Closer to midnight, when the rest of the house was already asleep and Kate was not far from it either, Anthony had scooched himself down on his usual spot with his cheek against her round belly. This night felt even more special to him than before, since it now finally seemed that the relationship between him and his unborn child was no longer one-sided. He found himself pressing his ear against her body and trying to listen carefully to something, although he did not even know what, perhaps some sort of gurgling noise he could try communicating even further with?
"Kate, can I lift up the hem of your nightgown so I can hear better?" Anthony wondered.
"Hear what? It is not like the child will read a fairytale back at you..." Kate muttered, half asleep already. "Fine, but do not touch my knickers..." She grunted before gradually beginning to breathe more slowly. Ever so carefully, Anthony lifted up the long hem of her nightgown over her belly, pressed his chin against Kate's warm bare skin and propped his pillow back against her chest.
"Much better." He smiled softly. Though it did not help with the hearing – since there was nothing in particular to be heard – it nevertheless felt a lot more intimate. Then he cursed silently between his teeth when he realised that the fairytale book was lying far out of his reach on the nightstand, while he had just found such a perfect spot. "Well, it does not matter actually, I want to celebrate this special day by telling you one of my own stories..." He began to murmur into Kate's belly. "This is a Christmas story and it is about when your uncle Simon and I decided to stay at Oxford during the holidays." He smirked and realised at that precise moment that apart from this year's Christmas, that had been the only one he had not spent with his mother. He suddenly felt a bit ashamed that he had not even missed her today, though he knew that Violet would have sobbed as much as Mary over feeling the baby's movements. But to be honest, Christmas with Violet Bridgerton could be.... Well, quite tiresome. She was always fussing around like a whirlwind, trying so hard to make everything perfect that Anthony honestly believed she completely forgot to enjoy herself at all during the holidays. Be that as it may, she was Stanton's, Daphne's and Simon's problem now. "Yes, back to the story..." Anthony remembered and cast a quick glance at Kate to make sure she was fast asleep. Not that this was one of those Oxford stories she preferably should not hear, but he felt like he did not want to share it right now with anyone else than his child. "And you are actually sort of in this story as well, dear son. You will soon hear what I mean. So, it was Christmas during our second year at Oxford..."
***
Oxford, December 1805
"Are you absolutely, absolutely sure you want to stay here with me?" Simon asked his friend in a doubtful tone. "The last carriages are just leaving for London, so it is not too late yet. It truly might get quite dull here..."
"Yes, I am absolutely sure, dear Basset!" Anthony grinned. "My mother is a menace around Christmas, I would much rather stay here with you." He said firmly, as they walked down the stairs from their room towards the dining hall. Simon felt a throb of guilt in his heart, surely Anthony would have preferred to spend Christmas with his family, but he was simply too kind to leave Simon alone at Oxford. It was Christmas Eve already and Simon's governess had fallen ill, Lady Danbury had already joined some other fancy lady's Christmas party and since spending the holidays with his horrid father was not an option, Simon had decided to stay at the university instead. Now he regretted that he had not lied and told Anthony that he would travel home on the morrow, but he did also feel very grateful that his friend had immediately announced he would stay as well. In addition to that, Simon suspected that Christmas at Aubrey Hall would be hard on Anthony after his father had passed, since he had told of all the wonderful traditions they used to have with their family, but now they must have seemed rather pointless without him. Not that Anthony would have said it out loud, but Simon had in the last year or so learned to read his friend well enough to understand what was going on under his rakish façade. His eagerness to stay at Oxford could not simply be out of affection for his best friend.
"Gracious God, I have never seen the dining hall this empty!" Simon exclaimed as they entered the vast hall filled with large long tables, but only a handful of students were sitting by them and otherwise the hall was completely empty, except for a waiter laying out different kinds of Christmas dishes on the buffet table.
"Me neither." Anthony agreed, grabbed a silver tray and a porcelain platter before beginning to scoop up food on it. Simon followed silently in his footsteps, staring at all the food and thinking about how different his Christmases must have been from Anthony's and all the other students'. He had mostly spent the holidays alone with his governess as a child, sometimes his godmother Agatha had joined, but not once had his father even sent him a damned Christmas card. Simon threw a piece of ham on his platter a bit too angrily and received a curious look from Anthony.
