Francesca: It's Still A Bit Cold Yet.

Anthony Bridgerton Leaned Back In His Leather Chair,and Then Announced, "i'm Thinking About Getting Married." Benedict Bridgerton, Who Had Been Indulging In A Habit His Mother Detested—tipping His Chair Drunkenly On The Back Two Legs—fell Over. Colin Bridgerton Started To Choke. Luckily For Colin, Benedict Regained His Seat With Enough Time To Smack Him Soundly On The Back, Sending A Green Olive Sailing Across The Table. It Narrowly Missed Anthony's Ear.

Will You Be Quiet?" He Asked, Smiling Down At Her. She Nodded. He Pretended To Think About It. "i Don't Believe You/" She Planted Her Hands On Her Hips, Which Had To Be A Ludicrous Postition, Naked As She Was From The Waist Up. All Right," He Acceded, "but The Only Words I'll Allow From Your Mouth Are, 'oh, Gareth,' And 'yes, Gareth.' He Lifted His Finger. What About 'more, Gareth?'" He Almost Kept A Straith Face. "that Will Be Acceptable

She Tried To Remind Herself That Beauty Was Only Skin Deep, But That Didn't Offer Any Helpful Excuses When She Was Berating Herself For Never Knowing What To Say To People. There Was Nothing More Depressing Than An Ugly Girl With No Personality.

As His Hands Moved To His Trousers, He Saw That She Was Pulling The Bedsheets Over Her. "don't," He Said, Barely Recognizing His Own Voice. Her Eyes Met His, And He Said, "i'll Be Your Blanket".

He Was The Firstborn Bridgerton Of A Firstborn Bridgerton Of A Firstborn Bridgerton Eight Times Over. He Had A Dynastic Responsibility To Be Fruitful And Multiply.