests, essentially being interviewed for the men to decide if they were the convenient match of the season. Eloise had the fortune of having many siblings and a loving mother who supported her decision never to marry. However, her older friend revealed that just because she had never married a man, it did not mean that she had not found her match. It was a delicate conversation, certainly one that could not be held during a ball, where Lady Whistledown might always be waiting for some fresh gossip for her next publication. Eloise explained to Kate that love may come in many forms, and just because society does not recognize or accept a certain type of love, it does not mean it is less real or less deserving of attention and passion.
The day Kate dreaded most finally arrived, and she could not oppose her mother any more than she had over the past years. The only thing that calmed her nerves that day was the presence of all the Bartons -who had recently welcomed a baby boy, Nathaniel, named in honour of Clint’s best friend, he said-, and the Bridgertons, who also regarded her as part of their family. Her presentation to the queen had not been the best, but the queen had smiled nonetheless. Kate braced herself for her mother’s complaints. Eleanor did not favour the royal family, nor the Bartons and Bridgertons for that matter. Very few people could pass Eleanor Bishop’s discerning eye. However, her distaste for most of the Ton’s families did not apply during Kate’s debut season, unfortunately. She may have not liked the Barton family, but she certainly pursued the idea of marrying Kate off to Cooper Barton. Her mother sought attention and respect from the Ton, and she knew she would achieve it by becoming related to Duke Barton. The Bridgertons were not even considered because all of the siblings were already wed and bred. And Eloise, although unwed, was not an option.
Her presentation to the queen was followed by too many tedious balls, where numerous noblemen scrutinised her and followed her every move. She was approached by too many men who took an interest in her, none of whom caught Kate’s attention, even when they were speaking directly to her. She wished to remain by the farthest wall; being a wallflower did not seem so bad, despite Penelope Bridgerton’s encouragement to take to the floor and enjoy herself. She truly did not wish to disappoint Penelope, and if Francesca had been there, she would have said the same thing. But Francesca was in Scotland, happily married after grieving her first husband for too long. No one outside of her family had met her new spouse.
And so Kate endeavoured to enjoy the farce that was set up for every young noblewoman who came of age. Kate viewed it more as every young woman being a piece at an auction. Nevertheless, she played her role to perfection to appease, or escape, her mother. She conversed with every gentleman who approached her; she pretended not to understand things so they could feel superior in intellect while simplifying the explanation to match a woman’s comprehension skills; she smiled politely and danced, eternally grateful that society imposed on women to wear gloves at the balls. Kate’s last wish was to touch a man’s bare skin with her own.
Almost every night, she was expected to attend these over-the- top, luxurious, lavishing, and sometimes tasteless balls. Gold surrounded the guests at every event. Some would use the theme of flowers, while others would try to please Her Majesty -in hopes of her attendance- by basing their ball on diamonds. But none of them mattered, not even the ones where Her Majesty did attend. They never mattered to Kate, at least. Some of the other debutants were overly excited about the season, sharing stories of how they had prepared for this moment all their life, hoping to find a match in their first season and start a family by the end of it. Kate never engaged much with them, finding them all too shallow and lacking real interest in their own futures and independence. Or perhaps, she cared too much about the wrong things. Perhaps she should have cared more about the dresses the modiste made for her, or all the stitching techniques. Perhaps her father was wrong in encouraging her love for books, literature, and poetry, as well as mathematics. But deep down in her heart, she could not find an ounce of guilt for not caring about the common topics a lady was expected to care about.
She was fortunate enough to meet again, after many years, a gentleman nearly her age who had recently inherited land and title from his late father, now becoming a Duke. Elijah Bradley. Eli, as Kate used to call him. They reconnected at the Finch ball, discussing his travels and her recent studies. Eli was pleasant company and certainly an enjoyable conversationalist, Kate found it rather easy to speak of her real interests with him. For a moment, she forgot the role the dear Mamas of the Ton played in this farce. She let him guide her to the dance floor more times than she could count in the following balls, and she was rather surprised to learn that she quite enjoyed dancing with the young man. Kate knew what their friendship looked like seen from the eyes of the Ton: a courtship. Even her mother ceased bothering her about marrying Cooper Barton. And perhaps it was a risky idea, but it was the easiest way to finally get away from her mother and ultimately escape society’s judging gaze.
It was not conventional; most things Kate did were not conventional. Her hope was for it to work out and finally find her elusive peace. She valued her privacy, so if she were to truly find a husband, she intended to find someone who would make her wishes come true. Kate could only find her saviour in the form of Elijah.
“We should get married.” Kate whispered to the gentleman. They were dancing their second waltz of the evening; a third would have been scandalous for a lady and her apparent suitor. The queen was in attendance, with all the young ladies trying to catch Her Majesty’s eyes.
She felt her dancing partner tense, causing him to miss a few steps. Kate could not deny that her request was sudden and irrevocably scandalous. “Pardon?”
Her gaze quickly shifted to his eyes, wishing nothing more than for this evening to be over at once. His expression was one of confusion, a slight blush slowly rising from his neck. She lowered her eyes, trying to hide a small smile, before explaining her reasons. “You are in need of a wife, as the newly titled Duke of your late father’s lands. Although, as a man, you have the choice to never marry and still be part of our society, it would be beneficial for you to marry and find your Duchess.” Kate could see Eli’s interest pique, so she continued. “It would also be advantageous for me, as my only way out of all these prying eyes is through marriage. I could be your Duchess.” A glint of deviousness flashed in her eyes. “All I ask is some privacy from my husband, should I require it.”