"That pig looks quite dead already, I am sure you do not need to kill it any further." He chuckled as they sat down by one of the long empty tables. "Or is there something else on your mind, something other than your apparent dislike towards innocent swine?"
"Christmas just makes me a bit... Sad, I guess." Simon replied bluntly and jammed his fork into that same mistreated piece of ham.
"I thought birthdays made you sad. And Easter, the summer vacation and New Year's Eve too..." Anthony began enumerating while pouring himself a glass of wine.
"Thank you, I got your point." Simon grunted. "I have never been fond of any kinds of holidays, then." He muttered and poured himself a glass of wine as well.
"You just have not had the right company yet." Anthony smirked and raised a toast. "Merry Christmas, brother." He grinned and clinked his glass against Simon's, who felt all warm and fuzzy inside for having been included into Anthony Bridgerton's brothers. Even if they were in fact quite many, Simon knew there was no bigger honour Anthony could bestow upon a man than calling him his brother.
"Merry Christmas, Anthony." Simon smiled a bit abashed back at him. Anthony sipped on his wine and began to study his friend opposite him with his dark eyes in a way that made Simon suddenly feel very uncomfortable. No wonder all the young ladies were like molten wax in front of those eyes... If Anthony had asked Simon to stand up on the table and sing Christmas carols for the few students present he would have done it in an instant, even though just the thought of it horrified him so much he felt a chill all the way into his bones. But instead, Anthony asked him something that was almost worse.
"What is it about holidays then, is it because of your father that you hate them?" He queried irritatingly innocently. Simon had thought the reason would be obvious.
"Yes." He replied shortly. "I do not need some silly special occasions to remind me of how little anyone cares about me." He added sourly. Anthony's face grew grim when he realised what his question had caused, but Simon stood up before he had a chance to apologise. "I forgot to take a knife." He grunted emotionlessly and marched back towards the buffet table. On his way he almost bumped into Lord Fife who was hurrying towards the exterior door, dragging a huge travelling trunk behind him.
"Oh, Basset! Sorry, I almost knocked you out with this wretched thing. I could not find a single damned servant in any corridor..." Fife excused himself in an annoyed tone.
"I believe they have already left to celebrate the holidays as well." Simon pointed out.
"Are you not going to leave at all?" Fife wondered. "And neither Bridgerton?" He peeked over Simon's shoulder at the table where a grumpy-looking Anthony poked at some peas on his plate.
"No, we are staying here for the holidays." Simon replied dryly. He did not know how Fife had insulted Anthony last year and ended up breaking his nose, but he nevertheless disliked the man. Simon also felt that Fife always sneered with his nowadays slightly crooked nose at him for no apparent reason.
"Strange, I would have thought that Bridgerton wants to spend the holidays with his family, but, well... I guess I should not be surprised." Fife laughed a bit contemptuously.
"Whatever do you mean?" Simon enquired sharply, tensing up.
"Well, naturally Bridgerton wants to stay here with you. He even smashed my damned nose for making a minor notion about you, Basset..." Fife guffawed. "A notion that maybe could have been understood as a diminutive insult."
"About me...?" Simon did not understand at all. Fife had insulted Anthony back then, at least according to Anthony himself, not Simon.
"Oh! You did not know." Fife looked a bit ashamed. "Well... I think, or thought last year that you were a bit... Odd. So, I happened to mention that to Bridgerton and thus ended up breaking my nose at the pub."
"I... I see..." Simon muttered in shock.
"Well, merry Christmas, Basset! I must be on my way." Fife blurted out and trudged away with his trunk. Simon stood still there for a moment, not sure what he was supposed to feel. Anthony had punched someone in the face, for insulting Simon and not Anthony himself. If this was not an obvious sign of someone truly caring for him, which Simon had so painfully longed for all his previous Christmases, he did not know what was. Almost in some sort of haze Simon walked the rest of the way to the buffet table, grabbed the knife he had set out to get and slowly walked back to Anthony.
"Basset..." Anthony took a deep sigh, put down his fork and looked Simon straight in the eyes. "I understand why you value your father's opinion about you so highly. Believe me, I do. I would have done anything to gain my own father's approval, which I luckily also got. Except for when I was fighting with my brothers... But your father is not the only person in this world, just because that atrocious man happened to sire you does not mean that his opinion would somehow define you. It does not. There are others as well! Your governess and Lady Danbury and our friends here at Oxford who care about you. And I care about you, Basset. Very much." He declared quite seriously.
