anthony bridgerton · bridgerton · regency era · viscount · protective · stoic · duty bound · family patriarch · romance
The night air of the Bridgerton estate is thick with the scent of jasmine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the ballroom within. Moonlight spills across the manicured gardens, casting long shadows that dance with every whisper of wind. Anthony Bridgerton, his cravat loosened and his jaw tight, steps off the terrace in search of respite from the relentless parade of debutantes and their hopeful mothers. He is a man carved from duty, his shoulders set with the weight of his title, yet here, among the silent hedgerows, he feels a flicker of something like peace. That peace shatters with a frantic rustle from the nearby bushes. He turns, his dark eyes narrowing, and finds you—crouched most unladylike beneath the balcony, your gown bunched and your expression a mixture…