C H A P T E R  E L E V E N
GULITY AS SINS
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The fastest courtship upon record occurred during the markedly wet season of 1804, when Miss Mary Leopold secured a betrothal over a plate of sugared almonds and licorice in just four and a half minutes. Of course, Miss Leopold and her new husband would leave London mere hours after their wedding. Reason unknown. Of all that I have imparted to you, dear reader, there is but one bit of wisdom you must heed most. One can never know the truth of a marriage hiding behind closed doors. Beware indeed, blushing newlyweds. You know not the future that awaits.Will there be hardship...or indignity? Or will one's future see the rarest accomplishment of all, a true love match? As for which of these fates await the eager matches of the season of 1813, only two things will tell... Time, and, as always, this author.

Lady Whistledown

1813

The clock had struck midnight long ago, yet Emmaline Davison and Anthony Bridgerton found themselves still awake, lying on the soft carpet of Emmaline's bedroom floor, side by side, still engaged in deep conversation. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room, illuminating the shadows that danced across the walls.

Emmaline shifted slightly, her fingers tracing patterns absentmindedly on the floor beside her. Anthony watched her, his gaze soft and contemplative. He had always admired the way she looked in the soft light, her features bathed in a gentle glow that seemed to accentuate her beauty. He glanced at the time, "It's getting late, Em'' he whispered, "I should start heading back home." .

Finally, Anthony stood up from the floor, with a reluctant sigh. He made his way towards the window, his movements slow and deliberate. Emmaline's heart skipped a beat as she watched him, knowing that he was about to leave. She couldn't bear the thought of being alone right now.

But before he could reach the latch, with a quiet yet earnest voice, she reached out and took a hold of his hand, whispering, "Stay."

"You know I can't, Emma," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret as he glanced back at her.

She looked at him with pleading eyes, her voice trembling. "Please, Anthony. Just this once."

He hesitated, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. Emmaline rarely asked him to spend the night with her, and he couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this. He noted the slight tremble in her voice, a sign of vulnerability that was unlike her usual confident demeanor.

"Why?" he asked gently, his concern growing as he studied her face. "Why do you want me to stay?"

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands folded in her lap as she struggled to find the words. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words, until Anthony spoke again, his voice soft but insistent.

"You have to talk to me, Em," he urged. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." He waited patiently, knowing that she would speak when she was ready.

For a moment, Emmaline remained silent, her eyes darting away from his intense scrutiny. But then, with a deep breath, she spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm scared, Anthony," she admitted, her words barely audible in the quiet room.

"Scared?" Anthony repeated, his heart sinking at the vulnerability in her voice. "Of what Em?"he asked gently, urging her to continue.

"I'm scared to fall asleep and wake up to find you are not here." she confessed, her eyes brimming with tears. She was trying desperately not to cry, but the emotions overwhelmed her, and she began to tremble.

His heart clenched at the sight of her trembling form, he couldn't bear to see her so frightened.

"Every time I close my eyes, all I can see... I see is..."

"Emma, what do you see?" he asked softly, his heart aching at the pain in her eyes as he reached out, tenderly wiping away her tears that trailed down her cheek.

"You," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Anthony all I see you shot to the ground, I'm trying to stop the bleeding but nothing is working. Your blood is on my hands and I just see your life slipping away and I... I can't..."

Without hesitation he quickly kneeled down and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she quietly began to sob. He couldn't bear to see her so frightened. The sight of her genuine fear left him bewildered.

"Shh," he murmured, his voice gentle as he stroked her hair. "It's alright, Emma. I'm here."

She buried her face against his chest, her tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. For a moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, the only sound the quiet rhythm of their breathing.

Finally, Emmaline lifted her head, her eyes meeting Anthony's with a mixture of fear and longing. "Ever since your duel with Simon," she sighs, shaking her head as she looks down at her hands not meeting his eyes as she continues, "I've been terrified. I didn't know if you would come back alive or..." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging heavy in the air. "You scared me so much, Anthony. I thought I was going to lose you. I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

His heart clenched at the raw anguish in Emmaline's voice. He had never realized how deeply the duel had affected her, how it had haunted her every waking moment. "Oh, Emmaline," he murmured, gathering her into his arms and holding her close. "I had no idea... Why didn't you tell me?"

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "I didn't want to burden you with my problems,"

He shook his head, his expression firm. "You could never be a burden to me, Em, you know that you can always talk to me."

A small, watery smile tugged at Emmaline's lips as she looked up at him. "I know," she whispered. "But still... I didn't want you to worry."

Anthony's gaze softened, a wave of tenderness washing over him as he pulled her into his arms. "You foolish girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I will always worry about you. I care about you more than you know."

She sighed, her body relaxing against his as she buried her face in his chest. "Can you please spend the night with me?" she asked softly. "Knowing that you're actually here, alive and well, would put my mind at ease."

His heart swelled with emotion as he gazed down at her. How could he say no to her, when she looked at him with such raw vulnerability? "Alright," he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I'll stay."

Emmaline's relief was palpable as she hugged him tighter, her body finally relaxing in his embrace.They stayed like that for a moment, the only sound in the room was the quiet rhythm of their breathing.

"Thank you," she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

Together, they made their way to Emmaline's bed, crawling beneath the covers and settling in against each other. Emmaline looked up at Anthony, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Is it okay if I...?" she trailed off, gesturing towards his chest.

A small, tender smile graced Anthony's lips as he whispered. "Of course," he replied. "Come here."

Emmaline shifted closer and nestled her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. With each beat, her body relaxed, and her mind found the peace it had longed for. Not only did she feel comfort knowing that Anthony was by her side but for the first time in weeks, she felt truly safe.

Anthony, not wanting to let her go, wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer. As they lay there together, they both found solace in each other's presence, they slowly drifted off to sleep.

