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He did it. He actually did it.
Anthony Bridgerton joined an online dating service to prove his mother wrong.
And to support her new business venture, of course. He was not a monster.
Last year, his mother and Lady Danbury came to him with the business proposal. No, they didn’t need his financial support—they were both wealthy in their own right. They came to him because they wanted his brain.
Not necessarily his CEO, business-mogul one, but the “single billionaire male over 40” he was. They wanted to know everything about what dating was like for someone like him.
He laughed at first. He thought it was a joke.
But they didn’t even flinch. Violet Bridgerton and Agatha Danbury were forces of nature on their own, and when they joined forces, they had the power of a hypothetical Category 7 hurricane. One that carried people away to wherever they wished, and got whatever they wanted.
So instead of resisting, he walked over to the bar cart in his study, poured himself a stronger drink than he typically went for at four in the afternoon, and told them all about his dating-world frustrations. He hadn’t realized before that he could probably write a whole thesis about the subject, but in summary, his main problems were: money, influence, and good looks.
While every other person in the world would consider these advantages or even solutions, for Anthony Bridgerton they meant attracting all sorts of people who were almost always interested only in that.
And as much as he considered himself good at reading people, he was still just a guy. A simple one, at that. Fluttering eyelashes, curves for days, plump lips, vanilla body spray—and he was halfway gone. Most of the time he didn’t think much of it, it was perfectly fine for casual and fleeting encounters. Not so much for long-term relationships.
The fact that he had recently been crowned Sexiest Man Alive only made it worse. The number of message requests had gotten so out of control that he officially hired Hyacinth to manage his online presence. She had been doing it in one way or another for years, giving him pointers on captions and what pictures to share. But now it justified giving her a full-time position.
Hyacinth was kind of perfect for the job, too. Among all his siblings, she was probably the one who had the most positive things to say about him. It made sense—he likely acted his best around her. At the same time, she also had his bulldog attitude and wasn’t afraid to shut people down when necessary.
So after expressing all his thoughts and feelings on the subject, Violet and Agatha exchanged a look and smiled. While his mother reached inside the burgundy leather business bag Anthony had given her for Christmas, Agatha began to explain their idea—a luxury matchmaking service.
Once an application was approved, the two would meet with the client in person to get to know them better. Next, they would build a curated portfolio of blind matches for their client based on compatibility. Individuals would then join a custom-built platform designed as a dating app, but only with the potential matches selected for them.
Violet handed Anthony a folder with mockups Gregory had created. What made it stand out from other platforms of the same kind was that it stripped away appearances.
No photos. No voice. No video.
Just words, personality, and connection.
Anthony was intrigued. That alone would eliminate his biggest obstacles.
Agatha then explained that once two clients from the same dating pool matched, they would chat anonymously for ten days.
“The perfect opportunity to gradually peel back layers and form a deeper bond,” he remembered Violet beaming.
He raised a brow at that. Ten days sounded oddly specific.
The two matriarchs must have noticed it caught his attention, because once again they glanced at each other and smiled.
The catch? At the end of those ten days, they would have to make a choice: hit the “propose” button or lose each other forever.
Anthony was perplexed. It seemed too radical in this modern day and age, and honestly a bit too dramatic, but Violet and Agatha's goal was clear—they only wanted to attract individuals whose end goal was marriage. No months of conversations going nowhere. The two firmly believed that when you know, you know.
And because apparently the lowest divorce rate was two centuries ago, the whole idea had been inspired by Regency era courtship practices, when most marriages were arranged using similar criteria. Anthony was pretty sure that was definitely not the reason for low divorce rates, but that was a problem for their marketing team to handle.
So after a few months of developing the software, with Gregory at the helm, and working out the logistics with the help of an enthusiastic Daphne, Violet and Agatha were ready to soft-launch their enterprise.
With Anthony as their first client—and hopefully, their poster child.
If they could make Anthony Bridgerton, billionaire CEO, find love and propose to a virtual stranger in ten days, they could make anyone do it. Their words.
