#nurturesmind

"I have every intention of eating the food, Miss Bridgerton. Have you ever considered that it's the complete opposite? That food would rather not be eaten at all? Perhaps our hors d'oeuvres are sentient and are secretly begging for you to choose one over the other." There's a glimmer of mischief in his dark green eyes as he makes a show of glancing longingly at the nearby table of food and then back to her. "Would you like me to grab you a sacrifice?"

Unfortunately for her, Wendell Bambleby is long-winded on just about any topic. "Cambridge does have some incredible food. My very favorite cafe serves the most delectable croissants. Perhaps just as good or better than those the French make." Did he sense a hint of bitterness in her tone with regard to the topic of university? "I promise I think about a great deal more than food. For example, I am also always thinking about where my next cup of coffee will come from. Or tea. I'm not too particular."

❛        YOU  HAVE  THAT  LOOK  ------------      ❜               the  one  that  just  screams  that  she  has  something  to  say  but  is  currently  biting  her  tongue.          he  understands  -----  he  gets  the  familiar  urge  to  blurt  out  everything  he’s  ever  thought  whenever  she’s  near.          his  brows  raise  slightly  as  he  leans  forward  ,  fingers  pausing  their  work  over  the  press. 

[  *  !  *  ]   juliette  cai  was  always  dressed  to  impress  ,   especially  now  that  she  was  staying  with  the  bridgertons  ,   as  they’d  taken  her  in  to  host  juliette  for  the  social  season  .   something  about  her  mother  having  a  connection  to  their  late  father  ...   either  way  ,   she’d  found  herself  liking   @nurturesmind​  of  them  all  .   though  ...  if  the  duchess  stuck  around  more  ,   juliette’s  sure  she’d  like  the  redhead  as  well  .  

             “  no  ,   see  ,   my  mother  thought  london  would  save  me  .  ”    juliette  tells  the  girl  with  a  fringe  ,   looking  over  to  the  person  ...  who  she  would  be  living  with  for  the  next  few  months  .    “  shanghai  ,    i’m  too  well  known  ;   new  york  made  me  too  western  ,   and  now  everyone’s  having  a  gall  about  me  wearing   the  color  red  ,  ”   juliette  mutters  ,   arms  crossing  at  the  brunette  .    she’d  come  for  REFUGE  ,   little  did  the  bridgertons  know   (  outside  of  anthony  )  ,   from  the  war  in  her  homeland  and  the  dangers  of  america  .  

             her  silks  were  a  bit  darker  ,   intricite  ,   form  fitting-ish  ,  and  woven  with  literal  gold  that  often  made  people  stare  .   and yet  ,   when  people  met  juliette’s  eyes  ,   they’re  usually  met  with  firey  anger  .   that  was  something  the  bridgertons  have  yet  to  experience  of  juliette  .  

“   no,   it’s   not   benedict.   it’s   your   other   favorite   brother.   ”    he’s   joking   with   her,   clearly.   feet   swing   off   the   couch   to   let   @nurturesmind​   sit   beside   him.    “   he   should   be   back   soon   ——   but   his   classes   seem   to   be   running   later   and   later   by   the   week.   ”

     truth  be  told,  daphne  has  only  one  goal  in  mind  that  afternoon:  talking  to  eloise.  she  might  have  told  her  mom  she  was  coming  for  an  impromptu  visit,  it  was  certainly  more  than  that.  upon  receiving  lady  whistledown’s  newest  edition  in  clyvedon,  daphne  had  come  to  london  with  simon  in  a  haste.  simon  did  not  think  it  a  good  idea  as  she  was  very  much  pregnant,  but  daphne  wanted  to  be  there  for  eloise,  as  she  had  been  there  for  colin  after  his  scandal.  and  here  she  is.  knocking  gently  on  the  door  which  used  to  be  hers,  the  oldest  bridgerton  daughter  lets  out  a  sigh.  ❝  eloise,  might  i  come  in?  ❞

"Have you been writing all morning?” he said by way of greeting, having been standing in the doorway to the office that had slowly become hers over the past few days. He’d only been there a few moments, but he’d revelled in the fact that his presence had gone unnoticed by she who was likely the most perceptive person he’d ever met. Except when she was sleeping ( and sometimes not even then ) he rarely got to watch her, especially motionless. She was quite still at her desk, and he noticed immediately that her fingers were stained with new and old ink. It didn’t take an inspector to guess that she’d been writing letters -- that was, after all, how he’d first been introduced to her. The thought brought the faintest smile to his lips, soft creases made around the corners of his mouth that hadn’t held a smile terribly often before she’d graced him with her arrival. Rubbing his hands together, he let himself into the edge of the room, rather unsure of himself. “May I ask with whom you are corresponding?”