It was surprising how all those twirls and the rustle of the other young ladies’ dresses did not make her feel ill, yet. She could have sworn that dancing did not feel as suffocating and exhausting when her father asked her to try in their family’s library.
Through all those unnecessary twirls, she kept her eyes steady on her companion to assess his reaction and try to predict his answer to her audacious request. But he kept looking at her, eyes fixed on hers without giving anything away. Kate went home that night with a secured proposal from one of the most eligible gentlemen of the Ton, one that appeased her mother and would surely be on the front of the next Lady Whistledown’s publication.
The morning after, her mother took her to the modiste to plan her trousseau and take the measures for her wedding gown. Her only comfort was that three weeks later, she would be married and away. She would be free. Eli had informed her that he would require an heir for his duchy, to which she rapidly and absentmindedly consented.
The first week of her engagement passed rather slowly. Her mother hosted an engagement ball after Lady Whistledown made it known that “Lady Katherine Bishop found her match during her first season” . This ball was more tedious than all the others she had attended that season. At least she was off the marriage mart and did not have to endure more suitors or her mother’s insufferable schemings. Kate left the preparations to her mother, wanting nothing to do with flowers’ combinations and fabrics. She insisted on managing her own dowry, and her mother let her. However, she decides to take care of the choice of the flowers for her bouquet: yellow daffodils and purple geraniums. Her hope was that her soon-to-be husband understood the meaning she wished to convey with that particular flower arrangement.
The last two weeks before her wedding blurred together and rushed by. Although she saw less of her mother, who was too absorbed by wedding preparations, she was visited by numerous socialites who wanted to congratulate her on her upcoming nuptials. Kate could not even enjoy her usually soothing promenades without being stopped every few steps by someone eager to express their excitement -implicitly asking for an invitation-, and inquiring about the whereabouts of her betrothed. She had not seen Eli since the engagement ball, as she was too busy avoiding anything that would immediately remind her of the wedding. She had mostly succeeded to avoid anything, but nothing could have stopped time from bringing the event ever closer.
The night before the wedding, Kate decided to go to bed earlier than usual, only to spend the entire night lying awake. She wanted more than anything for the morning to come and end just as quickly, her mind already wandering to the place where she would live far away from her dowager mother. Restless in her bed, she got up and decided to write a letter that would never be sent. She had started this tradition the moment it was revealed that her sister had escaped the house. Susan Bishop was the addressee of all her letters that remained unsent in a drawer in her bedroom. Kate did not know where to send them. But writing about her everyday life was cathartic; it felt as if she was still talking to her sister. She wrote of the wedding and how it came to be, still perplexed that she had agreed to this fate. Proposed it in the first place, in fact. The fate she had condemned for so long, was to become her new reality in just a few hours.
The next morning arrived, and Kate had slept but a few hours. All her mother’s maids rushed in her bedroom to wake her and begin preparing her, dressing her in the wedding gown the modiste finished for this occasion, and adorning her with all the jewels her mother insisted she wear. She hated being surrounded by all those maids, and even more so, she hated how many hands were touching her entire body just to help her into the gown. Everything about that day was already dreadful.
Everything was to her mother’s taste: the gown she wore, her hairdo, the wedding breakfast at her house, even the way the chapel was decorated. She could not complain, as she had given her mother full liberties. She was glad that at least her bouquet was to her taste and choice.
Waiting behind the doors of the not-so-discreet chapel, she was panicking.This was her only way to forever leave her mother’s grasp, but she was also walking into something akin to a trap that would grip her tightly and never let her go until she or her husband passed away. Kate did not like either of the options she had. She would have preferred to live in a world where women could decide willingly and unashamedly never to marry, a world where society did not dictate women’s futures. Unfortunately, Kate had to live the life she was given, in the period she was born.
Her panicked haze was interrupted by Clint, who stood right in front of her, his comforting hands caressing her arms, and a smile full of love to calm her nerves.
She had told her mother she did not want her to walk her down the aisle; she said she wished to do it alone. Her mother was furious; that was Eleanor’s only chance to see one of her children marry, and that child refused to let her do what Derek should have done. Kate had hastily retreated to her room, waiting for the right moment to sneak past her mother and to the Barton estate. It was in no way conventional, but it was just another unconventional thing that Kate could add to her never-ending list. Clint was asked to walk the younger Bishop down the aisle, and he happily -and tearfully- agreed.
“Should you decide to run away right now, I will help carry your veil. I have a carriage set to not leave until I give a signal. Whatever you decide, should your mother force you to leave your own home, you are always welcome to stay with us for as long as you please. For all Laura and I care, you are a Barton." The words proclaimed by Clint left Kate teary-eyed. The Bartons showed her what a real family, and real love, was like.
Composing herself, she gave the older man a half-reassuring smile and presented her right arm, signalling him to lead her to her inescapable fate. As soon as Clint gently knocked on the chapel doors, they opened, revealing a plethora of people standing and directing their gazes at the bride. She looked at Clint, tightening her grip on his arm, and looked back at Eli, who had his back to her. She was secretly grateful she could avoid looking at his face; it would only make it feel like a real marriage in Kate’s heart.
Walking down the aisle, slowing her pace with each step, she took notice of the faces analysing her. She had never met nor seen most of them; surely it was her mother’s intent to show off that she finally succeeded in marrying her daughter to a Duke. In the nearest benches to the altar sat her mother and almost every Bridgerton, as well as the rest of the Bartons. Seeing them brought some comfort to her heart. Eloise and Kate Bridgerton smiling brightly and reassuringly. Her mother must have been livid when she found out about the seating’s arrangements.
