Chapter Text
I.
Kate's running, brows furrowed in concentration as she searches for the best hiding spot.
Colin, predictably, had already turned to the direction of the kitchens to disappear. Meanwhile, Benedict had grabbed young Daphne's wrist and tugged her towards the shed where the Bridgerton family stored their Pall Mall set.
Typical.
Anthony, who really is the fastest seeker of their little group, would find the three without breaking a sweat.
But Kate is up for the challenge. Ready to make him really search for her.
She wants his normally carefree face to frown, lines set deep in his face as he wanders from location to location. The corners of her mouth tick upwards imagining his frustration when he can't find her.
She races past the gardens and meets the tall, stiff grass and wildflowers of the meadow behind Aubrey Hall. Kate lifts her long dress to avoid tripping. Consequently, the flora scratches her bare ankles. The midday’s sun shines on her back and she is grateful for the gentle breeze that catches her hair, causing it to fly behind her.
Finally, she reaches her destination: the treehouse built by the Bridgerton patriarch, Edmund Bridgerton, himself.
Anthony would never think to find her here as the Bridgertons have yet to introduce Kate to the structure. It is perfect.
The climb is steep for an eight year old and she wonders if she should try it without adult supervision. Ultimately, she decides it is worth the risk after remembering their very first visit when Eloise, another Bridgerton child, and Colin poked their heads through the open slit to peer down at Kate's family.
As Kate climbs, the hem of her dress catches on a nail, tearing the ends of the garment.
Drat.
Mary, her stepmother, will be furious no doubt. A strong worded lecture will follow suit on the dangers of adventures and the price of dresses. Kate's only hope is that her half-sister, cheery little Edwina, will keep Mary preoccupied.
Besides, a torn hem is worth getting smug Anthony Bridgerton just a little bit frustrated.
Once she climbs inside the treehouse Kate can't help but gape in awe at the large area. She’s never been in one before and she hadn’t known what to expect.
Inside is a paradox - an organized chaotic mess. Little trinkets fill the area and small pillows pepper the floor. Yet, the disarray seems to follow a certain pattern. It seems like the perfect spot to rewind and relax.
All in all, it's a well used, well loved space. And all at once Kate decides she loves it.
She lays on the floor, her head cushioned by a purple pillow. Her eyes inspect Anthony's name that's etched onto the side of wood in jagged block letters. A smile curls onto her lips at his messy writing. Even a toddler could print better than that.
Kate rolls to the side and her fingers poke a doll that lays nearby. Birds chirp in the branches around her and she internally counts the minutes that pass. The tranquil atmosphere creates a relaxing lull and on the tenth minute of counting her eyelids begin to droop. Giving into the feeling, she allows her eyes to shut - just momentarily.
It feels as if only a few seconds have gone by when a faint rustling noise sounds underneath the boards. Before she can even open her eyes a warm touch coils around her ankle and she lets out a loud yelp.
Anthony laughs at her exclamation of surprise. The glint remains in his eyes, even as his laughter subsides into a grin.
"Found you, Kate."
Her lower lip juts out in dissatisfaction. "Took you longer than last time though."
She had counted. It had taken four minutes then.
"Doesn't matter," he says, unfazed. "Still found you."
It's not a huge surprise. He is three years her senior and at the age of eleven Anthony Bridgerton knows his estate well.
"Did you already find everyone else?"
She hopes so. She doesn't want to be the next seeker. He opens his mouth to reply when a voice from below bellows.
"Anthony, is she there? I'm hungry!"
Unmistakably Colin, and her question is already answered.
"She is. We're coming," Anthony shouts down.
As they make their descent, Kate catches Anthony's eyes. "Next time I'll hide so well you won't be able to find me for a whole half hour."
Anthony grins easily, "You can try Kate but I'll always find you."
II.
She stands back to back with Anthony. His shoulders press into hers and Kate resists the urge to stretch onto the tips of her toes.
