‘Bridgerton’ is all about high society in early 1800s London. It follows Bridgerton family and their aristocratic pals. Love story between Daphne and Simon? Classic. Stunning sets, gorgeous costumes and a plot that twists like a pretzel. Since 2020, it has captured hearts. Who knew fancy dresses and drama could be so popular?

Meet the characters from Bridgerton

Daphne Bridgerton

Okay, Daphne is basically the poster child for “grace with a secret backbone” — she looks like a porcelain doll at balls but she can also plot circles around half the ton when she sets her mind to it. She’s endlessly kind, a little naive sometimes (like, bless her heart she thinks everyone means well), but also fiercely protective of her family which is where the real fire is. She loves dresses in a way that’s borderline worship but also sneaks out for stupid little rebellions, like walking without a chaperone or reading in the garden at dawn. Somehow she balances being the perfect duchess and the secretly stubborn heroine, which is kind of impossible but also totally her.

Simon Basset

Simon is the broody, gorgeous duke with a chip on his shoulder and a heart that’s been mysteriously dented — he snarls at flirtation but actually kind of adores it, paradox city. He’s arrogant in the best way, deeply private (yes, stoic, yes, dramatic), and then will explode into ridiculous vulnerability when things get real, which is both tragic and kind of adorable. He hates being pigeonholed as “the Duke” yet treats his title like a cloak he can’t quite take off; also I think he hates small talk but secretly likes piano? maybe violin? Either way, very intense.

Penelope Featherington

Penelope is the unassuming genius of low-key observations — shy, painfully earnest, and secretly this sly, brilliant gossip engine (like, that whole Lady Whistledown thing? she eats, sleeps, breathes it). She is awkward in the best way, loves needlework and little lists, and hoards romantic daydreams like they’re currency; she also will watch people for hours and pretend she wasn’t watching at all. She acts like a wallflower but has a volcano of feeling inside, and her loyalty is as stubborn as her habit of wearing ridiculous hats.

Anthony Bridgerton

Anthony is the loudest, most dutiful older brother ever: stern on the outside, secretly weeping into his foxglove on the inside, you know the type. He’s constantly balancing duty and desire and usually decides duty should win — until it doesn’t, and then chaos ensues because he has no practice at softness. He loves a proper duel or a properly staged argument and also has weirdly tender gardening habits, like naming plants after regrets. He’s a big romantic in the “I will protect you at all costs, also I’ll probably glare a lot” sense.

Philipa Featherington

Philipa (yes, spelled like that — she owns it) is the eldest Featherington who is full of grand plans, melodrama and a very specific sense of fashionable tragedy. She’s hopelessly romantic, prone to daydreams and very dramatic declarations about love, which is charming and occasionally infuriating. She’ll gossip like it’s a sport but then offer you an embroidered handkerchief when you cry, so honestly she’s complicated and slightly inconsistent and that is perfect.

Prudence Featherington

Prudence is the middle sister who thinks of herself as the most refined weapon in the social arsenal — obsessed with looks, posture, and making a scene in the best possible way. She can be very vain and theatrical (the flirting is basically a performance), but she also has odd flashes of kindness like giving the cats names with aristocratic flair. She loves fashion shows like they’re moral obligations and also, sometimes, reads poetry at midnight alone — which is not at all what you’d expect, right?

Lady Violet Bridgerton

Lady Violet is the warm, razor-tongued matriarch who balances mishaps with matchmaking like it’s an art form she invented; she is both the society’s backbone and its secret troublemaker. She drinks tea with an expression that could double as lightning and will defuse or ignite a scandal depending on how her biscuits are buttered. She’s charmingly moral, oddly mischievous, and has this uncanny way of making one-liners that feel like family remedies. Also, she probably has a handkerchief collection and uses them to signal moods; I’m not saying it’s true but I’m not saying it’s false.

Eloise Bridgerton

Eloise is the champion of “why does everyone assume marriage equals happiness?” — loud, sharp, brilliant, and allergic to social niceties. She’s got a million questions and zero patience for nonsense, which makes her the most fun kind of troublemaker; she studies things like a spy but then will run off to a bookshop and stage a protest for tea. She claims she doesn’t want romance but then will have this very dramatic, eyebrow-raising flirtation with danger/ideas/books — pick one. Also, she keeps a list of conspiracies and cross-references them with floral prints; that could be true.

Colin Bridgerton

Colin is the roguish charmer who loves travel, storytelling, and making everyone laugh at the exact wrong moment — like a human sunshine with a bit of an eye roll. He’s endlessly flirtatious and spontaneous, which is wonderful until he realizes feelings are a thing, then it becomes a whole messy novel. He likes pranks, sketches people’s faces in the margins of his sketchbook, and then pretends to forget both the prank and the sketch because he’s awkwardly modest. Also he’s annoyingly likable and thinks overly dramatic speeches are a sport.

Benedict Bridgerton

Benedict is the thoughtful, artsy middle sibling who would rather be sculpting in a greenhouse than attending another ball (but he’ll go and make it slightly more interesting, quietly). He’s loyal, a bit dreamy, and so observant it hurts; also he has a weird habit of comparing people to statues and then apologizing. He is less flashy and more quietly fierce — like he will protect his family with a spoon if necessary — and also probably has an imaginary catalogue of ideal poses for life.

Hyacinth Bridgerton

Hyacinth is the adorable little whirlwind who says whatever she thinks and somehow tells brutal truths wrapped in nursery rhyme; precocious, theatrical, and impossible not to adore. She’s clingy in the best way, dramatic in a “this is the end of everything” kind of way when you deny her pudding, and then deeply insightful about people in moments that make everyone stop. She wants attention, will boss you, then read to you, then insult your hat — all within five minutes, honestly. Also she collects tiny things like buttons and uses them as currency for favors, maybe.