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Simon Arthur Henry Fitzranulph Basset—the baby who possessed more names than any baby could possibly need—was
Literally my first thought
The babe was too young for lectures on land management and responsibility, so the duke left Simon in the care of his nurse and went to London, where his life continued much as it had before he’d been blessed by parenthood, except that he forced everyone—even the king—to gaze upon the miniature he’d had painted of his son shortly after his birth.
I love that he basicaly made a wallet photo but like a full on painting. How extra
If he couldn’t be the son his father wanted, then by God, he’d be the exact opposite . . .
Ooo yes hit that rebellious teen phase xD
“Dash it all! If you don’t marry me, who will?”
Ewwwwww pick me boy not taking no for an answer. Save her Simon
The words, “I believe the lady asked you to stop,” rested on the tip of his tongue, but it seemed that he wasn’t fated to play the hero tonight, after all, because before he could make a sound, the young lady pulled back her right arm and landed a surprisingly effective punch squarely on Nigel’s jaw.
YAAAS GIRL GET HIM!
The girl let out another sigh, a soft, breathy sound that Simon somehow felt across his entire body.
Oh he's down bad immediately
“And how will we do that?” He gave her a disarmingly lopsided grin. “I haven’t the faintest idea.” For a moment Daphne forgot to breathe. Just when she’d decided that her would-be rescuer was irredeemingly arrogant, he had to go and smile at her like that. It was one of those boyish grins, the kind that melted female hearts within a ten-mile radius.
Simon staggered back a step. He suddenly felt physically ill, as his brain finally processed the fact that she had thick, chestnut hair. The famous Bridgerton hair. Not to mention the Bridgerton nose, and cheekbones, and—Bugger it all, this was Anthony’s sister! Bloody hell. There were rules among friends, commandments, really, and the most important one was Thou Shalt Not Lust After Thy Friend’s Sister.
“Who would have thought I could be so terrifying?” Daphne murmured, thinking of all the men who thought of her as a jolly good friend and nothing more. “How wonderful.” Simon stared at her as if she were insane, then muttered, “I’m not even going to question that statement.”
A woman's goal is to strike fear into the hearts of men
Lady B is not likely to look both ways when she barrels across a ballroom with three daughters in tow, and the Lord help us all should she decide to don metal-toed boots.
“Why don’t you just find someone to marry and put yourself out of your misery?” She shot him a sharp look. “Are you asking?” Simon felt the blood leave his face.
DO IT
Good God, if she could sense all that through his shirt and coat, what must he be like— Daphne colored red. Deep, dark red. “I should give my entire fortune for those thoughts,” Simon said, his brows rising in question.
“Good God, I know exactly what is going on in his brain right now, and it has nothing to do with poetry and roses.” Simon pictured laying Daphne down on a bed of rose petals. “Well, maybe roses,” he murmured. “I’m going to kill him,” Anthony announced.
Simon was so sweet when he was grumpy.
Hyacinth pondered that for a moment. “If you decide to marry my sister—” she said. Daphne choked on a biscuit. “—then you have my approval.” Simon choked on air. “But if you don’t,” Hyacinth continued, smiling shyly, “then I’d be much obliged if you’d wait for me.”
I love Hyacinth
“Any man, you’ll soon learn, has an insurmountable need to blame someone else when he is made to look a fool.”
But even though Daphne’s dance card was now full within minutes of her arrival at any ball, and even though men fought for the privilege of fetching her a glass of lemonade (Daphne had almost laughed out loud the first time that had happened), she found that no evening was truly memorable unless Simon was at her side.
She's got her heart set on him
Colin’s emerald eyes grew uncharacteristically serious. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
Oh he's clocked her
Many a woman has been ruined by a single kiss.
“It—it isn’t you. If it could be anyone it would be you. But marriage to me would destroy you. I could never give you what you want. You’d die a little every day, and it would kill me to watch.”
Is he infertile or something? Did they have ways of knowing that back then?
Finally she did the only thing she could think of to delay the duel. She punched Simon. In his good eye. Simon howled in pain as he staggered back. “What the hell was that for?” “Fall down, you idiot,” she hissed. If he was prostrate on the ground, Anthony couldn’t very well shoot him. “I am certainly not going to fall down!” He clutched his eye as he muttered, “Good God, being felled by a woman. Intolerable.” “Men,” Daphne grunted. “Idiots, all.” She turned to her brothers, who were staring at her with identical expressions of openmouthed shock. “What are you looking at?” she snapped. Colin
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I love Colin too
Although This Author is not allowed in White’s, she has reason to believe that the official odds concerning the marriage of the duke and Miss Bridgerton were 2–1 for.
Why do I feel like Lady Whistledown is actually a dude. And one we've met
He’d been thinking a lot about soothing remarks and gentle consideration. He was going to try to be a good husband to her. She deserved at least that much.
