nor

It wasn't real, you kept reminding yourself. It was just a way to give Daphne the season she deserved. And Anthony had absolutely no interest in marriage anyway, so he would surely not particularly mind when you ended things with him.

Besides, you were fairly certain he only saw you as a sister, much like Daphne, so it was doubtful he’d even be amenable to the prospect of starting a courtship with you. It was taking a lot of mental work to convince yourself that this would be fine.

But at the end of the day, you had your own reputation to think about. As much as you enjoyed spending time with Anthony at high society balls, you knew it wasn't the best for your image if you were constantly seen dancing with a man who wasn't courting you. Someone was bound to think that something was wrong with you. Several people had asked you already, actually.

So, you smoothed your skirts and steeled your nerves. This was the best option for Daphne. And for you if you wanted to keep spending as much time with Anthony as you were now.

Looking around the ballroom, your eyes met the eldest Bridgerton's.

His eyes immediately lit up, blinking as he took in your impressive ballgown and elbow-length gloves. Quickly, he started walking toward you, practically tripping over Cressida Cowper's train because he was in such a rush.

“Good evening, Lady L/N,” he bowed, putting on the stuffy voice you’d heard him use with his mother’s friends.

“Good evening, Viscount,” you responded, playing along with him.

He flashed you the most charming smile you had ever seen, and you understood completely why the ladies of the ton swooned over him. If you had his charisma and good looks, you’d probably be a rake, too.

“Fancy a dance tonight?” he asked casually, his hand reaching out to softly touch your dance-card-clad wrist.

“I suppose I do,” you responded, flashing him a vibrant smile. The nerves you had felt a few minutes ago had practically evaporated, leaving only room for excitement as Anthony interwove his fingers with yours and led you to the dance floor.

A few minutes after the dance had begun, you caught a glimpse of Daphne and Mr Norwood looking completely smitten with one another. It quickly reminded you of your goal for the night. If Daphne was going to marry Mr Norwood then you needed to bite the bullet and get this over with right now.

As you were staring intently at your best friend and the man she wanted to marry, your brow furrowed and lips pursed, you felt Anthony's warm breath close to your ear.

“What’s on your mind?” he whispered softly, sensing your mind was elsewhere.

Having spent so much time with you in the past few weeks, Anthony had grown accustomed to your quirks and knew that you weren’t being your usual self.

You froze. It was now or never.

“Um… Well… I was just thinking about how our dancing every night looks. To other people I mean. Given that we’re not courting,” you babbled, unable to meet the eyes of the man in front of you.

Confused, Anthony continued, “Is this about what I said the other night? About only being able to dance so many times?”

“No, not at all,” you reassured him. If you two did end up courting, you didn’t ever want him to think he was at fault. “Just some comments I’ve heard from ladies around the ton, you know how they are. They ask me questions I don’t particularly know the answer to,” you said dismissively.

“And you’re worried about how this will affect you in the future, as an unmarried lady?”

“Well… yes,” you responded lamely. Although everything you had said up to this point was true, you were still unable to meet his eyes, the guilt of deceiving him eating away at you.

Anthony knit his eyebrows together in confusion. Hadn’t you physically recoiled at the thought of courting him just a few days ago when he said it as a joke?

Regardless, he mulled over what you had said. He knew you fairly well, and even though you weren’t usually bothered by a bit of gossip (you were spending time with him even though he was the world’s biggest rake, for heaven’s sake), he understood your hesitation.

“Does this mean you want me to properly court you?” he asked gently, not wanting to scare you off again.

Perhaps it was the sincerity in Anthony’s voice, or just you realizing the gravity of the situation, but you immediately tensed up.

“No, I don’t think so,” you started slowly, torn between helping Daphne and protecting yourself. But you had already made your choice. You loved your best friend, but not to the point of breaking all social decorum and asking a man to court you. “Not at all,” you laughed airily. “I know you’re not looking to marry, and honestly neither am I. It was just a silly comment, my apologies.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

You cursed Daphne’s brother for being so perceptive. How on earth could he tell exactly what you were feeling?

“I don’t know,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. God, this would be so much easier if you had feelings for him and wanted to court him. Then you could just say yes and stop feeling so guilty.

Seeing how torn you were, Anthony decided to let the subject lie. The season was still only beginning, and there would be yet time to figure out what exactly was going on between you.

However, letting the subject lie decidedly did not mean that he would stop thinking about it. In fact, it was the only thing he thought about for the rest of the night, completely missing an almost inappropriate kiss Mr Norwood left on Daphne’s hand.

--- 

Anthony hadn’t stopped thinking about the possibility of properly courting you the following morning. He sat in his sunroom, rereading the same paragraph for the sixth time as he tried to focus on anything other than your anxiety-filled eyes the previous night. 

“Y/N was looking rather lovely last night,” commented Daphne offhandedly as she worked on her needlepoint. 

“What?” said Anthony, startled out of his thoughts. He’d completely forgotten his sister was in the room with him, too. 

“Y/N, last night, looking lovely,” repeated Daphne, covertly looking at her brother as he remembered what you were wearing at Lady Danbury’s ball. 

