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"She resents me."
"Still? It's been more than two years."
"Anthony, you know better than anyone that resentment does not have a date on which it simply expires."
"Yes, but I thought she no longer held the events leading up to our wedding against us."
"It's not the wedding," Kathani sighed. "It would be simpler if it was."
"Then what is it?"
"There is no one reason."
She looked defeated.
It was an expression Anthony could not countenance. He rang for one of the staff.
"We'll take tea in the Charbagh Garden."
"On the pavilion sir, or by the fountain?"
"The pavilion."
"Very good, sir."
Now that Kathani was Lady Bridgerton proper, Anthony had given her free rein to redecorate both Aubrey Hall and Bridgerton House. He'd been serious when he'd said he wanted a life which suited them both; that included their home.
The idea actually came to him during their honeymoon– Kathani had made an offhand comment that mosaics in the villa reminded her of the jali in the palace. Anthony had no idea what a jali was, so his wife found a scrap of paper and sketched one of the incredibly intricate jali from memory. As they visited more famous sites, Kathani began commenting on the differences between Roman, Renaissance, and Indian architecture: the soaring domes, her favorite fountains, the styles of gardens.
After that conversation, it seemed some self-imposed wall had broken and Kathani spoke more and more frequently about her home in India. It expanded from architecture to the differences between English and Indian saddles, horse tack, stables; the confusion going from raga to the European system of music when learning how to play the pianoforte; her father's office, desk, and rug. She missed wearing her hair in a braid. She wished she could eat with her hands.
Before their honeymoon, Anthony would not have truly understood what Kathani was speaking of. However, after two months of traveling in Italy, he found himself ambushed at the most random moments by an intense longing for the wingback chair in his study. And while it was fashionable among their social circle to have a full breakfast, Anthony rarely partook unless he was a guest– he was something of a grazer by nature and his main meal of the day was dinner. One morning on his honeymoon, he woke with a craving for the complete spread: muffins, toast, five different types of preserves, boiled and poached eggs, cold cuts, bacon, sausage, whiting– the entire production.
It was with this in mind that, for her birthday, Anthony replaced her desk with one in the style of her father's, complete with a writing set.
And it was with this in mind that he encouraged her to make changes to the decor. She started with the bedroom– the heavy drapes around their bed were replaced with delicate, sheer curtains. A special set of cups for chai appeared. Benedict introduced her to an art student from India– Deepti Seetharam– who had studied 17th century Mughal art; Kathani commissioned a set of paintings in the same style as Ustad Mansur.
Deepti painted all sorts of birds, plants, animals found at Aubrey Hall. Anthony insisted on several paintings of tulips and lilies; Kathani had Newton immortalized for the benefit of all future Bridgertons (Anthony's contribution: "he should be more rotund"). These paintings gradually replaced the many still lifes of bowls of fruit, interchangeable landscapes of the English countryside, various portraits of Bridgertons whose names even Violet couldn't recall.
The piece de resistance was when Deepti's friend of a friend of a friend, Umar Al-Hakim, turned out to have some training in creating mosaics and had recently come to Britain after spending time in Spain, studying prominent sites of Islamic architecture. Kathani immediately commissioned him to add mosaics to certain rooms.
It was very slow going– the tiles had to be custom made and while Anthony hired additional hands who laid the mosaics, due to the sheer size of the job, the project was not completed for two years. But the time and money spent was well worth it. Before their honeymoon, Anthony could never shake the feeling that Kathani did not consider Aubrey Hall and Bridgerton House as a true home; they were simply properties she kept in good order for her husband.
Putting in the work and energy to change the house to her tastes was the first step towards giving her a real connection to a place of permanence, rather than floating unanchored to the ever-shifting ties made with people.
And the renovations were not restricted to the interior. There were changes made to the stables, the addition of a charbagh garden, an expansion of the orangery, a new fountain. Anthony also decided to convert his father's study to a proper library, removing the enormous desk and replacing it with two smaller tables, in addition to three more bookshelves. Eloise, whose room at Number 5 was overflowing with books, was only too glad to use the new shelves as her personal stacks.