In hindsight, it sounded even more absurd that Anthony had agreed to test their system. Regency times were not exactly known for love matches, but maybe his mother and his godmother were onto something.
He also had to give props to Gregory. The application looked sleek and very user-friendly. Anthony was still getting used to seeing his younger siblings as working adults, but between Hyacinth working for him and Gregory being involved in this enterprise with their mother, seeing them use their skills professionally made him feel proud.
And old.
Maybe too old to be doing this.
But then again, he wasn’t in it to find love—least of all to get married, contrary to what the professional matchmakers who wrangled him into this believed. Anthony’s approach was going to be purely technical: analyze app features, watch for bugs, and write down his feedback. So when he inevitably crushed their spirits and wrecked their plans, he would at least have constructive notes on the user experience to offer.
—
Anthony was getting anxious. It had been three days since he had selected his top three options from his personalized dating pool, and he had yet to be matched with any of them. He wasn’t sure how many people were participating in this experiment—Violet and Agatha were very adamant about keeping everyone’s information private—but he assumed it was an even number at least.
He wasn’t used to not being picked. In sports, in business, even in love, he was always the first choice. But so far, the virtual anonymous marriage mart had him questioning himself. Maybe Benedict’s dumb joke was actually true, and there was no way anyone would choose Anthony solely based on his personality.
He took a long look at the part of his profile that was visible to others again. Hyacinth had done a good job of painting him as human and truthful as possible without revealing too much. Though a few conclusions could be drawn from the obligatory Regency-inspired pseudonym she had chosen. All in all, he liked it. He would definitely pick himself, he didn’t understand why no one else had yet.
It was both humbling and annoying.
He was almost texting Greg to report it as a bug when a notification came in.
“LadyButterfly is a match!”
Of all his top choices, he thought her being interested in him back was the least likely. Her profile was whimsical—and that was probably the first time in his life he had ever used that word. She liked fantasy books, pressed flower art, and playing the piano. She also had a whole paragraph about junk journaling her travels, and in any other situation Anthony would have stopped reading at the word junk, but it actually sounded kind of interesting.
The more he thought about it, she seemed like someone Benedict would be captivated by—and it immediately, and irrationally, made him jealous.
So the match itself was a surprise.
But not as surprising as the first message he received from her.
LadyButterfly: First and foremost… Why are sewer covers round?
He blinked. He had to read it again. He pushed his glasses up his nose. That was easily the weirdest conversation starter he had ever seen. It should have bothered him more, but he felt unexpectedly… intrigued. Being tested for his rational reasoning.
Before he could dwell on it, he needed to think of something quickly so she wouldn’t assume he had to look it up. Luckily, logic came easily to him.
LordStallion: Geometry. If the cover were square, it would have to be placed back perfectly every time. Being round, it fits with minimal effort.
LadyButterfly: And it can be turned in any direction without falling down the hole.
LordStallion: Constant diameter.
LadyButterfly: Which also makes the covers more resistant, as they distribute the weight of vehicles passing over them.
LordStallion: Good point. They’re also heavy, so it helps being able to roll them instead of carrying them.
LadyButterfly: So impressive.
LordStallion: Me or the sewer covers?
LadyButterfly: The covers. Only time will tell if you are as reliable, safe, and sturdy as they are.
LordStallion: Never in my life did I think it would be a compliment to be compared to a manhole.
LadyButterfly: I’ve been told more than once that I tend to see beauty where no one else does.
LordStallion: That’s a great skill to have.
LadyButterfly: You kind of sound like a hiring manager.
LordStallion: Me? You’re the one who started this conversation with a quirky interview question pretentious companies use to test logic and creativity, only for you to never use either again after you’re hired because the job sucks.
LadyButterfly: So am I the pretentious company in this scenario? Sussing you out for skills to see if you’re a good fit for the lifelong position of being my husband?
LordStallion: I wouldn’t say *pretentious.* We were in the same dating pool, after all. We’re supposed to be deserving of each other, at a minimum.