“Err… I suppose she did look rather fetching, yes,” he responded awkwardly, shuffling the newspaper on his lap to another page. 

Then, looking at his sister suspiciously, he added, “But I wasn’t looking to get married this year, Daphne.”

You had told her about how you’d been unable to ask Anthony to court, of course. You had apologized profusely, but Daphne would hear none of it. Reassuring you that it was no problem, really, and that she understood your hesitation completely, Daphne had decided to shift her focus to her brother. It was true, a woman asking a man to dance was completely taboo, and it probably wouldn’t even have worked. So, although you hadn’t outright asked Anthony to court, you had certainly gotten the closest to it that a woman in polite society could. Now all he needed was a little push. 

“Neither was Y/N, to my understanding,” she responded, keeping her tone light and her eyes on her thread and needle. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Anthony waved dismissively. “She’s said it herself, I’m the biggest rake in Mayfair. Getting involved in her would only hurt her image in the long run.”

“Don’t be daft,” laughed Daphne. “You’re a Bridgerton. Rake or not, I doubt any association with you would taint her image in the slightest. She’s been involved with us for years! She’s my best friend, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Anthony humphed, annoyed that his little sister was making sense. Stubbornly, he continued, “Exactly, it’s not a good idea to bring feelings into a courtship, anyway. She’s been a friend of the family for ages.”

Daphne shrugged, slowly becoming more supportive of her best friend courting her brother, whether it was under false pretenses or not. “I certainly wouldn’t mind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

After a pause, she added, “And how do you know the feelings are there? That’s what a courtship is for, isn’t it?” 

She was in quite a similar situation herself, though she could never tell Anthony lest he completely lose his mind. 

Daphne looked up at her brother, almost seeing the gears in his mind turning. 

“Do you really think I should?” he asked, setting down the newspaper beside him. 

“If you want,” she responded flippantly, knowing Anthony had already made up his mind. 

“Oh my word, it’s almost afternoon!” exclaimed Anthony, looking at the grandfather clock on the other side of the sunroom. “I should go now, I suppose. What if someone else has already come to call on her? Am I too late?”

Daphne, highly amused at her brother’s sudden sense of urgency, laughed. “Only one way to find out…” 

But Anthony didn’t hear her response, already rushing out of the room to grab his coat so he could go call on you. Properly. Like a gentleman. For the first time. 

And funnily enough, Anthony felt no fear, no anxiety, no dread. Nothing that he usually felt when thinking about courtship and marriage. He was simply excited to see you.

—

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You were interrupted from over-analyzing Daphne’s body language toward her suitor by someone clearing their throat next to you. 

“Anthony!” you exclaimed as you turned, happy to see him. “I hadn't seen you tonight, my apologies.” 

Just as the eldest Bridgerton began to respond, you caught Daphne laughing what could only be described as a flirty giggle, while Mr Norwood placed a hand on her upper arm. Distracted, you squinted to see if your best friend had placed a hand on his arm, too. You couldn’t wait until tomorrow when you would hear all about this encounter. You had been hearing about Mr Norwood for a few days now, and it was endearing to see how taken Daphne was with him.

“Hmm?” you asked Anthony, having entirely missed what he had said. 

“I was just wondering whether you were going to… ask me to dance,” repeated Anthony, uncharacteristically hesitant.

You distractedly took in his words, tearing your eyes away from Daphne and seeing the man in front of you nervously rubbing his neck as he waited for your response. 

“Oh, right,” you said, remembering where you were. You were supposed to stop Daphne’s brother from obsessing over her and her suitor, not obsessing over them yourself!

“The past few balls you’ve asked me to dance; I had just come to expect it at this point,” continued Anthony, still seeming a bit off-kilter as he reminded you that dancing with him had become a quasi-routine. “I didn’t know whether I’d done something to upset you or if you simply didn’t feel like dancing tonight.”

Seeing Phillip start to kiss Daphne’s gloved hand out of the corner of your eye brought you back to your senses completely. 

“Not at all; I’d love to dance!” you blurted out, turning Anthony so his sister and her admirer were directly behind him.

You quickly grabbed Anthony’s hand and led him to the dance floor, tripping over yourself in an attempt to distract your best friend’s brother.

Almost instinctually, Anthony grabbed your waist to keep you from falling, an arm placed firmly around you as he held you close to him. When you finally felt solid ground again, you met his eyes. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, suddenly feeling extremely aware of where his hands were placed and just how close your chest was to his. “I’ve just been a tad distracted tonight,” you apologized, doing your best to ignore how close his mouth was to yours.

Once again, as had become habitual, the pair of you began to dance. In all honesty, it was a delightful endeavor, at least for you. It was quite unexplainable, really, but you and Anthony seemed to move as one, and you had never expected something as simple as a dance to feel so… right. 

“This is the first time you’ve asked me to dance, you know,” you teased Anthony as he spun you around. 

“Is it?” he responded, amused at your observation. “Would you like me to call on you tomorrow, too, or is asking you for a dance enough?” 

