Edmund Bridgerton Novels & Stories

She threw her hand in the air in a dramatic manner. Andrew glared at her. "Oh, please, Alena. Your parents would never let you marry just some guy. He must be someone important," he said, growing impatient to know. She took a sip of her drink. "Someone important like Edmund Cardinal?" Andrew's eyes widened. "You're marrying a Cardinal? You are marrying Edmund Cardinal? The eldest Cardinal—the powerful, rich, and sexy one?" Her brows furrowed. "You know him?" "Of course, everyone knows him. My gosh, Alena, he's a big catch. I didn't know you were into older men."

"Like we're all blind." "James," their mother hissed. "Hush." "I'm just saying, if you're going to bring your boyfriend to your sister's wedding, maybe don't insult everyone's intelligence by—" "James Alexander Bridgerton, I swear to God—"

With politeness, she served them on the table. Edward didn't take his eyes off Kimberly. He seemed captivated by what he was seeing. "Are you Nicholas's personal secretary?" he asked. Kimberly nodded softly. "Yes, sir, I—" "Just call me Edward. Oh, by the way, my full name is Sebastian Edwardo Martin," he interrupted as he extended his hand for a handshake. "But don't get me wrong; I'm not the Edward Martin from the Twilight Saga movies. When it comes to handsomeness, it's clear that I'm the most handsome," he joked without hesitation.

Edmund had mentioned that they were having an outdoor dinner, so she was certain she wouldn't need to enter the house. Edmund stepped out first. Then, he held her hand and helped her down. He looked almost charming in the way he carried himself. His smooth, tanned skin looked as if it had been bathed in gold. She allowed herself a moment to admire him and to think that this was real, that she was dating the handsome billionaire, Edmund Hamilton, that he loved her and she loved him. It was a short-lived moment. Edmund interrupted her thoughts as they stepped out in the open.

Mr Emerson concluded. "We have enough money dad, you are being sarcastic....it's called selfishness, you are selfish!" Brandon said. This time around, he wasn't yelling. "Call it whatever you want. Don't you think it's time to stop your playboy life? Getting married to Beatrice is like helping you" Mr Emerson stated. "So Beatrice is her name" Brandon said, chuckling. "If you want me to get married, then let me choose my bride!" "Beatrice is the best bride for you, because after marrying her you would gain a lot and her company will be merged with yours"Mr Emerson replied.

’ Pale, soft, and chubby… My mind conjured an image of a freshly baked Chelsea bun. The golf cart turned a bend on the path. A vast expanse of green opened up before us. In the distance were forests and a lake. Closer by stood two men in athletic wear, deep in conversation. The man in the dark blue top and tan trousers was Colin Bridgerton. Beside him, standing a good half-head taller in pristine white sportswear, was a figure of unmatched elegance. He had the broad shoulders and narrow waist of an athlete, and when he turned his head, the light carved out a profile so handsome it seemed airbrushed.

She looked slightly annoyed but hid it with a smile. “Meredith this is my fiance, Helena Gwyneth Bancroft of Bancroft Finance.” Edward still hadn’t taken his eyes off of Meredith, which she found creepy and sexy at the same time. She tried to ignore him and looked past him at the blonde next to him.

“I had been expecting you! You’re partner called ahead to give me a notice. Welcome! I’m Father Able Bishop, the Priest of Citador Cathedral. But I bet you already knew that.” “Hi!” I shook his outstretched hand, unable to keep the smile out of my face at his humorous attitude. “I’m happy to meet you Father. I spent my entire childhood here, so it would be an honor to be able to wed in this Cathedral as well.” “Ah! Yes, your fiancé mentioned.” His smile was big and warm, more welcoming than that of my entire town’s people combined. “A pleasant lady she is, your fiancée.” That had me pausing. “You know I’m marrying a woman?”

“I think four tiers. Ivory buttercream, sugar flowers cascading down…” “Like a waterfall,” Tracy said dramatically, earning a glare. Evelyn pushed hair behind her ear, fingers trembling for no reason that made sense out loud. Her mind wasn’t here. It was somewhere darker. Somewhere behind a closed closet door in her chest where the truth lived, snarling and restless. Ethan is best man. Ethan is standing beside Liam at the altar. Ethan knows what you taste like. Her stomach twisted. “Evelyn.” Her mother’s voice snapped her back.

She was not some stranger who would just walk in and leave without an effect. She was more than that. And worse… she was beautiful. Not in the vain, superficial way Lysandra flaunted. No. Delilah had that effortless kind of beauty, the one that didn’t need much to leave an impression. With her long dark lashes, soft voice, and mysterious demeanor, it was the kind of presence that made men stop and look. And Damon… He looked. Even if he didn’t mean to. Even if he didn’t want to. He still looks at her, he still watched, and deep down I knew that he found himself getting lost, admiring even.