Suddenly, Kate felt her arm being tugged back and her feet halting in place. She glanced back at Clint, and from his strained smile, she realised. She had not even looked back at the altar yet, but she knew she had come at the end of her slow and deathly-like march. Clint’s left arm disentangled from hers, and she felt as though salty water had filled her lungs, preventing her from drawing a fresh breath, the moment he lifted her veil. As she slowly turned her head towards her soon-to-be-husband, she noticed how he remained facing forward, never turning in her direction, even as she took the final steps to meet him before the eyes of God, who would finally unite them in Holy Matrimony.
“You look rather winsome,” were the words Kate heard from him after weeks of avoidance. Although his words might have made any young lady swoon upon hearing them, they made Kate squint her eyes in silent fury. She hoped he had only meant it as a compliment, without any double meanings. If he had uttered such words with the intent of making her understand his true thoughts, she wished it was merely a reaction to the flower arrangement chosen for her bouquet. That was the only reason she could think of to provoke such a comment.
She did not have enough time to question his words, as the Bishop and other clergy members who were to assist in their union neared the pair. She quickly stole a glance back, catching the eye of Violet Bridgerton this time. The dowager Viscountess Bridgerton held her gaze and nodded, silently offering her support to the young bride. Shutting her eyes to keep silent tears from falling, she ultimately glanced forward as the Duke had done since the doors opened. And soon the ceremony commenced. The Bishop’s words of love and union felt hollow, as did her meaningless vows, which she spoke vacantly. She did not believe a single word uttered since her engagement, much less the words that should have been promises to her husband about submission and unconditional loyalty. For a moment, she believed the grandest moment had passed. That was until a ring was placed before her eyes.
As a child, Kate would often admire her mother’s jewels, paying particular attention to her rings. They were fascinating in the child’s eyes. Derek Bishop even allowed his two daughters to try them on whenever their mother was out of sight. Kate loved her mother’s amethyst ring the most. The stone always looked regal, and the gold band on which it was set complemented the jewel effortlessly. She had hoped that, one day, her father might gift her a ring as well, perhaps with an amethyst stone like her mother’s.
The ring she was presented with in that church was far from the amethyst ring she had dreamed of her entire life. While the band was gold, the gemstone was a sapphire. It must have been a Bradley family heirloom, the colour and shape perfectly resembling the Eli she had once known. The ring reminded her of a flower of some sort, though she could not quite determine which one. Kate looked vacuously at Eli, who had taken her left hand in his and was attempting to remove her glove. The movement brought her out of her reverie. This was her wedding ring, the object that would bind her to a man until death did them part. And the man to whom she would be forever bound was trying to remove her glove and touch her bare skin to put that inescapable chain upon her. Kate shot a panicked look at Eli and slightly retracted her hand from his grasp. The church stilled, as if none of the present dared to breathe. She knew her action could have been seen by her mother and the other two families. She did not believe it could have been noticed by those seated in the far benches.
With a pleading look, she stared at Eli, wishing for him to understand her silent words. She had requested the modiste to fashion a pair of semi-transparent gloves for her wedding ceremony, so she would not be compelled to remove them when the moment came. Kate thought of the words Clint had spoken before guiding her to the altar. Not for the first time, she wished she had run away, freeing herself of her mother and society’s impossible expectations. Her pleading look never wavered, and soon the ring slipped on her gloved hand. She let out what little air she still had in her lungs, the only portion of air she had left before starting to feel as though she was drowning. She would place the ring on her finger when she was home and alone, never to be touched before the eyes of those witnessing the farce that was her marriage.
The wedding breakfast coordinated by her mother pleased many of the guests; Kate assumed the food tasted better than it looked. She did not dare take a bite. Her husband had been swept away from her as soon as their carriage arrived at Eleanor’s house for the celebration. The feeling growing in her heart was, once again, gratitude. Kate yearned for her time away from Eli; she desired to avoid him for the entirety of the celebration, until she could not anymore.
She searched for familiar and beloved faces, noticing the young Lila Barton playing with some of the Bridgerton cousins. She could recognize Amelia and Edmund among them. She smiled at them, knowing they would never have to experience the same as her, because they had their families’ love and support. Tearing her gaze away from the scene, she finally met the eyes of Duchess Laura Barton. The woman rushed to her side, and shortly she was enveloped in the protective arms of the mother. She closed her eyes in the embrace, feeling the woman’s reassurance invading her veins. That was not a congratulatory embrace, but rather a pitying one. Kate would not accept anyone pitying her, unless it was Laura.
“You are beautiful, my darling. You did the right thing, as much as it may not seem so. Had you chosen never to enter that chapel, we had already asked one of our maids to prepare a room for you.” Laura never let go of the embrace. “I know it must be difficult, but we will always be here for you. As will the Bridgertons.”
“Thank you, Laura, for being here with me. Had it not been for your family, I would have followed in my sister’s footsteps without a chance of survival.” Tears had started brimming in her eyes, but this time she allowed herself to shed a few. Laura gently backed away from the loving embrace, her hands gripping Kate's arms tightly.
“I just wish you could escape your wedding night…” The Duchess’ expression was grim, which deeply confused Kate.
“I noticed you retracting your hand before he could remove your glove to put the ring on your finger. I know you do not like to be touched before you have time to consent to it. And I know that you will hardly consent to it.” Laura’s fixating gaze unsettled Kate, who had kept her calm until now. “Your mother surely has spoken to you about what happens on one’s wedding night, has she not?”
