Bridgerton Cast Eloise Novels & Stories

Now they were professionally mounted, highlighted by golden lighting, her name elegantly printed at the bottom of each frame. My throat tightened. I had missed all of this. Every step of her growth. Time passed slowly. The assistant brought me a glass of water, which I barely touched. Then, at last, I heard the soft clack of heels against the tiled floor. My head shot up. Eloise walked in with a tablet in one hand and her phone in the other. She wore wide-legged ivory trousers and a black silk blouse tucked neatly at the waist, her curly hair pulled back in a sleek bun. She looked… god, she looked like a diva.

“She won’t be a problem for long.” Adele, who had been fiddling with the edge of her dress, glanced up sharply. “What do you mean by that?” I tilted my head, enjoying the brief look of concern that crossed her face. “Oh, it's no big deal. She is getting married.” I said casually. “Getting married?” Eloise cut in, sitting up straighter. “What do you mean, getting married? Didn’t her fiancé cheat on her and end things?” I raised my eyebrows, surprised. “Really? He cheated?”

I leaned against the marble pillar in the courtyard, watching Ruby storm off, her ponytail slicing through the air like she was cutting ties with every step. Gabrielle stood stiffly beside Lindsay, still fuming, her perfect nails trembling around her phone. The whole picture made me want to laugh. They were so predictable — all of them. Except her. Eloise Perkins. While everyone else was busy performing, she somehow managed to exist quietly. She didn’t seem built for this world of staged perfection, of trophies and gold-trimmed secrets. That’s probably why she intrigued me so much — she wasn’t trying to be one of us.

Tania|| "Well, well, well. If it isn't the master with his muse." Eloise accompanied her words with a gentle clap of her hands. My mouth was wide open as I watched her walk into the room. If Nicholas looked bad, Eloise was the worst— This whole affair might just have affected her much more than it was affecting Nicholas. My little sister looked like a shadow of herself. Her collar bones stuck out like two sharp blades beneath the neckline of her little black dress.

she urged. I rolled my eyes. “No. Definitely no.” I shook my head, but I was curious; Bridget sounded really excited. “Mrs. Eloise’s drama is ready. I got news from her writing team. She’s looking for actors for every character. She wants perfect people, and I don’t think there’s anyone better than you for the male lead,” Bridget explained. “I am certain we’ll get it, but I still think we should position ourselves strategically. I’m going to need you at the office tomorrow evening”.

One drop, two, three, fall into the bowl. The liquid inside writhes like it is alive, turning silver, then white, then a light so pure it hurts to look at. Gasps ripple through the hall. Malphas lifts the bowl high. His blind eyes weep tears of rapture. “Behold!” he cries. “The soul of Elara Wynne burns brighter than any in a thousand years! She is chosen! She is pure! She is the bride the Serpent has waited for!” The cheering is deafening.

A murmur rises from the men, shock filtering through their ranks. Eloise releases Liam’s arm and steps back, her expression cool, unbothered. “Anyone else?” No one moves. I smirk. Pride filling me in an instant. It’s true I never saw her fight, but this was proof that she was the rightful woman fated to be mine. My mate, and my luna. My amusement is short-lived as Eloise turns, her silver eyes meeting mine, cold and unreadable. There’s no warmth. No emotion. Just that same detached, calculating look she’s had since the moment she walked back into my life.

I turned, my stomach lurching. Eloise. She swept in with effortless grace, her designer coat sliding from her shoulders into an attendant’s arms. Heads turned. She knew it, relished it. When her gaze landed on me, her lips curved into a poisonous smile. “Well, well. Playing dress-up with Damian’s card, are we?” My grip on the fabric tightened, but I held her gaze. Sophia bristled, stepping closer. “She’s shopping. Just like you.” Eloise’s eyes flicked to my belly, lingering with deliberate cruelty. “Careful at the party, Evelyn. Don’t trip over your gown—or the story you’re selling.”

"Oh shut up you brat! Don't you dare to mock me. Why did you come so late? I almost got my name crossed out by the staff!" "I'm sorry honey, I had to deal with my delayed schedule before coming here. You know I should be on a plane to Paris right now to attend the Paris fashion icon show, but for you, my love, I'm right here." "Oh, Jon, you have no idea how grateful I am." Eloise cleared her throat after regaining her consciousness from the charm of a Jonathan Issac who was called a genius artist. "Lea, you're not going to introduce me to Jonathan Issac--," Eloise deliberately paused, then turned to everyone around her, who were also still hypnotized. "--YOUR PARTNER?"

Her gaze fixed on the winding drive that snaked up from the village below, where mist still clung to the hedgerows. She wore a simple ivory blouse and long skirt, her dark hair loosely pinned, a few rebellious strands framing her face. Hope had painted a soft flush across her cheeks, making her look both ethereal and fiercely alive. “Ely,” Elena asked softly, approaching from the doorway, “are you waiting for George?” Eloise turned slowly, her hazel eyes alight with a quiet intensity that belied the storm within. For the first time in days, a genuine smile curved her lips, warm and radiant, chasing away the shadows that had lingered there.