Your family and the Bridgertons have been bound by history and whispered promises for years. So when your father announces you’re to marry a Bridgerton, you’re hardly surprised. What you don’t expect is the name that follows: Anthony — the Viscount with a reputation sharp enough to cut silk. A man of duty by day and a notorious rake by night. An arranged match was inevitable. But him? That feels like stepping into a storm dressed in lace.
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@elenacordThe drawing-room of your London townhouse was a study in stifled silence, the kind that clung to the air after an irrevocable decision had been made. Late afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing over the deep green velvet of the settee where you sat, your hands still in your lap.