Kate shook her head slowly, fearful that her action might bring some unfortunate fate upon her. She had read many books and knew that man and wife were to be intimate with each other on the night of their wedding. She never questioned what that word, intimate , meant. Her mother had yet to tell her what she and her husband were to accomplish that night. Apparently, the ever-perfect dowager Viscountess Eleanor Bishop had not thought of everything, after all.
“Come, dear. We shall retreat to a more private area for this conversation. Society does not deem it appropriate for young ladies who are yet to marry to hear such words.” And while the thought of escaping the crowded room made Kate feel as though she could breathe again, the words spoken by her dear friend halted the growing beat of her heart, if only for a moment.
Attentive to what was being explained, Kate had yet to understand why such matters had to be withheld for so long from young ladies, when it was clear it never mattered when it came to men. Laura had not explained things in great detail; perhaps it was for the best. She was not particularly excited to perform whatever acts had been described and what had been kept from her for lack of properness. She kept staring at Laura, hoping to keep her truthful thoughts only in her mind without showing them through any improper expressions. Her mother had decided to remove herself from this task, perhaps to avoid embarrassment with her daughter. Kate felt more embarrassed that it had to be Laura to explain it to her, taking on the role of a maternal figure.
“Is it something that marriage requires constantly? Is there some way I could, perhaps, avoid engaging in what everyone knows must happen on my wedding night?” Kate’s voice betrayed her intent to appear nonchalant. Laura gave her another pitying look, and the new bride felt her heart sink in her stomach faster than a ship sinking in the ocean.
“I have no doubt that should you request to wait, your husband would not deny you. However, it is something that eventually needs to happen. It is the only way for you to provide an heir to your new duchy.” Laura’s sullen eyes never left Kate’s panicked stare. The young Duchess' eyes widened at the new information.
“After my wedding night, will I be with child already?” It dawned on Kate in that moment just what she had chosen her fate to be. “I cannot be with child already; I still have my wedding gown on. I do not want to hold a child in my arms just a few months past my marriage. Whatever happens to my alone time?”
“Darling, it requires more than just your wedding night to be with child. You will not become a mother in just a few months from now. ” The older Duchess’ eyes were kind and understanding. “Has your mother truly not told you anything about this matter? Has she not prepared you for your wedding night? I thought you had a trousseau.” The young Duchess’ panicked eyes now held some confusion in the clear sky that painted her irises. “The trousseau is not for you, my sweet child. It is for your husband to see… on you.”
Kate wondered if there had been other ways to escape her mother other than marrying or fleeing as her sister had done. Perhaps, had she spoken to Clint before suggesting marriage to her old friend, she could be safe, unmarried, away from her mother and loved by her chosen family.
Instead, she found herself outside her childhood home, just a few steps away from a carriage that awaited the Duke and his new wife to convey them to their new shared house. She faced the building, reminiscing about the best memories it held -each one filled with her father and sister, her mother barely there-. It had been her choice to get away, but that did not mean Kate found it easy to let go. She smiled at the two families who had loved her like their own, hugging and thanking each one of them separately. Eloise assured her that she would not be too far away, should Kate need help with anything. The little Bridgertons all tried to hug her at the same time, a scene that made her genuinely laugh for the first time that day. The two Barton children followed the actions of the multitude of cousins, with the difference that Kate was able to hug them both. She was handed baby Nate, to hold perhaps for the last time before he would become a walking child. Leaving the two families was the hardest thing for her, right after letting Eli put the ring on her finger. She still had to move it under her glove.
She approached her awaiting husband by the carriage, until a presence right behind her made her halt in her steps.
“You have done well, Katherine. You fulfilled one of your many duties as a woman. Now, begin fulfilling those of a wife.” Her mother’s chilling voice came from behind her, making her skin feel as though ice had been left there to melt. “Do not disappoint me.”
She had barely turned her head in Eleanor’s direction when she saw her mother walk hastily back into the house without sparing a glance at anyone she passed. Kate sighed; she could not even hug her own daughter goodbye. Lord knows when she would see her next. All of them.
The newlyweds’ journey was quiet; neither dared to speak or look at one another. Kate preferred to watch the scenery outside the window. She had instructed her mother’s maids to collect all her letters to her sister and place them in a trunk that would travel with her. She had decided to not take a personal maid from her mother’s household, as they would loyally report everything back to their mistress. Kate would choose one once she became accustomed to her new home.
“Does it have to be tonight?” Kate was the one to break the silence, Laura’s words tormenting her mind. She had yet to meet his eyes, which she could feel had shifted to look at her as soon as she posed the question.
“I assume you are referring to our wedding night?” Her nod was short and quick, and she already cursed herself for bringing it up.
“Well, it is custom for married couples to have their wedding night on the same night as their nuptials are celebrated, as the name suggests. However, we could discuss it and decide what is best for us.” Those words pleased Kate; Laura had been right about him. “It is best if we look at each other while discussing such matters.”
Kate slowly shifted her position to look at him. He had given her a choice about her wedding night, and it was deeply appreciated. She had time to think about it until they arrived at their final destination. Kate’s impulsiveness overcame her senses, prompting her to make a decision faster than necessary. “No. We shall follow the tradition. The sooner we comply with it, the sooner it is over.” Perhaps her last sentence had hurt Eli, but she could not find it in her heart to feel sorry about it. She had been earnest.