LadyButterfly: You are so funny.
LordStallion: How so?
LadyButterfly: I like your choice of words. And by the way, I didn’t mean to offend you by saying you sound like a hiring manager. I’m into the big boss thing.
LordStallion: I thought we weren’t supposed to know what the other does for a living.
LadyButterfly: We’re not. It’s just the energy you’re giving.
LordStallion: So, how many basketballs would fit in this chat?
LadyButterfly: Considering the max characters per message is 4k, that’s 4,000 basketball emojis with no spaces times however many messages we can send before we both realize we’re wasting precious time out of the 240 hours we have before making a life-changing decision…
LadyButterfly: 312k basketballs
Anthony stared at his phone, smiling like an idiot. Was this really all it took for him to be attracted to someone without seeing them? Talking about geometry, everyday math problems, and a rant about nonsensical hiring practices?
LordStallion: 78 sounds like a reasonable number of messages containing only basketballs, yes.
LadyButterfly: Did I get a point for that?
LordStallion: 2 points.
LadyButterfly: So generous.
LordStallion: I do take my eight hours of sleep seriously, so we technically only have 160 hours to get to know each other. Considering we both have demanding careers, it’s more like 120.
LadyButterfly: About the length of a professional certification, then. We can work with that. Not enough time to actually become an expert in anything, but good enough to get a pretty certificate with your name on it.
LordStallion: A marriage certificate, in this case.
LadyButterfly: ba dum tss
LordStallion: ?
LadyButterfly: Don’t say you’re a ba-da-bing kind of guy. Might be a deal breaker.
LordStallion: Really? Choice of drum sting phonetic is that high on your list?
LadyButterfly: It can say a lot about a person’s personality. Just like the pseudonym they choose to find a spouse on an anonymous app 👀
LordStallion: My little sister picked it. I like horses.
LadyButterfly: I was definitely not expecting that to be the reason, but it also makes sense? You seem straightforward. And that’s so sweet about your sister.
LordStallion: I think you two would get along.
LordStallion: So, based on your reaction, what is your pseudonym supposed to tell me besides the fact that you like butterflies?
LadyButterfly: That I prefer to be a walking metamorphosis rather than having a set, old opinion about everything.
LadyButterfly: And it’s my favorite Mariah Carey album.
LordStallion: I’m afraid I’m the definition of having a set, old opinion about everything.
LordStallion: And I don’t know enough Mariah Carey albums to have a favorite, but I like her as a singer.
LadyButterfly: Sounds like we balance each other out, then.
—
“So, is the app working well for you?” Gregory asked, taking a seat next to Anthony on the couch at Bridgerton House.
The family usually got together on Sundays for brunch, and Anthony tended to linger longer now that Gregory and Hyacinth were home from uni for summer break.
“Yes, it’s been great so far,” Anthony said, clearing his throat, keeping his tone neutral.
“I’m glad you’re liking it. I’ve only had minor bug fixes since launching it .”
“So… how much do you know about each user to set up their profile?”
“Not much more than what you see, really. It’s fairly simple.”
Anthony nodded a couple of times. “But they are all real people, right?”
Gregory shot him a confused look. “Of course they are. Why?”
“I’m just curious. The mystery has its advantages, but I also want to make sure I’m not having a conversation with some sophisticated form of artificial intelligence that’s been fed information about me and therefore knows exactly what to say or how to act to keep me engaged.”
“Paranoid, much?” Gregory let out a dry laugh. “All I know is that after Mum and Agatha meet with them in person, I get their details to create the profile. Now, if the person you matched with is feeding your conversation to AI to get clever answers, then…”
Anthony’s eyes widened. He had not thought of that—but maybe LadyButterfly was too witty to be coming up with all of that on her own.
“Find a way to block it,” Anthony replied firmly.
“Ant…”
“I can’t believe you didn’t think of that before.”
“Wow. So much for me doing a good job with this, I guess,” Gregory scoffed.
