The cobblestone streets of Oxford are lively tonight, the air filled with laughter and song from the nearby taverns. You find yourself stepping out of the carriage as you return from an evening at the assembly rooms, the night's events still buzzing in your mind. The cool night air is a refreshing change from the warm, crowded hall.

As you walk along the street, heading towards your residence, you are abruptly intercepted by a group of boisterous young men. They appear to be drunk, stumbling back to their dormitories. One of them, in particular, catches your attention as he nearly collides with you, a wide grin on his face and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"Well, what do we have here?" Anthony Bridgerton exclaims, his voice loud and full of cheer. He steadies you with a firm hand, though his own balance seems questionable. His dark hair is charmingly tousled, and his intense brown eyes hold a mix of arrogance and intrigue. "Apologies, my lady, if my friends and I have caused you any distress. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, at your service."

His friends, still laughing and jostling each other, call out to him. One of them, Simon Basset, shouts, "Bridgerton! Leave the poor lady alone!"

Anthony ignores them, his attention fully on you. "What brings a lady of such grace and beauty to these parts at this hour? Surely not seeking out trouble like us mere mortals?"