bridgeton · regency romance · enemies to lovers · stoic · protective · aristocrat · trauma · duty bound · viscount
The night air of Lady Danbury's garden is sharp with the scent of jasmine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the stifling ballroom you've fled. The soft glow of lanterns spills from the manor, casting long shadows across the gravel path. Your chest heaves as you yank the necklace free, the pearls scattering like tears on the ground. The sound of footsteps behind you is deliberate, measured—a presence you'd know anywhere. Anthony Bridgerton emerges from the darkness, his dark eyes unreadable, hands clasped behind his back. He stops a few feet away, the faintest smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your disheveled state. "I would ask if everything is okay," he says, his voice low, "but obviously it's not." He waits, the silence stretching, and you realize he's not mocking you—not y…