Chapter Text
The park was cool and quiet as the lone, solemn figure of Anthony Bridgerton rode slowly through the early morning mist on his horse. Dawn had only just broken; it was completely empty here amongst the trees and the fields, for which he was extremely grateful. He could simply allow himself to enjoy a moment of reprieve, a moment where he could just stop and be at peace with nature.
He’d had a strenuous week. By day, Anthony had been courting – or rather, interviewing – an overwhelming selection of eager, eligible young bachelorettes who had just made their debut for the season, intent on identifying a prospective wife…but to no avail. By evening, he had been locked away in his study, wearily tending to the over-flowing piles of his family’s invoices and accounts that urgently needed managing. And by night he had been engaged in meaningless intercourse with ladies he barely even spoke to at brothels, in a desperate urge to take his mind off all the pressures that weighed down on him.
Anthony sighed as he trotted sleepily along the woodland path, his head bent low, the sounds of quacks and chirps of waking birds echoing across the vast park. His search for a wife had dragged his spirits down to a point even lower than they usually were. It had been an exhausting and fruitless endeavour and…well, just plain disappointing.
‘Best of luck to you, Brother. You shall certainly need it this season,’ his sister, Daphne, had told him merely the other day, during Eloise’s presentation at the palace.
Well, she certainly hadn’t been wrong.
All thoughts of his former mistress, the opera singer Siena Rosso, had been pushed to the back of Anthony’s mind. He knew now that he had used her as a way to escape and he had let that affair go too far. He had let his feelings almost stray from lust to something more. He couldn’t risk such a thing again, and though he had suffered for it at the time, he was immensely grateful now that Siena had ended things when she did, before he had become too…well, before he had lost sight of what really mattered. Affection and love and such silly notions as romance were not in the slightest bit important when it came to matrimony, after all. Not for the head of a family such as the Bridgertons, anyway. Certainly not for a viscount.
‘I have finally determined the difficulty... love itself. Removing it from all romantic relations shall make me all the better for it. No more distractions from responsibility or being waylaid from the sensible path.’
Anthony was of the most stubborn mind-set that he would maintain that position he had expressed to Daphne at the end of last season - no matter how many times his mother and siblings would try and convince him otherwise - in perpetuity. His agenda for this season was simple: to find a suitable bride as quickly as possible so that he could fulfil his duty as viscount. He needed a wife who was mild, tolerable, dutiful, relatively smart and with suitable hips for childbearing. Nothing less, nothing more. He didn’t think his requirements were overly difficult or demanding, however the amount of names that he had scratched off in his list of prospective brides suggested otherwise.
Another heavy sigh escaped Anthony’s mouth as he plodded on back towards home. He had made this journey so many times from the brothel to his house at this hour that his horse instinctively knew the route, which was lucky, as Anthony felt so tired and mentally drained that he couldn’t really be bothered to take control of the reins or even acknowledge his surroundings. Indeed, he barely even noticed the pair of geese waddling slowly in front of him, simply content together and oblivious to the stresses and misery that plagued the despondent rider trudging along behind them. He barely noticed anything at all.
Suddenly, he heard the distant neighing of a horse.
Anthony’s face shot up at once; he was fond of horses thus knew them well by instinct, and he could tell from just that one simple neigh that this horse was certainly not out for a peaceful, steady morning trot. That horse, wherever it was, was riding fast.
Who would be riding so urgently at this hour? Had they lost control of their horse?
Through the trees Anthony then spotted the source of the noise: someone was galloping rapidly through the park, their horse speeding across the field at such speed it filled Anthony with a sense of dread. The rider appeared to be wearing a hood and…a dark green dress. He could hardly believe it. It was a woman.
‘Whoa, there!’ Anthony called out, immediately concerned. ‘Miss! Are you in trouble?’
But the rider merely carried on, shooting right past him and the geese. Whether she had heard him or not, Anthony couldn’t be sure, but one thing he was certain of was that he couldn’t simply turn his back on what he had just seen. It wasn’t common occurrence for a woman to be out riding by herself, and certainly not to be riding with such speed and force. Her horse might have been spooked by something in the woods and taken off in a mad panic, rendering her utterly powerless to control or slow down the poor creature. Whatever must have happened, she could be in danger. He had to do something.