The desk and wingback chair were moved to Anthony's new office; he completely redid one of the large parlors to his tastes. The study of his bachelor lodgings had rich green walls with gold crown molding, dark red cushions, dark green drapes and translucent goldenrod curtains, a fireplace of green and yellow marble, books bound in dark blue covers, shelves for documents and ledgers dedicated exclusively to the management of the estate, and several windows; he'd always felt more comfortable working long hours surrounded by those colors.
For his new office, he added more dark blues and purples and instead of filling the room with bronze Roman urns (in retrospect, it was a rather morbid choice for decor), there were vases for flowers– they reminded him of Kathani. She had her own office, but they each included a side table and chair for occasions when his wife came to work with him and vice versa, as well as a huge chaise lounge (for obvious reasons).
He left his father's portrait in the library. He had yet to commission a portrait of him and his wife– Sir Granville was in high demand– and Kathani thought it ridiculous of him to put a portrait of her in his office since he could always ask one of the footmen to fetch her. So he had Benedict paint small portraits of all his siblings instead. Benedict insisted they would be no good, to which Anthony replied, "all the more reason to practice."
Kathani came up with a solution (as usual). Instead of having the children sit for portraits, Benedict would simply paint them doing the activities they did each day. Thus, Anthony had portraits of Eloise reading, Francesca at the pianoforte, Gregory and Hyacinth's heads bent together working on their arithmetic (multiplication and division), and Colin staring at a blade of grass (Anthony didn't ask). Benedict's idea of humor dictated that the portrait he painted of Daphne and Simon was Daphne standing and Simon sitting in front of their portrait by Sir Granville.
Violet's portrait went in the library, joining Edmund's.
As for Benedict, Kathani insisted on painting him. She knew he was Anthony's dearest sibling and wanted to capture Benedict's many facets. The result was a lovely series studies in watercolor: Benedict painting Francesca; Benedict with his feet hanging over the arm of the settee, sketching; Benedict with his crooked smile; Benedict in one of his more serious moods; and the last– Benedict fencing with Anthony. As it often happens with watercolors, they were not exact portraits meant to capture every detail, yet they all expressed those different aspects of his character. She did not produce a replica of a single moment in time, but the colors of Benedict's spirit, evoking Anthony's memories.
Kathani requested Deepti to paint Edwina and Lady Mary in Deepti's own style (a mixture of classic European and Indian). She asked Benedict to paint a portrait of Lady Danbury, much to Benedict's horror and Lady Danbury's amusement. No matter what self-deprecating comments Benedict might have for his own art, he masterfully captured Lady Danbury's raised eyebrow and knowing smirk.
All of this went a long way towards making Kathani feel that Aubrey Hall and Bridgerton House were truly her own. The Charbagh Garden was her and Anthony's favorite place to have tea; the staff had brought out a settee and a low table. It allowed them to sit next to each other, or sprawl out– Anthony had on more than one occasion pillowed his head in Kathani's lap as she read to him after they'd finished their tea.
They arrived at the garden just as the staff set out Kathani's chai and Anthony's tea. Once all the things were served, tea poured, plates laid out with scones with clotted cream and fresh strawberries (Kathani), finger sandwiches with curry chicken (Anthony), and a plate of sliced oranges (or mangoes, when available), Kathani looked out at the garden, pensively sipping her chai.
"Did anything happen?"
"No. Yes? I don't know."
"You don't want to respond to her letter."
Kathani narrowed her eyes at him.
"How is it that you can read my mind now but not this morning when it was clearly your turn to let Newton out?"
"Darling, he's your dog."
"And yours through marriage."
"You insisted he have his little corner in our room."
"You capitulated after he scratched at our door for ten minutes."
"It was annoying!"
"I thought you would hold out for at least the one night."
