Novel & Cerita Dearest Gentle Reader Bridgerton

Claire. Amelia. A stranger even to herself. My fingers hovered over my jaw, tracing the shape of a face that felt familiar and foreign all at once. This woman was supposed to be engaged today. Celebrated. Loved. Yet all she felt was a strange emptiness pulling at her from the inside. Still, I couldn’t show up looking like I was falling apart. So I dressed. Slowly. Deliberately. I slipped into the pale champagne dress Ethan’s mother sent weeks ago—soft satin, simple yet elegant, hugging my figure in a way that made me feel exposed.

Carmen's POV There was a very pretty lady standing in front of us on a raised platform that I didn't notice at first. I couldn't stop looking at her face and attractive body. But let me clarify, I'm not a lesbian. I'm just admiring her beauty like one would appreciate something beautiful that the lord created. "Good morning everyone," she finally greeted us with a serious tone, and we all responded to her greeting. "My name is Miss Peterson," she introduced herself, and I'm sure you all know why you're here," she said, almost like she was asking, and we all nodded. Well, I did because some people said "yes."

The Earl of Berkshire was fortunate to have four sons. Vincent Duncan and his wife, Amanda Duncan, lived out in the countryside south of London. Their closest neighbor was the Marquess of Reading. They lived with their only son, Francis. Robert and Julia Ravenport took pride in their appearance and never socialized with those lower than them. It was no surprise that Francis was promised to the Duke of Havenshire before she was born.

Next to this extravagant personality, Athena felt plain and unimportant, though she bore no malice towards her. Despite her older years, Lady Dacre was draped in a rich shawl of the finest silk and a richly laced gown with puffed sleeves in shades of spring green. Her greying brunette hair was adorned with bejewelled pins and trinkets. Her wealth was on full display, yet Athena could not dislike her, she and Lady McDonald were some of the kindest people she had encountered. Wilhemina Buxton was alone, reading and twirling long strands of blonde hair. She barely looked up from her gossip rags upon realising it was only Athena. She wondered which man she was anticipating the return of most.

In her hands, she holds a magnificent bouquet of my favorite lilies, their delicate fragrance wafting through the air. The audience watches in collective anticipation, the hushed whispers adding a layer of mystique to the unfolding moment. My heart pounds in my chest as Gabby gracefully descends to one knee before me, her smile radiant and maybe a bit nervous. The world around us blurs, leaving only her in sharp focus. The lilies she presents, a symbol of our shared history, carry a profound weight. I take the bouquet from her outstretched hands and hold the flowers close to my chest.

"Well, it's marked obligatory. It cannot be changed. And also our marriage is real, we are Betrothed remember? The only thing is we are getting divorced after a year " I sigh and shake my head. "I'm not ready Hunt" I say. "Well, I don't think I like that nickname and... ." he trailed and took some big book from his drawer. "I got this for you, I know you might be bored doing nothing. This will keep you busy " "Novels? " I ask and collected them from him. "Yes, romantic novels, I know girls love to read this type of books " "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't " I say and opened one titled "Professional slut "

“What can we do?” The scene before us changes until I see the castle in one of our lifetimes. We stand on the edge, staring at the valley under the bridge. This castle was built into a cliff side, with the bridge going over something that looks more like a canyon than a valley to me. Valeria stands beside me, once again her hand in mine as we watch the invaders coming. At least our backs are protected and we can see them coming head on. “This is it, my love,” she whispers. “They’re coming for us. Our midnight is coming.”

Inside your private sanctuary. I stare at the ceiling for a long moment, adrenaline fading into something quieter. I know I’m being watched. I just don’t know by whom. A message notification pops. Jamie. Soooo hypothetically speaking, what would it take to convince you to temporarily relocate to Casa de Jamie? It comes with scented candles, a couch that doesn’t sag, and all three seasons of Bridgerton. A second ping. Also, your apartment gives off haunted by nosy ghosts energy. Come stay with me. At least for a night or two. Bring snacks. And wine.

His eyes kept glancing at the large grandfather clock in the corner, its ornate hands inching closer to midnight. The air was filled with the luxurious scents of expensive perfumes, freshly cut flowers in tall centerpieces, and the delicate aroma of gourmet hors d’oeuvres. Waitstaff in impeccable attire circulated, offering the delectable treats. A string quartet played softly in the background, adding a refined touch to the lively chatter. Elara appeared at Damian’s side, glittering in a midnight blue gown that seemed to shimmer with every movement. She squeezed his hand gently. “Are you ready for this?” he whispered.

Jenkins placed it beside the flowers. Finally, he presented a leather-bound book, 'The Great Gatsby' by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a delicate silver necklace with a tiny crystal pendant in the shape of a teardrop. These he arranged on the bedside table, completing the thoughtful gesture. The room was transformed into a serene oasis, filled with the gentle scent of flowers and the promise of comfort. Damien's eyes never left Seraphina, his gaze filled with an unsettling intensity, as he waited for her to awaken and discover his thoughtful gestures.