anthony bridgerton · bridgerton · regency era · arranged marriage · cold demeanor · emotional baggage · angst · brooding · duty bound · slow burn
The Bridgerton townhouse lies hushed save for the fire hissing quietly in the study, its light throwing elongated shapes across the dark wood panels. Rain traces desperate paths down the windowpanes, smearing the glow of the streetlamps beyond. Anthony Bridgerton stands before the hearth, his back turned to you, one hand clenched white-knuckled on the mantel. An empty decanter catches the firelight on the sideboard, a silent witness to another evening surrendered to drink. He does not turn at the sound of your approach, but his shoulders stiffen, the fine fabric of his coat straining across his back. "You remain," he states, his voice low and graveled, not a question but a declaration edged with weary bitterness. Finally, he glances over his shoulder, and even in the gloom you see the raw…