Instead, she locks her chin close to her throat and elongates her figure the best she can.
“Kate’s taller,” Edwina smiles, showcasing a missing tooth in the front row.
Benedict, who is easily the tallest of the group, muffles a snicker beside her.
Kate’s only experienced ten years of summer and yet her height eclipses Anthony’s. Only by two inches but she will take it as a victory in their continuing competition.
“I win!” Kate shouts with glee.
Anthony shoots daggers at Kate before grumbling, “I’m still growing.”
“It’s okay, wee little Anthony. No need to get angry. Just call me over when you need to reach high shelves and I’ll gladly help you.”
His sullen demeanour only gets worse causing Kate to chortle.
“It’s okay to be jealous, Anthony.”
“I’m not jealous,” he snaps. “You just lack a lot of manners that a proper lady in society should have. Propriety, respect and manners and the like. Especially towards your elders.”
The comment should make Kate ashamed because he is technically right. Yet, it only works to do the opposite. Elated, Kate grins.
Besides, they are the Bridgertons and Sheffields. They've known each other for ages and still Anthony is the only one to ever point out her behaviour. And only when he's losing an argument or a game.
“Somerset isn’t even fun. I think I’d like to return home,” he broods.
It is a lie though and they all know it. Anthony is merely a sore loser.
"Oh, don't be a spoil sport," Benedict chimes. "You always enjoy it here."
Edwina nods seriously in agreement.
But it hadn't needed to be said.
When Anthony and Kate race each other hours later, trying to see who gets to the Sheffield’s apple tree first, both grinning from ear to ear, Kate knows the truth.
III.
When Kate is twelve, the Sheffields are invited to the Bridgertons' estate in London rather than their ancestral seat in Kent.
She's excited. Her adventurous spirit lifts, happy to finally explore the city that the community in Somerset is always raving about.
The buildings are supposed to be grander and more numerous, leaving less stretches of land. Apparently, it's less green in the city. The roads aren't dirt like she's accustomed to but wooden or cobbled. And farm animals don't loiter in the area, just mindlessly roaming about.
Kate is eager to see it all.
It is dark when they leave and even darker when they arrive at their destination.
Pleasantries are exchanged at Bridgerton House. Refreshing drinks and small foods greet the Sheffields after their journey. Kate's thankful for it and takes a long sip of the lemonade to quench her thirst.
Before long they all head to bed to rest and recover.
The next day Kate is ready for new city experiences.
Following breakfast, they go on a tour of the estate. Eyes wide, Kate soaks it all in.
After lunch, it does not take long for the group to split. The adults congregate while the children band together to play games.
Anthony, aged five and ten, firmly states that he is no longer interested in silly, childish games but nevertheless announces he will supervise while the parents are busy. Kate smirks, knowing it's only a matter of time before Anthony's competitive spirit and curiosity piques.
She is not wrong.
He joins during the second round of marbles, hitting a bunch so accurately that he puffs his chest in pride when they scatter.
Kate ensures she wins the third round and Edwina cheers her on from beside her. Daphne lets out a victorious whoop here and there though in the long run she isn't the leader.
The games that start off as marbles turn to cards, before becoming hide and seek.
Kate can't hold her excitement. It's a whole new experience as the city estate offers a wide variety of nooks and crannies to explore.
"Anthony, you're seeker," Daphne commands.
Said brother shrugs and packs the cards away and Kate's eyes scans the area to find a suitable spot.
Apparently Eloise knows where to hide and grabs Edwina. Together, they dash off with excited giggles.
"Only on the estate!" Anthony yells after them. "And steer clear of the bedchambers!"
When he covers his eyes and begins to count, Kate notices Benedict slink out of the house and in the direction of what she thinks is the stables. Colin and Daphne have already disappeared and so Kate bolts outdoors.
Her eyes survey the area, looking for a suitable spot. Behind the large tree is idiotic and is asking to be found in mere seconds. The garden isn't much better. She imagines Anthony's smirk finding her in record time and wrinkles her nose. That wouldn't do at all.