The rural paysage had left Kate enchanted. It reminded her of the times they returned to the country after spending too much time in the city. Her father always pointed out the animals they encountered on their way, always putting a smile on both girls’ mouths. Kate could not even remember what her mother did during those prolonged hours, her focus completely on her father. The same paysage now held a bitter taste in her mouth, no matter how enchanting it was.
It was nearing sunset when they finally arrived at Eli’s -and now Kate’s, too- country manor. Ivy covered the building elegantly, giving it a magical aspect that lured Kate. The garden presented many beautiful flowers that she could not wait to tend to. The manor’s staff awaited their arrival on the front steps. Kate’s cheeks tinted a light pink at the sight of the overwhelming number of people needed to keep the manor in that beautiful state. Eli got out of the carriage first, offering his hand to help Kate out. She accepted, as she still had her gloves on. She understood that by agreeing to consummate her marriage, she would have to consent to being touched without any fabric between her husband and herself.
As they passed the staff, they were bowed and curtsied. She was not used to such formalities being directed at her. The usual bows and curtsies she received were those she shared with her friends and some suitors, never as elegant and formal as the ones she had been receiving since the carriage halted at the front of the manor. Eli led her to the top of the stairs where an austere woman awaited them and curtsied when they stopped in front of her. A gentle and shy smile made its way onto Eli’s ever-expressionless face.
“Your Grace. It is a pleasure to have you back.” The woman then directed her gaze at Kate, offering another perfect curtsy. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you as well, Your Grace.”
Your Grace . This title now belonged to Kate just as much as it belonged to Eli. She knew it would require time to get accustomed to responding to that title.
“Mrs. Darrell, it is a pleasure to be back and see you again. Let me introduce you to my wife, Duchess Katherine Bradley.” The man’s voice was loving when addressing the older lady. Kate’s body reacted at hearing her name being followed by his surname. She did not like how she felt her identity being stolen and completely changed to fit into the role of the perfect wife and Duchess, roles imposed on women by society just to please a man. “Kate, this is Mrs Darrell. Without her, this place would have gone extinct years ago.” The compliment brought a small smile to Kate’s face and a slight blush on the woman’s.
Kate had yet to believe the tone Eli demonstrated when talking to and about Mrs. Darrell. It was quite obvious that the Duke was fond of her, and the woman likewise. It was also clear that the lady took her job seriously, directing every movement in the manor with an ease that Kate could only admire and aspire to acquire one day.
The Duchess was given a tour of the manor along with an interesting history lesson. The rooms were sophisticated, but barely to Kate’s taste. She dared not speak her thoughts in front of the woman enthusiastically leading her through the maze that was her new home. Mrs. Darrell excitedly showed her the nursery, Kate smiling at the woman’s excitement without paying attention to the room. A baby was the last thing she could think about for now.
Supper was spent mostly in silence, Eli only asking Kate what she thought of their shared accommodation. Kate had not expressed her true thoughts to him either, too apprehensive of what was to come.
“The gardens were beautiful. I could recognize many of the plants and flowers already set to bloom this summer. I can hardly wait to see them in all their glorious beauty.” She was truthful in her words; the matter had always intrigued her curious mind. She had read many books on it as well, learning of the secret messages that different flowers, and different combinations of them, could signify.
“You may speak to the gardener about whatever plant or flower you wish to see bloom from now on, should you wish to.” That had been the gentlest tone Eli had used when speaking to Kate thus far. On the other side of the formal setting that was the table they were having supper, Kate could barely believe her ears. Unknown joy began to flow in her veins. She would make sure to ask the gardener to plant the most beautiful flowers every noble had ever had the grace to lay eyes upon.
While lost in her colourful thoughts, Kate barely acknowledged Eli signalling to his footsmen to leave them alone. Their rhythmic steps reminded Kate that she had to choose a personal maid -or, better yet, a lady-in-waiting-, before her mother would send one of her spies .
Left alone with her husband, Kate consciously avoided his gaze by keeping her eyes fixed on the plate full of refreshing fruit, pineapple included. The ensemble of fruits on her plate vaguely resembled the colourful gardens she had previously envisioned.
“Kate…” he softly spoke. She did not lift her gaze towards him, not even when she heard him sigh. “We are now alone, if you wish to speak your mind without being overheard by anyone but me.”
Kate tightened the grip on the little fork used to eat the fruits. She had always hated how many different forks they were given for different courses of one meal; one fork could have been enough. She eyed the still untouched grapes on her plate. If she were to look her husband in the eyes, she would display all her emotions at once. Eli kept quiet, waiting for the Duchess to answer him in some way. He was patient.
“When giving me a tour, Mrs. Darrell asked if I wished for the Duchess’ chambers to be prepared, and I consented to them being ready for me.” Kate had not lifted her now hardened gaze yet. “I shall retreat to my chambers and prepare for…” She got up from her chair, prompting an awful, scratching sound against the wooden floors. “Yes, well… I will now leave.”
Kate hastily left the candle-lit room, her quickened steps echoing through the hallways. Before commencing the tour, she had changed out of her wedding gown, deciding to keep the gloves. If she were to prepare for her wedding night, she had to put the ring directly on her finger. She was comforted by the idea of doing it herself. No one would take off her glove to put a ring on her finger, except for her.
The hallways were adorned with portraits of all the late relatives of her husband who had lived there as well. Soon, she would be on those walls, claiming ownership of the grounds just with a portrait. She hurried her steps, slightly lifting her gown to run up the grand staircase that led her to the top floor where her new chambers were located. The rising moon shining through the majestic windows and the candles scattered along the walls provided the only light for her path.
