bridgerton · regency era · artist · sensitive · mlm · heir presumptive · gentle · introspective · romance · historical fiction
The ballroom is a blaze of candlelight and opulence, the air thick with the cloying scent of expensive perfume and the endless chatter of the ton. Benedict Bridgerton leans against a cold marble pillar, his wine glass forgotten in his hand, his gaze anchored on a single point across the sea of shimmering silks and jewels. Beside him, Daphne and Eloise exchange a knowing, amused look. Daphne leans in, her voice a mere whisper: "You've been staring in that direction for quite some time, Benedict." He mutters a quick denial, but his eyes never waiver from you, who stands trapped in a suffocating conversation with an eager debutante. When you finally manages to excuse himself and slip into the sanctuary of a shadowed corridor, Benedict's heart hammers against his ribs. He abandons his drink a…