So when she finds a green trunk resting behind a large carriage, she grins. It is the perfect spot.
Kate rushes to hoist the lid and crouch down into the trunk before shutting the lid. This may be a new personal best for her, and she hopes it’s many, many minutes before Anthony finds her.
In the darkness Kate twiddles her thumb as the minutes pass. She rests against what she thinks are garments. A twinge of guilt hits her at the thought of ruining Viscountess Bridgerton's gowns. Violet’s been like another mother to her and it would never be her intention to destroy her clothes.
She should get out of the trunk.
But, just as Kate's about to remove the lid and alert the household staff of the ruined clothing, the trunk jostles.
She lets out a breath assuming Anthony's face will appear once the lid is lifted. Kate waits and waits, except he doesn't open it. Nobody does.
There's a loud sound and all of a sudden she’s in motion.
Fear laces through her body and Kate moves up to push against the top of the trunk when she topples to the right, head smacking against the solid casing.
The steady hollow thudding of movement continues as Kate clutches her head. She tries to ignore the ringing noise in her ears but it’s just so loud. The pounding in her head won't cease and the sudden urge to cry hounds Kate.
She needs to get out.
Kate pounds on the trunk, yelling and screaming but not once does the carriage stop. She calls for Mary, Papa, Edwina, and even Anthony but nobody comes to her rescue. She clutches her head and bites her lip to prevent from crying.
When the carriage finally comes to a halt she shudders a breath and tries to push away the fear she's feeling. With her pounding headache and ringing ears she can't tell how long she's been there. Desperately, Kate hopes she’s still somewhat close to Bridgerton House.
Muffled noises sound from outside but Kate cannot make out any words. She prays someone who can help her is out there. Someone who can get her back home safely.
Afraid that the carriage might jostle her at any moment, Kate slowly rises. When it remains motionless she tries lifting the lid. It doesn't budge on her first attempt and so on her second try she uses more force.
The latch clicks and she opens free, revealing a bustling street.
She’s astounded by what she sees.The men and women here don't wear the high quality fabrics that the Bridgertons wear. Their clothes aren’t neatly pressed or free of stains like her own.
In fact, some casually wear soot and coal covered clothes, uncaring that their garments are dirty. Their hats are disorderly and there’s an odd smell to the street.
A woman stands on the edge of the street near a street lamp, the cut of her neckline so low that more than half her breasts spill out. She gives a man a sultry smile and runs her fingers down his chest before trailing even lower.
Kate stifles a gasp at the improper action and turns, feeling like she is watching something private. Anthony would likely keel over if he saw it. She feels so out of place and scared. More than ever, she wants to go home, or to Bridgerton House - she just wants to leave. Her anxiety mounts as she climbs out of the trunk.
The driver of the carriage is nowhere to be seen.
Kate’s heart pounds rapidly in her chest and she swivels her head in each direction but comes up short on finding a helpful or kind face. Her head pounds faster and she digs her fingernails into her palm in fear.
Idiotically, in her state of fright she cannot find the commands to make her feet move.
A man with leering eyes breaks away from a small group and moves towards Kate where she stands on the side of the road. All she can do at that moment is stand and watch him with wide eyes. He smiles at her, revealing a set of stained, chipped teeth.
"I think we've got ourselves a lost little lady, lads." The man's eyes rove over Kate.
The fine hairs on the back of her neck prick at the action. She shudders in fear and manages to take a small step back.
"No need to be afraid, luv," he says, taking a step towards Kate. "We can help ya get home."
Panic strikes Kate and when the man moves, looming over her small frame and groping the side of her bottom, she screams.
Finally finding the ability to move, Kate shoves the man with all her force. The unexpected motion sends him staggering backwards, knocking over a cart that's being pushed behind him.