At the entrance of her chambers, many of her husband’s maids awaited her arrival, patiently waiting to help their new Duchess prepare for her wedding night. Kate froze in place and visibly shivered. The thought that occupied her mind was of the many hands that had touched her that same morning to put her in the white gown, the many hands that would touch her now to undress her of her current gown, and his hands that were to be the last ones to touch her that day. She had already started hating her new status. She had to find a lady-in-waiting soon.
She had just stepped foot in her quarters when she found herself undressed and placed in a bath scented with lilies and vanilla. The smell made her feel nauseous, too sweet for her taste. She preferred a stronger scent, mixed with a delicate one to create the perfect combination. She was being bathed by five of the maids she had seen waiting at her door. Not an unclean spot was left on her body. The moment one of the maids started cleaning her upper legs, she flushed and felt her limbs become more sensitive than they had ever been. She stole many glances at the maid from that moment forward. Rather young, blonde hair kept in an intricate updo, and objectively beautiful. Her touch was delicate and attentive, her eyes kind and gentle. Kate decided she would become one of her personal maids. Forcefully brought out of the bath, and away from the blonde’s addicting touch, she was quickly dried and placed at the centre of the room, where many nightgowns awaited on her bed. She eyed a lilac one, wishing to wear her father’s -and her- favourite colour. Instead, she was dressed in a plain white one with blue trims that ran tightly under her cleavage to push it up more. She sighed at the thought of being this exposed. It was then that she noticed that her ring was missing. She rejoiced for a moment before sensing someone presenting her with the object. The blonde maid, whom she had kept an eye on the entire time, was the one to give it back. This time, Kate viewed it as a simple ring rather than a chain. This time, she put it on her finger herself.
The Duke’s chambers were just on the other side of hers, yet the walk seemed everlasting. The countless maids that had crowded her room, were now blocking its entrance in favour of smiling at their Duchess encouraging her to keep walking towards her fate. She searched for the eyes she had looked for the entire time since the bath, a gracious smile illuminating the girl’s features. If she had a choice, she would retreat back in her room, pulling the blonde girl with her. The feeling was foreign; she felt as though it should not exist directed at the woman, but it was there, and Kate felt alive again. Pulling herself away from the mesmerising gaze, she faced front and started her walk, eyes shut. If she could not see it, her mind would never perceive it as something that truly happened.
She took a trembling step. Then another. Then another. Then…
Air suddenly blew in her face, her shut eyelids feeling light shine on them, and a scent so sweet and strong she had to take a few steps back, nausea invading her being.
“Come in.” She grimaced at the sudden voice. She did not wish to, preferring to turn around and run away. But she had already agreed multiple times that she would be fine with her wedding night. She could not back down now.
Swallowing her pride and her fear, she opened her eyes and entered the chilling room. Her husband closed the doors she had left behind, while she took in the chambers. A canopy bed was placed against the wall on her right, deep blue blankets laid on top of it. Directly in front of the bed, on the other side of the immense room, was a fireplace with comfortable seating and ottomans. The candlelight, as well as the delicate glow of the moon, made the room feel warm and cared for. Kate’s body contrasted with it all: she felt cold and wished to be left by herself, instead of being taken care of by Eli.
His steps reached Kate, who walked to the bed to put some distance between their bodies. Kate had yet to utter a word since supper. Her throat felt sore from prolonged silence. Her cold skin displaying gooseflesh, her fingers itching to grasp the doorknob. She took a deep breath and suppressed her emotions, while sitting on the regal bed and to face the Duke. Her grim expression was fixed on him, never faltering and following his every move. He did not speak; he merely approached the bed, his gaze steady on his new wife. Kate let out a deep, audible exhale and repositioned herself on the bed to lie down more comfortably. She wondered if she could keep her eyes closed throughout the ordeal. The bed dipped near her feet as Eli began to reach up. His hands were tentative, gently caressing from her calf up her legs. When he neared the knee, she momentarily recalled the maid who had done the same while bathing her, and she temporarily relaxed at his touch. Until the memory slipped away from her mind, and his face appeared before her eyes. She tensed as his hands now caressed her own, slowly rising up her arms. Her nightgown had been raised to her hips, his hands the culprits. She laid motionless, fearful even, as Eli led the proceedings at his own pace.
She had read many novels centred on love stories, some even describing the wedding nights of the main couples. She had read how the wives were always happy and eager, even partaking in the act themselves at some point. Kate, however, did not feel any of those emotions she was supposed to feel according to her beloved books. She avoided moving even the slightest, lest he believe she wished to be more involved in the act itself. A tear fell down her left eye, tickling her cheek and reaching her jaw before falling, while the Duke dug himself deeper and finally ceased his movements to catch his breath. Kate shut her eyes again, the sensation of him burning her insides as she knew the moment had passed -at least she hoped so-, and she wished Laura had been right in telling her that she would not conceive a child from her wedding night. She laid motionless and unresponsive when Eli finally moved off her, laying at her side. She waited, quietly sobbing, until he fell asleep, then bolted out of the sheets and ran to her room.