‘Come on!’ Anthony urged his horse, suddenly feeling far more awake than he had been merely moments before, and he charged after the helpless rider.
It was after about a minute or so of riding desperately after the woman across the empty park field that Anthony slowly began to realise that perhaps not everything was as it originally seemed. The woman was riding astride, which was something he had never seen before and certainly not something a lady ever ought to do. And he could have sworn he saw the woman glance back to see him following, only to then spur her horse on even faster.
This woman, whoever she was, was not in trouble at all – quite the opposite, in fact. Her speedy, reckless riding was deliberate. And, could he be imagining it, or was she egging him on?
His worried expression slowly transforming into that of bemusement, Anthony sped up on his horse as well, determined to reach her. ‘Come on!’ he muttered, frustrated.
But she was clearly more than a match for him. Her equestrian skills were far superior to any he had seen, particularly for a woman. But then he saw, after a while, that she was approaching a long hedge – possibly to evade him and put an end to this bizarre chase – and Anthony’s face fell. The rider was confident, but surely she couldn’t be that reckless?!
‘Careful, now!’ he warned loudly.
The rider merely ignored him and kept going. Anthony watched in horror; was she going to stop?!
‘WHOAH, THERE!’ he shouted in alarm.
His mouth fell open in awe as the rider then jumped the hedge, soaring over to the other side to clear the bush and landing on the ground effortlessly. Anthony yanked on his reins, pulling up his horse to a stop just before he reached the hedge, and stared with parted lips over at the rider, breathless and utterly invigorated. Even he would not have dared make that jump. He had never known such bravery and such reckless behaviour in any woman before. He was utterly dumbfounded.
Who on earth is that?!
As if able to read his thoughts, the woman, who had already ridden a short distance since jumping the hedge, then slowly pulled her horse up and came to a halt as she approached the top of the small hill ahead. She turned around to remove her hood and reveal herself.
And then he saw her.
From this distance, Anthony could see that the rider was young, had dark brown skin, and long curly black hair. She looked over at him with an almost challenging, defiant expression that only enhanced her obvious beauty.
Anthony’s eyes lit up with intrigue as he stared back at her and nodded in a half-polite, half-playful manner, and in doing so felt a strange formation threatening his lips – was it a smile?
There was a twinkle in the rider’s eyes as she raised both her head and eyebrows in response and cast him a satisfied smile, as if to say, ‘See? Now you know I wasn’t in trouble.’ The sight of her looking over at him like that practically took Anthony’s breath away.
Smirking in an almost smug way, the rider then turned, spurred her horse on and trotted away.
Panting from their excursion, Anthony stared after her as she galloped out of sight and felt his face break out in what was undoubtedly a smile. He frowned bemusedly; he never smiled, and he certainly couldn’t remember the last time he had been so intrigued by someone he didn’t even know. Her impeccable horse-riding skills, her blatant disregard for propriety – a woman riding astride and alone, it was practically unheard of! – and not to mention the way she had smiled at him just now…
It was no use. He had to follow her. He had to find out who this mysterious lady was.
The cold morning mist had slowly begun to dissipate as Anthony began his search for the lone female rider. Luckily, he knew this park very well indeed, so after a few shortcuts off the paths it didn’t take him as long as he had feared to locate her.
The sunlight was now streaming through the canopy of trees and was shining directly on the rider as she trotted gently along the path, seemingly satisfied from her fast jaunt and now enjoying the peace and quiet of the woods. Anthony’s lips twitched as he watched her sigh in contentment; he hurried his horse along to approach her.
‘Are you enjoying your victory lap?’ he greeted, emerging from the trees just ahead of her.
The woman’s mouth fell open; he was pleased to see that she looked startled that he had found her.
‘Oh, baap re!’ he heard her mutter with a groan, and she quickly looked around – whether to search for a way to escape him, or just to check that there was no one else around, he couldn’t be sure.