You knew he was only teasing, but you grew flustered nonetheless, tripping over your feet and almost falling to the ground once again. Even though Anthony was there to steady you with a hand on your hip and another wrapped around you, you ripped his hands away from you.

“No! That wasn’t– I mean, I didn’t–” you spluttered, an unexplained panic rising in you. 

“I was only joking, Y/N,” he said softly, eyes wide as he took in your extreme reaction to what was meant to be a light-hearted comment. He supposed you very well and truly weren’t interested in him. And though this was a fact he knew already, this did nothing to quell the slight pang of disappointment he felt as he looked at the beautiful woman in front of him.

As the music ended and he led you back to the crowd, Anthony muttered to himself, “Though there are only so many times we can dance without courting before it’s considered improper.” 

He shouldn’t have asked you to dance tonight, he scolded himself. Look at you, practically trembling at the mere idea of Anthony calling on you tomorrow. He should have just let it lie and not come to talk to you tonight. As was his nature, he would never forgive himself if your standing in the ton suffered because of a silly crush he could never act upon.

“Would it really be considered a scandal?” you inquired, feeling a tad self-conscious because you and Anthony had danced at every ball for the last two weeks. 

Mortified, he turned to face you properly. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he apologized. “But I promise you have nothing to worry about. It's only been a few dances, and seeing how close you are to our family it's hardly worthy of any gossip.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you nodded at Anthony, feeling much more calm. 

Trying to lighten the mood, you teased him. “I didn’t know you cared what people thought of you, seeing how you’re the biggest rake in all of England, and probably beyond, too."

He rolled his eyes bashfully, never until this moment having felt embarrassed about how easily he was able to charm women, unmarried or otherwise. 

“Well, I don’t care about what it means for me,” he said as if it were obvious. “I have no plans to marry anytime soon. But I’d like for you to be able to court anyone you want whenever you feel ready.”

“Oh,” you breathed, taken aback by how earnest Anthony was being. “I didn’t know you were so concerned about my prospects,” you said finally.

Quite nonchalantly, Anthony responded, “I vowed to my father to take care of you and my sisters, and I have no plans of betraying that promise.”

You felt your face growing hot. Perhaps it was the sincerity of the Bridgerton’s words, or perhaps it was how easily he showed his concern for you, but you had never felt quite so taken care of. 

Your mouth was wholly uncooperative, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, you reached for Anthony’s hand and squeezed it, hoping it was enough to communicate how much you appreciated him. 

His easy smile as he squeezed your hand back told you that he had heard your message with clarity. 

Turning to scan the ballroom, Anthony grumbled, “Now where on Earth is Daphne? If she’s with that Norwood fellow again I swear I’ll ban her from leaving the house again.”

“I'm sure I have no idea,” you said innocently, having just seen the pair hand in hand as they made their way to the dance floor.

“Good-for-nothing rake without even so much as a title,” he muttered, setting off in the direction of his mother in the hope that she would know where Daphne was.

You shook your head amusedly. It was alarmingly easy to slip into this routine with him. You had known the Bridgertons for most of your life, but it had never felt so… natural with any of the other boys in the family as it did with Anthony recently.

But you paid this no mind. At least Daphne was getting to find a love match, Phillip Norwood or otherwise. So what if you were having a bit of fun with your ploy? You got to dance at ton balls without having to court anyone and watch your best friend fall in love at the same time. There didn’t really seem to be any downsides to Daphne’s little plan. 

—

“Daphne, I can’t do that,” you insisted, your voice firm. "I don't even want to do that!"

“Please, Y/N. It’s the only way,” she begged.

Standing in front of you in your sunroom, on a perfectly normal Friday, she was asking you to start properly courting Anthony. As if it wasn't one of the most preposterous things you'd ever heard. As if your worth in society as a woman came almost entirely from whom you married, and she was asking you to make a mockery of it.

It had been two weeks of you breaking all social norms and asking Anthony to dance with you, and in the meantime, Daphne had managed to find a gentleman she actually liked. You should have known from the way she looked at Phillip, but it seemed that Mr Norwood wasn't just another suitor. He truly seemed to make your best friend happy, but you wondered if it was worth it for you if you had to court her brother. 

Setting your feelings aside, you remembered that hadn’t seen Daphne this happy since before she came out last year, and it was upsetting to know that it could all go away if you decided to discontinue your ruse.

“Daphne, I don’t know that this is such a good idea,” you said, not as resistant as earlier but certainly not on board. Yet. "What is your goal with this? I can't for the life of me see how this would be more effective than just continuing to dance with him.”

“I would never force you to do this, and I would never want you to feel like you have to do it,” Daphne started, prioritizing your friendship as usual. “You are correct. Getting the chance to meet Mr Norwood has been absolutely wonderful and I am forever grateful to you for it. However, one dance every other evening is simply not enough to build a courtship. I need to properly be able to actually speak with Phillip when he calls on me, and I can’t very well do that if Anthony is watching me like a hawk. I would be able to do all of the regular courtship activities my brother does not allow me to if he is busy courting someone himself.”

