Eloise Bridgerton Novels & Stories

Let it grow uncomfortable. Then she asked, quietly but sharply: “What did you do to my mother?” Ophelia frowned. “What? You’re an orphan, right?” “Elizabeth Jane Hudson,” Eloise said. “That’s her name.” Ophelia froze. All the arrogance drained from her face. For a moment, she seemed to forget how to breathe. Then she stumbled to her feet, panic twisting her features. “What—No. No, you’re lying!” “Looks like you knew her well,” Eloise said softly.

“If my memory serves my right, wasn’t your daughter a mistress in the beginning? Oh, and I hear that the original wife whose marriage she went in between, Madeline Crawford? I heard we look almost the same. Perhaps that’s why you’re speaking to me in such a tone, Mrs. Montgomery?” Eloise’s expression immediately darkened. “What are you talking about? My daughter has never gone in between anyone’s marriage. Madeline Crawford was the shameless one who climbed into my son-in-law’s bed. Meredith and Jeremy would have had a happy family long ago if it were not for her!”

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 man from the New York constituent office, a billionaire philanthropist that seemed bored to be here, a businessman that seemed to care all about appearances and looked at Elowen with too much scrutiny, a social worker with her hair in a too-tight bun, Richard, an old friend of my aunt's, and finally, Elowen. Elowen was going to be the overseer of the art program for the children's foundation, and the interior decoration of this place. “Hey everyone. I look forward to working with you,” she said cooly. I did not want to look at her and give her more reason to despise me, but it was hard to not notice the way her collared shirt hugged her torso. The way her hair sat in wave, flowing down her

I growled, flashing her a fang, my eyes practically throwing daggers her way. “Aunt Aurelia,” Keyleth clasped her hands in front of her, walking slowly towards us. She squinted her eyes at me, when she noticed my expression. And then, ignored me, facing Aunt Aurelia completely. “I’m trying to get Oliver here to talk to his betrothed.” My aunt's eyebrows pulled together, then leveled. She tilted her neck to look at me, barely the same eye level. “That's not such a bad thing,” her hand darted out to smooth pieces of hair from my face. “Is it?”

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”.

It was the same look one might give a ridiculous clown. "Well, well," Madison said with a faint laugh. "Isn't this the little cat Mr. Becker keeps on a leash? Looks like you've still got some fight in you." Eloise recognized Madison instantly. This was the same woman she had once publicly insulted at a gala, emboldened by the belief that I would always protect her. Back then, she thought she could do whatever she wanted in Kensington. Only now did she finally understand why Madison had always looked at her like she was already dead.

My words left a tense silence in the air, and the two women exchanged uncomfortable glances. "How rude!" the blonde girl rolled her eyes in anger at my response. "The way she responded, it almost seems like she's hiding something. Maybe she's the one who had the maid poison Katy so she'd lose the baby. I heard Eloise was Eleanor's personal maid, and they were super close. Eleanor even gave her a pair of ruby earrings on the day of the banquet. I know because the other servants told me," the girl next to her said, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at me.

she mused, her eyes sparkling, her French accent overflowing, “you look like the morning sunshine.” “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, but please, just call me Eloise, Mrs. Laurent,” I said with a smile, and we shook hands. “Mrs. Laurent is not just any tailor in our city,” Nina mentioned as she introduced us. “Her name and designs are known throughout Scotland, particularly among the elites.”

" I know right? Since when? ''I just wanted you to know that I prayed for you while you were gone and I think you're such a hero for....'' Unable to pretend to stand the fake gesture, I cut in. ''Maybe don't remind her of something she obviously isn't trying to remember'' Eloise gave me a grateful look but I pretended not to see. I was not her friend and I didn't want her getting the wrong idea. ''Ugh, Hi, Gabrielle. I didn't see you there'' I wore a fake smile. ''Of course you didn't'' ''I'm actually surprised that you and Eloise are getting close. It's not really a bad idea seeing the potential that she has'' ''Potential that I have?" Eloise asked. ''Why, yes, Ellie. You have gotten so pop