"You're entirely responsible for his behavior– you've spoiled the beast his entire life."
"Yes, I spoil him. And who is the one who gives in every time he looks at you with his woebegone face?"
"I shan't allow this kind of slander in my own house," Anthony said, unable to keep from smiling. "What did she say? Sometimes the written word doesn't convey the intended tone."
"You're never going to let me forget that, are you."
"Forget what?"
"It is not my fault Shakespeare gives no clue as to how his plays ought to be read."
"Ah yes, Helena's, 'I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you,' is quite ambiguous."
"And she says 'you draw not iron, for my heart is true as steel' right before that! How was I to know she was in love? It was the first time I'd read it and Eloise had us begin with Act II!"
"I shall never forget you playing her part with such ferocious anger. It brought back fond memories of our beginnings."
"You could have told me instead of encouraging me, Demetrius."
"Whatever for? It was entirely too much fun," he smirked. "For a moment, I thought you were going to attack me."
"For a moment, I thought your brothers were going to douse us with cold water."
"They very nearly did," Anthony said with his mouth full of sandwiches. He took a sip of tea, then:
"That's your second attempt to redirect this conversation."
Kathani scowled at him, taking a sip of chai. His heart filled with fondness at his wife's expression.
"She mentioned Nectar."
Anthony looked at her patiently. The silences he needed from her were different than the silences she needed from him.
"The horse you gave her."
He nodded.
"And how I told you the horse was a character from a story of love."
He continued to wait.
She sighed. Set down her chai and sat back.
"The day your mother and Lady Danbury issued invitations for the ball, before you tried to make conversation skulking behind the statue–"
"I did not skulk, I hid– there's a difference."
"Edwina asked me if I believed in true love, or if everything I told her had been a lie."
"And what did you say?"
His wife leaned into him, sitting sideways.
He moved her into his lap, holding her waist, her legs stretched out on the settee.
"That I believe in true love and happy endings. Lady Mary and my father had loved each other so deeply."
"And how did she reply?"
They both knew the answer, but he knew Kathani needed to say it.
"That even their marriage ended in tragedy. That happy endings do not exist in real life," she looked down at her hands, then up again. "The same reason why you had decided not to marry for love: the fear that grief would destroy your wife."
"You know it's not that simple."
She nodded.
"You feared your son would be forced to carry the family alone in her absence."
He took her hand in his, thumb stroking her fingers.
"Just as you had when your father died," he said softly.
"There were days when it was too much to bear, Anthony," she gripped his hand. "Days when I felt the only reason I kept living was because I could not leave Edwina behind."
"I know."
"Sometimes I wonder if she was right. That I merely pushed on her my dreams and desires."
"No, darling, that's not what you did. Telling her stories about true love is never a bad thing."
"It only ended up breaking her heart and she hated me. Anthony, she hated me so much."
"She did not hate you– she was angry with you."
Kathani shook her head.
He wanted to draw her in even closer until there was no space between them, but she had become so rigid, he knew she would only pull back.
"The letter. She said I had gotten my fairy tale ending despite all her interference– and I even have Nectar to ride to happily ever after."
"Are things not going well with the Prince?"
"They are going too well, it seems. She said she can't trust her own feelings."
Anthony wanted to reassure her that Edwina hadn't mentioned Nectar out of resentment. To Anthony's ears, it sounded like Edwina had made a joke, though perhaps in poor taste.
But he knew that wasn't what mattered here. He was here for his wife, just as she had always been there for him. She didn't need him to try to explain away her hurts and fears– she needed him to listen.
"She asked for advice. Whether I thought the Prince was serious."
It was strange, he thought distantly, how they often found intimacy in gardens.
"And I don't know what to say, Anthony. I don't know what to do."
It's somehow easier to be vulnerable in bed, in warm, dark spaces. But here, under a pavilion and a clear blue sky, their confessions witnessed by lotus cleansed with summer rain.
"The last time I gave her advice, she went against it and when she said it was my fault, I believed it."
