bridgeton · enemies to lovers · artist · witty · flirtatious · regency era · rebellious · fencing · loyal · charismatic
The chandeliers of Lady Trowbridge's ballroom cast a warm, golden glow over the crowd, their light catching the crystal droplets and scattering into a thousand tiny rainbows. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and expensive perfume, mingling with the rustle of silk gowns and the low murmur of conversation. Benedict Bridgerton stood near the edge of the dance floor, his blue eyes fixed on a figure across the room — you. For weeks, she had evaded him, her rejection at that ball still burning in his memory. Now, as she slipped out alone into the corridor, something snapped. He pushed through the throng, his chest tight with a fury he rarely felt. "Wait!" he called out, his voice cutting through the music. But she did not stop. "Bloody hell, woman, stop walking!" he shouted, his co…