He had asked her to help him edit his writing, a task she found thrilling. She was, of course, overjoyed that he had entrusted this critical job to her. It meant he trusted her judgment, thought she was smart and clever, felt that she could take what he had written and make it even better. But there was more to her happiness than that. She’d needed a project, something to do. In the first days after giving up Whistledown, she’d reveled in her newfound free time. It was like having a holiday for the first time in ten years. She’d read like mad—all those novels and books she’d purchased but never gotten around to reading. And she’d taken long walks, ridden her horse in the park, sat in the small courtyard behind her house on Mount Street, enjoying the fine spring weather and tipping her face up toward the sun for a minute or so at a time—long enough to bask in the warmth, but not so long as to turn her cheeks brown. Then, of course, the wedding and its myriad details had consumed all of her time.
What do You think about Romancing Mister Bridgerton (2004)?