‘You'll not be afforded such an ample head-start this time, I assure you,’ Anthony said, catching up with her on his horse.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he was so fascinated. They were side-by-side now, riding along the path together, and he could see her up close. Her dark, shiny hair hung in a long, loose braid – again, hardly fitting for a young lady of the ton. Her cloak and gloves were elegant and evidently of good quality. Her jawline was angular, her cheekbones sharp, her lips full, her nose dainty, her eyes dark and mysterious, her eyebrows neat, her eyelashes impeccably long, her skin a rich copper brown that glowed whenever the sun hit it. He had never seen a lady look so stunning without being dressed up for a ball, with their face painted, hair styled and gown tailored so immaculately. Here this woman was clearly her natural self, without a care in the world for how she appeared, and it was most unusual and yet also so incredibly refreshing.
‘Apologies, sir,’ the rider said, clearly reluctant to engage in conversation but aware that she did not have much other choice. ‘I did not mean to cause anyone concern.’
She had the slightest hint of an Indian accent.
The rider turned to look at him then and forced a small, polite smile. Anthony smiled back, not entirely convinced by her reply, and cast his eyes down. He still couldn’t fathom the fact that she was not riding side-saddle. He’d never even known that women were taught to ride any other way; his sisters certainly hadn’t been.
‘Does your maid know you are riding astride?’ he asked, amused.
‘I have no maid,’ the woman replied, unconcerned.
‘Ah, then you're married,’ he said, ignoring the strange twisting feeling in his chest as he spoke the words.
The rider dropped her gaze from his, her confident expression faltering suddenly, her smile wiped from her face.
Ah. He knew that look. She wasn’t married at all. She only looked a few years younger than him so that would make her something almost all ladies of the ton feared: a spinster. And yet that did not bother Anthony in the slightest. On the contrary, it only made him want to know more about her.
‘Forgive me,’ Anthony said with a polite nod, and he couldn’t help smiling as the realisation that this mysterious lady was unattached resonated with him. ‘Then you are lost-’
The woman interrupted him, not even bothering to conceal her irritation at his badgering now. ‘I am not lost either, I am on my way back to Mayfair. It is just ahead,’ she said confidently, as they continued along the path.
‘Mayfair?’ Anthony said in amusement, and he raised his eyebrows and tried to fight back a smile. ‘Well, then...’
He knew he ought to tell her that she was completely wrong, that Mayfair was in fact in the opposite direction, but to do so would put an end to their conversation and she would turn around and leave, and he was still too intrigued by her to be rid of her presence just yet. Every woman he had encountered over this past week had been exactly the same. They were all so dull and polite and perfect – but nowhere near perfect enough to be a viscountess, of course – and had nothing of remote interest about them. But this woman, wherever she had come from, was a free spirit indeed, unafraid to ride unaccompanied, even though such a thing would be frowned upon by anyone in the ton. She should be grateful that it was only he who had come across her, and not anyone else; these gossip-loving, rumour-spreading fanatics of Lady Whistledown already desperate for some excitement this season would seize any opportunity to spread the tale of a new scandal.
‘I appreciate your attention, sir, but I assure you I am perfectly safe,’ the rider insisted, frowning at him. ‘Perhaps we pretend this encounter never took place? You allow me to go my way, and you go yours.’
But Anthony wasn’t going anywhere. He tilted his head as he watched her, more captivated by the second. She was very outspoken and confident for a lady speaking alone with a viscount, he had to give her credit for that.
‘You worry about being seen,’ he said, his voice betraying the slightest hint of his strange urge to laugh.
The woman turned her head sharply back to him. ‘I worry about meeting strange men in parks at dawn who fail to leave me alone with their questions,’ she said, making him smile, and she looked away again and raised her chin up high.
Anthony chuckled softly. He wondered if she’d meant to be so beguiling as she spoke those words.
‘Your secret is safe with me, I shall not tell a soul,’ he assured her.
‘How grateful I am,’ the rider retorted; he couldn’t be sure if she intended to sound sarcastic or not.
‘Strange men’. That meant she didn’t know who he was. Perhaps she was newly arrived in London just in time for the season. The weight of his last name and his father’s legacy threatened to drown Anthony every season, and yet this woman had no idea about any of it; she just thought he was an ordinary gentleman, and it felt like such a breath of fresh air. It made him feel lighter, somehow. Younger, even.