"I know..." Simon replied almost in a whisper, but the corner of his lips twitched slightly. "I know that you do, Bridgerton."
"Good." Anthony smiled at him. "Are we going to drink or what?" He grinned and poured both of them more wine, like he always did when things were getting a tad too emotional.
"Yes." Simon smirked and took a big gulp of his wine. "And enough about my Christmases, tell me about your favourite Christmas tradition." He urged with a smile. So, Anthony told him how every Christmas they drove a cart or a sleigh – it was always better if it was a sleigh – to the woods near Aubrey Hall and picked out the tallest and thickest spruce they could find. Anthony was the one who had the honour to do the chopping ever since his sixteenth birthday, but it had still been his father who drove the horse into the woods and then raced it back home at full speed, with snow and tree needles flying around, accompanied by the chime of sleigh bells and the delighted screams of the younger Bridgerton siblings. Anthony had always sat next to his father on the driver's bench, scouting behind his back and yelled out if Benedict, Colin, Daphne, Eloise or Francesca had fallen off the sleigh, which apparently had happened quite often. Gregory had always been too young to participate and Hyacinth... Well, their father never even got to meet Hyacinth.
"That was always the best part. Then there was of course the decorating of it, all the food and the presents... But the Christmas tree hunt, that was certainly the best thing." Anthony smiled melancholically and stared into the candle flickering on the table. "Last year the butler had to get the tree for us, none of us wanted to do it..." He then sighed, confirming Simon's suspicions over why he had not wished to travel home for Christmas.
"But it sounds like a wonderful tradition, perhaps you can continue with it sometime in the future!" Simon suggested in an encouraging tone. "You will have fun again and remember your father in a happy way."
"Perhaps... I guess that Christmas traditions are the sort of thing you do not care much about at our age, but when you have children of your own they might become meaningful again." Anthony pondered, twirling his wine glass in his hand.
"So you are planning to have children, then?" Simon wondered and chewed on some ham.
"It is not so much that I am planning, but it is obviously my duty as a viscount to produce an heir." Anthony replied and cast a curious look at Simon. "As is yours, as a future duke."
"I will never father any children." Simon immediately declared.
"What...?" Anthony almost choked on a potato.
"I said, I will never father any children. The cursed Hastings bloodline will die with me." He repeated himself, quite venomously, with pure hatred dripping from every word.
"Oh..." Anthony looked confused. "Do you have some sort of... Condition, preventing you from doing so?" He wondered and cast a quick glimpse towards Simon's lower body. "I have indeed noticed that you are a bit shy around girls, but I did not think that – "
"I am perfectly capable of fathering a child, I just do not want to do it." Simon interrupted him, a bit offended. Now Anthony looked even more confused.
"But it is your duty to – " He began earnestly.
"I do not have any duties regarding my family." Simon snarled. "I owe nothing to my father."
"Fine..." Anthony exhaled and stared at his food instead. "But do you honestly not long for having a son? I do not give a damn about which woman I will marry, but I have always dreamed about having a son. All the things I could teach him and all the adventures we would go out on together..." Anthony prattled on with a dreamy look in his eyes. Simon could surely understand how it would suit Anthony's vanity to have a little mini version of himself. Equally clever, equally handsome and equally good at everything – except shooting.
"Wait, hold on..." This time Simon was the one being confused. "How can you say that you do not care about which woman you marry? Obviously you should marry out of love."
"No." Anthony snapped back surprisingly vexedly, like Simon had suggested he should marry a cow, or something equally ridiculous or unthinkable. "I will not fall in love with any woman. Not now, not ever. That leads only to heartbreak and pain."
"But – " Simon tried to chime in.
"No buts. Or, well, I guess she should have a pretty enough butt, a pleasing face and suitable manners for a viscountess, but apart from that she could be totally mediocre and that is enough for me. I shall lead a perfectly convenient life and have three, or maybe four children. Five, at most." Anthony presented his plans as matter-of-factly as if he was designing a group task during one of their lectures.
"But that is horrible...! Even I want a love match, if I ever get married!" Simon burst out.
"Oh, is that so? And where are you supposed to find this future duchess unwilling to have any children?" Anthony pointed out quite coldly and waved his fork challengingly at Simon.