Fortunately, it did not take long before she could consider herself safe back in her chambers. She hastily shut the doors, this time not being guarded by nosy maids, and fell to her knees the instant she heard them close. Her sobs were now audible, desperate. A scream tore from her throat, scratching and burning as it emerged. In that moment, she did not care if she had woken the entire estate with her scream. Everything was wrong. Nothing like this was supposed to happen; she wished she had found a different escape rather than her instincts taking over her rational mind. She was hurting, her skin felt sullied, and she longed to bathe again, wishing for gentler hands to tend to her bruises. But she could not bathe now; she had to make the night pass rapidly, and the only way was to fall in the deepest slumber ever known to mankind. She crawled towards her bed, too pained to stand upright. She needed to support herself to get into bed. When she finally laid on a cleaner, untouched bed, she could only lie on her back as her lower body ached unpleasantly.
That night, Kate cried herself to sleep.
If Kate were to ever recount what happened on her wedding night, she would only be able to say that it was consummated. She would not be able to describe how Eli’s hands had burned her skin so deeply that she wished to shed it like a snake. She would not be able to convey how his mouth was so close to her ear that she felt his rapid breaths vibrating through her body. She would not even be able to recall how he had left her bruised, hurt to the point where the aching could not be soothed by a warm bath.
She could recount how she left his room once it was over, how she had sobbed throughout the night and even in her sleep. She could tell how she laid in the bed the morning after, not out of choice. She had wanted to take a stroll in the gardens, but her legs felt too weak. And so, she laid in bed. Awake since the sun began to rise, she waited for someone to knock on her door so she could feign illness.
The knocks came sometime after the sun had climbed high in the sky. Kate’s expressionless face was turned forward, her throat feeling as raw as the night before when she spoke, almost inaudibly, to allow entrance to the nosy maid she was certain was on the other side of the door.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” a sweet voice rang in the Duchess’ ears, catching her attention and drawing her towards the gentle sounds directed at her. “Did you sleep well?”. It was her -the maid that had nestled in her mind-. She would not put the poor girl through her hurt.
“I need to get accustomed to this new bed.” Kate could lie easily, as she had to do so quite often with her mother and all the past suitors. She felt it was wrong to do so now, especially when the girl gave her a sweet smile and the most adorable curtsy. The same thought from the night before invaded her mind. “What is your name?”
The maid looked genuinely surprised at the question, innocent in all her movements. “Alice, Your Grace.”
Kate smiled. A name so beautiful, given to a beautiful girl. “I wish you to be my personal maid, Alice.”
The surprise on the girl’s face deepened, before she smiled again and agreed to the request. She did not have a choice, sadly. When a noblewoman askes one to be a personal maid or a lady-in-waiting, there is just so much one can do.
After agreeing to her request, she opened the blinds that covered the tall windows, and started preparing the Duchess’ day outfit.
“Alice, please. Do not trouble yourself. I do not feel well; I shall like to stay in my room today.” Again, the lie slipped from her mouth as if it were the simple truth. “Please, let the Duke know that I will not be joining him until I feel better.”
The maid agreed to that request as well and soon left her alone, wishing for a swift recovery.
She remained alone in her room for a few days, Alice being the only one to come in and out to ensure she ate and to help her bathe. The ache in her lower body had almost completely vanished, although she wished to stay in her room for a few more days.
The peacefulness of her room was interrupted by a knock; surely it was Alice coming to check her well-being as she has done since that morning.
“Your Grace, I am sorry to interrupt your rest.” The woman looked truly apologetic. “You have a guest.”
That last sentence made Kate sit suddenly in bed, a slight ache reminding her why she had yet to rise. “Who is it?”
Alice gently shook her head. “It was Mrs. Darrell who welcomed our guest. She instructed me to inform you and get you ready to meet them.” The woman, sensing Kate’s intentions, admonished her before she could speak. “It would be most improper to refuse a visit a few days after the wedding. Society will talk about it in a day’s time.”
Convinced by her personal maid’s words, she reluctantly rose from bed and allowed Alice to perform the usual routine, including selecting a gown for the meeting.
The scents used for the baths were gradually becoming stronger each day. The warm water almost lulled her to sleep. She did not mind being fully exposed in the presence of her personal maid. Kate liked the feeling of the woman’s wandering gaze. She felt content for the first time in weeks. Her relaxed state was interrupted by the maid’s voice, inviting her to exit the tub and be dried, with the intent of finally dressing.
The gown Alice had chosen was a light blue, but in the light it could be mistaken for lilac. She sighed happily while walking through the seemingly endless hallways she had only raced through the last time. A small smile crept onto her face.
The joy was pulled from her face the moment she entered the tea room, where she had been informed her guest was awaiting her.
“Mother.” At Kate’s voice, the woman turned around to face her daughter. Her tight smile made Kate feel tense. She had hoped to avoid her mother’s presence for as long as possible, after having complied with her lifelong dream of having her daughter be married and ensnared in the intricate web of lies that was their society.
“Katherine, dear. You certainly know how to keep your guests waiting; that is no proper way to behave.” Her smile turned sardonic, enraging Kate and prompting her mind to think of all the ways she could have her mother escorted out of the estate.
“Why have you truly bothered to come all this way, mother? Surely you did not just wish to share a cup of tea with your daughter.” Kate smiled sarcastically in response to the dowager Viscountess’ look.
Kate felt a turmoil of emotions whenever she was in the presence of her mother. She wished she could have a loving and supportive relationship with the Viscountess, one like Lady Bridgerton with all her children and their spouses. To her dismay, their relationship had been doomed to strictness from the moment Eleanor became a widow.
“I have come to ensure that you have been fulfilling your duties as a wife, of course.” Her mother maintained the same scornful tone she had been using since her arrival. Kate hated when her mother spoke like that; she felt tension and hatred heaving in the room, mocking her.
