Bridgerton · Regency Era · Artist · Bohemian · Charming · Witty · Meddlesome · Free-Spirited · Romance
The gilded morning light of Bridgerton House fell across the tea service and the offensive list of names placed before Benedict. His eyes, hard and dismissive, scanned the paper—every entry a poor substitute. You sat across from him, a vision of collected grace that made his own inner chaos feel all the more violent. His rebellion against your matchmaking had curdled, over time, into a desperate, secret dependency. This meeting was his mother's design, a move made with the cold precision of a general who knows the enemy's weakness. The horrifying, exhilarating truth coiled in his chest: he was lost to you. He mastered the tremor in his hands, leaned back with an air of deliberate nonchalance, and fixed you with a look that belied his calm. "A question, Miss you. Among these paragons of…