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The first light of dawn painted the room through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow across the room where Anthony laid, tangled in the ivory sheets beside Emmaline. As he stirred from his sleep, his gaze fell upon her delicate features, softened in sleep. She lay curled up beside him, her chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath, her lashes brushing against her cheeks.

He couldn't help but admire her beauty in the gentle light of dawn kissed her face. The way the sunlight kissed her face, illuminating her in a soft golden hue as her hair cascaded in soft waves over the pillow, the curve of her lips, the graceful line of her neck—it all captivated him, as it had from the moment he first laid eyes on her. With a gentle small smile, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss atop of her brown locks, wanting to savor the moment a little while longer as he watched her sleep peacefully. He felt a surge of affection welling up within him, overwhelming in its intensity. How had he become so entranced by this woman, he wondered, so utterly consumed by her presence? But as much as he longed to stay, to bask in the warmth of her embrace, Anthony knew he couldn't that much longer. With a gentle nudge, he whispered her name, rousing her from her sleep.

"Emma," he whispered softly, his voice barely above a murmur as he brushed his fingers against Emmaline's cheek.

Emmaline stirred at his touch, her lashes fluttering as she slowly raised her head from his chest. Her eyes blinked open, taking a moment to adjust to the soft light filtering through the curtains. She looked around the room, confusion clouding her features before her gaze settled on Anthony's.

"You're still here," she breathed, surprise evident in her voice as she met his gaze.

"Of course," Anthony replied softly, his gaze never leaving her. "I wasn't going to leave until you woke up." His fingers tracing gentle circles against her skin

A soft blush tinted Emmaline's cheeks as she averted her gaze, a hint of uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "I thought you would've left," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And leave you to wake up alone? I couldn't bear it," he vowed, his voice filled with sincerity.

Her lips curved into a small smile at his words, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she met his gaze. Their eyes locked for a moment.

As if drawn by an invisible force, their gazes flickered to each other's lips, the tension between them palpable. Emmaline could feel the heat radiating from Anthony's proximity, sending shivers down her spine as her pulse quickened.

And Anthony couldn't tear his gaze away from her, his desire threatening to consume him as he leaned closer, his breath mingling with hers. Just as they leaned in, their lips mere inches apart, a voice shattered the moment.

As they leaned in closer, their intentions clear, a sudden interruption shattered the moment.

"Miss Emmaline are you awake?" Mary's voice echoed through the room, causing both of them to startle..

"Is that your maid?" He said in a hushed whisper.

Her eyes widened as her heart started racing. "Quick, you need to leave!" she whispered, panic edging her voice and her heart pounding in her chest.

He nodded, as they both scrambled out of bed. With swift movements, he grabbed his shoes and tailcoat from the floor just as Emmaline threw his waistcoat into his arms as he quickly put them on. But as he was about to slip out the window, Emmaline stopped him, her voice trembling slightly.

"What are you doing! You're not leaving through the balcony window are you?!" she hissed, her eyes filled with panic

"Well I can't go through the front doors unless you want us to get caught! I can sneak my way out through here." he hissed, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Are you crazy, people might see you!" She explained.

Anthony frowned, his mind racing for an alternative escape route. "Where do I even hi--"

With no time to spare, she cuts him off by pushing him into her closet and slamming the door praying that Mary wouldn't notice anything amiss. She turned her back against the wooden door just as Mary Entered the room bearing breakfast.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Mary asked, her brow furrowed with concern as she surveyed the room.

Emmaline forced a smile, her heart still racing in her chest. "Yes, everything's fine," she replied, her voice a little too high-pitched for her liking

"What's all that noise?" Mary's voice drifted through the room, sending a jolt of fear through Emmaline.

"What noise? I didn't hear any noise" She lied.

"My Lady, don't you lie to me. I heard an amount of ruckus coming from your room"

"I must hit my leg against the bloody bed frame." She chuckles nervously.

Mary cast a scrutinizing glance around the room, her eyes lingering on Emmaline's disheveled appearance. She looked around the room to see if anything was amiss.

Emmaline's eyes widened in panic as she watched Mary approach the closet, her heart hammering in her chest as she prayed for Anthony to remain hidden. But her eyes wandered to her desk where she saw Anthony's pocket watch. Her eyes widened more in fear.

How can he forget that? And why would he leave it out for Mary to see? I swear to god I'm going to murder him!

Mary's eyes lingered on her desk, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Mary I can ex–"

"My lady, you need to stop scattering your poems across the floor. What would happen if your father found them my dear." She frowned as she bent down to pick them up, placing them neatly on Emmaline's desk unaware that Lord Bridgerton pocket watch was right there and continued to tidy up the room.

"There you go all better." She nodded and went about her duties, setting the breakfast tray on the table by her bedside. "I brought you breakfast, dear," Mary smiled, her suspicions momentarily forgotten

Emmaline forced a smile, her heart still racing as she accepted the tray from Mary's outstretched hands. "Thank you, Mary," she replied

"Do you need anything else deary"

"No, that will be all."

"Okay, I'm going to start on your bath then. I'll come by and get you when it's ready"

She nodded in a sigh of relief, her heart still racing as Mary left the room. She waited until the door was securely closed behind her before releasing the breath she'd been holding. She leaned her back against the closet door letting out another breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

That was close.

As she walked away from the closet, Anthony emerged from it. He couldn't help but laugh as he watched Emmaline still panicking.

She turned around and saw the amused look on his face, "That wasn't funny," she scolded him, though there was a hint of laughter in her voice.

"It kinda was," He chuckled, his laughter filling the room as he met her gaze. "We wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you," he admitted as he reached out to pull her into his arms.

"Me? Why is that" She furrowed her eyebrow in confusion

"You were the one who asked me to stay the night"

"And you are the one that agreed, so technically it's your fault? You could've said no in the first place" She explained. "Now you need to le–"

"Or I can join you, it's not like I haven't seen anything before." He said jokingly with a teasing smile.