Charbagh gardens are meant to symbolize the four gardens of paradise.
"I still believe it. I should have told her the truth."
His wife had chosen every tree and flower here. She'd designed the waterways and she had commissioned the fountains.
"All I wanted was her forgiveness," her voice broke.
Anthony finally drew her close and she allowed it, body seeking shelter. The air was filled with different notes of fragrance.
"I begged– sometimes I think the only reason why she forgave me at all was because I almost died."
He closed his eyes. Tea, chai, oranges.
"That morning– I went riding in the park because I had failed her so utterly, taking you for myself. I wanted to have you just once– and then I regretted it."
The scent of rich green leaves.
He closed his eyes, unable to do anything but grip her tight and never let go.
"Anthony– before you found me in the garden that night– she said I was cruel. That I didn't care what she wanted, when that was the reason why I had asked you to marry her."
He breathed deeply. The sound of flowing water.
"That was all I could think of. My entire life, I wanted– and I failed her. I failed her completely."
"You did not fail her," he whispered. "You did your best. You did everything for her, you never failed her."
"I never meant to hurt her."
"I know, darling, I know."
"I never meant to hurt her."
"I know," he continued to whisper.
"But now she's asking for advice and I don't know what to say. I feel as though I'm failing her again."
"You're not failing her," he whispered. "You didn't fail her, Kathani."
"I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything."
"I want to help her."
"I know," he said softly. "But not at a cost to yourself."
"I hate that she's asked me for advice. But I know I would give it– I know if she were to ask me, face-to-face, I would give it."
"And you hate yourself for it."
He understood.
"I hate myself for wanting to give it to her. To give anything and everything to her."
"I know."
He understood.
"I begged, Anthony. I begged her so many times, and she would not even offer me the chance of forgiveness."
Paradise– where one can be safe without judgment.
"That was all I wanted– to be allowed to earn her forgiveness."
"Forgiveness is never something to be earned," he said quietly, fiercely. "It's something freely given."
"Then how could I ever hope that she would forgive me?"
Where one is loved without cost.
"She told me I was her half-sister, Anthony," she whispered, almost inaudible. "The day of the wedding."
Where one can be weak, without fear.
"And I am her half-sister."
The hurts in a lifetime are soothed.
"I don't think I can give her what she wants to hear."
Where truths are not weapons.
"But I want to give it to her. Even if she hated me for it again, I want to give it to her."
Where gifts bring no shame.
He understood.
"You don't need to say anything, Kathani. We keep each other honest, and we keep each other safe."
"Then what do I say?"
"Tell her you love her, and trust her. Tell her you'll always support her."
"I want to tell her what she wants me to tell her."
"Not at a cost to you," he said. "Never at this cost to you.
Charbagh gardens– where one finds and gives respite, solace, without a word.
"What does she want you to tell her"
"I don't know," she said, soft. "I would give it if I could."
"Not at a cost to you."
He kissed her forehead and she let him hold her.
They both knew– Kathani was not going to write the letter tonight. These conversations where Anthony bared himself, where she bared herself– they made them so tired. The weight lifted made them fall to their knees, the strain and strength expired.
Paradise is where you can sleep when you're tired.
They would always retire early, sometimes even fall asleep immediately. Other times, they'd have a light dinner, then turn in.
"I don't regret you," she said quietly. "I took you for myself and I will never regret you."
They didn't move because they needed this closeness, because love is never something to be earned. They would learn this one day at a time, but the lessons of a lifetime were so difficult to unlearn.
Their house would be a place of joy.
"Why does Oberon put the flower's nectar on Titania's eyes, to make her fall in love with Bottom?"
"Honestly, I don't know."
"It was all so strange."
"We can read it again before bed if you'd like."
"I'll fall asleep. Could you read it to me instead?"
"Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick when I do look on thee."
"When did you memorize this?"
"Years ago. Eloise put on a production of Midsummer Night's Dream– she must have been eleven or twelve."
