It's me. Hi. I have a problem. Rewriting stories and filling the gaps so that it satisfies my itch for something to be perfect.
Here is the first chapter of rewritten Bridgerton season 2. Kill me now.
CHAPTER 1 : DEAREST GENTLE READER
Dearest Gentle Reader,
It seems as if the season has begun in splendor. With all the matchmaking mama's crowding the eligible bachelors of the season, and demure young ladies smiling ever so gently to capture the attentions of gentlemen, this author cannot help but lie in wait to shine some much needed light on the scandals being hidden underneath. This author senses that the beginning of this season would be much more chaotic indeed, for whoever but The Capital R Rake, known to us all as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, has finally decided to take a Wife. The Viscount was seen many times in the company of multiple eligible misses on promenades, walks, and enjoying ices, in all but one week. Although not much can be said about the enthusiasm of the Viscount himself, for the misses seemed taken aback by his genteel manners, or lack thereof. Nevertheless, the Viscount was not seen more than once in the company of any of these gentle ladies. I for one, cannot wait to see him meet his match. After all, given the absolutely thrilling love match made by his sister, the present Duchess of Hastings, last season, one can only hope the color of love paints the whole family.
It has come to my utmost attention that her grace has given birth to the next Hastings Heir. The newborn Earl Clyvedon, is yet to make a public appearance, but one can easily assume that he will take after his father in being a heartthrob.
Speaking of Heirs, gentle reader, I am thrilled to inform you that a most peculiar gentleman has inherited the Featherington estate after the untimely death of the previous Lord Featherington last year. The young Featherington misses, who were still in mourning until last week, seem to have entered the gentle society again to make their own matches, now under the wing of the new Lord Featherington. One can only wait and watch as to how this seedling sprouts, and if there might be fewer citrus colors sported by the Featherington misses at last.
Finally the seedlings of our gentle society. It seems that my unanticipated words after such a long time bore heavy weight on certain young debutantes, whose first presentation to our Majesty was interrupted. However, I am of the belief that we can all pick up where we left.
Yours truly,
Lady Whistledown.
A/N: Are you ready for it?