"Huh cheeky aren't you? " Emmaline rolled her eyes playfully, swatting at his chest, a smile tugging at her lips

"Hmm I didn't hear a no?" He teased her.

"You are a complete menace!"

"So..."

"No! Now go you idiot," she laughed as she pushed him towards the window. "Before someone else sees you."

Anthony laughed, his heart lighter than it had been in ages. As he made his way towards the window, he paused, turning back to look at her with a smile. With a final glance at Emmaline, he slipped out of her room.

She watched him go, ignoring the flutter of anticipation stirring within her. She shook her head just as Mary had come back to get her.

Mary noticed the grand difference in Emmaline appearance, "What got you all smiling this morning my lady." She asked.

She turned around to face Mary and simply smiled, "It's nothing."

It definitely does not involve a certain viscount that had her feeling this type of way.

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"Brother," Hyacinth spoke, pausing her game to glance up at Anthony. Her blue eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint. "Might I be able to join in on the fun this summer at Aubrey Hall?" she asked excitedly.

Anthony, however, didn't seem to hear her. His eyes had caught the familiar opera singer's name in the paper, and his thoughts wandered far from the lively room.

"Brother?"

Anthony remained silent, his attention still fixed on the page in front of him, though his thoughts were already drifting away from the room.

Hyacinth, not one to be ignored, called out again, more forcefully this time. "Brother!"

Finally, Anthony lowered his newspaper slightly, glancing over the top to meet his youngest sister's gaze. "Provided you stay clear of my lucky mallet, I think it is a fine idea." he smiled.

She beamed at her brother, her face lighting up like the sun.

"You cannot be in earnest," Gregory turned around to face his older brother.

"She'll outplay us all soon enough," Benedict added with a smirk, not lifting his gaze from his sketch as his pencil moved fluidly over the paper.

Hyacinth, undeterred, flicked one of the cards at him. "You'll see. This summer, I shall be unbeatable!" She grinned triumphantly, already envisioning herself outwitting her brothers on the grassy lawns of Aubrey Hall. "I shall begin practicing straightaway!"

With that, she immediately abandoned her cards as she leapt out of her seat, her skirts swishing around her ankles as she practically skipped across the room, heading straight for the tray of pastries that had been laid out for afternoon tea.

"Aunt Winnie has sent word!"

Their mother Violet Bridgerton announced as she walked into the drawing room as she held the letter in her hand.

At her words, everyone turned their attention toward their mother. Even Anthony, who had been silently contemplating the contents of the newspaper, looked up with interest.

"Francesca will be arriving home tomorrow," Violet added, smiling fondly.

"How exciting!" Hyacinth cheered.

"Perhaps she can tell us of time well spent far from London," Colin said.

"Fran has missed so much," Gregory stated, turning to his mother.

Violet glanced down at the letter again, her eyes scanning the lines before lifting her gaze back to her youngest son."Indeed," she agreed. "It certainly has been an eventful season, what of Daphne and the duke, and then Anthony and-"

Anthony looked up to glare at Violet, his expression hardening slightly preventing her from speaking a word of Siena, and Violet immediately closed her mouth. He knew what she had been about to say—what she was carefully avoiding saying.

"Yes, well, nevermind," Violet said dismissively as she quickly folded the letter and tucked it away as if to close the subject altogether.

Anthony gave her a knowing look, his jaw tightening as he set the newspaper down on the side table. Without a word, he rose from his chair and reached for his black tailcoat. "I'm heading out," he said, avoiding his mother's gaze.

Violet arched a brow, her maternal instincts honing in. "And where are you off to?"

"I'm meeting with someone," Anthony replied, his tone casual, though it was a half-truth.

Violet narrowed her eyes, not fooled by his vague response. "And who might that be?"

"A friend," Anthony said shortly, not stopping as he headed out of the drawing room.

"A friend?" Violet's voice carried that particular maternal edge that only a mother could muster when digging for details. "Surely, your family can know the name of such a close acquaintance?"

Anthony exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "Mother, must you interrogate me so thoroughly at every turn?"

"Anthony—" Violet began, but before she could press him further, Anthony nodded curtly and made a quick exit from the drawing room, the sound of the front door closing behind him. "That boy..." she sighs.

Eloise raised an eyebrow at Benedict, who was now shading a particularly intricate section of his sketch. "Do you think it's her?"

Benedict didn't look up but smiled to himself. "I wouldn't dare assume."

Gregory, having won the card game while everyone was distracted, grinned mischievously. "I think we all know exactly who he's off to see."

Hyacinth, still delighting in her imagined croquet victory, skipped back to her chair, pastry in hand. "Whoever it is, I hope she's a good sport. She'll need to be able to handle our family."

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Emmaline hurried down the grand staircase of Davison House, her footsteps light but swift, her long brown hair trailing behind her. She darted toward the dining room, the scent of freshly baked bread and warm pastries filling the air. Without hesitation, she reached for a chocolate croissant, stuffing the end into her mouth as she packed some fruit tarts to take, wrapping them in a light pink cloth.

Just as she turned to leave, she nearly collided with her older brother, Cornelius, who was seated at the table with a cup of tea in hand, eyeing her with amusement.

"Why are you in such a rush this morning, Em?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. His tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity and mild suspicion in his gaze.

"I'm late meeting a friend." She said as she tucked the other croissant into a napkin.

He raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

Before she could answer, their mother, Eleanor, who had been sitting at the head of the table, turned her attention toward her daughter. "Who are you meeting with, Emmaline?"

Emmaline felt a flicker of panic but masked it with a casual smile. "Eloise," she lied smoothly, avoiding eye contact as she focused on adjusting her bonnet. "We're going to the park for a walk."

Eleanor tilted her head, clearly suspicious. "By yourself?" she asked, her sharp gaze scrutinizing Emmaline.