Kate sprints as fast as she can. She can hear a group of men chasing after her but she doesn't look back.
Rather, she pretends she's back at Aubrey Hall, racing Edwina and the Bridgerton brood on Viscount Bridgerton's grassy hills. Imagines that she’s barefoot back in Somerset, laughing and racing against Anthony as the wind whips in her face and the dewy grass licks her feet.
The city and its awful, ugly landscapes transform in her mind. The grey roads become lush greens. The tall buildings turn to willowy trees. Large carriages become wagons and the strangers yells of “watch out” and “little runt” turn to “Stop cheating, Kate!” or “You’ll never beat me!”
She doesn't know where to go but she doesn’t stop running.
Her feet slap against the pavement and she shoves her way through the bodies on the street. The shouts of the men chasing her eventually recede but Kate still continues her race even through her fatigue.
She doesn't trust anyone here.
The only time she halts is when she notes a small alleyway filled with a pile of dirty rags. Without thought, she turns and hides behind the mess of ruined fabrics. They smell foul, like uncleaned chamber pots and pungent soiled food combined. Mice dash around her and it takes everything in Kate not to cry.
It's better here in the alleyway than the horrors outside, she reasons.
Laying her head on the brick behind her head, Kate tries to come up with a game plan but the pounding in her head and heart won't stop. She stays crouched in her spot even as the light blue sky swirls to pink and orange hues before darkening to a navy blue.
There's no food or water, and she still doesn't know how to get home. Her stomach rumbles from hunger but she ignores it, not quite brave enough to step out of her hiding place in the alleyway.
Kate sends a prayer to God, to her mother above, to anyone listening, but nobody comes looking for her. She wonders what they're doing back at Bridgerton House. If they've even realised she's missing.
A whimper slips free at the thought of never seeing her family again. Of never holding Edwina in her arms, or Mary brushing her hair or her father kissing her forehead. She aches at never being back with the Bridgerton clan.
The thought of being stuck in this foul place destroys her.
She hates the city with her whole heart. If she could, she would leave and never return.
Kate alternates between wringing her fingers in anxiety and then sitting on them in frustration.
Her lower lip quivers and she buries her head in her hands. She imagines being back at Bridgerton House, hiding beside Edwina or sneaking behind Benedict. She imagines holding her breath behind her hand while Anthony calls out -
"Kate!"
Her heart stops beating. For a split second she had imagined Anthony's voice calling to her so vividly that she'd heard it in reality.
But then - she hears it again.
"Kate!" More frantic and desperate than she’s ever heard it before.
"Please, Kate, answer me! Are you here? Kate!"
"Anthony!" Kate screams.
She hastily gets up, pushing the pile in front of her as fast as she can while continuing to scream his name.
He rounds the alley, a lantern in his hand as she finally tugs free from the last dirty article of clothing. His coat is askew and his boots are muddy, but he has never looked better to her.
They sprint to each other faster than they’d ever raced each other, and Kate barrels into his chest. Never had she ever felt so utterly pleased that Anthony had found her.
She grips his coat tightly in her hands. Finally, both the stress and relief erupt, uncoiling from where they’d been tightly wound up. Kate sobs into Anthony's neck, comforted by the strength and scent of him.
Anthony, who doesn’t seem to even notice the rancid smell on Kate, soothes her back with his hand as she heaves against him.
"I thought I would be lost forever. That nobody was coming," she hiccups against his neck.
"I'll always find you, Kate," he promises in response.
IV.
She’s four and ten when Anthony hits a sudden growth spurt.
He’s seventeen and towers over her at his current height, and she’s more irritated than ever that he’s managed to outgrow her.
Anthony walks to her, resting his hand on her head. “Look at that pip, guess I win now.”
Irritated, Kate pushes his hand away and fusses with her hair that was just braided and tied into a fashionable French twist by the Bridgerton staff. She's never had such a braid before and is proud to wear it now.
“You’re a giant now and that’s not a good thing. You’re basically a creature.”
