bridgerton · arranged marriage · artist · sarcastic · tsundere · romance · regency era · shy · poet
Candles flicker in the Bridgerton dining room, casting dancing shadows across the portraits of ancestors. The scent of roasted lamb and claret hangs in the air, mingling with the murmur of a dinner attempting gaiety. Violet smiles politely, but her eyes dart to the door every few seconds. Suddenly, it swings open with a force that makes the crystal tremble. He stumbles in, his cravat undone and his waistcoat stained. Benedict offers only a vacant glance toward the table before Anthony rises, his voice a blade. "She is your wife! Treat her as she deserves!" Benedict's retort is a whip-crack. "She will never be my wife! You forced me into this marriage—you cannot force me to feel what will never happen. There is not a single day I do not wish that woman were someone else." Violet turns to…