"Good point..." Simon admitted. "Perhaps I will find her from the same place where you find this woman who is willing to jump into a loveless marriage." He sneered at his friend.
"Humph, for a chance to be a viscountess, they are all willing to jump on me." Anthony declared with a smug grin and had another sip of wine. "It is the son I want from my wife, nothing more. Or... Perhaps a couple of sons and at least one daughter."
"Fine. In any case you will love your children, which is good for them..." Simon sighed.
"Yes, I will love them all abundantly." Anthony replied and scooped up the last remains of his meal. "And my wife will be quite content with my making of those children, so all is well." He added with an insinuating chuckle.
"Uh-huh." Simon smirked at him. "Mark my words, one day you will meet some woman who will turn your word upside down. A woman who has to be as hard-headed, sharp-witted, competitive and exacting as yourself in order to put up with you, but surely there has to be at least one of that kind somewhere in this wide world... And when you do meet her and you are finally on your knees in front of her, begging her to love you back as much as you love her, I want you to think of your friend Basset, remember this moment and hear my voice inside your head telling you that 'I told you so'." He grinned as they stood up to leave.
"Slight chance of that..." Anthony guffawed. "And I am not exacting." He added with a huff.
"You are the most exacting person I have ever met. And I was raised by a bloody tyrant..." Simon laughed and ducked as Anthony tried to swing his tray at him. Later that evening they exchanged their presents to each other in their room. Anthony had bought Simon a pocket flask of his own, since Simon always kept borrowing his, a beautiful silvery piece engraved with the text 'To my Basserton brother, your faithful companion in mischief, Anthony Bridgerton'. Simon had fought really hard to keep his tears at bay, as he could not remember anyone ever having given him such a lovely and thoughtful present, although his governess and godmother surely had tried their best. Anthony was equally touched by receiving an old pistol from Simon, 'so that he could practise to become a better shot'. The thing was an old Hastings heirloom Simon had gotten mailed to him by his father as a gift when he had started his studies at Oxford, but Simon wanted nothing to do with the damned weapon and thought that it suited Anthony better in all of its delicate pomposity. Little did Simon know that Anthony would a decade later point that pistol at him, a deliberate choice from Anthony's side, claiming that there was some poetic justice to it all.
***
The morning of Christmas Eve dawned as crisp and cold as the previous day. Kate woke up early, but still Anthony had apparently managed to sneak away from their bed even earlier and without her noticing. She put on a deep forest green and golden velvety dress that suited the day perfectly before setting out for breakfast downstairs. In the corridor outside the bedrooms she was met by a surprisingly cheerfully grinning Mrs Wilson, who also had a strange wily expression on her face.
"Oh, Lady Kate! His lordship requests your presence at the front yard." She smirked, still uncharacteristically cunningly.
"Alright then..." Kate replied with a wondering smile. She quickly put on a fur coat over her dress, hurried down the stairs and out through the large exterior doors. As she reached the terrace she was met by a sight that made her burst out in heartfelt laughter. "Well, well, well... How do I get the feeling that I have already lived this moment? I believe the French call it 'déjà vu'." She laughed as she watched Anthony holding a horse with a huge red gift bow wrapped around its neck. Then she gasped and clapped her hands on her mouth when she realised which horse he was holding. "Is... Is that...?"
"Yes, Kate, this is High Flyer. High Flyer, this is your proud new owner, Viscountess Kathani Bridgerton." Anthony smiled broadly. The horse seemed to give out an approving snort while looking at Kate with its big beautiful eyes. Kate walked towards the horse with unsteady legs, reached out her hand and ever so carefully caressed its dark head, as if she could not believe the stallion was actually there.
"Anthony..." Kate breathed out and looked at him instead. "How on earth did you... Oh." She paused and a surprised grin spread across her face. "Anthony Bridgerton, did you trade your mother for a horse with the Duke of Stanton...?" She burst out in laughter again.
"Well... " Anthony sighed deeply. "You made it quite clear that this is not just any horse, you could not stop talking about him after you came home from Stanton Manor. And, I believe you said that with a horse like this you could start your own horse racing business... So, now you have that kind of horse." He smiled softly. "Dearest Kate, I want you to know that I support you with all my heart in every goal and dream you want to achieve in your life. If you want to breed racehorses, do it. At least it is a much better career than being a radical spokesperson for women's rights, so I –"
"Oh, Anthony...!" Kate cried out and collapsed into his arms so suddenly that High Flyer yanked up his head nervously, but luckily Anthony had a good grip of the reins. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..." She sobbed with tears of joy running from her eyes.