"And you played Demetrius?"
"Demetrius, Theseus, and Lysander. Eloise was Puck, Daphne was Helena and Hermia, if you can imagine. Colin was Bottom, of course. Benedict Oberon. It was extremely confusing."
"So, you were in a love hexagon?"
"Eloise and Benedict cut and re-organized the parts to make sense. Somehow. I wore a cloak when I was Demetrius and a hat when I was Lysander."
"Why didn't Colin have more parts?"
"He was supposed to be Lysander, but he and Eloise fought so much, he quit the show. Eloise put his name in the program out of spite."
Kathani laughed quietly, still exhausted.
"Did you and Edwina do anything similar?"
"Not plays, but many games of make-believe."
"What was your favorite?"
"My favorite? Pretending to run a bank."
"Pardon?"
"I took some scraps of paper and made them into little banknotes. Edwina would come to me pretending she needed a loan and I would ask her why she needed the money."
"This… sounds like a very strange game."
"Hush. This was before Appa passed away. After Edwina had her turn, he would come and ask for a loan, and I would always reject his."
"Did you reject Edwina's?"
"Of course not."
"And Mama would ask for a loan, and I would approve it."
"What were some of the requests?"
"Edwina asked for books, every single time. Even when she was very small. Appa asked for all kinds of things."
"Such as?"
"The moon. The sky. A new shirt."
"I can't decide if you were wise for denying a loan to buy the moon, or if you were foolish that you were so pragmatic as a child."
"Appa made up such ridiculous ways he would buy the moon. He said he would take a rope with a hook and pull it down when it was a crescent," she smiled.
"I shall have to ask you for a loan someday."
"Indeed, my Lord? And what shall you buy?"
"The moon. The sun and sky."
"I'm afraid I will have to deny that application, Viscount Bridgerton."
"Ah, well. I'll put in an application at the Bank of England. They'll approve my request, and only ask for three percent interest."
"I think I liked the game because I liked drawing the little banknotes. They were quite elaborate."
"I can imagine. And Edwina's favorite game?"
Kathani looked at him with a rueful expression.
"Playing a princess who meets a prince at a ball."
"A bit on the nose."
"Well, if it gives you any comfort, she was a philosopher princess who met the ignorant prince, and before they married she taught him everything he needed to know to be a just king."
"You and your sister are– I don't even have words to describe."
"I was the prince, obviously."
"Obviously."
"And before I married her, I had to answer three riddles."
"Are you sure she wasn't pretending to be a sphinx?"
"Appa was the one who gave Edwina the riddles, and I already knew all the answers so, no."
"Then you married and ruled the kingdom as a merciful and kind sovereign."
"Then the Queen ruled the kingdom because the King was at war fighting the forces of evil that threatened the realm."
"Do you know, everything you say makes me curious about how we'll raise our children."
"Do you?"
"What?"
"Want children?"
"Of course I do."
"I meant now, Anthony."
"Oh. Do you?"
"I asked you first."
"I brought up the topic."
"I'm your wife."
"And? I'm your husband."
"We'll say yes or no on the count of three."
"Agreed," Anthony nodded.
"All right," she said imperiously. "One–; T–"
"Two–"
"Anthony, I was doing the countdown."
"I can't have a say in this?"
"Fine! We'll both say it together."
"Excellent."
"One–" "Three–"
"Anthony!
"You said count down, Kathani!"
"Yes, but we'd already started with one!"
"Right, fine, we'll start at one. Agree?"
"I was in the right in the first place."
"This is going to be the story we tell our child when they're born. Your mother and I decided to have you based on a count down that we couldn't agree how to count down on."
"Anthony!"
"All right, I'm ready."
"One–" "One–"
"Two–" "Two–"
"Yes" "Three!"
Kathani could not stop laughing.
"You had to best me. In a countdown! For our child!"
"Does that mean you want a child now, dear Husband?"
"Yes that means I want a child! I cannot believe you!"