She merely nodded, barely acknowledging her mother's growing concern as she took a step toward the door. "Yes, but Eloise's maid will be with us."

Eleanor's eyes narrowed. "You better not be planning to go out unchaperoned, Emmaline. Take one of the maids with you. You know the rules."

"I'll be fine, Mother," She replied, her tone light and dismissive as she stuffed the croissant into her mouth. She made a beeline for the door, the sweet pastry still in hand as she hastily chewed. The last thing she needed was a maid hovering over her, especially when she had plans of her own.

Her mother's voice hardened. "Emmaline, I won't take no for an answer. You will not go gallivanting around town alone. It's improper, and you know it."

"I said I'll be fine," she insisted, her voice muffled by the mouthful of pastry. Turning on her heel and making a quick exit before Eleanor could protest again."Bye!"

With that, she turned and dashed through the hall, her skirts billowing behind her as she pushed open the front door and disappeared outside. She felt a surge of exhilaration as the cool morning air hit her face.

Freedom...

at least for a few hours.

"Emmaline, wait!" her mother called after her, frustration lacing her voice. But it was too late. The brunette girl was already halfway down the gravel path, her quick strides carrying her far away from the house. Eleanor sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"That girl is going to be the death of me," she muttered under her breath.

Cornelius, still seated at the table, watched his mother with mild amusement. "She's headstrong," he offered, cutting into his breakfast.

She nodded. "She's growing more rebellious by the day. We need to hire a new maid to act as her chaperone next season," she mused. "Someone who can keep up with her and make sure she doesn't pull these stunts again. She'll only become more disobedient as her debut draws closer." She smoothed the fabric of her gown, the slight tremor in her fingers betraying her otherwise calm demeanor.

Cornelius nodded in agreement. "She's been more willful lately," he acknowledged. "I'll make sure to handle it. Don't worry, Mother, I'll find someone suitable. I'll start looking for a new maid before the new season begins"

Eleanor's eyes softened as she looked at her eldest son. "Thank you, Cornelius," she said quietly. "We cannot have her running wild. People will talk, and her reputation must remain intact. The season will be upon us before we know it, and her prospects depend on it."

He leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps she simply needs more freedom," he mused. "She's not like the other girls—she's restless, always dreaming of something beyond these walls."

She shook her head, her lips pursing. "Freedom is one thing, but defiance is another. She must understand the importance of appearances, of propriety. It's the only way she'll secure a good match."

Cornelius sighed, knowing better than to argue. "I'll speak to her later," he promised, though deep down, he knew keeping Emmaline in line would be no easy task. She had always been headstrong, determined to forge her own path, even if it meant defying every rule society placed before her.

As the conversation died down, Eleanor stared out of the window, watching the distant figure of her daughter disappear down the drive. The breeze stirred the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of spring blooms. A pang of worry settled deep in Eleanor's chest.

She loved her daughter fiercely, but Emmaline's defiance, her independence—it was a dangerous trait for a young woman in their world. Eleanor knew that more than anyone. The stakes were high, and Emmaline's future depended on making the right connections, on marrying well. But how could she protect her daughter when she insisted on running headlong into trouble?

"She'll learn," Eleanor said softly, more to herself than to Cornelius. "One way or another, she'll learn."

Cornelius, ever the dutiful son, simply nodded. But he couldn't help wondering if Emmaline would ever truly fit into the mold their mother expected of her.

Because if there was one thing he knew about his sister, it was that...

She was not the type to be tamed.

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As Emmaline slipped away, a small grin tugged at her lips.

No maids

No chaperones

Just freedom.

She hurried toward the lake, her feet carrying her along the familiar path she and Anthony had taken so many times before. The lake had somewhat become their secret place, just like the one they found near Aubrey Hall and Rosemoor Manor. As she approached closer, she spotted him lying casually on the grass, arms flooded behind his head, gazing up at the sky.

Anthony raised his head slightly when he heard her footsteps, a smirk already on his face. "You're late," he teased.

She rolled her eyes and flopped down beside him on the grass, propping herself up on her elbows. "Oh, forgive me, Your Lordship, for not adhering to your impeccable schedule," she quipped, making a face.

They both laughed, the sound echoing in the peaceful silence of the lakeside. As the laughter subsided, the two fell into easy conversation, catching up on everything and nothing. Lying on the soft grass, their shoulders nearly touching as they gazed up at the clear blue sky.

The sun filtered through the trees, casting playful patterns on their faces. The lake's gentle ripple was the only sound that broke the comfortable silence between them. It was peaceful, comfortable. They have been meeting here more often lately. This was where they could just be themselves, no masks, no facades.

It wasn't long before Emmaline remembered what she brought. She pushed herself up on her elbows, as she unpacked her purse, taking out the handkerchief that's wrapped around her treats. "I brought these," she said as she handed him one.

He chuckled, taking the tart. "Ah, peach tarts. They bring back memories."

She laughed, her eyes sparkling. "They sure do. Do you remember that ridiculous dare from when we were kids?"

He chuckled, turning to face her, his expression one of amused curiosity. "Which one? We had quite a few."

"The one where I had to kiss you?"

"Oh, that one! I remember you looking absolutely horrified."

"I did not!" She swatted his arm playfully.

"Oh really?"

"Yes I was just– I was determined that's all. "

Anthony laughed heartily, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh I know because you came back and kissed me anyway, all for a peach tart."

Emmaline snorted, covering her face with her hands for a moment before dropping them to her sides. "I had no idea what I was doing. It was so awkward."

"Awkward is an understatement Emma! You could've just said no to the dare Ben gave you but my god you were so stubborn." He laughed.

"To be fair, your cook makes them so much better than ours and later I did share the win with you. It was only fair." She laughed.

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. "Oh, come now. I think you fancied me a little. Just admit it—you had a crush on me."

She scoffed playfully "In your dreams, Bridgerton, I was doing it entirely for the peach tarts, I assure you."

