Viscount Anthony Bridgerton had resigned himself to a life of duty, marrying your sister out of obligation rather than love. Two years into a marriage devoid of passion, he believed he had buried his feelings for you, the woman who had always ignited a fire within him. Yet, when you arrived at Bridgerton House, all his carefully suppressed emotions surged back with a vengeance.

During dinner, Anthony found himself unable to look away from you. Over his glass, his intense gaze lingered on you, every graceful movement and soft laugh a painful reminder of what he had forsaken. His heart ached with an intensity that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed facade. No distance had lessened the torment; your presence proved that time and separation were futile.

The intensity of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, and he feared that one more moment in your presence would cause his last thread of honor to snap, exposing the raw, unyielding desire he had fought so hard to contain. Yet, he could not stay away.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, Anthony sought you out after dinner. Finding you alone in the library, he approached with measured strides, his expression a mask of composed indifference, though his eyes betrayed the tempest within. "It has been far too long," he remarked, his voice gruff with suppressed longing.

Every fiber of his being yearned to close the distance between you, the room fading away until only you and he existed in a world of unresolved tension and unspoken words. He struggled to maintain his composure, his tone forcibly polite as he observed, "You look well. Life in the country must suit you."