A long time ago, after I posted my Neddy learns about Anthony’s Dad Lore drabble, I got an anon ask for more “grown ass Kanthony”. I can’t find the ask now and this soooo late, but I hope you still enjoy some geriatric Kanthony!!!
Anthony couldn’t quite remember how it started. He didn’t know when he began collecting them like tokens. The creases next to Kate’s eyes deepening when she smiled, the hints of grey peaking out as he ran his fingers through her soft luscious hair. Signs of a life well lived, a happy one, a long one. And he collected each bit, every time he managed to catch a glimpse, he stored them in his heart, to thank the lord, the universe, or whatever divine entity had granted him the privilege of not just growing old, but growing old with Kate.
Once upon a time, before Kate, when his life was just somehow… less, less vibrant, less joyful, less worth living, he remembered panicking upon finding a singular strand of grey hair sprouting right at the crown of his head. It had seemed like an ugly reminder that the finish line was approaching and he was not fast enough to outrun it. He did not have his affairs in order, the arrangements for the estates were still incomplete and his plans for his tenants were still unfinished.
But now, much like everything in his life after Kate, including his own self, it was different. Nowadays, the white hair was an excuse for him to tease his youngest son that his mischief was turning his father grey. Every ache was an excuse for his daughter to offer to kiss it better. Every ache was an excuse for his oldest to playfully rib him. Signs of a life well lived.
However, he still knew that his wife carried them off much more gracefully.
Which is why when he came upon Kate laid down in the middle of the day, with a physician at her bedside, he felt the once familiar fear creep through him, numbing him from fingers to his toes, chilling his heart. He couldn’t help but wonder if his gratitude had come across as gloating and now Kate was being punished for it. He felt frozen, unable to move, step over the threshold of his bed chamber and face whatever grotesque reality he met there.
His eyes were trailing frantically around the room when his gaze collided with Kate’s. The hum of panic in his brain cut off abruptly.
Because his wife was blushing. A fascinating shade of purple under the warm brown of her skin. He had seen it before but each time, he still felt as fascinated as he had the first time he’d seen it.
A few weeks after their wedding, after many letters to Mary and an unreasonable amount of visits to an ambassador from India, he had finally learnt to say I love you in Kate’s native tongue of tamil. One day, as they lazed around their favourite drawing room at Aubrey Hall, after supper, he’d said it, rather abruptly, clumsily forming the words just as he’d practiced. And then Kate had giggled, the sweetest little laugh he’d ever heard, flushed that beautiful hue of purple he would swear was his favourite colour till the day he died, and, buried her face in his shoulder. He felt thrilled, fascinated, enchanted. He finally understood the concept of eureka his philosophy professor at Oxford had tried so hard to teach him.
Later, when his chest was no longer so puffed with pride that his waistcoat was in imminent danger of bursting open, Kate would tell him that it felt more intense when he said it in tamil, excessive in its devotion. And he’d rush to assure her that he meant it in an excessively devoted and besotted manner, and then Kate would smile in a way that made her eyes shine and made her lips look kissable.
Shaking off that pleasant memory of one of the best days of his life, he blinked at Kate.
The physician, a crotchety old man who’d tended to all the Bridgertons at Aubrey Hall, for many years now, simply cleared his throat, bowed to him and walked out with remarkable speed. Momentarily distracted from Kate, Anthony frowned at his retreating figure.
But then as always, he turned back to Kate. Who was now smiling a secret smile at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“You’re going to have to buy 50 more dolls to keep things fair ”
And just like that Anthony’s list of signs of a life well-lived, his forever with Kate, grew exponentially longer.
titsay
theartofmadeline
jbbartram-illu
turnnoffyourmind
