Bridgerton Books Eloise Novels & Stories

The one the King brought back. My chest tightened. I kept my head down, my hands clenched at my sides. “This is Elysia,” the woman announced to the room. “She’ll be working on the prep and cleanup. Show her what to do.” A few servants nodded, but most just stared, and no one moved. Then the noise resumed, and I was forgotten or at least, I was supposed to be. Finally, a younger woman—maybe a few years older than me stepped forward. She had dark hair tied back in a braid and tired eyes.

“Which is why we’re here. To set the record straight.” “And the record is?” “She’s innocent,” I said. “Morris Jones fabricated the bank records. My legal team has proof. The police are dropping the investigation by the end of the day.” Maxwell’s gaze shifted back to Elise. “And you, Miss Anderson. Why marry my son?” Elise didn’t flinch. “Because he offered me protection when no one else would. Ans because I needed a shield. And because I trust him to keep his word.” she added.

“I, Elena Brook , take you, Adrian Cross, to be my lawful married husband. For better or worse, in poverty and in riches… I couldn't wait to hear the rest. I had heard those words during my brother’s wedding. Those vows, promises, those happy moments, the butterflies that usually fly in everyone’s belly. I had imagined myself saying those words one day. Now hearing them spoken to someone else entirely…it felt like a stab in my chest. And the only thing I knew was no one else but my beloved Man, My fiance was getting married but the bride isn’t me. I could hear my ears ringing. My chest tightened painfully like I was wrapped in someone’s hand and I was being squeezed. I raised my head up to l

Her delicate features are like art brought to life. She moved with effortless grace, yet radiated a whispered power: get too close, and you’ll burn. He couldn’t look away. Unaware of his stare, Eloise's eyes swept across the private club. The scent of expensive colognes, the clinking of crystal glasses, the velvet air of old money and high stakes, she hadn’t realized how much she missed this world until she was breathing it in again. She hadn’t attended anything like this after she married Mason. But now, she’s back. And very aware of it.

Liora muttered. “I think she actually did write those chapters daily, because there's been a great deal of sneaky sex since she kissed Estelle.” I said. “I wonder how Kael would take this when I eventually have to dump this on him.” I added. “In this case, I wouldn't like to be in your shoes.” She shook her head, giving me a side hug before she continued washing my body. *** Hours later after doing nothing but reading so much p**n woven into Queen Pearl's first book, I was visited by Lady Eloise.

“You don’t know what he’s done or what he’s capable of.” I looked at her more closely now, my eyebrows drawing together. Something wasn’t adding up. “Hold on a sec.” I moved a little closer. “Do you… like him? I mean—did you ever have feelings for Cross?” Eloise stunned at my unexpected question. For a second, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her eyes. Then she looked away and gave a small shake of her head. “I used to.” Ah. So, she had feelings for him. That might explain why she’s so against him and Nyx being close. Aside from her “concern.”

One thing was extremely clear; this woman wasn't just any secretary, she was Lancelot's mate. Her eyes narrowed at Roxanne immediately she sensed it. She picked up the glass of red wine in front of her and turned her gaze to Lancelot. He was focused on the chicken wings in front of him. A knowing smile appeared on Eloise's face; something was definitely going on. And she couldn't wait to watch it unravel.

Celine quickly obeys. Eloise was five-ten and a tall, thin woman, greying at the temples of her long hair that she wore in a braid most days. She was a lot older than her niece, at ninety-five years old, but she still looked to be around forty. Eloise was her father’s sister and while they got on most of the time, Eloise would often give Anton a hard time about Celine and the distance he kept from her. One night, when she was very small, she peeked out of the window of the small cottage and saw them talking.

But then I saw her. Eloise. She walked in with Noel by her side, the smug bastard looking far too comfortable in her presence. And trailing just behind them was Edmund, the man who seemed to take pride in orchestrating everyone’s lives, including hers. But it wasn’t just the company she kept that had my blood boiling—it was her. The way she moved, confident and poised, as if she owned the entire room. Her dress was breathtaking, perfectly tailored to hug every curve, showcasing not just her beauty but her strength. The fabric clung to her like a second skin, but what truly caught everyone’s attention was the art etched into her flesh. Her tattoos, usually hidden, were now on full display, a

A moment passed, and then the door creaked open, revealing a woman—Eloise. She stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with confusion. For a moment, she didn’t speak. Her long, dark hair framed her face, and her delicate features were soft, unguarded. She was the picture of innocence, a stark contrast to the storm that was about to engulf her life. "Eloise," Trent said softly, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "It’s time."