‘Losing races to strange women in such parks at dawn,’ Anthony said as they trotted along through the woods, and as their eyes met her lips twitched slyly. ‘I can only imagine the questions I would be asked.’
He chuckled again, and was pleasantly surprised when she laughed as well. It was a most charming sound.
‘Is that what that was?’ the woman said sceptically, and she brought her horse to a halt as she looked at him, her face alight with amusement. ‘A race?’
Anthony came to a stop as well. ‘Well, was it not?’ he asked, pleased that she was letting go of the rigid, formal way in which she had first spoken to him.
‘Does one not need actual competition for a race?’ she said mockingly, frowning as she cast her eyes in derision over Anthony and his horse.
‘You could say that if we had decided on a finish line together, but alas, we made no such agreement,’ Anthony said indignantly, his smile faltering.
He was slightly taken aback; he wasn’t used to being teased or challenged by a woman. Well - a woman who was not a member of the Bridgerton household, anyway. But a part of him quite liked it, he had to admit.
‘Ah,’ the woman said in a teasing voice, ‘I see you are not one for losing.’
Anthony was stunned. ‘I shall have you...’
But he trailed off as she cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. He had worn that self-assured smile himself many times, and yet had never been on the receiving end of such a beguiling expression. It almost rendered him speechless. A young lady, alone and confidently mocking a man who was a complete stranger to her? It was unheard of. It was unbecoming. And it was thrilling. Was this what it felt like, to meet someone who matched you in wit and sharpness and even arrogance? Was this why he suddenly felt so free, so light, so…unlike the persona he always felt he had to adapt? There must be a catch, surely.
Anthony looked down briefly, adjusting his reins. ‘In the rare instances it occurs, I have no difficulty in admitting that I have either lost or am in the wrong,’ he said, almost begrudgingly. ‘But I'm afraid the same cannot be said for you.’
That wiped the smirk off her face. ‘I beg your pardon-?’
‘Mayfair is not right ahead. It is the other way entirely,’ Anthony told her, pointing and trying not to appear too smug as he watched her face fall.
The woman stared back at him, but was then distracted by the sound of galloping hooves and chatter from nearby. She looked up and spotted a pair of male riders on the path ahead, heading towards the correct direction of Mayfair. It was only by sheer dumb luck that neither of them looked up to see her riding alongside a man, unchaperoned.
Anthony tilted his head at her, amused. ‘Not lost, you said?’ he said, rather snarkily.
Sighing and clearly fighting the urge to curse under her breath, the woman then wheeled her horse around. ‘Good day, sir,’ she said, casting him an irritated glance.
Anthony’s smile disappeared at once as she made a clicking noise and took control of the reins, spurring her horse and setting off away from him. Startled, he turned his horse around as well, though what he could do to prevent her from departing, he had no idea.
No, please, do not leave, not yet, he wanted to say. He wanted so much to talk to her more. He couldn’t fathom why. He couldn’t fathom any of it.
‘We have not yet been introduced!’ he called after her in protest.
‘I am afraid that is not possible!’ the mysterious rider called back, waving her hand at him in farewell as she glanced back to smile at him. ‘Not when I have a victory lap to enjoy!’
She giggled loudly as she galloped away, and as her enchanting laughter echoed around the trees Anthony found himself beaming genuinely for the first time in years. Chuckling, he watched her go with a sense of longing and also a sense of having been entirely, inexplicably revitalised. In those brief few minutes that he had spent in her company, both chasing her across the park field and conversing with her along this woodland path, he had felt himself come alive. He was utterly smitten with this stranger…and yet he could not allow himself to indulge in even acknowledging such a fact. He just simply could not allow it.
It was with a huge smile still on his face that Anthony then continued his journey home. Luckily, his delay caused by the unexpected arrival of such an intriguing rider had not caused him to be too late to join his family for breakfast. His cheeks were practically aching when he arrived and entered the house; his facial muscles were not used to smiling so much. He had felt so empty earlier this morning when he had left the brothel, but now…well, briefly meeting that peculiar woman out in the woods had certainly invigorated him, he could not deny it. It was utterly baffling what a complete stranger could do to one’s mood.
