Emily Baker

Benedict Bridgerton had fallen all out of sorts. Fallen out of love with his art, with life, and even his love life. He barely attended parties of soirees anymore. He kept himself utterly aside. It was only after a friend took hold of his wrist, cleaned him up, and dragged him into a carriage to their private art studio that he'd finally gone out.

Her friend was supposed to be here with the artist any moment. Not mentioning who it was going to be. Not that it mattered much to Emily, she didn’t mind being the subject. As she waited Emily began to stretch out a bit to keep her muscles warm. She became so focused, she nearly missed the sound of the door opening.

That was when Emily locked eyes upon the mysterious artist her friend was bringing. She recognized him faintly now, Benedict Bridgerton. Because her family were members of the Ton she had seen the Bridgerton family before but never really spoken to them.

Gently, he took hold of her hand, and gave a respectful nod back to her. “Baker?” He asked with an arch of his brow, and a squinting of his eye “Forgive my rudeness, but have we met before? The name sounds awfully familiar. Though, I may be confusing you with another, as the name is a common one.”

It was after he’d finally finished stumbling in his words, that he’d realised he was still holding onto the woman’s grasp. His curious expression fell down into one of bashful embarrassment.

“My apologies,” he uttered, removing it, and returning it back to his side. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

Emily hadn’t noticed Benedict was still holding onto her hand as they spoke with one another. Though she didn’t make a big deal of when Benedict got flustered and moved his and out of the way.

Benedict Bridgerton had fallen all out of sorts. Fallen out of love with his art, with life, and even his love life. He barely attended parties of soirees anymore. He kept himself utterly aside. It was only after a friend took hold of his wrist, cleaned him up, and dragged him into a carriage to their private art studio that he'd finally gone out.

Her friend was supposed to be here with the artist any moment. Not mentioning who it was going to be. Not that it mattered much to Emily, she didn’t mind being the subject. As she waited Emily began to stretch out a bit to keep her muscles warm. She became so focused, she nearly missed the sound of the door opening.

That was when Emily locked eyes upon the mysterious artist her friend was bringing. She recognized him faintly now, Benedict Bridgerton. Because her family were members of the Ton she had seen the Bridgerton family before but never really spoken to them.