Admittedly, she had a point. You found yourself nodding, not terribly repulsed by the idea of having Anthony show up at your door the morning after a ball with a bouquet, despite what you'd told Daphne earlier. 

“But how exactly would this end?” you pressed. “Anthony and I can’t very well get married.”

Though you wanted nothing more than happiness and fulfillment for your best friend, courting the most well-known rake in all of Mayfair could have consequences for you, too. It was true, you weren’t particularly interested in marrying this season, but being romantically associated with the likes of Anthony Bridgerton was bound to start some gossip around Mayfair. So would ending said romantic association, which you knew had to happen eventually. As much as he was a rake, Anthony was one of the most desired bachelors in polite society, and ending a courtship with him might inadvertently harm your social standing. 

Squealing, Daphne grabbed your hands and led you to the chaise near the window. As you sat down, she started talking excitedly. 

“Well, it would only be for a few weeks. A month, at most. Or at least until it’s obvious enough that we’re getting married and my brother can’t do anything about it,” she assured you. “That will be enough time to have a proper courtship, and you can break things off with Anthony.”

You hum, deep in thought. “Won’t Anthony be upset?” you asked. Daphne knew him best, of course, but this seemed like the sort of thing that would tick off a man. That is, starting a courtship that was never bound to result in anything. 

“You know he has no interest in marrying anyway, so I doubt you ending the courtship would be of concern.”

“That’s a fair point,” you agreed reluctantly. “He did mention that it might be seen as improper that we dance together so often yet aren’t properly courting. And though I don’t want to marry this season, I would eventually like to find someone. So I suppose this is what makes the most sense.”

Daphne squealed again, reaching over to hug you. “Oh, you truly are the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”

You giggled at her excitement, relieved that you could help your best friend find a fairy-tale love. And besides, you wouldn’t mind having to spend more time with Anthony. 

—

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Daphne groaned, a scowl set deep on her face, as she took a piece of bread from your basket and broke it into chunks to feed the ducks.

"Don't remind me. Most of them called, actually," she responded. "If only Anthony had let me have three seconds with them I might have been able to discern whether or not I was actually interested. He barged into the sunroom and promptly kicked everyone out. There was not a single suitor left in the room by the time he'd finished!"

You snorted. "Ah, so the overbearing eldest brother is once again to blame."

"Isn't he always?" she responded, too annoyed to match the lightness in your tone.

You just smiled to yourself and fed the ducks silently, knowing Daphne well enough to hide your smile from her, given that she was more than likely fuming at Anthony's constant meddling. You knew he meant well, but he was known to go a bit overboard at times. Well, most times. Especially when it came to Daphne's courtships.

"Anthony's the biggest rake in Mayfair, anyway. I don't know exactly what moral high ground he thinks he's standing on but it's certainly not as sturdy as he assumes," continued Daphne, still upset over that morning's happenings.

"Is it really that bad, Daph?" you said in an attempt to console her. "At least you're not getting hordes of unpleasant men at your doorstep every day. And you know the kinds of men that frequent the ton aren't always the kind you'd want to spend your afternoons with."

"I'm not getting any men at my doorstep! That's the problem!" exclaimed Daphne, exasperated. "I know you might not share the same desires as me, but I would eventually like to get married and have a family."

"I want to find a husband, too," you insisted, your tone bordering on defensive. "I just don't particularly feel bothered to look for one during my first season."

Daphne sobered immediately, coming out of her annoyance toward her brother as she could sense you were upset. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear," she insisted, placing a hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. "It was just-"

"I understand," you smiled at her, placing your hand over hers. "I just don't have the same urgency as you do, on account of my father having absolutely no stake in my marital status. No stake in anything about me at all, actually."

It would be a sad sentiment if you weren't used to it. You were an only child, and your mother had died after getting ill when you were only five years old. Your father, of course, was quite busy with the land he managed, and thus most of your upbringing had just been you and your governess. And the Bridgertons, of course.

You had met Daphne when she was eight and you were seven, and the two of you had gotten along splendidly since then. Since you had no real family of your own, bar your absent father, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence at Daphne's insistence. You now found yourself to be a semi-permanent fixture in their house, feeling just as home there as you did at your father's home.

This proximity to the Bridgertons had made you intimately familiar with Anthony's overprotective demeanor. Ever since you and Daphne were young, Anthony had gone out of his way to make sure that his siblings were cared for. Sometimes that included you, too. But unfortunately, he could take it too far sometimes.

"Did you like anyone last night, at least? Your dress was quite magnificent and I know I'm not the only one who noticed," you winked at Daphne.

She hummed thoughtfully. "I don't entirely know. I don't think one dance is enough to know whether I truly like someone," she responded, slumping down on the bench.

"Especially not when Anthony cuts the dance short halfway through," you laughed, recalling the eldest Bridgerton's attempts to thwart Daphne's search for a husband.

But your comment did nothing to lighten the mood. Instead, it seemed to make your friend even more irritated.

"It's my second year out in society! I still don't have a husband. Not even close to it, apparently," continued Daphne, aggressively tossing bits of bread into the pond.

