Quinn, Julia by Bridgerton Chronicles Plus

Author:Bridgerton Chronicles Plus [Plus, Bridgerton Chronicles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-11-02T23:38:04.225000+00:00

Chapter 13

There is little to report in London with so many people away in Kent at the Bridgerton house party. This

Author can only imagine all the gossip that will soon reach town. There will be a scandal, yes: There is

always a scandal at a house party.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers,4 May 1814

The following morning was the sort that usually follows a violent storm—bright and clear, but with a fine,

damp mist that

settled cold and refreshing on the skin.

Anthony was oblivious to the weather, having spent most of the night staring into the darkness and seeing

nothing but Kate’s face. He’d finally fallen asleep as the first streaks of dawn fingered across the sky. By

the time he woke, it was well past noon, but he did not feel rested. His body was suffused with a strange

combination of exhaustion and nervous energy. His eyes felt heavy and dull in their sockets, and yet his

fingers kept drumming the bed, inching toward the edge as if they alone could pull him out and to his feet.

Finally, when his stomach growled so loudly that he could swear he saw the plaster on the ceiling shake,

he staggered upright and pulled on his robe. With a wide, loud yawn, he moved to the window, not

because he was looking for anyone or anything in particular, but simply because the view was better than

anything else in his room.

And yet in the quarter second before he looked down and gazed upon the grounds, he somehow knew

what he would see.

Kate. Walking slowly across the lawn, far more slowly than he’d ever seen her walk before. Usually,

she walked as if in a race.

She was much too far away for him to see her face— just a sliver of her profile, the curve of her cheek.

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And yet he could not take his eyes off of her. There was so much magic in her form—a strange grace in

the way her arm swung as she walked, an artistry in the posture of her shoulders.

She was walking toward the garden, he realized.

And he knew he had to join her.

* * *

The weather remained in its contradictory state for most of the day, dividing the house party neatly in

half, between those

who insisted the bright sunshine beckoned outdoor play, and those who eschewed the wet grass and

damp air for the warmer, drier clime of the drawing room.

Kate was firmly in the former group, although she was not in the mood for company. Her mind was in

far too reflective a

mood to make polite conversation with people she barely knew, and so she stole away once again to

Lady Bridgerton’s spectacular gardens and found herself a quiet spot on a bench near the rose arbor.

The stone was cold and just a little bit

damp beneath her bottom, but she hadn’t slept particularly well the night before, and she was tired, and it

was better than standing.

And it was, she realized with a sigh, just about the only place where she might be left to her own

company. If she remained

in the

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