Anthony sighed, rubbing his face. “This is people’s lives you’re dealing with. How is it acceptable to fool them into thinking they’re having a real, good conversation?”
“Let me get this straight. Things are actually going well with your match, and you automatically think it’s because she doesn’t exist?”
“Well, you established she exists. But what if she’s using AI to sound more compelling?”
“Or… Mum and Agatha are good at what they do, and they found someone as amazing as you are.” Gregory tapped Anthony’s shoulder. “And hopefully less paranoid.”
—
LordStallion: Lightning round.
LadyButterfly: Good morning?
LordStallion: Morning. I’m going to ask some questions, and you’ll answer in one word. 1–3 seconds max.
LadyButterfly: When I said I liked big boss energy, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind…
LordStallion: Is that a yes?
LadyButterfly: Yes, as long as you answer the questions too.
LordStallion: Deal. Ready?
LadyButterfly: 🥸
LordStallion: Still not sure if that’s a yes.
LadyButterfly: It means I put my glasses on, so yes, I’m ready.
LordStallion: Oh.
LadyButterfly: Someone has a glasses kink. Or is it the mustache? 🤔
LordStallion: 😂
LadyButterfly: He laughs!
LordStallion: Funny. Can I ask my questions now?
LadyButterfly: S’il vous plaît, monsieur.
LordStallion: Parlez-vous français ?
LadyButterfly: Oui. Wait, was that really one of your questions?
LordStallion: No, but it seemed like a good opportunity to ask.
LadyButterfly: Look at you being spontaneous.
LordStallion: I have my moments.
LadyButterfly: So, lightning round?
LordStallion: Early bird or night owl?
LadyButterfly: Night owl.
LordStallion: Early bird.
LordStallion: Summer or winter?
LadyButterfly: Spring.
LordStallion: That’s not an option.
LadyButterfly: Fine. Summer.
LordStallion: Winter.
LordStallion: City or countryside?
LadyButterfly: Beach. Just kidding! Well, it’s true, but… city.
LordStallion: Countryside.
LordStallion: Movies or books?
LadyButterfly: Books.
LordStallion: Books.
LadyButterfly: Interesting. You seem too on the go to sit down and read.
LordStallion: I mostly do audiobooks.
LadyButterfly: Ah, that explains it.
LordStallion: They still count as books.
LadyButterfly: I think they’re closer to movies than books.
LordStallion: So if you read a book out loud, is it not reading anymore?
LadyButterfly: But you’re not the one reading it 👀
LordStallion: Okay then, movies.
LordStallion: Go-to karaoke song?
LadyButterfly: Dancing On My Own.
LadyButterfly: Robyn’s original version, of course.
LordStallion: The superior one.
LadyButterfly: YES! Thank you. What’s yours?
LordStallion: My Way, Frank Sinatra.
LadyButterfly: Somehow I have the clearest possible image in my head without knowing what you look like.
LordStallion: I’ll take it as a compliment.
LadyButterfly: Do you like singing?
LordStallion: When I’m in the mood, yes.
LadyButterfly: Ominous. What gets you in the mood, then?
LordStallion: For singing? I’m not sure there’s anything specific… It usually happens when I’m happy or celebrating. Alcohol may or may not be involved.
LadyButterfly: What about the not-singing mood? 😏
LordStallion: I’m always in the mood for that.
LadyButterfly: Okay, Lord Stallion.
LordStallion: Invisibility or super strength?
LadyButterfly: Really? Changing the subject so soon?
LadyButterfly: Invisibility.
LordStallion: Invisibility.
LadyButterfly: 😱
—
Anthony was sitting at his desk at work, and for once, he wasn’t looking at his computer screens. He was on his phone, going through every conversation he and LadyButterfly had exchanged so far. He was almost certain he had never talked to anyone this much without knowing them in person.
She was funny and smart, but also warm and kind—which, in his experience, was a rare combination. They weren’t supposed to talk about income, demographics, or anything that might lead to certain biases, so they had spent most of their time learning random facts about each other and sharing personal preferences.