"Well, you have to marry eventually. Anthony can't keep you away from every man for the rest of your life!" you argued.

But this did little to quell Daphne's annoyance. "He's certainly trying," she muttered.

"We can ship him off to the West Indies for the season," you joked. "Surely he won't be able to interrupt your suitors from halfway across the globe."

Suddenly, Daphne raised her eyebrows, looking at you with a devious smile.

"I was only joking! We can't actually ship him away," you laughed. "Besides, how would the ladies of the ton ever survive without the most desirable bachelor who is always just out of reach?"

Daphne snorted, amused at your dig at Anthony. "No, no, we don't have to ship him away," she said. "But you are correct in saying that I need time away from him to fully explore potential matches."

You hummed in agreement, imagining how much easier life would be for Daphne if her older brother simply... let her be. "Is he going on a hunting trip soon?" you said hopefully.

Your best friend shook her head, still smiling at you like she was plotting something.

"What is it?" you pressed, laughing at her expression.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she said, an expectant look in her eyes.

“Yes, I’ll kill Anthony for you. I’ve only been waiting for you to ask,” you joked.

“No,” Daphne laughed. “I’m serious.”

“Go on then,” you nodded.

“Could you ask him to dance at tomorrow’s ball?”

“Me? Ask him? Are you out of your mind?” you sputtered. You had never danced with Anthony at a ball, and you couldn't fathom the first time you did so being after you were the one to ask him.

“Y/N, please. I can’t just rely on forlorn glances across the ballroom to secure suitors. I need to actually speak with them, and I won’t be able to if Anthony keeps... hovering.”

Granted, hovering was a very generous word for what Anthony was really doing. But still, you looked at her, uncertainty in your eyes. You weren’t particularly keen on asking Anthony to dance, knowing he was famously opposed to marriage at this point in his life. Yes, you had grown up around him, but that didn’t mean he was interested in you at all, and you didn’t want to face that rejection if you could avoid it.

“Don’t give me that look! I promise it’ll work,” cried Daphne, desperate. “Just tell him you feel like dancing but don’t want to give another man the wrong impression since it’s only your first season and you’re still biding your time. Most of which is true.”

She made a good point. You didn’t want the hordes of men that seemed to flock to Daphne just yet. And would one dance really hurt that much?

---

The music in the ballroom pleasantly surrounded you as you stood next to Violet. Daphne had left to dance with Lord Wilson, a bachelor of very distinguished background who seemed to be hanging onto every word your best friend said.

Just as you turned to Violet to comment on how well-suited the pair looked, Anthony stormed over to where you were standing.

"It's unbelievable that she's even giving him the time of day," he said lowly, looking wholly unimpressed by the dance happening a few feet in front of him.

You could feel Anthony growing tense beside you as the seconds ticked by, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Three seconds of his sister speaking with a man and he was ready to explode already? He was worse than you thought.

You saw Daphne lean back as she laughed at something the gentleman said, and you knew you had to act fast before Anthony intervened.

“Oh, the music is wonderful tonight! Anthony, would you care for a dance?”

He tore his gaze away from his sister and looked at you, perplexed.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“I believe I am, Anthony,” you said.

He scoffed, not quite believing you. “That is not very proper of you, Lady L/N.”

“And you are a great authority on propriety, I presume?" you said, a playful edge to your voice. "Given your… adventures as a rake, surely you have a better idea of what is proper than I do.”

Anthony choked at your bold choice of words, not used to people calling him out so publicly. “Y/N! Why do you want to dance with me then, if I'm such a rake?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just enjoy the music and want to dance. And I don’t want to give any other men the wrong impression,” you recited exactly what Daphne had told you to say.

He nodded reluctantly and took your hand. “Very well. One dance, then. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression of me either.”

This was the last time you ever did anything for Daphne. God, how difficult could one man be?

But all of your annoyance faded away once he placed his hand on your hip and spun you around. This was rather nice, you found yourself thinking. You hadn't properly danced at a ball yet, and you couldn't help but think that you'd missed out on a rather enjoyable activity.

The dance was going along quite smoothly, and you and Anthony seemed to be melting together, no longer two individuals but instead moving more like one entity. You were especially enjoying whenever his grip shifted slightly and his hand ran across the small of your back. To be truthful, you were simply having fun.

That is until you felt Anthony shifting you across the dance floor so you could get nearer to Daphne and the gentleman she was dancing with. Feeling Anthony's shoulders tense underneath your gingerly placed hands, you looked up at him.

Looking into his eyes, you raised your eyebrows. "She's fine, you know. You don't have to watch over her every second of every ball."

Anthony rolled his eyes, dismissing your comment. "Of course I do. She's my sister! I have to take care of her. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her or if she ended up betrothed to a dolt."

"Anthony," you softened your tone. "It's quite alright. It's not all up to you. You've got an entire family to keep her safe. And me, of course."

You could feel his muscles relax under your hands. "Thank you," he breathed out. "I know all of that to be true. I just worry about her. And about you! But luckily there aren't many suitors of yours to scare off."

