DEAR JULIETTE ▹ Anthony Bridgerton

xii

What did he live for?

To be frank, Juliette did not know.

"I offered this advice to Daphne and I believe it will do you well too," Lady Bridgerton began. "Marry whoever is your greatest friend, for if you do you will live a blessed life of love and happiness."

She knew Violet's words were of good intention, but they caused a surge of bitterness to taint her chest. After Lady Whistledown's scathing review some while ago, Juliette's options have dwindled. At the beginning of the season, the drawing-room of the DuBois house filled to the brim with callers. Now, she was lucky if Lord Blackwood made an appearance. In which she was always grateful when he did.

Daphne Bridgerton did not have that problem.

Juliette was not bitter against Daphne. She was happy for her friend.

Only for love. Juliette will only marry for love. Yet, Juliette was not fortunate enough to have the privilege to marry her greatest friend. She once thought she would, but that is no longer an option nor a possible reality.

Juliette sipped her tea and placed it down on the table. "Thank you, Violet. I will keep that in mind."

"Juliette, my dear, I have some matters I'd like to discuss with Violet. in privacy," Lady DuBois said, offering her niece a kind smile.

"Oh, yes, indeed!" Lady Bridgerton agreed, her tone pure with excitement. A twinkle of mischief danced in her eyes. The impish action erased the cumulative effects of ageing from her sweet face. Turning to Juliette, she spoke, "Juliette, I am sure Daphne is somewhere, please do find her."

. . .

Either, she was the victim of possession, or more likely, intoxicated with a dose of unconscious curiosity. Nonetheless, Juliette felt drawn, as if she was being tugged by the heart in a certain direction. Led by Ariadne's string through the labyrinth of her very own heart. Without a mere thought, she ascended the stairwell and navigated the halls with ease. Relying on memories as she followed the pull of her chest to a particular part of the house.

The skirt of her deep blue dress brushed the wooden floors as she strolled. Enamoured by the beauty of the Bridgerton home. Juliette attempted to push aside every memory that arose, yet it was quite a feat. The ghosts of her past dwelled at the forefront of every thought as she followed the steps of her heart. Juliette, lost in her mind, unaware of where she was wandering.

With every portrait and expensive vase she passed, a new memory resurfaced. It was all quite jarring. A nightmare that seeped into her reality. The Bridgerton house, the house of ghosts.

Absentminded, Juliette trailed her fingers on the polished wood of a narrow table flush against the wall. Upon the table sat a vase of beautiful flowers—red roses and baby breath. No doubt, a gift from one of Daphne's many callers. Daphne Bridgerton was the diamond of the season, thus, she received gifts as such. Juliette came to a sudden pause. A shaky breath fell from her lips. She stared at the delicate petals of the roses. Captivated by their beauty as well as their haunting nature. She was a victim of her own merciless thoughts. Juliette inattentively brushed her fingers against a petal

The white porcelain vase was a stable feature of the Bridgerton house. It sat on that particular table since Juliette's childhood. Every summer, she would pass by the expensive vase with Anthony at her flank. At times, it held lilies and other times it was carnations. Juliette especially loved when the vase held white roses. Every time, the Bridgerton son would seize her wrist. His touch was of a gentle and tender manner, bringing her to a sudden halt. With a small smile donning her lips, she would turn around with rouge cheeks. His eyes held a story far more beautiful than the stars in the sky. Every time, Anthony Bridgerton would pluck the most beautiful flower from the vase. And, his following actions were always predictable. Yet, Juliette's heart warmed each time, welcoming the familiarity.