“Don’t be jealous,” He laughs smugly, tugging on her ribbon.
Her hair releases from its tight braid and sags into loose curls. In an effort to save her braid, Kate reaches for the ribbon that Anthony holds up high above his head.
Kate scowls. "Jealous of not being a human?"
She steps onto his feet and lifts onto her toes, arms stretching towards the pink material in Anthony's fingers.
"Agh, you menace," he grunts as he moves his hands out of her grasp.
His limbs have a wider reach than hers and her lips twist in dissatisfaction.
“Do you not have something better to do than vex me?”
“Not a chance.”
V.
As per normal, she spends her fifteenth summer with the Bridgertons.
She sits in Francesca Bridgerton’s room with the little girl presenting her dolls in order.
“This one’s Daphne,” Francesca says, holding up a lovely porcelain doll with dark hair.
Daphne smiles in approval at her sister, fiddling with the doll’s purple dress and ribbons.
“And this one?” Kate asks as she points to a doll in a yellow dress.
“Eloise.”
Kate can’t see the resemblance. The doll is blonde with grey eyes, but she appeases the girl with a nod.
“Which one is your absolute favourite?”
Francesca’s eyes light up and she runs to her bed. She flings the covers and picks up a horrid looking rag doll. The stitches are awkward and the limbs are not proportionate. The worst part must be the large circular black patches that are used for the eyes. Or maybe it’s the mouth that appears to be stitched closed together.
The doll is one of the scariest things Kate’s seen.
“This?” Kate asks, trying to keep the disgust out of her voice.
Francesca nods happily. “She’s my favourite - the best one of them all.”
Kate holds back a grimace when Francesca shoves the hideous cloth doll into her face. How in the world could Francesca call this atrocity her favourite? It would be the type of doll she’d allow a pet to chew on.
The young girl hugs the horrible thing tight to her chest, “Anthony made me Dollie and she’s perfect.”
“Anthony?”
Daphne answers from beside her.
“He tried to make it into a competition amongst us to see who could make a better doll for Fran. Benedict and Colin didn’t bother trying to sew and Eloise didn’t care for it so it was just between him and I. The poor fool didn’t even know what he was doing and yet Fran picked his over mine.”
“Yours was ugly!” Francesca cries.
Kate tries to imagine Anthony picking up a needle and thread. Him sitting down and sewing. It’s so absurd - the future viscount sewing. For all his talks about following societal codes and rules, here he was making a rag doll.
Then she looks at Francesca who carefully tucks the doll back into her bed. Anthony had created the thing for his sister, which she can admit is quite special.
It’s a sweet thought - even if the doll itself isn’t.
Clearly, Francesca adores the hideous thing and that’s all that matters.
When Kate finds Anthony in the library later in the day she can’t help but tease him.
“Saw the doll you made Francesca.”
Anthony looks up from his novel without a hint of shame. “Here to ask you how you can make one for Eddie?”
Kate rolls her eyes. “Perhaps if I believed she wasn’t having enough nightmares.”
Glaring at her, Anthony shuts his book and leans back. The motion gives Kate a clear view of his chest that seems to also have expanded with his mysterious growth spurt.
“Fran doesn’t have any more nightmares since I made her Dollie.”
Kate leans onto the table before hopping onto it, her skirts rustling.
“That, my dear friend, is because Dollie is the nightmare. But I suppose it is a rather loving gesture. You must be the kindest, sweetest young man in the whole country.”
Anthony pulls away his book.
“I am not sweet! I am rugged and dangerous and you cannot just come in here - unchaperoned - and casually begin an argument while we're alone.”
“You? Rugged? Dangerous? Am I supposed to believe that?”
She remembers the boy who searched the streets of London, screaming her name in fear. As if that boy could grow into a dangerous man.
“Well, yes. I have a reputation of being a devilishly handsome man. Some ladies call me a right rogue. Do you know what men like that are capable of doing?”