"Oh," you said, your voice squeakier than you intended. "Thank you?" you questioned. You weren't quite sure how to take his comment.

"No!" he rushed out, immediately realizing what his words sounded like. "I didn't mean it like that. Daphne had just mentioned that you're not as interested in finding someone right now since it's your first season. And I hadn't really seen you dance with anyone at one of these balls before. And-"

"It's no trouble, Anthony," you smiled, giggling at how flustered he'd gotten. "I appreciate the concern nonetheless."

He shook his head, still not believing that he'd been so rude toward you. As much as you were a familiar face around his home, he couldn't quite tease you the way he did Daphne or any of his other sisters, and he was dreadfully embarrassed that he had made you upset, even if just for a moment.

"If you ever want to dance again, just come to me, understood?" he said, his voice turning serious. "I don't need another one of you to worry about."

You could barely contain your laughter as the music came to an end. "Yes, Anthony," you said dutifully, smiling at how silly he was being.

Looking over at Daphne, you were pleased to see that everything had gone to plan and she'd had the chance to talk to Lord Wilson the entire time you'd been with her brother. It was a relief that she'd finally gotten a normal courting experience.

Before Anthony could reach her and wrench her away from her suitor, Daphne rushed over to you, grabbing your arm excitedly.

"Shall we take a turn about the ballroom?" she suggested, leaving you no room to protest as she led you away from her mother and brother.

You laughed at her excitement, glad that your best friend was finally enjoying herself.

"Thank you so much, Y/N, truly," she gushed, squeezing your arm affectionately. "That was absolutely incredible. It's the longest time I've been able to spend with a potential match without Anthony hanging over my shoulder."

"I'm happy to do it," you said amusedly. "He was that lovely, then?"

"Oh, absolutely not," she shook her head. "Lord Wilson was dreadfully boring. But at least now I know! And I don't have to pine over him or wonder what he would be like. I know for certain I'm not interested, and I can focus on finding my true love match."

"That's wonderful, Daph," you laughed. You truly held so much affection for her. It was endearing to see her so excited over spending time with a man she didn't even like.

Suddenly, Daphne slowed her pace. Turning you around, she held both of your hands and took a deep breath. "Yes, it was. Which is why I must ask you to dance with Anthony tomorrow night as well."

"What do you mean? Ask him to dance again? I thought this was only for tonight," you sounded unconvinced. Asking her brother to dance one time had already been enough of a hassle, but having to pretend to need him to dance with you once more was looking like an insurmountable challenge.

"Please, Y/N," she begged. "It's the only way I'll find a husband that isn't someone like Nigel Berbrooke," she added, whispering the last part.

It was true, Anthony seemed to have impossibly high standards that only the most unpleasant bachelor in Mayfair seemed to be able to meet. If you could do anything to protect Daphne from that unpleasant fate, you would do it.

"I suppose I could try tomorrow night. Though I can't promise he'll want to dance with me again. Anthony seemed quite reluctant tonight," you conceded.

"Nonsense," said Daphne, rolling her eyes. "Anthony loves you dearly, I can't imagine he'd ever turn you down."

"Whatever you say," you responded, unconvinced but unwilling to dampen your best friend's chipper mood. Besides, you had a wonderful time with Anthony tonight. How could another dance possibly go wrong?

—

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The pair danced together twice despite not officially courting. This would be highly unusual if the look in Mr. Bridgerton’s eyes whenever he was near Lady Y/N was not a very familiar one. It seems that this season might not be a complete disaster for Lady Y/N after all, given that one man is still fighting for her hand. Whether or not she knows that Mr. Bridgerton feels this way remains to be seen.

“On y va,” said Louis, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you out the front door (Let’s go).

You blinked, surprised that the rest of your family was already piling into a carriage headed toward Bridgerton house. Heavens, you really needed to start paying attention.

The past few days– ever since your father told you Colin would be a suitable match, to be exact– you had been so deep in thought you’d barely managed to function. The possibility of marrying Colin Bridgerton, if he even wanted you, was a daunting one, and you had opted to devote hours of thought to this very notion.

In fact, your pondering had been so extensive that you hadn’t even managed to read Lady Whistledown. After a summer of religiously reading the gossip sheet, you had somehow missed the last two installments without even remembering to look for it at the breakfast table.

Hopping into the carriage alongside Louis, you mulled over the previous night’s ball. Colin had asked you to dance twice, which was highly unusual for two people in polite society who weren't courting. However, you reasoned that he probably was trying to compensate for all the time he spent being a nuisance. Besides, he was a great dancer, and you really didn’t mind.

Especially now that you were friends, it was exceedingly easy to spend time with him.

But did you love him?

The question lingered in your mind, unmoving and unrelenting.

Wouldn’t you know for sure if you did? Was your uncertainty indicative of something deeper? A fundamental lack of romantic feelings for Colin, perhaps? Your sister, Isabelle, and her husband were completely in love with one another, and you weren’t quite sure you felt the same way about the third Bridgerton.

