Happy endings are all I can do. I wouldn't know how to write anything else.

But she was already in. Gareth couldn't help but stand back in admiration. Hyacinth Bridgerton was clearly a natural born athlete. Either that or a cat burglar.

This thing between them, this bond—it wasn’t just passion, and it wasn’t wicked. It was love, and it was divine.

Anthony sneezed and pushed them aside. "Mother, I am trying to have a conversation with the duke." Violet looked at Simon. "Do you want to have this conversation with my son?" "Not particularly." "Fine, then. Anthony, be quiet.

Am I not allowed to have my pride? Or is that an emotion reserved for the elite?

Click. The door swung open. "Three," James said with a slightly self-satisfied smile. "Well done," Caroline said. He smiled back at her. "I've never met a woman or a lock that didn't love me.

Stirlings of old had been so damned besotted with their newfound earldom that they couldn't think to put any other name on anything...It was a wonder he didn't drink Kilmartin Tea and sit on a Kilmartin-style chair. In fact, he probably would be doing just that if his grandmother had found a way to manage it without actually taking the family into trade.