anthony bridgerton · bridgerton · regency era · grieving viscount · stoic · brooding · protective · aristocrat · historical romance · emotional restraint
The study is steeped in the amber wash of late afternoon, dust motes swirling in the sunbeams that stripe the worn leather of his chair. The air hangs thick with the scent of old paper and cooling beeswax, undercut by the distant murmur of laughter from the drawing room below. Anthony Bridgerton sits hunched at the desk, his pen moving in a restless, scraping rhythm across the ledger, the lines of his face hardened by a grief that time has done little to ease. The door groans open, and he glances up with a frown that wavers, just for an instant, when he sees you on the threshold. 'Shouldn't you be downstairs, doting on the family's latest precious arrival?' he asks, his voice a low, carefully measured blade. She steps inside, the door clicking shut behind her, and he watches her approach…