So small but so sweet
He quirked a brow, which caused her to grumble to herself, which of course caused him to want to kiss her. Everything made him want to kiss her. It was starting to grow quite painful, that.
She's your wife. You can kiss her anytime you want
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes grew positively electric. “I can teach you,” he whispered.
SCREAMING BARKING
“Didn’t anyone tell you not to laugh at a man when he’s trying to seduce you?”
Nah. If you can't express joy I don't want it
She crossed her arms. “Then tell me.” “I will never have children,” he hissed. “Never. Do you understand?” “No.”
Because you won't tell her why. You owe her that much
To say that men can be bullheaded would be insulting to the bull.
“Can you look me in the eye,” she whispered, “and tell me that when you pull from my body and give yourself instead to the bed you’re thinking about me?”
This is agonizing
She should be furious with him—blast it all, she was furious with him!—but it was difficult to maintain appropriate levels of anger when he looked so pathetic. Besides, with three brothers, she’d had some experience with drunken nitwits.
He shifted restlessly, and Daphne felt the strangest, most intoxicating surge of power. He was in her control, she realized. He was asleep, and probably still more than a little bit drunk, and she could do whatever she wanted with him. She could have whatever she wanted.
I don't like what she's insinuating
She’d egotistically thought that she could heal him, make his heart whole.
And you might have. With time. Not by SAing him
Anthony was studying the ceiling, Benedict was pretending to inspect his fingernails, and Colin was staring quite shamelessly.
Of course he was xD
“And if you say that’s because you lot barged into her home like a herd of mentally deficient sheep, I’m disowning all three of you.” All three men shut their mouths.
she has the bloodiest big mouth in London, and ever since she heard me calling you ‘Dear Heart’ at the theater last month, I have not been able to show my face at my clubs.” “Is it so very unfashionable to love one’s wife, then?” Daphne teased.
“The Duke of Hastings does not need to economize,” Simon said dryly. “Really?” She turned to the next page, murmuring, “I shall have to remember that the next time I go to the dressmaker.”
he spent a week holed up in the stables, working with his leatherworker to devise a special pack that would hold Anthony on his back while he held the baby Benedict in his arms.
Out here inventing the baby bjorn
Kate hadn’t minded the insult. She’d heard it said on more than one occasion that one could not consider oneself “arrived” until one had been insulted by Lady Whistledown.
she’d always be afraid of electrical storms, no matter how often she told herself she was being silly;
I see a trope on the horizon
Can it be that the viscount read This Author’s most recent column and, in that perverse manner all males of the species seem to endorse, decided to prove This Author wrong?
My first thought. Do it for spite
So now it appeared that all he had to do was charm the sister. And how difficult could that be?
How difficult indeed
She knew what he had to be about, that the only reason he’d included her in the gesture was to impress Edwina, but blast it, no one had ever brought her flowers before, and she hadn’t known until that very moment how badly she’d wanted someone to do so.
Why is every other suitor a dumbass? Its just common courtesy to bring the other ladies flowers. Simon knew this
“I really shouldn’t provoke you. It’s not very well done of me, is it? But I’m afraid I just can’t help myself.” He grinned roguishly and held up his hands in a helpless manner. “What can I say? You do something to me, Miss Sheffield.”
“What I need to do,” Mr. Berbrooke said jovially, clearly unaware that Lord Bridgerton was likely to murder the first person who opened his mouth, “is finish repairing this curricle.
This man is the most brain dead loser to ever walk the planet. Philippa deserves better than this
It has come to This Author’s attention that Miss Katharine Sheffield took offense at the labeling of her beloved pet, “an unnamed dog of indeterminate breed.” This Author is, to be sure, prostrate with shame at this grievous and egregious error and begs of you, dear reader, to accept this abject apology and pay attention to the first ever correction in the history of this column. Miss Katharine Sheffield’s dog is a corgi. It is called Newton, although it is difficult to imagine that England’s great inventor and physicist would have appreciated being immortalized in the form of a short, fat
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This. This is the best Whistledown to date
There was a lighted lantern on a desk, and as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she realized she was in some sort of office.
Oh jeez she would stumble into his study. Where he's probably bringing the opera girl back to
Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. “Is everything all right?” Maria called out. “Perfect,” Bridgerton answered, although he sounded vaguely distracted.
Bet he can see yu in the windows reflection or some shit
He was going to tan her bloody hide until her hide was bloody well bloody.
Damn he got STRONG feelings about her
“You, sir,” she nearly spat out, “have no honor.” His eyes blazed and one of his hands shot out to grip her chin. He held her that way for several seconds, forcing her to meet his gaze. “That,” he said in a deadly voice, “is not true, and were you a man, I’d call you out for it.”
Simon kissed Daphne and you tried to kill him for insulting her honor. Now you kiss Kate and the same rules don't apply to you??