They both burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the lake. The banter, the teasing—it was all so easy between them. As their laughter faded, they settled into a comfortable silence, lying side by side on the grass.

"It was my first kiss too."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I thought... well, I thought you might have kissed someone before."

Anthony shook his head. "Nope. You were my first."

Emmaline hummed before looking back at the sky. The sky seemed to stretch endlessly above them, and the peaceful atmosphere should have been enough to let her relax, but she found herself unable to shake a thought that had been nagging at her.

After a few moments, she turned on her side, propping herself up on one elbow, glancing down at Anthony, who seemed content lying on the grass, eyes closed. "How many women have you kissed, Anthony?" She asked suddenly, her tone light but with an undeniable hint of genuine interest.

Anthony's eyes snapped open, and he looked up at her, taken aback by her sudden question. "I don't know," he replied, shrugging it off casually, attempting to downplay the question. "A few, I guess."

She narrowed her eyes, knowing he was lying. "Ant..."

Shaking his head, giving her a sly grin. "Emma, if I told you how many women I've kissed, I'd probably be thrown in jail," he joked.

"You're insufferable, you know that?"

Anthony chuckled but his smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. "Why do you want to know?" He asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"I don't know... I've just been thinking about it I guess. I just... I've never kissed anyone. Not properly, at least. I was curious what it would feel like to properly kiss someone," she explained, her tone serious once more. "and I thought maybe..."

"Are you mad?" Her eyes widened in surprise. Anthony Bridgertonwas not only her friend but he was also her older brother's best friend. Absolutely not the idea of kissing him seemed absurd, not to mention completely out of the blue.

"Why not? It's just a harmless dare, isn't it? Unless, of course, you're too scared to do it." Benedict teased.

"Scared? Of course I'm not scared, I just choose not to do it" She explained as she went back reading her book.

"Now that I come to think of it, you're right." He shrugged, trying to hide his smirk. "I don't think you have it in you."

Her head shot up as her eyes narrowed at the challenge. Benedict had no idea what he had just triggered. Stubborn and fiercely competitive, eleven-year-old Emmaline Davison was not one to back down from a dare.

"You don't think I will?" She retorted, closing her book with a decisive snap.

"Come on, Emma," Benedict urged with a sly grin. "You won't actually do it." He laughed, shaking his head.

"Watch me." She declared, her voice tinged with stubbornness as she set her book aside.

Anthony stood by the lake shore, skipping stones across the water with practiced ease. He had grown taller over the past summer, and Emmaline absolutely hated it. Once she spotted him she marched towards him. She could feel Benedict's eyes on her back, urging her forward. Her jaw tightened. She despised losing, especially to Benedict.

Anthony glanced up, his brow furrowing in confusion at the sight of Emma marching towards him with determined strides. "Hey, Emma," he greeted with a friendly smile. "What brings you h—"

But before he could finish, she reached out and grabbed him by the lapel of his coat, tugging him down to her level, but before he could react she pressed her lips firmly against his, squeezing her eyes shut, her heart was racing against her chest.

Anthony's eyes widened in shock as he registered what was happening. The kiss lasted five seconds, though it felt like an eternity to both of them. When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were flaming, flushed crimson with embarrassment as he met Anthony's stunned gaze. She didn't wait to see more of his reaction. Instead, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

Anthony, still standing by the lake, stood there completely dumbfounded, gaping at her back as he watched her run away. His face was completely red, matching her crimson hue. His mind was still struggling to process what had just happened.

Meanwhile Benedict, who had been watching the entire exchange, was in utter shock. He could hardly believe what he had just witnessed. He had expected her to back out at the last minute, but she had surprised him. "You actually did it."

"Of course I did. Now, about those peach tarts..."

"You want me to do what?!?" Anthony exclaimed.

"Kiss me."

Anthony's eyes widened, shaking his head. "Absolutely not, Emma... No I can't—"

She groaned. "And why not?"

"You know why. It's not... appropriate." He replied firmly.

"It's not like it would mean anything. Just a simple kiss."

"It's not happening, Emma."

"I'd rather kiss someone I know than a complete stranger," she explained softly. "I just want to know what it would feel like. That's all."

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "And you think I'm the best candidate for that?"

"Well yes, we've known each other for so long, you're not a stranger and i presume you are experien–"

Anthony shook his head again, this time more adamantly. "I'm not going to do it, Emma. It's—no."

"Oh come on!" She groaned in frustration as she shifted, sitting on her knees as she faced him more fully. "You've already stolen my first kiss, so it's only fair you repay the favor," she protested.

Anthony's eyes widened even more, as if she had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Stole? That was your fault!" he argued. "If I remember correctly, you kissed me."

"It was a dare," Emmaline argued back, her voice rising slightly. "It doesn't count!"

Anthony's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're mad, woman. Absolutely mad."

"Yes, maybe I am."she replied simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You're impossible." he muttered under his breath.

"So, you'll do it?"

"This is a terrible idea." He said as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Please, Anthony. Just once." She whispered, her tone softening

Anthony sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he couldn't believe what he was about to do. "Alright. fine" he muttered, finally giving in, "Come here."

Emmaline grinned as she scooted closer to him, but as the moment neared, her nerves suddenly kicked in. Not understanding why she was feeling so anxious, she found herself unable to meet his eyes, her gaze focused on the grass beneath her.

This was Anthony, her childhood friend. The one person she could always rely on, the same one who would go out of his way to put a smile on her face, someone she trusted implicitly. He would never do anything to hurt her.

He noticed, his expression softening. He reached out, gently placing his index finger under her chin, lifting her face so their eyes met. "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to," he asked softly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

Her heart raced as she gave a small nod, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sure." She said her eyes never leaving his. "I want to."