And as much as he had felt a connection with her right away, it was all still very much on the surface. Not enough to…
No. That was crazy. There was nothing they could talk about that would make him propose in seven days. But the idea of never talking to LadyButterfly again made his stomach twist.
“Knock, knock. Anyone home?” Simon tapped on the desk, standing in front of him.
“Simon,” he said simply, looking up at his best friend, brother-in-law, and COO.
“Anthony,” Simon replied with a grin. “Are you ready?”
Anthony narrowed his eyes, tilting his head in confusion. Then he glanced at his screen, where a meeting notification popped up with a 15-minute warning.
“Shoot. I forgot all about it.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.
“Hey, man, it’s okay if you can’t make it. I’ve got this covered.”
“I appreciate it.”
Simon blinked. “Wait—you’re really not coming to the meeting?”
“You just said you’ve got it covered. Do you or do you not?”
“I do. It’s just that in the twenty years we’ve been working together, you’ve rarely missed a meeting.”
Anthony let out a dry chuckle. “It seems I’ve been doing all sorts of things I’ve never done before lately.”
Simon raised his brows and took a seat across from him. “And have you decided yet if that’s a good thing or not?”
“I’m not sure yet. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone is a willing participant. Even you are.”
“Yes—willing to test this out, see what works and what doesn’t. I didn’t join this to get married like everyone else, they just think I did. What will happen to her in a week when I don’t propose? Will she be devastated or relieved? I…”
“Anthony, she’ll move on to her next match. It’s not a big deal.”
Anthony scoffed. “It’s easy for you to say. We talk throughout the day and more at night. We’re part of each other’s lives…”
“Isn’t this only Day 3 of you guys talking?” Simon tried to intervene, but Anthony wasn’t done.
“…I wait eagerly to see what absurd question she’ll ask next. It’s… how do you go from that to zero contact?”
“If you like her so much, just propose at the end.” Simon suggested with a shrug.
“Are you listening to yourself?” Anthony let out an indignant laugh. “I can’t propose to someone I just met. Actually, that I haven’t even met.”
“Why not? You’ve tried the traditional methods before, and they never got you anywhere.”
“Did Agatha put you up to this? Or my mother?”
“Funny you mention it, but no. But ten years ago, I was you, remember? I avoided marriage and children like the plague. Then one day, Daphne texted me because she was trying to get a hold of you while you were in a meeting—and one text led to another. But she was dating that Fred guy at the time and feelings got complicated, so your mother told her she should be with someone who felt like a friend. So she dumped him.”
Anthony looked at Simon, one hand supporting his jaw, still leaned back in his chair. “Okay, I know that part of the story. What made you change your mind?”
“Because it became inevitable. How could I not want to marry her? She’s incredible.”
—
LadyButterfly: So, what made you want to join a speed marriage service?
LordStallion: In summary, my mother.
LadyButterfly: Ouch. That’s not very romantic. You still live at home?
LordStallion: No, no… that sounded worse than it is. I’m the oldest child and the only one still single in a socially unacceptable way. I have some challenges with how… others see me, and she thought this was the perfect solution.
LadyButterfly: That’s actually pretty similar to my case. The difference being my mother does not think this will work at all. I’m sort of a lost cause when it comes to the “marriage mart.”
LordStallion: She sounds awful. And wrong.
LadyButterfly: We’ll see. At least we both get two other options if this doesn’t pan out, which is somewhat more hopeful than being outright dismissed.
LordStallion: You think we will not work out?
LadyButterfly: It’s still early to tell, I guess. But as imaginative as I am, I like keeping myself grounded in reality, you know. Hoping for the best but expecting the worst…
LordStallion: “…Are you gonna throw the bomb or not?”
LadyButterfly: “Forever young… I want to be forever young.”
LordStallion: “Do you really want to live forever? And ever?”
LadyButterfly: Did we just break into song?
LordStallion: I believe we did.
LadyButterfly: My sisters would get so irritated when I started randomly singing whenever they said something that reminded me of a song.
