fourteen

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"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚, 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰'𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒚,"

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"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚, 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰'𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒚,"

"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚, 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰'𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒚,"

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warnings: idk if you can taste spicy food when someone mentions it, if so some of you might want a glass of water

chapter two: 1502 words


LORD ANTHONY BRIDGERTON WAS TO LOSE HIS STATUS as a rake in one week's time. It was the most chaotic I had seen the family all summer.  The whole Bridgerton household was in a complete panic in preparation for the wedding.

Well, the whole house except me and Eloise. We had had a quite pleasant week, brushing hands in the hallway, stealing kisses behind doors.

Or as we were currently doing, sneaking out mid-day and having a picnic in the small clearing about 15 minutes from the general public.

Her head lay in my lap, dark curles sprawled around her face, one of her hands atop mine, gently stroking my thumb. The sunlight that shone down on her face gave me the illusion that she was a roman statue.

No artist could ever paint her as beautiful as she looked in my eyes. From the way, her eyelids fluttered, to the bridge of her nose all the way down to her fingertips.

She was art.

"You do realize I can see you staring at me," Eloise broke the silence.

"Yes, El that is what people do when they have feelings for someone else,"

"They stare at them until they're so uncomfortable that they want to flop over?"

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