#Cavender Family

[mai-tries-sims]

Merry Christmas from the Cavenders

[spamsmcgee]

No thought just Cowboy Yuki.

[roseeycreates-blog]

✨Welcome August✨

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 10: The Orangery

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: 18+ - explicit sexual content Word count: 3.9k

Masterpost Previous chapter Next chapter

Author's Notes: Well folks, we're 1/3 of the way through this story. You have more than earned your smut 😉 Enjoy ����

Sophie managed to reach her quarters without encountering anyone who would see the state she was in. She cried for what felt like hours, muffling her sobs with her fist until they eventually subsided into whimpers. She kept fearing that someone would knock on her door either because they heard her, or because Benedict had sent someone after her. But mercifully no one appeared.

Once she had lost the energy to cry she stared at the ceiling, lost in the turmoil of her thoughts. Benedict had kissed her, had said he’d dreamed about her, had made it clear he desired her. It was everything Sophie had ever wanted, but it was also the most painful reality she could imagine. She had known he desired her at the masquerade but that made sense. He had assumed she was a member of the ton and someone worthy of his attention. But as a housemaid he could only see her as a dalliance, a pretty plaything that he could easily discard.

Should she reveal her identity to him? What did she think would happen if she told him about the masquerade and her true feelings? He’d probably be incensed that she had not explained it earlier. Then what? Would he confess that he loved her too and run away to marry her, breaking all the standards of society and risking a lifetime of reproach? No. More likely he would turn her in to the authorities or laugh her out of the room. She was no better than a girl with a silly infatuation. He was a man from one of the most dignified families of the ton with wealth, power, and prestige. She suddenly felt incredibly small. Small and stupid. 

She needed to leave Aubrey Hall. Hell, she could sneak out tonight the same way she had from the Cavender’s. She had the same amount of money in her purse, not having been paid yet by Benedict. But she didn’t relish the idea of hiking through the dark alone, especially now that she was even deeper in the countryside. The money from Aubrey Hall would spare her so much misery, and poor Benedict would probably assume that she saw him as no better than Cavender if she took off in the middle of the night after being subjected to his advances, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

No, she would wait until morning and ask to collect her wages from Mr. Dewitt. Then she would formally take her leave and board at an inn until she found a new position. But should she speak to Benedict before she left? What would she say? Would he even want to see her?

Her thoughts continued to race until she noticed the grey light of morning brightening around her door. She felt wretched, tearstained and dazed. She splashed water on her face, changed her dress and donned her cloak. Fresh air would help her clear her mind and formulate a plan before the rest of the house woke up.

The morning air was chilled and misty. It soothed her lungs and brought her a degree of energy despite her sleepless night. Sophie had always enjoyed cooler weather. It reminded her of her childhood at Penwood Park, set on a windy heath. She moved from the back doors of the house across a lawn and into the statuary garden. She wandered among the hedges and benches observing the likenesses of cherubs, muses, mythic heroes. In the pre-dawn shadows they looked more ominous than inspirational, but Sophie found that appropriate, considering everything she was feeling.

She was inspecting a statue of Artemis with her bow drawn when she heard footfalls behind her. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she whipped around to find Benedict. 

“Sophie,” he greeted her softly. He looked about as good as she felt with his hair a tousled mess, dark circles under his eyes, and clothes disheveled as if he had thrown them on in a hurry and only bothered with half of the buttons.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, though there was no one outdoors but the two of them.

Benedict shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep.” That explained his appearance. Sophie wasn’t sure what to think. If he hadn’t slept either, what had he been thinking about? He had clearly followed her to the garden. Had he been watching for her all night?

They stared at each other in silence. Sophie couldn’t fathom what to say. Benedict looked her over. “You’re leaving?” It was more of a statement than a question and there was a hint of defeat in his tone.

Yes. Sophie should have said yes. But seeing him there, looking distraught and being as exhausted as she was, her true feelings came out. “I don’t know.” She felt as if she was being pulled down into the earth. She wanted to cry, she wanted to collapse, she wanted someone to tell her what to do.

Benedict’s eyes were impossibly sorrowful. He walked toward her, hands extended in a plea. “I’m so sorry if I did anything that upset you. I took liberties.”