LordStallion: You did that too? I used to do that when I was younger, but I was, in fact, trying to irritate my siblings.
LadyButterfly: Such a menace.
LordStallion: That feels like forever ago.
LadyButterfly: What happened? You’re too serious to get on their nerves now?
LordStallion: Oh, I still irritate them. But now in the same way a child gets frustrated with their parents every once in a while.
LadyButterfly: You really embraced the elder child’s caretaking role, then.
LordStallion: I had to. Our father passed away a long time ago. I was a freshman in uni.
LadyButterfly: I’m so sorry. That must have been devastating.
LordStallion: It changed everything, having to take care of everyone.
LadyButterfly: Sounds like you are past the time of taking care of yourself too.
LordStallion: Feels like I’m past the time for a lot of things.
LadyButterfly: Not to boast or anything, but I feel like I have all the time in the world.
LordStallion: We balance each other out, then.
LadyButterfly: Hey, that’s my saying.
LordStallion: I like it. And I like you.
LadyButterfly: I like you too.
LordStallion: So, you’ll let me use your phrase?
LadyButterfly: I’ll allow it. Use it for good causes only.
LordStallion: It hurts me that you think I could be behind any evil causes.
LadyButterfly: Okay, prove me wrong. What would you do if you were Spider-Man for a day?
LordStallion: Can I be Iron Man instead?
LadyButterfly: Look who’s the rebel now, not answering the question.
LordStallion: Fine. I would probably web-swing down an avenue with tall buildings since that’s the closest I could get to flying, and stop to help people along the way if I heard any cries for help.
LadyButterfly: Hmm, kind of boring but good.
LordStallion: How is almost flying and saving the world one neighborhood at a time boring?
LadyButterfly: I was just looking for more action.
LordStallion: I would let the action come to me and respond accordingly.
LordStallion: I don’t go looking for trouble, unless I have to.
LadyButterfly: What about a Spider-Man kiss for me?
LordStallion: Darling, I don’t have to be Spider-Man to give you upside-down kisses. Just something to hang on to.
LadyButterfly: Are you for real? Full upside down, hanging in the air, legs flexed like a butterfly?
LordStallion: The whole shebang.
LadyButterfly: I’m so attracted to you right now I will overlook all your phonetic choices.
LordStallion: I don’t think anyone has been attracted to me without knowing what I look like.
—
“What actually happens when someone hits the Propose button?” Anthony asked Violet as he sat at the kitchen island while she prepared tea for them.
“Well, if the other person says yes, we fly them both to a dreamy couple’s retreat at an exclusive resort where they’ll meet face-to-face for the first time,” Violet said with enthusiasm. “They will spend a couple of weeks there doing different bonding activities and, of course, lots of alone time for exploration and connection. There’s a great workshop they attend about physical intimacy…”
“Jeez, got it, thank you.” He cut in before she could get into more details. “That sounds like… a lot.”
“It is, but it’s when you start building upon the foundation you have. The idea is that you fall in love with someone’s intellect and personality first, and now your bodies need to catch up too.”
Anthony winced. His mother had eight children in this day and age—he knew very well she was well-rounded on the topic. He just didn’t like hearing her talk about it.
“Bodies catching up, great. Then what?”
“At the end of the two weeks, they pick out rings for each other, and their families arrive for their destination wedding.” Violet clapped her hands once with a smile. “Isn’t it wonderful? Minimal stress and planning.”
His eyes widened. “Minimal planning, yes. Not sure about the stress part.”
“Why the questions, my dear? Are you considering proposing to your very first match?” Violet asked, excitement lighting her eyes.
“Just curious, Mother.” He cleared his throat.
Violet poured the hot water into the mugs. “Would you at least share how things are going? Any feedback so far?”
