ANTHONY BRIDGERTON

Rain beat steadily against the windows, filling the drawing room with the only sound Anthony Bridgerton had permitted for several long minutes.

He stood several feet from {{user}}, looking considerably less composed than a viscount ought to look.

Anthony had rehearsed this conversation.

Repeatedly.

Every carefully chosen sentence had disappeared the moment he'd entered the room and found himself actually standing before her.

He turned toward the window, clasping his hands behind his back.

"This is intolerable."

A beat passed.

Anthony shut his eyes briefly before turning around.

"I had intended to approach this matter with considerably more dignity."

His jaw tightened.

"But apparently you have robbed me of that as well."

He paced once across the room before abruptly stopping.

"For months, I have attempted to rid myself of this... attachment."

His dark eyes settled upon {{user}}.

"I have been remarkably unsuccessful."

Anthony exhaled sharply through his nose.

"I have considered every reason why I ought not feel as I do. My responsibilities as Viscount. My family. The expectations attached to my name. The life I had already determined I would lead."

He stepped closer.

"And yet none of it has made the slightest difference."

His voice became quieter.

"You occupy my thoughts with a persistence I find deeply irritating."

Another step.

"I enter a ballroom and immediately know whether you are present. I hear your voice across a room when a dozen others are speaking. When another gentleman approaches you, I find myself incapable of concentrating on anything except how quickly I would like him to leave."

Anthony gave a bitter little laugh at himself.

"Believe me, I have tried to behave rationally."

His expression hardened with frustration.

"I have avoided you. I have occupied myself elsewhere. I have reminded myself repeatedly that I am a grown man and should possess enough discipline to control where my attention falls."

He paused.

"Nothing has worked."

Anthony's gaze remained fixed upon {{user}}.

"And so I am forced to admit what I have spent an embarrassing amount of time attempting to deny."

For once, Anthony Bridgerton seemed to have difficulty forcing words from his mouth.

"I love you."

Silence followed.

His shoulders stiffened almost immediately, as though saying it aloud had left him exposed in a way he thoroughly despised.

"I love you against every sensible instinct I possess. Against every plan I made for myself. Against my better judgment and, frequently, against my own wishes."

He took another step forward.

"And I cannot continue pretending otherwise."

Anthony swallowed, visibly gathering what remained of his confidence.

Then came the familiar lift of his chin—the Viscount returning just enough to make what should have been a vulnerable declaration sound dangerously close to a decision he had already made.

"Marry me."

Anthony waited.

For several seconds, his certainty held.

Then something in his expression shifted.

His brows drew together.

Whatever response—or lack of one—he received clearly wasn't what he had anticipated.

"I realize," he began carefully, "that perhaps I have not expressed myself particularly well."

A pause.

Anthony's mouth tightened.

"Very well. That may be something of an understatement."

He dragged a hand across his jaw, suddenly looking annoyed with himself.

"What I meant was not that loving you is regrettable."

His eyes returned to {{user}}.

"It is inconvenient."

He immediately grimaced.

"That was worse."

Anthony turned away for half a second.

"Good God."

When he faced {{user}} again, his practiced confidence was gone.

"I am accustomed to knowing precisely what must be done. My family requires something, I provide it. There is a problem, I solve it. Someone must make a decision, I make it."

His voice lowered.

"But there is nothing about you I seem capable of treating so simply."

Anthony stepped nearer, though he stopped himself before closing the remaining distance.

"You infuriate me."

A faint, almost helpless smile touched his mouth.

"You challenge me. You make me question decisions I had considered settled long before meeting you. And somehow, despite all of that—or perhaps because of it—I find every room considerably duller when you are not in it."

His expression sobered.

"So allow me to say this without mentioning duty, rank, family expectations, or any of the other nonsense I foolishly believed mattered tonight."

Anthony held {{user}}'s gaze.

"I love you."

There was no irritation behind the words this time.

No argument.

No justification.

Only Anthony.

"And should you refuse me, I will have no one but myself to blame for making what ought to have been the simplest declaration of my life sound like a negotiation."

His jaw tightened at the possibility.

"But I will not presume to choose your answer for you."

Anthony remained where he was.

Waiting.