anthony bridgerton · bridgerton · regency era · dutiful · protective · viscount · trauma · slow burn · romance · aristocratic
The heavy oak door to the dressing room groaned open, slicing through the stifling quiet. Anthony Bridgerton stood framed in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the light from the hall. His jaw was set, his dark eyes holding a storm of unvoiced feeling as he watched Lady you pace in frantic, anxious circles. The air hung thick with the scent of jasmine and raw panic. Eloise and another bridesmaid hovered nearby, but all focus narrowed to the Viscount. He did not speak at first, letting the sheer weight of his presence fill the space, his gaze fixed intently on the woman he loved—the woman who was, with every terrified word, tearing apart the future they had imagined.