Anthony closed his eyes and let out a long breath. There was nothing he wanted to do more, but he wasn’t sure what to say to Kate, and more importantly, he had no idea how he’d feel once he got there.
A Bridgerton! I can spot a Bridgerton anywhere.Benedict was a Bridgerton, and while there was no family to which he’d rather belong, he sometimes wished he were considered a little less a Bridgerton and a little more himself.
Just then, a woman of somewhat indeterminate age dressed as a shepherdess sauntered over. A Bridgerton! she trilled. I’d recognize that chestnut hair anywhere. Which are you? No, don’t say. Let me guess. You’re not the viscount, because I just saw him. You must be Number Two or Number Three.Benedict eyed her coolly.Which one? Number Two or Number Three?
She clapped her hands together. That’s what I thought! Oh, I must find Portia. I told her you were Number Two—Benedict, he nearly growled.
—but she said, no, he’s the younger one, but I—
Benedict suddenly had to get away. It was either that or kill the twittering ninnyhammer, and with so many witnesses, he didn’t think he could get away with it. If you’ll excuse me, he said smoothly. I see someone with whom I must speak.Good God, Anthony, what has you frowning so? Not that olive. I saw it clearly and it didn’t even touch you.
Benedict’s voice broke him out of his reverie, and Anthony blinked a few times before answering, Nothing. Nothing at all.He hadn’t, of course, shared his thoughts about his own mortality with anyone else, even his brothers. It was not the sort of thing one wanted to advertise. Hell, if someone had come up to him and said the same thing, he probably would have laughed him right out the door.
But no one else could understand the depth of the bond he’d felt with his father. And no one could possibly understand the way Anthony felt it in his bones, how he simply knew that he could not live longer than his father had done. Edmund had been everything to him. He’d always aspired to be as great a man as his father, knowing that that was unlikely, yet trying all the same. To actually achieve more than Edmund had—in any way—that was nothing short of impossible.Anthony’s father was, quite simply, the greatest man he’d ever known, possibly the greatest man who’d ever lived. To think that he might be more than that seemed conceited in the extreme.