Anthony nodded in return, his expression softening as he looked at her—affection lingering in his eyes without him even realizing it. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against hers, and for a moment, they both hesitated. Then, Anthony pressed his lips gently against hers, closing the distance between them. It was gentle, almost hesitant, like he was holding back, as if he were afraid of overwhelming her. He kissed her as if they had all the time in the world, no rush, no expectations.

Emmaline's eyes fluttered closed as she kissed him back, her lips moving shyly against his. Her body instinctively leaned into him. His lips were soft, far softer than she had imagined, and the kiss was unhurried, thoughtful. It wasn't demanding or rushed; instead, it was deliberate, like he was savoring the moment just as much as she was. This was her first real kiss, and though it was soft and chaste, the sensation was enough to make her entire body tingle. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The world around them disappeared, leaving only the feeling of his lips on hers

She was the first to pull back just an inch, her chest rising and falling slowly as she stared at his lips, then slowly met his gaze. Anthony's eyes were half-lidded, dark and full of something she couldn't quite place—affection? Desire? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that it made her pulse quicken.

But Anthony wasn't ready to let go—not yet.

Before she could fully process what had happened, Anthony's hand came up, his fingertips brushing against her cheek before his palm cupped her cheek and pulled her back to him. His eyes searched hers, silently asking for permission, and when she didn't pull away, his lips captured hers once more.

This time, there was no hesitation.

This kiss wasn't like the first—no longer soft and careful, it was deeper and more intense that neither of them had expected. It was as if all the restraint had melted away, and Anthony no longer hesitated.

Anthony deepened the kiss as his lips moved against hers and she instinctively leaned into him, her body responding to the pull of his. His hand slipped from her cheek to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tilted her head to the perfect angle. He kissed her like he was starving, like he had been holding back for years and couldn't contain himself any longer. His lips moved against hers with more force, more heat, and she found herself responding in kind, her own desire flaring to life as she kissed him back.

Emmaline responded without thinking, her lips parting further, and she kissed him back with an intensity that surprised her. Her hands, once resting nervously in her lap, found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. Her heart was racing, her mind spinning, and she couldn't stop herself from wanting more—more of his touch, more of his lips, more of him. She felt the heat rising in her, the tension building between them as their kiss deepened, becoming more heated with every passing second.

Without even realizing it, she was no longer sitting beside him. She shifted, her knees pressing into the soft grass beneath them as she moved onto Anthony's lap. Her legs settled on either side of him, and she could feel the strength of his arms around her, steadying her, holding her as though he never wanted to let her go. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as she leaned further into him.

Anthony's hands immediately slid to her waist, gripping her firmly as he pulled her down harder onto his lap. Emmaline gasped into his mouth as his grip on her waist tightened, her body arching into his as their kiss grew more intense. She had never felt anything like this before—the overwhelming desire that surged through her, the way her skin burned with every touch, every kiss. It was as though her entire body had come alive, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. She couldn't stop the quiet moan that escaped her lips.

And her quiet moan was all it took to drive Anthony closer to the edge. Her sounds—soft, breathless, filled with need—were like music to his ears. He wasn't going to admit it, of course, but hearing her react that way to his touch, his kiss, made something primal stir within him. His lips left hers, trailing down her jaw, her neck, leaving a path of heated kisses along her skin. She tilted her head back, giving him more access, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tugged lightly, sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

The tug at his hair made him groan softly against her neck, and his teeth grazed her skin in response. Emmaline's quiet moan echoed in his ears, and his control, already hanging by a thread, slipped further. He kissed her neck eagerly, his hands roaming her body, feeling the curves beneath the thin fabric of her dress. She pulled his hair again, harder this time, and Anthony's restraint shattered.

His lips found hers again, this time with a fierce, raw passion that left them both breathless. Emmaline's body melted into his, her hips shifting slightly on his lap, causing a wave of heat to surge through him. His grip on her waist tightened even more, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer, his mind consumed by the need to feel more of her, to hear more of those sweet, intoxicating sounds she made.

But somewhere, deep in the haze of desire, a small voice in his mind broke through.

Stop.

He could feel the tension between them was spiraling out of control. He needed to stop—before things went further than either of them intended.

"Emma..."

With great effort, Anthony tore his lips away from hers, breathing heavily as he spoke, his voice rough and strained. "We... we need to stop."

But even as he said the words, his hands didn't move, and neither did she. Emmaline's chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart pounding as she looked down at him. Her lips were swollen from the intensity of their kiss, her body still tingling with the aftermath of the passion they had just shared. She knew he was right—this was dangerous territory, and yet...

A faint rustling sound came from the trees behind them.

Her body stiffened instantly, and so did Anthony. Without a word, he pressed his hand gently over her mouth, his other arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her down with him, his body hovering protectively over hers. They lay flat on the grass as they hid behind the tree.

Emmaline's pulse raced as Anthony's body shielded hers, the weight of him above her sending her mind reeling. She felt his breath against her cheek, warm and unsteady, and the intensity of the moment wrapped around them. The noises, footsteps, grew louder for a brief moment, but then they faded just as quickly as they had appeared.

Anthony remained tense, his hand still lightly covering her lips, his body completely still except for the rise and fall of his chest. Emmaline's heart beat furiously beneath him, and her mind raced with the events of the last few minutes—the kiss, the closeness, the way her body had instinctively moved to his.

Eventually, the noises ceased altogether, and Anthony slowly removed his hand from her mouth, his eyes scanning the area around them. Satisfied that whoever had been nearby was now gone, he exhaled a long, deep breath and shifted back slightly, just enough to give Emmaline some space but still close enough that she could feel the lingering warmth of him.

"I think it's safe," he whispered, his voice low and rough, as if the tension had yet to fully leave him.

Emmaline nodded, her heart still pounding in her ears, her thoughts scattered. She quickly stood up, smoothing her dress with shaky hands, trying to compose herself. She could still feel the heat on her cheeks, feeling more flustered.

Anthony watched her, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary before he forced himself to look away. His own chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, his mind reeling from what had just happened.

