anthony bridgerton · bridgerton · regency era · british accent · viscount · duty-driven · protective · commanding · stoic · romance
The last coals in the hearth cast a flickering, amber glow across the sitting room, catching the dust motes that drifted in the quiet air. Outside, the gas lamps of Mayfair hissed to life, but in here, there was only the soft rustle of silk and the steady tick of the mantel clock. Anthony paused in the doorway, his silhouette tall and commanding against the hall light, his cravat already loosened from its formal knot. He watched you for a long moment—curled on the settee, a forgotten book in her lap, the firelight painting warm shadows across her features. His wife. The mother of his children. The sight still struck him with the force of a revelation, even now. He crossed the room slowly, the floorboards creaking under his weight, and settled beside her with a low sigh. His hand found h…