Bridgerton Novels & Stories

“I read about it, you know.” My steps faltered for the briefest moment, then I forced myself to keep moving. “The big scandal,” he continued, savoring the words like fine wine. “Bryan Adams, the golden boy. The perfect groom. Who left his bride standing at the altar.” My chest burned, and still he wasn’t finished. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening into something almost cruel. “That bride was Christiana, wasn’t it?” The words didn’t just hang in the air, they thickened it, smoke curling and coiling until it pressed into my lungs, until it became impossible to breathe without tasting the bitter ash of shame.

The car pulled away from the curb, and Millbrook waited four hours further down the road, closer now than it had been an hour ago, and somehow further away than ever. Bertrand looked up from his phone, his face pale in the afternoon light, the color draining out of it the way it does when a person hears something they have waited too long to hear. "Ashgrove Manor says there's a resident named Ruth Preston," he said slowly. "Ninety four years old. Admitted under her married name. Her maiden name, according to their records, was Caldenwood." I turned to Alexander, my breath catching in my chest. "That's not Aldric," I whispered. "That's someone who knew him." "Or someone who loved him," Alexan

She was smiling in joy and it only made her look prettier. Audrey was wearing a perfect fit gown, unlike the one she had when she first attempted to get married. The white dress hung heavy on her, its upper part hugged her perfectly well. From her waist, it flowed into a corset, a sprinkling of jewels of the sky in various glow spread an array of sparkling light reaching its frilled edges like a star fading in the sky at dawn. It was as if she draped half of the galaxy on her curves, except she wasn’t a goddess but a happy bride.

Bridgette shook her head. “No, unfortunately not many. My family is one of the oldest and purest lines in the world. My name is Bridgette Ryan of the River Tay. I am from Scotland, which I am sure you could deduce from my accent, aye?” she asked me, finally turning her attention from the road back to my face. I couldn’t help but grin sheepishly. I loved her accent, it was mysterious and sexy, and I wasn’t going to lie, it turned me on.

Then, thinking her mom was calling, she headed downstairs. Her feet barely touched the ground floor when the TV screen flickered to life, blaring the 10am news in urgent, pulsing tones. "Tragedy has struck the fashion world. Christian Bridges, renowned model, heir to the Bridges fashion empire, and Vesper magazine's coveted cover star, has been involved in a horrific accident. Reports indicate that the accident was severe, and Christian is currently being treated in the ICU unit..."

She shook her head firmly, her silver hair trembling around her face as her eyes, sharp with conviction, pinned me in place. “Oh dear! You’re not listening to me, Madelyn. Look again, look closer. Don’t you see that something is wrong here? If your husband was going to do something as despicable as messing around with that woman, why would he wait until now that you two are back together to do it? Why in the world would he even have anything to do with a woman who is his relative and his employee? You know Zachary is not that type of man. Do you think he would let this go public if he was really fooling around with her?”

Despite the initial arrangement, Alexander had grown genuinely fond of Bridget and gifted her the necklace on her birthday. But the next time Alexander saw that necklace, it was on national news. Victor Blackwell, had publicly gifted the amulet to Bridget during the grand opening of one of his firms. The media portrayed it as though Victor had procured the necklace himself, enhancing the narrative of their romantic involvement. Bridget and Victor became the trending couple, their story splashed across tabloids and news channels. Alexander, who had yet to make his relationship with Bridget public, watched the spectacle unfold with a mix of anger and betrayal.

“It’s just wild and it’s quite embarrassing because Caspian knew about it all these while. That was why he kept saying I wasn’t going to get married to Alexander. He knew I was going to end it with him if I found out.” “Caspian seems like an interesting character.” He was. He was relentless and he had a gun. Bridget’s eyes strayed to the watch on her wrist and I took it as a sign to stand up. “I’ll leave you to it. We’ll catch up later.” She looked at me sympathetically. “I wish you could stay longer.” “Consequences of being an adult, I guess. I’ll see you another time. If you don’t have to work tomorrow, you can come over and we can drink my sorrows away.”

Aiden’s father was in the forefront, followed by Aiden and I. I noticed something in the lady’s dressing. It was an eighteenth-century fashion. Maybe Aiden has arranged a ball, like that in Lady Whistletown’s piece, the Bridgerton series. “No offence, sire,” she sounded refined, like the most brilliant figure picked from the past and brought to the present to block our way and tell us whatever she has in stock for us. “What do you wish for, woman?” Aiden’s father mimicked her tone. Everyone except me laughed. I was merely curious to figure out what luxury they have in stock for us this time.

I think of Carlos with a smile on my face. "I have to show you something" Bridget says, showing us her phone. “Oh, no. Another influencer caught in a scandal?” Helen asks, raising her brows dramatically. Bridget shakes her head. “Worse. Your ex-prince charming, Emily. Alexander.” At the mention of his name, my heart does an uncomfortable flip. “What about him?” I ask slowly. Bridget doesn’t answer right away. She taps her screen and turns the phone toward us. “Watch.”