Anthony, too, stood up, his brow furrowed as though he was wrestling with a thousand thoughts. For a moment, neither of them spoke, both unsure of how to proceed.

"I didn't expect that," Emmaline stuttered.

"Neither did I," Anthony admitted.

Neither of them said a word but they both knew that things between them had changed—whether they were ready to admit it or not.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Anthony broke the silence. "We should... part ways," he said, his voice strained as if forcing the words out.

Emmaline looked at him, wanting to say something, wanting to acknowledge what had happened between them, but before she could speak, he stood and brushed the dirt from his trousers, turning away slightly as if he couldn't bear to meet her eyes for too long.

"I'll go first," he added quickly, still avoiding her gaze. "Wait a little while before you leave. We can't risk anyone seeing us together."

Emmaline opened her mouth to protest, to call his name—Anthony—but the words stuck in her throat. He was already backing away, his face unreadable, his expression guarded in a way she hadn't seen before.

"I... Anthony—" she finally managed, but he cut her off.

"It's better this way," he said, his voice clipped, but underneath it was a tremor of something—regret, perhaps, or something even deeper. "I'll see you... when I see you."

Before she could respond, Anthony turned on his heel and strode away, disappearing into the trees, leaving Emmaline sitting by the lake, her thoughts swirling.

As he walked further away from the lake, his steps quick and purposeful, his mind was a storm of confusion.

What the hell had gotten into him?

His hands clenched into fists as he pushed forward, trying to shake the image of her. He had kissed her—no, they had kissed each other—and it had been more intense than anything he'd ever felt. He hadn't meant for it to go that far, hadn't meant to lose control. But the way she had looked at him, the way she had felt in his arms... it had been impossible to resist. He could still taste her on his lips, still feeling the lingering sensation of Emmaline's kiss.

Cornelius.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. He groaned inwardly, dragging a hand through his hair as guilt flooded his veins.

What had he done?

Cornelius had made it clear to all of his friends, his sisters were off-limits, no exceptions. Anthony had never given it a second thought, because Emmaline had always just been Emmaline—his friend, that's it. He never imagined something like this would happen between them.

But now it has. And there was no undoing it.

He could still see Cornelius's face in his mind, the easy smile he wore when they joked around, the protective look he'd give anyone who so much as glanced at his sisters the wrong way. If Cornelius ever found out what had just happened...

Anthony shook his head. He couldn't think about that now. It hadn't meant anything, it was nothing. Just a moment that had gotten out of hand. They both knew that. They'd been caught up in the heat of the moment, but it wasn't anything more than that.

And yet, as much as he tried to convince himself of that truth, a part of him knew it wasn't entirely true.

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Emmaline pressed her back against the door the moment she stepped into her home, the faint creak of the hinges barely registering in her mind. Her breath hitched as she pressed her back against the large oak door of the estate. The cool wood sent a shiver up her spine, but it was nothing compared to the tingling sensation still lingering on her lips. Her heart was still racing, her chest rose and fell rapidly as if she had been running. Yet she hadn't run at all, not from the brisk walk back from the lake, but from the turmoil of her emotions. It was the memory of the afternoon by the lake with Anthony that made her feel this way.

She raised her hand, her fingers brushed against her lips, as if she could somehow bring back the feeling. That kiss. She closed her eyes, remembering the warmth of Anthony's breath, the unexpected press of his lips against hers. It had been brief but tender, enough to make her heart race uncontrollably in her chest.

Why had she kissed him? Why had she asked him to do it in the first place? Why, after all these years of friendship, had she invited the kiss? And why did it feel like her heart had exploded, a thousand tiny fragments floating in her chest, both weightless and unbearably heavy?

She touched her lips again as if by touching them, she could understand what had happened between them. But no matter how hard she tried, the answer eluded her. It had been such a small thing, a single kiss. It made no sense, or perhaps it made too much sense, and that frightened her. They had been childhood friends—always together, always close— but nothing more. At least, she had never allowed herself to imagine anything more.

Anthony was the Viscount Bridgerton, a man with duties and responsibilities far greater than the whims of her heart. But after today, something had shifted, something she didn't quite understand. She could still feel the warmth of his hand as he had gently cupped her cheek, the way he had looked at her—so intense, so full of something she couldn't quite name.

Her chest tightened at the thought, and her fingers curled into the fabric of her gown as if that could stop the fluttering inside her. It didn't. Emmaline bit her lip, wishing desperately she could erase the way her heart had seemed to explode when his lips had met hers.

What had she been thinking?

She could still feel the tingling on her lips, as though the touch lingered, a ghostly reminder of something that should never have happened... and yet, she wished it hadn't ended.

A soft sigh escaped her, the confusion settling deeper. The Anthony she had known for years—playful, teasing, forever her partner in childhood mischief—now seemed like a stranger. Or had he always been more, and she had simply refused to see it?

She shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts away. No good would come from dwelling on it. Anthony was her oldest friend, nothing more. It was just a kiss, it doesn't mean anything. She needed to remember that.

Straightening herself, she pushed herself off the door and smoothed her gown, and forced her breath to even out. She couldn't dwell on this. Not now. She had other things to attend to, and there was no sense in getting lost in foolish dreams. Perhaps it was just the heat of the day, the gentle breeze by the lake, or the way the light had flickered over the water that had made her think there could be more between them. Yes, that had to be it.

Still, her fingers brushed her lips once more, a soft, wistful touch.

With a deep breath, she made her way upstairs, her footsteps echoing softly in the corridor as she made her way toward the drawing room. The familiar scent of lavender and freshly baked scones wafted down the corridor, a sign that her mother was hosting tea once again. Lady Violet Bridgerton and her mother were having their usual afternoon tea, something that had become a comfortable routine over the years. She could hear the gentle hum of conversation before she entered, not recognizing the familiar voice of Lady Violet Bridgerton, who was speaking in her usual warm tone.