"You are... So welcome, darling, I wish... For nothing more... Than seeing you this happy..." Anthony tried to say while she was showering him with kisses. "And..." He added and pushed her slightly away from him. "I also want to point out that I did not trade my mother for a horse. Yes, my one condition for giving my blessing to Stanton was that he had to sell High Flyer to me, but I did also pay an enormous amount of money for this damned horse, so it better make you happy." He laughed and looped his arms around her.
"Oh, he does! He does make me happier than ever..." Kate sniffed and wiped away her joyous tears. Then she turned back towards the horse while Anthony had still his arms wrapped around her, which made him press his body against her back instead. "You are a gorgeous, gorgeous horse, High Flyer..." She exhaled and stroked its silky muzzle, while Anthony leaned his cheek against her shoulder. "You are going to make me so gratified, perhaps even rich."
"You are already rich." Anthony grinned and kissed her neck.
"Yes, but it is your money. I wish to make my own money as well." Kate pointed out and took the reins from his hand. "Can I take him to the stables?"
"Of course, it is your horse. You can do whatever you want with him." Anthony replied with a smile. Kate walked the black bay horse around on the yard in a few large circles, just to admire him, before heading towards the stables. Anthony followed her and tried to convince her to leave the horse with the stablemaster, but Kate insisted on brushing and feeding the horse herself.
"Perhaps I should have waited until after our child was born to give you this horse..." Anthony muttered as he was leaning over the door of High Flyer's box and watching Kate struggle to squat down and brush the horse's legs.
"I am fine, stop fussing." She snarled and fought hard to get up again.
"You will probably go into labour in this damned box one day." Anthony stated dryly.
"That is entirely possible, yes." Kate replied while running a comb through High Flyer's dark mahogany mane.
"Well, at least I am glad that you like your Christmas present..." He smirked and leaned his cheek on his arms that were crossed over the box door.
"As if it had been an option that I would not have." Kate grinned back at him and patted the stallion's muscular neck. "But I thought that we were not going to exchange presents until tomorrow?"
"I know, but I could not risk one more day of you stomping into the stables and finding him here... You already wanted to take Rob in yesterday and I barely managed to convince you that I should do it instead and you should head back into the warmth." Anthony smirked. Old Rob, who had been selected as the new stallion's neighbour since he was a gelding, stopped his hay munching and bumped Anthony's shoulder with his large muzzle as he heard his own name. Anthony opened his box door and felt with his hand through the big workhorse's muscles and hairy legs. "Are you sore from yesterday, you old bugger..." He spoke softly to the horse.
"Do not call him an old bugger, he was so brisk while fetching the tree!" Kate complained from the other box. Anthony leaned against the Ardennais' broad shoulder and caressed its huge head.
"I believe it would be more common to have a Shire as a draught horse, but my father always loved French horses. We used to have a gigantic grey Percheron as well." He reminisced with a blissful smile. Kate looked at him with a fond smile between the bars that separated the boxes from each other. "I believe he thought they looked knightly and mediaeval, or something... He seemed to be almost obsessed with old stories of knights in shining armour when I was a boy." Anthony finished and patted Rob on his chunky neck.
"I can think of someone else who seems to be equally obsessed with reading fairy tales to their child..." Kate grinned at him. Anthony smirked back at her and closed the door of Rob's box behind him.
"Are you done with your horse soon? We still need to eat both breakfast and lunch before heading to the church..." Anthony complained as he was leaning over High Flyer's box door again. Kate let out a sigh and cast one more longing, but blissful look towards her new thoroughbred before following Anthony back to the house, holding his hand and nearly skipping of joy.
***
This time they took out the two big family carriages when heading down to the village, since the roads were not as much snowed in as the fields and the forests. Kate, Anthony and his three brothers were propped into one carriage, while the other one carried Lady Danbury, Lady Mary, Eloise, Francesca and Hyacinth. The road into the village was lined with countless torches and the village itself was so beautifully lit and decorated that Kate gasped out loud when Anthony helped her down from the carriage. Although it was not that late, the evening was already pitch dark, making all the torches and candles shine even more mesmerizingly. Every door was decorated with a festive wreath, a huge Christmas tree stood in the middle of the market square and the cemetery around the church looked like it was covered in countless little twinkling stars. It seemed like everyone from the entire village had gathered outside of the church and they were all equally delighted to see the Bridgertons.
