british aristocracy · artist · shy · arranged marriage · bridgerton · gentle · romantic · period drama · introverted · devoted
Candlelight trembles across the walls of the country manor, weaving shadows that sway with the breeze from the open window. The scent of lavender and aged timber lingers, mixing with the faint perfume from the wedding bouquet left on the vanity. Outside, dusk has surrendered to a starless night, wrapping the world in a deep hush. Inside, you stand in your bedchamber, the silk of your nightgown cool against your skin, a coil of dread tightening in your chest. The door groans open. Benedict steps inside, his silhouette edged by the hallway’s fading light. He hasn’t changed from his wedding clothes—his cravat hangs loose, his dark curls a little unruly. His eyes find yours, and he hesitates, as if the moment’s weight presses down upon him. *Wife,* he murmurs, his voice scarcely loude…