Anthony looked at his mother and gave her a small, sincere smile. He had spent his whole life watching her take care of their home, him, and his siblings. When Hyacinth and Gregory started school, she slowly began helping with fundraisers and corporate events for Bridgerton Corp, planning and organizing. She enjoyed it, but it wasn’t entirely hers. Once Hyacinth was settled in uni, Violet and Agatha went on a cruise around the world and, apparently, helped three couples aboard get married by the ship’s captain in the six months they were traveling. They came back eager to put their matchmaking skills to use.
Their business idea went through several versions over the past couple of years before they presented the final concept to Anthony. He was proud of her initiative, and her tenacity to start something new in her sixties.
“I admit I was skeptical at first, but you ladies are doing a wonderful job,” he said, reaching for his mug.
“That means a lot to me. Thank you, Anthony.” Violet smiled, rubbing the hand that held his mug. “It’s so hard for me not to say a peep about your match, you have no idea.”
“It’s hard not to ask you anything about her, for sure,” he replied with a chuckle.
“And that’s the only hard part?” Violet asked tentatively.
“What do you mean?”
“We haven’t always seen eye to eye. We’ve had our rough patches. I just hope you’re giving this woman a fair chance—and not letting the fact that I picked her for you cloud your judgment and… desires.”
He was taken aback. Yes, he had his reservations about this dating format, but it hadn’t consciously crossed his mind that his mother wouldn’t know how to choose well for him. He felt a pang at the thought that this had been troubling her.
“You always wanted the best for us. We might not have always agreed on what that meant, but I trust your judgment in this.”
—
LordStallion: What’s the worst date you ever had?
LadyButterfly: I was in uni and had just joined this social club to try to make friends. They put together different events throughout the year, and a few were dating-related, so we alternated between the girls and guys whose turn it was to ask or be asked out. Anyway, I was new and didn’t know anyone, so I got paired with this dude. Fine. Except he didn’t want to pick me up, and when I said I didn’t have a car, he sent me the transit schedule.
LordStallion: Please tell me you canceled right away.
LadyButterfly: I wish. I was feeling the pressure to be nice and accommodating, the new girl trying to fit in, so I just went along. We met at the restaurant, and he ordered the most expensive dish with all the extra trimmings, fancy drinks. He was having a ball. Kind of ironic, because we went to a club after dinner and his friend asked me to dance, not him.
LordStallion: I feel embarrassed on behalf of the male species.
LadyButterfly: I think the most disappointing part is that it was just the first of a series of unfortunate dating events that spanned over a decade. Somewhere along the way, I got upgraded from “first date only” to “the last step on the ladder before settling down.” Eventually it got me thinking maybe I was the problem all along.
LordStallion: I assure you that’s not true.
LadyButterfly: Don’t worry, I definitely know it was them now. Egotistical much? 🤭
LordStallion: Not at all. There’s nothing wrong with knowing your worth.
LadyButterfly: I kind of hate that you won’t let me talk bad about myself.
LordStallion: As long as you hate me, not yourself.
LadyButterfly: Such a gentleman.
LordStallion: It’s the least you deserve.
LadyButterfly: Thank you. And hey, if this is the best it gets for us, the law of probability says your next match will be the one.
LordStallion: I highly doubt it.
LadyButterfly: I have a reputation to uphold.
LordStallion: Did I say something wrong?
LadyButterfly: What do you mean?
LordStallion: You keep talking like you’re sure we’ll end when the clock runs out.
LadyButterfly: Like I’ve said before, I’m just trying to be realistic. Whatever happens, it’s all good.
LordStallion: You’re completely fine if we never talk again?
LadyButterfly: What I’m trying to say is that… whatever you decide should be for you and not anyone else. And I’ll do the same.
LordStallion: Can I ask why you picked me?
LadyButterfly: Hmm… you didn’t sound like anyone I’ve dated before. And since it had never worked out with those types, I thought maybe someone completely different was what I needed.
LordStallion: That checks for me as well.
LadyButterfly: I thought it was because you believed I’d get along with your younger sister 🙂↕️
LordStallion: Am I only allowed to have one reason?
LadyButterfly: Not at all. You can have as many as you like.
LordStallion: Thank you.
