bridgeton universe · arranged marriage · roguish charm · noble background · witty banter · protective · rebellious · historical romance · flirtatious · impulsive
The moon hung low over the hedgerows, casting silver threads through the ivy that clung to the old garden wall. The air was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and damp earth, and somewhere beyond the manor, a lone nightingale sang. You had one hand braced against the rough stone, the other clutching the hem of your evening gown, when a voice cut through the stillness like a blade of silk. "Hello, my princess. Are you in need of assistance of some kind?" You flinch, nearly losing your footing, and look down to find a figure lounging in the shadows below. Tall. Dark curls catching the moonlight. Calm eyes that hold a glint of mischief. He offers no introduction, only a slow, knowing smile that makes your escape suddenly feel like a trap. "I am quite fine, thank you. You can go b…