“Sewing dolls for their baby sister instead of letting a nursemaid do it?”
Anthony’s skin tinges pink.
He lifts his chin and clears his throat. “Have you ever assumed that perhaps I have seduced women - older than yourself - to share a passionate kiss with me? That they find me charming?”
Kate snickers, “Charming? You’ve just turned eighteen. Almost still a child. The only kiss you’re getting is a motherly one from Violet and all the society mamas.”
“You are the most irritating, biggest nuisance of a -”
“Race you to the lake!” Kate interrupts quickly. “Loser must use the pink mallet in Pall Mall!”
She jumps off the sturdy desk and dashes through the halls, swerving around the bodies there.
“That’s unfair! Cheater!” Anthony calls from behind her but the cadence of his footsteps registers behind her.
When Kate’s father dies that autumn, a part of Kate dies with him. There’s an odd sort of detachment that follows.
She’ll never be whole again, she thinks. None of them will be.
Edwina constantly cries and nothing can soothe her. Meanwhile, Mary hovers and coddles to an extent that makes Kate want to tear her hair out.
Yet, it is the only time she feels anything. So she allows it.
Unlike her family, Kate is numb and silent in her grief.
On the day her father is laid to rest she stands and watches, feeling nothing but emptiness as Edwina wails beside her. Nothing registers, not the gentle breeze nor the light drizzle that falls from the sky.
Nothing matters.
Afterwards, the majority of the mourners scatter. Disappearing back to their homes as the Sheffields linger by the family plot. The only ones to remain with them are the loyal Bridgertons.
It is only with Violet and Edmund's encouragement and insistence that the Sheffields head back home.
Kate barely recalls any of it.
Her feet move on their own accord, one foot forward then the other following. Her muscles move in a memorised pattern even though it feels as though a cord tries to pull her back to her father's headstone.
Their family home is small and seems extremely stifling and crowded, even though the absence of her father leaves an uncomfortable empty space.
There is nowhere for Kate to hide, nowhere to run and grieve in silence. Instead, all she gets are pitying glances.
At night, once everyone has head to bed, she walks out of the home and to the apple tree on their property. One of her earliest memories was picking apples there with her father.
She hopes she can feel his presence there.
The crickets accompany her during the lonely night. They sing a mournful song for her father while she settles by the trunk of the tree. Kate runs her fingers across the bumpy brown ridges, remembering the way her father first did years ago.
She curls up and decides to spend the night here. With Papa watching over her. He will protect her.
She's not sure how long she's out there in the crisp, dark night. But it's not too long before Anthony appears in front of her. He's wrapped in a heavy blanket but doesn't look particularly tired.
"Katie, come back in. It's cold."
She shakes her head. She will stay here with Papa.
"You'll freeze out here."
The cold numbness is the only thing she can relate to.
"Katie …"
When Kate still doesn't respond Anthony plops himself beside her. An exposed root of the tree lies by his thigh.
He wraps an arm around her, gently as if dealing with an injured animal.
"I'm sorry, Katie. This is such a terrible thing to happen and your father didn't deserve this. You don't deserve this. But I'm with you every step of the way. We all are."
She says nothing, opting to rest her head on his shoulder instead. Huddling into his warmth, Kate sniffles into the darkness. She likes that he doesn’t offer any more words. That he’s just present with her.
Finally Kate whispers with slight awe, "How do you always find me?"
The words are uttered so quietly that even she knows there’s a high probability that he hasn’t heard it. Anthony drapes a part of the blanket over Kate, seemingly unaware that she’d spoken. A long moment of comfortable silence stretches between the two.
Before long, Kate finds the fatigue of the emotional toll from the past fews days finally catching up on her. Maybe she should rest here, just for two minutes. The only two minutes of peace she can find.
Right then, Anthony speaks low and soft - even quieter than she had. Almost as if he was speaking to himself.
"I just do Kate - I’ll always find you."