After breakfast, the Bridgertons gathered in the comforts of their family drawing room. Violet, their mother, was telling anyone who would listen about the contents of Colin’s most recent letter from Greece or wherever it was he was currently travelling, Francesca was playing the pianoforte, Hyacinth and Gregory were squabbling noisily over a game of chess, Benedict was doodling away on his sketchpad, and Eloise was reading and muttering bitterly under her breath as usual. Anthony found himself smiling once again as he looked around at them all. They were not perfect by all means, but still, it was a happy sight indeed. He very rarely appreciated how lucky he was to always come back to such a lovely home. He took his family for granted far too much.
‘You seem in much greater spirits this morning, Anthony,’ Violet said over her needlework after a while. ‘Did you…have a pleasant day yesterday?’
‘Hm?’ Anthony said, halfway through munching on some grapes from the fruit bowl. ‘Oh, yes. Very pleasant, thank you.’
Violet exchanged a glance with Benedict. ‘I only wondered if perhaps this…improvement in mood…might have something to do with a young lady?’ she asked hopefully.
Anthony’s head shot up in horror. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
How could she possibly know about the woman in the park? Had those riders they had spotted nearby somehow known who he was and turned up at this very house to inform his mother of his activities for some bizarre reason?!
Violet put down her embroidery and smiled. ‘W-well…only that you said you were paying court at Gunter’s tea shop yesterday, with a Miss-’
Anthony interrupted her with relief. ‘Ah, yes. No, I’m afraid that was not a success,’ he said bluntly, and Violet’s smile fell. ‘But no matter. I will find my bride very shortly, do not worry.’
‘I am not worried,’ Violet reassured him, and a crease appeared on her forehead as she watched him carefully sat on the armchair across from her. ‘You do not need to rush into making a hasty decision, you know, dearest…’
‘I am aware of that,’ Anthony replied. ‘I am just being practical.’
‘Practical?’ Violet said, half-laughing as she raised her eyebrows at him in pity. ‘That is hardly a word one should use when wanting to seek a partner to spend the rest of their life with.’
Anthony closed his eyes. Not this again. Not now. Please. He’d been having such a pleasant morning.
‘It is just marriage, Mother,’ he said, trying to hide his exasperation.
At this, Violet’s face practically tore up in anguish. ‘Just marriage? My dear-’
‘I am afraid I have matters to attend to elsewhere,’ Anthony cut over her, leaping immediately to his feet. ‘I will bid you a good day, and I shall see you later for the ball.’
He barely gave Violet chance to respond; before she knew it, he had bid hurried farewells to his siblings – while also making sure to give Eloise a quick clap on the shoulder as some sort of haphazard gesture to wish her luck for her first ball tonight – and already scarpered out of the door.
Anthony raised his eyes to the heavens bitterly as he went outside and put on his top hat and coat while the footman readied his horse. His mother would never understand his logic surrounding his search for a bride, and he was tired of trying to reason with her. She just needed to let him get on with his business and trust that he was doing the right thing, for their family. Why didn’t she have faith in him?
He sighed as he thought back to that stimulating morning ride in the park merely a few hours ago, when all thoughts of marriage and wife-hunting had been completely purged from his mind.
‘I am afraid that is not possible! Not when I have a victory lap to enjoy!’
Anthony chuckled softly to himself as the woman’s laughter rang once more through his mind. He could vividly remember his very first sight of her across the hedge; those mischievous twinkling eyes, that self-satisfied smile, that confident tilt of her head. It was a sight he knew he would never forget. Why, oh why, hadn’t he found out who she was before they had parted ways? But then again, perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t know her name. It would be a dangerous thing, to associate with a woman who he could not deny he was attracted to. He needed to keep matters simple and business-like when engaging with young ladies of the ton this season, as difficult as that may be.
But at least he could look back on this morning with fondness. At least he would always remember his enchanting meeting with that mysterious, intriguing rider…all the while knowing that a part of him would keep hoping that that was not the end for his acquaintanceship with her…that deep down he prayed, despite knowing he shouldn’t, that they would in fact see each other again.