"Viscountess Bridgerton!" The baker's wife was the first one to greet Kate. She was holding one child in her arms and two more were clinging to her legs. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Mrs Davies." Kate smiled back at her. "And merry Christmas to you too, John, Hannah and little Jack." She greeted the children with an even broader smile. The oldest boy shook her hand eagerly, but the younger ones curled tighter against their mother.
"Oh, you flatter us by remembering the names of all these little brats, viscountess..." Mrs Davies laughed, before curtsying deeply at Anthony who had just joined them.
"Of course I remember their names! Your children are more important to me than most members of high society." Kate smirked with a wink of her eye. She had indeed visited the Davies' bakery quite often during these past weeks, since their salty and greasy minced meat pies had been one of her worst pregnancy cravings, even though she had not particularly liked them before. Anthony wrapped one arm around Kate's waist and greeted the baker's wife with a warm smile.
"Mrs Davies, is everything well with you and your husband?" He enquired politely.
"Yes! Very well thank you, your lordship." Mrs Davies replied and curtsied again. Kate thought that she must have been used to carrying heavy sacks of flour, since she had no problem curtsying neatly with a toddler in her arms. "The thatcher you so generously sent us fixed our leaking roof just before the autumn rains began."
"I am glad to hear that." Anthony smiled. "Perhaps next time I will come and fix your roof myself! My wife has taught me how to wield a hammer and we are planning to stay at Aubrey Hall for some time now, when our child is about to be born."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Mrs Davies smirked. "Did you hear that, Jack? Next summer you might be able to play with a little lord." She murmured to her youngest child. Kate smiled softly at them and after exchanging one more 'merry Christmas' with the baker's family, she and Anthony did the same with the miller, the smith, the butcher, the shopkeeper, the dressmaker, the farmers and all the other villagers. When the viscount and viscountess finally made it inside the church, the rest of the Bridgertons and their guests were already seated in the first rows of the beautiful old building. Kate and Anthony squeezed in between Hyacinth and Gregory, in order to prevent them from starting to quarrel with each other if they grew tired in the middle of the ceremony. Kate smirked to herself as she noticed that the vicar's adolescent son seemed to be casting hungry looks at Eloise. She did not even seem to notice the boy, though, as she was surprisingly eagerly studying the bible in her hands, so Kate turned back towards her husband instead.
"Oh, there we stood and vowed to love each other until death do us apart..." She sighed and nodded towards the altar, before leaning her head against Anthony's shoulder.
"So we did." He smiled and gave her elegant hairdo a soft kiss.
"How long does this take?" Hyacinth whined.
"It takes as long as it takes." Anthony replied dryly, just as the organs began to blare out 'O Holy Night' and a choir of young children accompanied it. The song had never been one of Kate's favourites, but this time all the lyrics about a long awaited child sank straight into her heart and by the first chorus she was already weeping like a waterfall. Anthony cast a fond look at her and took her hand in his. Either the loud music or Kate's stirred up emotions seemed to have woken up the baby, so she placed Anthony's hand on her belly instead, making his eyes tear up as well. Kate caressed the back of his warm hand as the priest began to preach about the miracle of Christmas and the joy it should bring to every Christian heart. Kate did not care much about his blabbering, but enjoyed the atmosphere in the old church immensely. It was filled to its rims with blissfully smiling village people, surrounded by their beloved families, making the large hall almost radiate from all the love. Instead, Kate said a silent thankful prayer to her own gods for everything she had been blessed with this past year. Her husband and the family that came with him, obviously their child, but also an honourable mention for High Flyer and the fact that Anthony had finally approved his mother's new matrimony. Then she was crying again, as did Lady Mary apparently, when the priest spoke beautifully about a mother's love and devotion for her child and finally even Lady Danbury was in tears when everyone was singing 'O Come, All Ye Faithful'. Eloise glared at the other women like they had lost their minds, since Francesca was obviously also moved by the beautiful music, so Kate cast an apologetic smile towards her. Kate also smirked and nodded discreetly towards the vicar's son, who was still staring at Eloise, making the girl wrinkle her nose in disgust and cross her arms over her chest in her usual defiant way.