“I am grateful for your concern, mother, but I am not in need of your assistance anymore.” She decided that mirroring her mother’s tone would ease her growing anger. “An artist from town is coming next week. My husband has hired him to create the official portraits that will be revealed at the ball that I will be organising for the end of the season.”
Eleanor may have been a stoic woman, but the shock on her face at her daughter’s words was one Kate would remember for the rest of her life.
“And what about your personal maid? You left without one, I can come back in a few days with one of our best-” The Viscountess started ranting.
“I have a personal maid, mother.” This time, it was Kate who smiled mockingly. “In fact, I have found one who was already working here, so she will not need to be trained.”
“Very well, then.” Her mother was obviously displeased at her daughter’s response, knowing she would have no other means to control her from afar. “I shall be on my way back. Make haste with the preparations for the ball; society has a knack for ostracising the newlywed brides.”
As her mother was led away from the tea room, where neither woman had dared to touch the tea, Kate sat on one of the couches, sighing. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind. She realised she would need to start pretending to be like the other wives soon enough, making a fool of all the noble families that would undoubtedly await an invitation to the newlyweds' ball.
“Alice…” she distractedly called the girl. “Prepare a carriage for me. If I have to host a ball, I will need the help of the Viscountess Bridgerton.” Kate turned her head to the door that was left ajar throughout her conversation with her mother. “Inform my husband that I will be away for a few hours.”
Anthony and Kate Bridgerton had returned to the country soon after her marriage, like many other families whose sole reason to be in Mayfair was the debut or marriage of a relative. The carriage ride to Aubrey Hall had been quiet, Alice being her only companion, who preferred to follow etiquette rather than engage in meaningless chatter with the new Duchess. Kate had tried to converse with the maid but soon decided that watching the scenery was a better choice.
At Aubrey Hall, Kate was welcomed by warm hugs from the Viscount and Viscountess’ three children. She could never hide her joy when around the Bridgerton children. She spent most of her time discussing balls and how to host one with the Viscountess, who kindly offered her help with the organisation. Kate then decided to end her visit by playing with the children. Charlotte Bridgerton, being the youngest and only daughter, would command her brothers to play whatever she fancied. Kate could not help but laugh at the girl’s competitive nature, unmistakably inherited from both parents.
As soon as she stepped back into the carriage, Kate realised that she could stay away from her husband’s estate for a few more hours. Therefore, she decided to visit the Bartons as well. The Bartons were back in the country too, Kate being their only reason to travel all the way to Mayfair for the season.
Huntingmour Manor was the house little Kate always dreamed of having. Despite its large grounds, it felt welcoming and full of love. Every corner held memories of the family and of the shared joy. Yet, Kate’s favourite spaces were the gardens where she used to train in archery with Clint. The same gardens where Clint taught her how to ride a horse -her first horse being Clint’s pureblood Clydesdale horse, Hawk- and where she learned by herself how to shoot arrows while riding. She had made as many memories as the Barton children at Huntingmour Manor. Stepping into the Manor felt like finally being home, a feeling fueled by the warm embrace of all the present Bartons. She was led to sit in the elegant tea room, its colours bringing calmness and comfort to every guest who entered. Overlapping conversations were all Kate’s ears could discern, but her fond gaze was directed at all of them. Eventually, Laura was the only one who could be heard over Lila and Cooper’s bickering. Before asking her anything about her marriage, Laura placed her infant son on Kate’s lap. Nathaniel Barton was Kate’s greatest weakness, his adorable baby cheeks and attentive blue eyes being what drew Kate in the most. She loved to hold the baby in her arms, especially because he seemed to be aware of the comforting presence he brought to the young Duchess.
“How are you, honey? I did not think we would be seeing you so soon.” Laura’s gentle voice brought her eyes away from the infant in her arms.
“I am well now, I did not feel well until a few days ago. I stayed in bed the whole day.” Kate knew it would be impossible to hide anything from the older Duchess. “I have a personal maid now, and she’s the most gentle maid I have ever had the pleasure to encounter.” Her smile was genuine.
Kate’s gaze returned to the baby, who was trying to catch her attention by grabbing her necklace. She carefully took the small hand away from the jewel and began playing with Nathaniel. His baby smiles made the young Duchess smile widely. Never taking her eyes away, she hugged him to her chest, gently lowering her head to rest their foreheads together. The gesture elicited a sweet, laugh-like sound from the baby. Kate was completely lost in Nate’s presence, not noticing the footsteps approaching nor the loving look Laura was giving her.
Eventually, Kate realised someone was entering the tea room. The sound did not make her look away, as she knew the footsteps belonged to Clint.
“Katie, honey, I did not know you would be visiting today.” His surprised tone reached Kate’s ears, prompting a wider smile on her face. Clint sat on the same couch she and Laura had occupied, choosing to sit on the young woman’s other side. He tenderly put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a kiss on the top of her head. “I am so happy to see you here, Katie. I missed you.”
The words momentarily broke the spell she was under, and she smiled at her father figure. The Bartons never failed to make her feel at home.
“It is a happy coincidence, in fact, as I have some news to share with you all.” Clint’s happily announced.
Cooper and Lila directed their gaze at their father as soon as he finished speaking. Laura was already looking at him, and Kate slowly lifted her gaze, curiosity tearing her away from the still smiling baby. The latest Whistledown was abandoned on the small table in front of the comfortable couch; she had missed the last few publications and realised she probably had to pay the newsboys so she could continue reading the most famous society paper.
Her mind was brought back to reality by Clint’s joyous voice.
“The Princess is getting married!”