Sophie shook her head. “No. You didn’t do anything I did not want.” Her voice was breaking. She couldn’t tell him why she had pulled away but the last thing she wanted was for him to feel like a villain.

Benedict stopped short, his brow beginning to furrow. “And yet you do not want to stay?”

She shook her head again and looked at the ground, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think it would be appropriate.” More meager lies. It was all she had. She hoped to appeal to his reason and class sensibility rather than tell the truth.

He scoffed and crossed his arms, arching a brow. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed how little regard I give to propriety.”

Sophie rooted herself to the spot. She couldn’t let this go on. She wouldn’t be charmed by him again and dragged down a path to heartbreak. Mustering all of her courage, she gritted her teeth. “We agreed this would only be a few days until you were well again and then I would move on.”

“Sod the agreement!” Benedict threw his arms in the air and stalked even closer. He wasn’t holding anything back now. “I know you don’t have anywhere to go yet.”

His words cut into her. He was right, but she wouldn’t be manipulated. She looked up at him, glowering. “Once Mr. Dewitt is awake, I will collect my wages and go.” She hoped that if she said it aloud she would actually follow through.

Benedict balked, blinking at her in surprise. “I see.” There was a snideness in his tone that she had never heard before. “So you will simply take the money and leave. You are that desperate to get away from me?” 

Sophie felt torn in half. Of course she wasn’t desperate to get away from him. Quite the opposite. She wanted to melt into his arms and never let him go. But he was being flippant, acting as if he were entitled to dictate what she could do. He had no idea what it was like to be in her position or to face any real challenge at all. He was starting to make her resent him. “This isn’t just about you,” she growled. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand!” He shouted, closing the distance between them. He grasped her by the arms, pale eyes alight with desperation. “If you don’t find me repulsive, why don’t you want to stay?” His grip tightened and he all but shook her. “Why?”

Sophie could barely breathe, seared through by his gaze. She wanted to scream the truth at him, to tell him who she was, to tell him she loved him, to tell him he deserved better than her. Just as equally she wanted to chastise him, to tell him he was a rich fool who couldn’t simply take whatever he wanted, particularly when it was a person. And she wanted to turn and run. It was all too much and she shouted back into his face, “I just can’t!” Hot tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Her reaction clearly rattled him and his eyes regained their characteristic softness. He released her arms and brought his hands to rest lightly on her back, holding her as if she were made of glass. He steadied himself, eyes searching her face. At last he spoke, his voice devastatingly tender, “I won’t see you cast adrift.”

Sophie could feel herself breaking. Entitled as he was, his heart was pure. She had known it at the masquerade and she knew it now. He was pompous as a circumstance of the lifestyle he had been born into but when it mattered, he cared for people. He cared for her, and it felt so good to be cared for. 

She had run out of defenses. She could only confess the truth through her tears. “I have been adrift all my life.”

Lifting a hand to her chin he tilted her face, questing deeper into her eyes. “Let me be your anchor.”

Then Sophie’s heart was lost. He was her anchor. He was all she had to hold on to for so long, this marvelous, wonderful, infuriating man who had haunted her dreams for years. Meeting him was the best thing that had happened in her toilsome and lonely life. Now he was with her again, wanting her, holding her, his touch painfully sweet. She was tired of hiding, tired of resisting, tired of denying the inevitable. She couldn’t fight it anymore.

She surged up and seized his lips with her own, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him tight against her. Benedict froze, caught off guard but only for a moment. Then his arms held her back just as tightly, his mouth caressing hers, his breath hot on her skin. Her hands moved hungrily, raking through his gloriously soft hair, tracing the breadth of his back, feeling the warmth of his neck and the angle of his jaw as they pivoted to explore each other’s kisses more deeply. He was strength; he was bliss; he was comfort; and in this moment, he was hers. He was so delicious and so beautiful, tears continued to run down her face from pure joy.

With a gentle nibble at her bottom lip, Benedict eventually pulled back. Grinning breathlessly, he took her hand. “Come with me.” 

He led her through the garden and Sophie realized they were headed toward the massive stone orangery. She cast a quick glance around to find the grounds empty and the sun just barely peeking over the horizon.

