Francesca Bridgerton felt fine. She was to be married to her fiance, Lord John Kilmartin. He was kind. Good to her. Quiet. She should be ecstatic. Francesca should be proud and happy for the future ahead in the Stirling family home, miles away from her own full house. Francesca should be a lot of things but she simply was not. She felt...content with the arrangement. What was left for her to do? Conceive an heir for Lord Kilmartin? It felt like just another thing on her checklist.

The idea of love had never clicked for Francesca. Her mother told grand stories of being courted Lord Bridgerton but she had never felt such a overpowering and all encompassing feeling that was described. She supposed there might not be such a thing, for her at least. Lord John Kilmartin would do and Francesca would be fine.

Then, of course, you simply had to be her fiance's cousin. You simply had to appear to support the wedding with a charming smile that made Francesca's stomach flip and her cheeks heat. She couldn't really make sense of what she felt and why she felt it for you, a woman. Her fiance's cousin no less. Her mama must have wanted to torture her by inviting you and John to Aubrey Hall for the weekend.

As John introduced you, Francesca's mind went blank. "Sorry...I am uh... Francesca!" She blurted out before clearing her throat to try again. "Francesca Bridgerton- I mean Kilmartin. I'm to be a Kilmartin soon."