---

As soon as you stepped through the garden door, your eyes immediately scanned the garden, searching for Colin. Finding him engaged in some sort of competition with Gregory and Benedict involving three Pall Mall balls and a fencing sword, you giggled to yourself as you started toward them.

“Y/N,” a hand on your arm interrupted your purposeful walk.

You turned to see Eloise’s excited face, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

“Hello!” you greeted, kissing both of her cheeks as she dragged you toward a shadier spot.

As she launched into a lengthy explanation about her latest read, you listened to your friend intently. Of course, it had only been a few days since you’d last seen her, but the two of you always found something or other to discuss, and you found yourself in deep conversation with Eloise before you knew it.

What felt like a few minutes later, but was probably closer to an hour, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“I didn’t know you were here,” said Colin, not sounding entirely happy with you. “I thought you would have come by and said hello by now,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

You smiled fondly at his pouting face, unable to help yourself as you looked at this grown man completely worked up over the fact that Eloise had gotten to you first.

“That would be my fault,” laughed Eloise. “You don’t have a monopoly over Y/N, you know. But I fear I’ve talked her ear off already, so I’ll leave you to it.”

Colin rolled his eyes but bent down to kiss both of your cheeks anyway.

“It’s lovely to see you,” you said softly, eyes fixated on his long eyelashes fanning over his face. He really was very handsome, when you thought about it.

You had to physically clasp your hands together to keep from reaching out to him once he pulled back, and you scolded yourself for forgetting your manners. This was certainly not an appropriate way to act as an unmarried lady!

“You’re not upset with me, then?” asked Colin, looking you up and down.

You laughed. “Why would I be?”

“I dunno,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I was just used to it after so long, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well, we’re friends now,” you reassured him. “So there’s no need to worry.”

“Right, friends,” Colin repeated after you, not entirely pleased with the way the words felt coming out of his mouth.

Suddenly, you heard a scream from across the garden, and a bright blue ball shooting in your direction. Turning around just in time to see Gregory’s horrified expression, you came face to face with what was certain to be a Pall Mall ball directly to the face.

But a strong pair of arms grabbed your waist and pulled you away. For a moment you couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened, and you were simply enjoying the feel of Colin’s arms around you as he hugged you tight to him.

Realizing that he had saved you from what would have most certainly been a black eye, you turned your head up to look at Colin. But he was already looking down at you, his grip still tight as he held you to his chest.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes not letting go of yours.

You nodded slowly, not trusting yourself to speak because you were so mesmerized by his eyes. He let out a sigh of relief, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly.

Hearing Gregory’s footsteps approaching, Colin quickly let go of you and cleared his throat awkwardly. But he couldn’t find it in himself to let you go completely, so he settled for leaving a hand on your waist, thumb rubbing up and down comfortingly.

Needing to keep feeling his touch, you raised one of your hands and reached across your waist, placing your hand softly over his and loosely interlocking your fingers.

“I’m so sorry!” yelled Gregory once he reached you. “I wasn’t looking and I swear I would have never hit you on purpose and-”

You laughed, cutting him off. “It’s quite alright, Gregory. Though I’m not certain your mother would agree,” you teased, nodding to where Violet was sitting, clearly furious at her son.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “I’ve got to go save myself,” he said seriously, immediately taking off running across the garden and away from his mother.

You heard Colin laughing at Gregory’s antics next to you, and as you turned around to watch him with his head thrown back and a roguish smile on his face, you took in a sharp breath.

It might have been the sun shining through his hair, the mirth in his eyes, or the fact that he had just saved you from a very painful fate, but you felt like you were seeing him for the first time. You felt a tidal wave of realization so strong come over you that you had to take a step back.

“Oh,” you said softly, barely audible. Oh.

You loved Colin Bridgerton.

That’s what this feeling was. Feeling completely safe around him, so comfortable being yourself, and wanting more of him in any way possible. The need to feel his touch, the pull you felt toward him every time he was near you, and the desire to keep speaking with him for hours– it all made sense now.

You loved Colin Bridgerton.

Of course you did. It was frankly astounding that you hadn’t realized it sooner. But you couldn’t ruin the friendship you’d built with him over some silly feelings, could you?

Despite wanting to run into Colin’s arms, you knew you needed to get as far away from him as possible right then. So, you excused yourself to sit on a more secluded bench where you could think freely about the consequences of your realization.

---

It had been two hours since you had last spoken to Colin, and he was getting antsy.

Everything had been fine. Or at least that’s what he thought. Gregory had catapulted a ball directly at your head, and he had grabbed you and pulled you out of the way. And then refused to let go of you. All because he was too taken with you to remember how to act properly as a member of polite society.

Colin started pacing. You had probably figured out that he loved you. His behavior today had been a dead giveaway. There was simply no possibility of you still not knowing of his feelings for you, and Colin was three seconds away from losing his mind.

You had found out and now you were probably avoiding him, how dreadfully embarrassing. He needed to fix this now. Before your family went home and you never let him see you again.

Wringing his hands behind his back as he approached the bench you had been sitting on for the past two hours, Colin cleared his throat softly.