LadyButterfly: I’m shocked you haven’t dated anyone as cool as me though 😌
LordStallion: Definitely not. I’ve dated people too similar to me in the past. Things usually started really well, then crashed and burned in the end.
LadyButterfly: If it burned, at least it was hot?
LordStallion: That’s what you got from it? 😂
LadyButterfly: Am I wrong?
LordStallion: …
—
LadyButterfly: Lightning round.
LordStallion: Ready 🥸
LadyButterfly: Oh, so you wear slutty little glasses too 🫠
LordStallion: I think they’re just called glasses?
LadyButterfly: 😂
LadyButterfly: Now I’m too distracted by the image I don’t really have of you in glasses, and I don’t remember the questions I was going to ask.
LadyButterfly: Wait, I think I wrote them down.
LordStallion: You have a list of questions? Who does that? 😉
LadyButterfly: Turns out I like lists and color-coded spreadsheets. Thanks for corrupting me.
LordStallion: Now I’m the one distracted by your organizational skills.
LadyButterfly: Art of Seduction 101.
LadyButterfly: Found it! Okay—cats or dogs?
LordStallion: Did you really have to write that question down?
LadyButterfly: Can we go back to 30 seconds ago when you were complimenting my list?
LordStallion: That was before knowing what you actually had in there.
LadyButterfly: You can’t take back a compliment. Cats or dogs?
LordStallion: Cats
LadyButterfly: Cats
LadyButterfly: Wow, our answers match on the first question? We’re so in sync.
LordStallion: It shouldn’t be that surprising by now 😉
LadyButterfly: I sense an exponential increase in winking emojis. Are you flirting with me? 😏
LordStallion: Shouldn’t be that surprising either 😏
LadyButterfly: Why do you keep distracting me from asking my questions? These are important!
LordStallion: S’il vous plaît, mademoiselle.
LadyButterfly: Ten days later, you became me and I became you.
LordStallion: Bet they didn’t expect this from their social experiment. So, what are the other very important things you want to know about me?
LadyButterfly: Cake or pie?
LordStallion: Cake
LadyButterfly: Cake
LadyButterfly: Going to the gym or playing sports?
LordStallion: If I were younger, sports. Now, gym.
LadyButterfly: Gym. I was never picked to play any sports.
LadyButterfly: What’s the strangest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?
LordStallion: Are these still lightning-round questions?
LadyButterfly: No, just regular now. Take your time 😌
LordStallion: Okay… probably the one about me being a vampire.
LadyButterfly: 🤯
LadyButterfly: I wish mine was as cool as that.
LordStallion: People spread rumors about you too?
LadyButterfly: Not as exciting, though. But I’ve apparently been pregnant for ten years.
LordStallion: That’s a lot of children.
LadyButterfly: 😂
LordStallion: Do you want to be pregnant for real one day?
LadyButterfly: That’s a curious way of asking if I want kids 👀 With the right partner, sure. It’s not something I see myself doing on my own. What about you?
LordStallion: I confess I haven’t gone after that, but a lot that’s happened these past ten days isn’t something I ever saw myself doing either. When it comes to romance, I’m more action than words, so this has been… eye-opening. Especially not being able to talk about work. I thought I’d have nothing to say.
LadyButterfly: Unsurprisingly, I’m the opposite. Great with words, not so much with… action.
LordStallion: It wouldn’t be fair if you were good at everything. I’d think you were a bot.
LadyButterfly: 😂
LadyButterfly: You’re not bad with words either. Consider me properly captivated by them. And by you.
—
Anthony was the happiest he’d ever been.
His mother was going to be insufferable.
At first, he only wanted to prove her wrong. Then, he really did find someone he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. Though it was satisfying one-upping Benedict, who’d been too quick to joke about someone falling in love with Anthony based on his personality alone.
At that moment, nothing else made sense but this previously completely nonsensical thing—a marriage proposal at the push of a button.
So he did it.
Anthony Bridgerton tapped the green Propose button on his screen.