𝓚͟𝒂͟𝒕͟𝒆͟.

@_stoicfire your friend. Marriage is a title, a piece of parchment that binds us together. If I’m to spend my life with you, I want laughter, a person of equal intelligence who derives joy from literature and stories… we’re quite alike, Anthony, shouldn’t we make the most of it?”

@_stoicfire salvage what dignity she had left by uncurling her hand, eyelashes fanning her cheeks in rapid blinks. “I’m well-acquainted with the terms of our arrangement but there are concessions…” She says with a confidence, her posture straightened. “I require more. I only wish to be»

Inching inside @_stoicfire’s study with a tray of assorted poultry and dairy goods, along with a kettle of tea, Kate’s setting it down on his large, rectangular desk with pinched brows. He looked worn, jaded. Had he been awake all night? “Restless night?” She asks softly,»

@vicecount holds her heart? Especially when he had a permanent frown on his face, arms crossed like he was scorned. Perhaps there’s other ways of lightening his mood (and she just happens to be in the favored position, odds of that). “Call a truce, viscount. I won, square!”

@vicecount voice raises an octave, as if she found the very idea to be preposterous. “I’ll have you know, I played with integrity! It isn’t any fault of mine that you’re not as skilled. Play… better.” It was petulant, she knows. How was she meant to defend herself against the very man who»

Sitting on a quilted blanket beneath the sturdy mahogany desk, fingers hover over the rook before knocking @vicecount’s king, officially in 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚. Then with a cunning grin, Kate clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth, resisting the temptation of relishing in»

@_stoicfire combing through the nape of his neck, if only to offer temporary comfort. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Kate’s lips pull upwards, “I suppose I… missed you,” her voice is low, quiet. “You didn’t come to bed around the time you normally do. Causes for concern, does it not?”

@_stoicfire unmoving, frozen like a shell; she’s only seen him like this a few times but never to this extreme, he looked lost. Could someone lose themselves in their own grief? Had he? Her question was quickly resolved when his body slumped against her in disquiet resignation, a hand»

@dutifulrake his brow. “I hate it when you’re right…” Her tone softens, no longer laced with combat, but rather, a resigned sigh. “Did you come all this way for my wellbeing, Mr. Bridgerton? Or was it my company you wish to solicit?”

@dutifulrake lower lip curling into her cheek as she’s done times before, reeling over it. But then she made a mistake of looking up at him, seeing the earnest concern across his face. How could she deny him then? Rising from her seat, her hands cradle his face, lips searing a kiss against»

has anyone seen his wife?

/. Daily reminder that I love @dutifulrake’s Anthony very much (all of 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓎’s accounts, really). So happy to write with you again, my dear! 💛

Nudging @Regency_Rake with her hip, lips curling coyly as they stroll through Rotten Row. It seems he’s returned from his travels, has he not? Or is he passing through?

ᅠ ᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ‘ 𝑖 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 … ⠀⠀ ᅠ ᅠ