After the ceremony the Bridgertons took some candles to the enormous family crypt standing on top of a small hill in the middle of the snowy cemetery. There lay all the previous eight viscounts and their viscountesses, except for Violet of course, who was still very much alive. Lady Mary, Lady Danbury and Kate stood a bit further away as all the seven Bridgerton children lit several candles both for their father, grandparents and other predecessors inside of the cold, gloomy crypt. Kate studied the white marble faces of the former viscounts and tried to find some resemblance to Anthony in all of them. They all seemed like a terribly serious and grumpy lot, apart from Lord Edmund, whose face had been carved into the stone with a slight, surprisingly realistic smirk on his lips.
"Here I will end up one day as well..." Kate muttered. "Though apparently I am not worth a statue."
"Kate, do not be so grim..." Lady Mary scolded her. "This place already gives me the chills."
"I know... I do not want to end up here. Perhaps we can be buried in our puddle of mud, close to Lord Edmund's memorial." Kate replied, then she walked away from the other women and lit a candle for Anthony's father as well. "I am so sorry that I never met you, but I am ever grateful for your wonderful son and that you gave him such a beautiful example of how to be a fantastic father... Merry Christmas, Lord Edmund. If there is Christmas, wherever you are..." She whispered to the slightly smirking statuette. Apparently Kate stared at the marble bust for so long that Anthony had already made his round through all eight Viscount Bridgertons, had sneaked up behind her back and was now embracing her softly.
"I hope you are not telling him anything unflattering about me..." He smirked and turned her around to face himself instead of his father's stone face.
"I have nothing unflattering to say about you, Anthony Bridgerton." Kate purred and kissed him in front of all the dead viscounts. "Unless you want me to spend my eternity in this dreary place, in that case I do despise you..." She added sourly.
"Where do you want to be buried then? Next to the stables, probably?" Anthony grinned.
"That is one option, yes, as long as you are there with me." She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Or, perhaps we could be buried in our pall-mall mud puddle."
"Now that is a good idea, I would love to spend an eternity as joyful as I was laying in that puddle with you." He smirked, much like the statue of his father, and kissed her again.
"Are you two quite done with upsetting all our forefathers with your smooching? The rest of us would want to continue with our Christmas Eve!" Benedict complained from the door, so Anthony grabbed Kate's hand with a smile and led her out from the crypt.
The rest of the Christmas Eve and the following Christmas Day were as filled with good food, mulled wine, warm feeling, presents, music, reading and chocolate as everyone had hoped for. Francesca played probably every Christmas song there was on her piano, while Anthony, Colin and Benedict gave an astounding three-melody performance of 'Silent Night' and together with Mr and Mrs Wilson the eight Bridgertons and their two guests sang 'Twelve days of Christmas' where everyone had their own verse. Kate had followed Miss Jane Austen's suggestion and bought Anthony her new novel, Emma, as a Christmas present, in addition to a collection of Austen's entire work consisting of Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park and of course Pride and Prejudice. Eloise had somehow figured out where Miss Austen lived, so Kate had mailed her the books and asked if she possibly could sign them. Anthony's face had melted into a happy and surprised smile as his own copy of Pride and Prejudice was signed by the author with the words 'To Viscount Bridgerton, who according to his loving wife is quite like Mr Darcy'. Ultimately, Kate was even more happy and surprised when Anthony actually did read all four books during the holidays. She had also bought Eloise her own copy of Emma, so that they did not have to fight with Anthony over the right to read it first. Benedict had surprised them all by painting a large portrait of Kate and Anthony, without even having had them sit as models. This time even Anthony had got quite emotional and had to admit that Benedict had managed to capture both of them perfectly on the canvas. Instead of having the couple look at the spectator, as portraits usually did, he had painted them looking at each other with the same look Benedict explained he had seen on every breakfast, every dinner and every afternoon in the drawing room, declaring that it thus had not been that difficult to paint, even without having them modelling for him. Kate could no longer remember how many times she had burst into tears during that Christmas due to different reasons, but when she saw the painting she did it again and embraced Benedict so tightly that he almost could not breathe. The portrait was hung in the drawing room, so everyone who entered Aubrey Hall could thereafter bask in the unique affection shared by the 9th Viscount Bridgerton and his beloved viscountess.