“By the following morning, Anthony was drunk. By afternoon, he was hungover.His head was pounding, his ears were ringing, and his brothers, who had been surprised to discover himin such a state attheir club, were talking far too loudly.Anthony put his hands over his ears and groaned.Everyone was talking far too loudly.“Kate boot you out of the house?” Colin asked, grabbing a walnut from a large pewter dish in the middletheir table andsplitting it open with a viciously loud crack.Anthony lifted his head just far enough to glare at him.Benedict watched his brother with raised brows and the vaguest hint of a smirk. “She definitely bootedhim out,” he said to Colin. “Hand me one of those walnuts, will you?”Colin tossed one across the table. “Do you want the crackers as well?”Benedict shook his head and grinned as he held up a fat, leather-bound book. “Much more satisfying tosmash them.”“Don’t,” Anthony bit out, his hand shooting out to grab the book, “even think about it.”“Ears a bit sensitive this afternoon, are they?”If Anthony had had a pistol, he would have shot them both, hang the noise.“If I might offer you a piece of advice?” Colin said, munching on his walnut.“You might not,” Anthony replied. He looked up. Colin was chewing with his mouth open. As this hadbeen strictly forbidden while growing up in their household, Anthony could only deduce that Colin wasdisplaying such poor manners only to make more noise. “Close your damned mouth,” he muttered.Colin swallowed, smacked his lips, and took a sip of his tea to wash it all down. “Whatever you did,apologize for it. I know you, and I’m getting to know Kate, and knowing what I know—”“What the hell is he talking about?” Anthony grumbled.“I think,” Benedict said, leaning back in his chair, “that he’s telling you you’re an ass.”“Just so!” Colin exclaimed.Anthony just shook his head wearily. “It’s more complicated than you think.”“It always is,” Benedict said, with sincerity so false it almost managed to sound sincere.“When you two idiots find women gullible enough to actually marry you,” Anthony snapped, “then youmay presume tooffer me advice. But until then ...shut up.”Colin looked at Benedict. “Think he’s angry?”Benedict quirked a brow. “That or drunk.”Colin shook his head. “No, not drunk. Not anymore, at least. He’s clearly hungover.”“Which would explain,” Benedict said with a philosophical nod, “why he’s so angry.”Anthony spread one hand over his face and pressed hard against his temples with his thumb and middlefinger. “God above,”he muttered. ‘‘What would it take to get you two to leave me alone?”“Go home, Anthony,” Benedict said, his voice surprisingly gentle.”

“Anthony Bridgerton leaned back in his leather chair,and then announced, "I'm thinking about getting married."Benedict Bridgerton, who had been indulging in a habit his mother detested—tipping his chair drunkenly on the back two legs—fell over.Colin Bridgerton started to choke.Luckily for Colin, Benedict regained his seat with enough time to smack him soundly on the back, sending a green olive sailing across the table.It narrowly missed Anthony's ear.”

“But if he had indeed blushed-and his cheeks did feel a touch warm-neither of his brothers saw it, because they didn't say anything, and if there was anything in life as certain as, say, the sun rising in the east,it was that a Bridgerton never passed up the opportunity to tease and torment another Bridgerton."She's been talking about Penelope Featherington nonstop," Colin said with a scowl. "I tell you, I've known the girl since we were both in short pants. Er, since I was in short pants, at least. She was in..." He scowled some more, because both his brothers were laughing at him. "She was in whatever it is that young girls wear.""Frocks?" Anthony supplied helpfully."Petticoats?" was Benedict's suggestion. "The point is," Colin said forcefully, "that I have known her forever, and I can assure you I am not likely to fall in love with her."Anthony turned to Benedict and said, "They'll be married within a year.Mark my words."Colin crossed his arms. "Anthony!""Maybe two," Benedict said. "He's young yet.""Unlike you," Colin retorted. "Why am I besiged by Mother, I wonder? Good God, you're thirty-one-""Thirty," Benedict snapped."Regardless, one would think you'd be getting the brunt of it.”

“His mouth captured hers, trying to show her with his kiss what he was still learning to express in words. He loved her. He worshipped her. He'd walk across fire for her. He——still had the audience of her three brothers.Slowly breaking the kiss, he turned his face to the side. Anthony, Benedict, and Colin were still standing in the foyer. Anthony was studying the ceiling, Benedict was pretending to inspect his fingernails, and Colin was staring quite shamelessly.”

“And you, Lord Bridgerton," she replied in a tone that could have frozen champagne, "are almost as handsome as your brother."Colin snorted again, only this time it sounded as if he were being strangled."Are you all right?" Miss Sheffield asked."He's fine," Anthony barked.She ignored him, keeping her attention on Colin. "Are you certain?"Colin nodded furiously. 'Tickle in my throat.""Or perhaps a guilty conscience?" Anthony suggested.Colin turned deliberately from his brother to Kate. "I think I might need another glass of lemonade," he gasped."Or maybe," said Anthony, "something stronger. Hemlock, perhaps?”

“Where is he? Bridgerton!" he bellowed.Three chestnut heads swiveled in his direction. Simon stomped across the grass, murder in his eyes. "I meant the idiot Bridgerton.""That, I believe," Anthony said mildly, tilting his chin toward Colin, "would refer to you.”