Eloise Bridgerton Novels & Stories

Could he trust him? The complications had set her feelings on a spike of doubt. She had to brush it aside till the complicated knots were untied. A man like Charles seemed like a complete gentleman. Far from the man Killian had portrayed himself to be over the past few months. "Ma'am... A Uber is waiting for you out front." Eloise came to deliver. Penelope smiled and twirled in front of her mirror. She wore a peach A-shaped gown that reached above her knees with a slit, showing off her thighs.

Elsie stilled in her steps, just then, she looked at him with a smile and then, she picked a random item and asked him, Do you think I should pick this, it’s cute right? Oswald looked at the bottle of oil in her hands and laughed and then asked her, You think that the bottle is cute or the oil is? Elsie looked at the item in her palm, she shook her head and kept it in the cart and then said to him, What, I think it’s cute and so, I will be buying it. Oswald nodded his head but thought, I know you were angry because I said I hadn’t informed Tess about the breakup. But when I said I would tomorrow, you are trying to hide your happiness. How cute, you are the cute one and not the bottle of oil.

She murmured, motioning me inside. She paused and asked, “Well, what is your name? You are definitely not Elaine.” “Forgive me. My name is Ophelia. Ophelia Folks.” I responded, my hands clasped tightly on my back, never meeting her gaze. “Well, Ophelia, if anyone asks, you are Elaine Roosevelt. As you heard, a new maid was hired today, but unfortunately, she could not make it and now, we are in need of a maid. Unless you don’t want to, you can be that new maid. I will hear your decision tomorrow morning. For now, take a bath and sleep, I can tell you had a long day. I will let you know everything you need to know tomorrow morning. Good night, Ophelia.”

Two armed bodyguards rushed out of the car and one of them held the door for her, "Madam." Celeste quickly looked around and covering her face a little with a book she pursed her lips. "It's her, she is the new girl. Isn't she? I heard that she is the famous Mr. Weston's wife. I thought it was a rumour only but it looks like she really is his wife. Don't you see the news? She is always on trending, Mr. Weston must love her very much. Look at the way he treats her, I heard that while looking for colleges he was very picky because he wanted her to study in the best college."

She wore a white haute couture dress, completely out of place in the dark, damp basement. The moment she entered, her gaze swept over the photo, and her expression shifted to near tears. "Gosh..." She covered her mouth, tears welling up instantly. "Is this Naomi?" She picked up the diary from the floor and flipped through a few pages. Her eyes darted around before she immediately said, "Naomi used to love writing novels. This must be a story she made up! She loves writing such heart-wrenching things to get attention!"

She asked doubtfully. "Yes. Becky and I-." Violet stood up from the room and walked to the door. She stormed out of the room and slammed the door. George looked at her blankly and shook his head. < > Rebecca gently wore the baby cap on Catherine's head. Catherine had sat down, being supported by the pillows round her. She playfully hit the pillow. Zita was in the room and watched as the Duchess dressed the Lady. "Your grace," She called. Rebecca turned to her side and looked at her.

Her dress perfectly tailored to her slender figure. A woman who belonged to his world. “Mother, I’d like you to meet Eloise,” Nigel said, turning to face her. “She’s my fiancée.” Eloise bowed slightly, a charming smile on her lips. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Harris. Nigel has told me so much about you.” Mrs. Harris offered a polite smile, but Ryse noticed the fleeting glint in the lady of the house’s eyes. An unreadable glint, perhaps even a hint of disappointment.

She briefly looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She was wearing her white wedding gown. Adorned with real diamond jewelry—the necklace, bangles, earrings, and even the headdress were all diamonds. Although they were real this time, her natural beauty was still undeniably outstanding—just like the time Don Constantino auctioned her off at the Dark Auction. "Perfect!" her makeup artist commented. Eleanor smiled, joy clearly visible in her eyes. Her heart was beating fast—with happiness and excitement. "Ma'am Eleanor, the carriage is here..." said one of the assistants who had just entered.

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 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.”