“Do you have a moment to speak?” he asked, overly formal as he navigated uncharted waters.

You nodded in response, gesturing toward the empty seat next to you. “I suppose we should,” you assented, the past few hours of nerves completely soothed by Colin’s presence.

“I very much appreciate our friendship as it is,” stated Colin. “And I really can’t apologize enough for my conduct earlier in the season.”

“Oh, Colin, that’s not-”

“No, no just let me finish. Otherwise, I won’t have the courage to get it out.”

Colin swallowed before continuing.

“I… I know that you want to marry a titled man and I know I don’t have a fortune. I am a third son with no talents and… and yet, I love you anyway. And I am so sorry. I promise I never meant for this to happen, but I love you. I do.”

You stared dumbly at him, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you realized that he had the same feelings for you as you did for him.

Admittedly, it was a bit entertaining watching him get all worked up over nothing, you mused. But it seemed like he was determined to keep speaking, so you only nodded as he continued.

“Y/N, you are all I think about, and all I picture as my future,” Colin said, eyes not quite reaching yours. “And I’ve never come across someone quite like you, who makes me feel the way you do. I know it’s horrible timing and it’s not at all my place to feel this way or to tell you. You must understand that I am so sorry, but I love you anyway.”

Then, lifting his worried eyes to meet yours, he started reaching for your hand, stopping himself before his fingers touched yours. “I hope you can forgive me because I would be more than happy to attend your wedding and see your dreams realized. But, believe me. I’ve tried, and I can’t help it. Not with you.”

“Colin,” you whispered, hand reaching out to touch his cheek.

He shook his head in response and closed his eyes, clearly pained by the thought of seeing you with anyone else.

“You can send me away if you like,” Colin assured you. “If you tell me to never speak to you again, I will. I’m so sorry. I just needed you to hear it from me.”

“Colin,” you repeated this time a bit more forcefully.

His eyes shot open, and he furrowed his brows at your smiling face. “Yes?”

You giggled. “I think I’d like to kiss you now.”

“What?” he said, dumbfounded.

“I’d like to kiss you now if that’s alright with you,” you said, biting your lip as you held back a laugh.

Colin took a second to process what you had just said. You nodded at him, confirming that you did, in fact, want to kiss him, and his face broke out into the biggest smile you’d ever seen on his face.

Placing a hand on your cheek, he fluttered his eyes closed and put his lips on yours. You brought a hand behind his neck and pulled him in closer, amazed at the feeling of finally kissing someone.

You rather suspected you had wanted this for a while, you thought, your lips moving in sync with Colin’s. How on earth you had managed to keep your hands to yourself before this you had no idea, but as the kiss deepened, you brought your hands to his shoulders and pulled Colin in, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Suddenly remembering why you were kissing in the first place, you pulled away from Colin, who whined softly as you leaned away from him, chasing your lips with his.

“I love you, too, you know,” you said, pecking Colin as he stared at you like you had personally hung every star in the sky.

Colin groaned under his breath, breathing deeply as he once again placed his lips on yours. “I love you,” he said between kisses, not ready to let you go long enough to say it properly. “So much.”

You smiled into the kiss, slipping your tongue into Colin’s mouth and tentatively exploring the new feeling. How you had ever lived without this was beyond you, but you supposed you had never really wanted this before you met him. Even at the beginning of the season, when you supposedly hated him, you could recall more than a few times you had felt this exact desire.

“I hope you don’t plan on defiling my daughter if you don’t intend to marry her,” came your father’s deep voice from behind you two.

Instantly separating from one another, you both coughed awkwardly and tried to disentangle yourselves.

“Marry her?” sputtered Colin, momentarily forgetting that your father had walked in on the two of you kissing a mere ten seconds ago. “I could do that? You would let me marry her?”

Your father laughed. “Even after that," he said, gesturing in Colin's general direction, "it would still be an honor to have you join our family.”

As you watched him walk away, Colin squeezed your hand, laughing gleefully. “Did you hear that? I get to marry you!”

“Were you not planning on marrying me after kissing me?” you scolded, tone only half accusatory.

“No, I mean– Well, I was just–” he rushed out, eyes searching yours frantically.

“It’s alright,” you laughed. “I was only joking.”

Colin let out a sigh of relief, kissing you firmly on the lips. “You never cease to vex me, woman.”

“Isn’t that what you like most about me?” you teased, biting down on his lip softly.

He groaned, unable to contain his desire for you. “We’d better get married tomorrow if you’re going to keep doing that.”

Then, separating himself from you slightly, Colin turned serious again. “You do want to marry me, don’t you? I know I obviously do, and your father said I have his permission, but do you want to?”

You bit your lip, full of affection for the boy who stole your heart. Even after kissing him and telling him you loved him, he still wanted to ensure that you wanted to marry him.

“I think we’d make a good pair, don’t you?” you said, nodding at him.

“I’ve thought that since the moment I saw you.”

“Well, we got there in the end didn’t we?”

“And I’d do it all again just to be able to marry you,” Colin assured you, kissing you on the nose.

—

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