* * *
“Whatever could you be thinking,” Benedict mused, “to look so adorably ferocious? No, don’t tell me,” he added. “I’m sure it involves my untimely and painful demise.”
* * *
He knew—absolutely knew—that if one of them didn’t leave the room in the next thirty seconds, he was going to do something for which he’d owe her a thousand apologies.
Not that he didn’t plan to seduce her. Just that he’d rather do it with a bit more finesse.
* * *
“Sometimes,” Benedict said, keeping his voice purposefully light and gentle, “it’s not so easy being a Bridgerton.”
Her head slowly turned around. “I can’t imagine anything nicer.”
“There isn’t anything nicer,” he replied, “but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy.”
“What do you mean?”
And Benedict found himself giving voice to feelings he’d never shared with any other living soul, not even—no, especially not his family. “To most of the world,” he said, “I’m merely a Bridgerton. I’m not Benedict or Ben or even a gentleman of means and hopefully a bit of intelligence. I’m merely”—he smiled ruefully—“a Bridgerton. Specifically, Number Two.”
BENEDICT BRIDGERTON is apparently in London, but he eschews all polite social gatherings in favor of less genteel milieus.
Although if truth be told, This Author should not give the impression that the aforementioned Mr. Bridgerton has been spending his every waking hour in debauched abandon. If accounts are correct, he has spent most of the past fortnight in his lodgings on Bruton Street.
As there have been no rumors that he is ill, This Author can only assume that he has finally come to the conclusion that the London season is utterly dull and not worth his time.
Smart man, indeed.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
9 JUNE 1817
“If you like your life dull, then that can only mean that you do not understand the nature of excitement.”
AN OFFER FROM A GENTLEMAN
* * *
Benedict stood immediately. Certain manners could be ignored for one’s sister, but never for one’s mother.
“I saw your feet on the table,” Violet said before he could even open his mouth.
“I was merely polishing the surface with my boots.”
* * *
“What are you up to?” Sophie asked.
“Why would you think I’m up to anything?”
Her lips pursed before she said, “You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t up to something.”
Benedict smiled at that. “I do believe that was a compliment.”
“It wasn’t necessarily intended as such.”
“But nonetheless,” he said mildly, “that’s how I choose to take it.”
* * *
“I promise that your virtue will be safe,” he interrupted. And then he added, because he couldn’t quite help himself: “Unless you want it otherwise.”
* * *
“So now you’re jumping out at me from closets?”
“Of course not.” He looked affronted. “That was a staircase.”
* * *
He was, he realized, comforted by her presence. They didn’t need to talk. They didn’t even need to touch (although he wasn’t about to let go just then). Simply put, he was a happier man—and quite possibly a better man—when she was near.
* * *
She was here, with him, and she felt like heaven. The soft scent of her hair, the slight taste of salt on her skin—she was, he thought, born to rest in the shelter of his arms. And he was born to hold her.
* * *
“When I thought about what it was in life I really needed—not what I wanted, but what I needed—the only thing that kept coming up was you.”
It suddenly made sense. Only twice in his life had he felt this inexplicable, almost mystical attraction to a woman. He’d thought it remarkable, to have found two, when in his heart he’d always believed there was only one perfect woman out there for him.
His heart had been right. There was only one.
AN OFFER FROM A GENTLEMAN
BENEDICT, ACCORDING TO HIS FAMILY . . .
“Benedict always loves to natter on about art. I rarely am able to follow the conversation, but he seems quite animated.”
GREGORY, On the Way to the Wedding
“Love grows and changes every day. And it isn’t like some thunderbolt from the sky, instantly transforming you into a different man. I know Benedict says it was that way for him, and that’s just lovely, but you know, Benedict is not normal.”
DAPHNE, Romancing Mister Bridgerton
4
Colin
What is the mark of a gentleman? Many would say style, and surely Mr. Beau Brummell would agree, had he not fled the country in the wake of unpaid debts two years ago. Others might point to intellect, a flair of the word, so to speak. Lord Byron would do nicely within the boundaries of this definition . . . had he not also fled the country.
Also for unpaid debts.
Also two years ago.
’Tis a positive epidemic of gentlemen departing our shores, although This Author must take pains to point out that while Colin Bridgerton plans to depart for Denmark later this month, he is neither a borrower nor a lender. His is a trip of pleasure, as are all his travels.
The ladies of the ton shall surely mourn his absence, but to his own self Mr. Bridgerton must be true. His love of travel is well-established. Almost as well-established as his cheeky grin and flirtatious manner. This Author is far too busy to count the number of broken hearts Mr. Bridgerton has left strewn across London, but it must be said that none of these shattered organs were the result of malicious or salacious actions by Mr. Bridgerton.
Alas, he needs not to do to make the ladies fall in love. He merely needs to be.
If brevity is indeed the soul of wit, This Author shall say only—perhaps this is why he so often flees our shores.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 1818
ROMANCING MISTER BRIDGERTON
Colin Bridgerton was famous for many things.
He was famous for his good looks, which was no surprise; all the Bridgerton men were famous for their good looks.
He was famous for his slightly crooked smile, which could melt a woman’s heart across a crowded ballroom and had even once caused a young lady to faint dead away, or at least to swoon delicately, then hit her head on a table, which did produce the aforementioned dead faint.
He was famous for his mellow charm, his ability to set anyone at ease with a smooth grin and an amusing comment.
What he was not famous for, and in fact what many people would have sworn he did not even possess, was a temper.
THE DUKE AND I
“I hope he knows what he has in you,” Colin said quietly to Daphne. “Because if he doesn’t, I may have to shoot him myself.”
MATCHMAKING MAMAS are united in their glee—Colin Bridgerton has returned from Greece!