As she entered, Emmaline immediately caught sight of Lady Violet Bridgerton seated comfortably in one of the high-backed armchairs, a delicate porcelain teacup in hand. Her mother, Eleanor Davison, sat beside her on the sofa, equally poised and elegant, the two women engaged in what appeared to be an enjoyable conversation. Both women turned at Emmaline's entrance. For a moment, Emmaline wished she could disappear under their scrutinizing gazes, especially Lady Violet's sharp yet knowing eyes.

"Ah, there she is," Lady Violet greeted, her eyes brightening as Emmaline entered the room. "We were just speaking of you, my dear."

Emmaline felt her stomach tighten slightly. Though she adored Lady Violet and always enjoyed her company, the woman had a knack for knowing when something was amiss—and Emmaline feared the lingering blush on her cheeks would give it away. But Lady Violet's expression remained light and pleasant, showing no hint that she knew of what had just happened a moment ago.

"Lady Bridgerton! My apologies." She curtsey, dipped her head in greeting. "Mama."

Violet's gaze softened as she smiled at the young girl. "No need to apologize, dear. You're just in time for tea." She motioned toward the tray on the low table, where an assortment of pastries and fresh tea had been laid out. "Please, help yourself."

Emmaline obliged, seating herself carefully beside her mother. She poured herself a cup of tea, trying to push the memory of her earlier encounter with Anthony to the back of her mind. For all her resolve, though, it was difficult to keep from replaying every word he had spoken, every glance exchanged.

Violet turned her head, her eyes soft with affection. "How was your walk, my dear?"

Emmaline hesitated, her hand tightening around the edge of her gown as her mind raced. "It was... refreshing, thank you."

"You look tired, dear, must be the weather making you feel this way." Eleanor said as she sipped her tea.

"Not terribly," she replied, trying to sound casual. "The weather was actually pleasant today."

"Indeed," Violet smiled, "Eloise was telling me that you two took a stroll down the park."

"Hmm mmm," Emmaline's cheeks flushed slightly, and she glanced down into her teacup, suddenly finding the dark liquid incredibly interesting.

"We were just discussing tomorrow's plans for Francesca's return." Eleanor said.

Emmaline blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Francesca is back?"

Violet nodded, her smile softening. "She arrived only yesterday. Which is why I'd love for your family to join us tomorrow at Bridgerton House. We're hosting a little small gathering to welcome her home. I know it would mean a great deal to her if you were there."

Eleanor smiled graciously. "How lovely! We would be delighted to join."

Emmaline, however, felt a sudden knot form in her stomach. Francesca was returning, and that was wonderful, but the thought of seeing Anthony again so soon... after what had just happened... It was too much.

Violet, seeming to sense her hesitation, reached out and gently touched Emmaline's hand. "Francesca was asking about you specifically, Emmaline. She's missed you terribly. And so have Hyacinth and Gregory—they've both been asking when you'll come by."

Emmaline's heart softened at the mention of the younger Bridgertons. She had always had a special bond with them, especially Gregory, who reminded her so much of a younger Anthony. The idea of seeing them again brought a genuine smile to her face.

"I suppose it has been a while, hasn't it?" Emmaline managed a soft laugh. "I would love to join. It would be wonderful to see her—and the rest of the family." Emmaline replied, her voice more certain now.

Violet smiles brightly. "Splendid. It's settled then. We'll keep it a simple affair—just family and close friends. No need for formalities."

Her mother, Eleanor, nodded in agreement, casting a brief glance at Emmaline. "We would be happy to attend," she said, then added softly, "It's been a while since we've all gathered with the Bridgertons. It will be good for us."

Emmaline offered a polite smile, but inside her mind was whirling. Tomorrow she would be at Bridgerton House, surrounded by the family—and by Anthony. Would he act differently? Would he pretend their kiss hadn't happened, or would the weight of it hang in the air between them, unspoken but undeniable?

"Thank you for the invitation, Lady Bridgerton," Emmaline said after a moment, her voice more composed than her thoughts. "I look forward to it."

As the tea came to an end, Violet rose signaling the end of their visit. "I shall expect you all tomorrow afternoon," she said with a smile, placing a gentle hand on Emmaline's shoulder. She then turned to say her farewells to Eleanor.

Once the door closed behind Lady Violet, Emmaline stood in silence for a moment, her mind buzzing with possibilities and uncertainties. With a final glance toward the door, Emmaline headed up to her room, her fingers brushing her lips once more, the memory of the kiss still lingering, just as vivid as the moment it had happened.

As soon as she was alone in her room, she sank onto the edge of her bed, her hands trembling slightly.

Why had she kissed him? And why—why did she want to do it again?

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞:
AHHHH IT FINALLY HAPPEN THEY FINALLY KISSED. I hope you guys enjoy the fluff before the storms comes hehehehe

guys I hate to be that person but this is not the end of act one there still one more chapter left. its my bad the last chapter I finished was over 100 pages on wattpad and over 21,000 words so I decided again to spilt it into 2 chapters. but the good news it you'll get this and the last final chapter of act one within the same week. final chapter of cruel summer will be published this friday (yes the day wicked part 1 premier I'm doing that on purpose hehehe)

also also I'm so sorry it took me so long to update once again, I've been holding it off writing because of school, student teaching, lesson planning is no joke and lowkey still a little depressed about the wicked LA premier but that's another story for another time which reminds me

WHOS EXCITED FOR WICKED BC I KNOW I AM AHHHHHH I'm seeing it this Friday and im beyond excited.

lastly CRUEL SUMMER HIT 77K AHH LIKE WHAT thank you guys so so much. I'm so glad you guys are liking it and these character as much as I do.

once again don't forget to comment and vote loves. don't be a ghost reader and I'll see you guys in the next chapter! <3

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CRUEL SUMMER © pattyluquin, 2022