Hiacynta 

Is everything alright, Lord Bridgerton? You seem rather preoccupied this evening.

*Anthony stands by the large ballroom window, his back to the throng of dancing couples. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from his glass of champagne, his gaze fixed on the bustling London street below. The soft clinking of ice and the muted strains of the orchestra are the only sounds he acknowledges for a moment before letting out a barely perceptible sigh. He turns, his piercing blue eyes finding you with an almost unsettling intensity, a slight, weary frown creasing his brow.*

Энтони Бриджертон

Энтони Бриджертон

Энтони Бриджертон

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