As soon as Benedict closed the door behind them Sophie was overwhelmed with the sweet scent of citrus and jasmine. She hadn’t yet visited this building and was instantly entranced. With marble floors and vaulted ceilings, it was a veritable jungle of potted tropical trees and vine covered trellis walls. She only had a moment to observe it before she was back in Benedict’s arms, his hands entangled in her hair as he kissed her with a soft moan. She felt giddy, heady with the perfumed air and the breathlessness of his attentions.

They clutched at each other as if fearful to let go, and all the while, they were pressed so tightly against one another she was certain she’d melt into his skin.

“Sophie, Sophie,” he murmured. His lips moving gently along her face until they found her mouth again. “I need you.” He pressed one of her hands against his chest. Even through all of his clothes, she could feel his heart begin to beat even more rapidly, hear his breath coming in hoarser gasps. “Do you feel how I need you?” 

“I need you too,” she whispered. And she did. She’d spent so long dreaming about him, trying desperately to remember the scent of his skin, the sound of his voice. There had been many nights when the fantasy of him had been all that had kept her company. She had been living on dreams, and she wasn’t a woman for whom many had come true. She didn’t want to lose this one just yet.

He pressed her back into a wall of cool stone and kissed her with a newfound fierceness. His tongue swirled around hers while his slender fingers held her face. She gasped as his kisses traveled down her neck and his touch moved across her body. Every sensation seemed to rob her of the ability to breathe. His hands were on her breasts, kneading, teasing, sending a rippling shiver across her skin.

“Benedict,” she murmured, touching the crisp silkiness of his hair. There was a fire burning within her that had been simmering quietly for years. The sight of him had ignited it anew, and his touch was like kerosene, sending her into a conflagration.

He groaned, crashing his lips against hers again, locking one hand on the back of her neck and another around her waist. Sophie was dimly aware that they were moving, that he was pushing her somewhere deeper into the artificial forest. Then somehow she was lying on a bench and he was on top of her while his hand reached to lift up her skirts. 

He seemed so dominant, so powerful, and in that moment, so perfectly hers. A very small part of Sophie’s mind was still functioning, and she knew that she should tell him to stop, to put an end to the madness, but god help her, she couldn’t. Not yet.

His hand stroked her knee then inched upward, squeezing the soft flesh of her thigh. She began to pant with anticipation. She knew where his fingers were headed but was surprised to find that it did not make her nervous. She trusted him implicitly. She wanted this, whatever it was he was about to do.

Benedict smirked as he deftly shifted fabric to expose her womanhood and the cool rush of air made Sophie realize how very wet she was. She would have been embarrassed but before she could even form the thought, Benedict’s fingers were on her and he inhaled deeply with a satisfied grin.

Sophie stared up at him, agape, unable to form words.

“I daresay no one has ever touched you here,” he rasped. Sophie shook her head. No one had touched her there, not even herself, not in the way he was doing it. It was a strange, intensely intimate, and entirely enjoyable feeling.

“Do you like it?” Benedict whispered, still smiling down at her. His nimble fingers switched from smooth stroking to rapid circling, spreading her slickness upward and focusing right on the center of her ache.

He may as well have set a match to her blood. She cried out uncontrollably and arched off the bench, gasping. “Yes! What are you doing?” Her every muscle tightened as he moved his fingers in a particularly wicked manner.  

“Everything,” he returned, capturing her lips with his. “Anything you want.” 

Sophie’s breath grew heavier, her heart started to pound. His fingers continued to dance, relentlessly circling. Something was building inside of her, deep in her gut, coiling, pulsing, making her rigid. She clung on to Benedict for dear life, not knowing where he was taking her but desperate to reach the destination. Anything to quell the ache, the burning that never seemed to stop growing.

“Do you want more?” His voice was husky in her ear.

She had just enough control over her body to nod and choke out a “Yes” as she gripped the back of his neck.

He smiled wolfishly. “Then lie back and let me pleasure you.”

Sophie didn’t know how he could possibly pleasure her more but she was willing to find out. She had to consciously remind herself to breathe because she felt as if she were drowning - drowning under the pressure of Benedict, the heat of his gaze, the thrill of his touch and everything it did to her. As she panted he began to move down her body, trailing hot kisses along her jaw, her throat, her chest. His fingers were still teasing her crest, pressing and circling as she squirmed.

He moved himself lower and lower until he settled between her legs, kneeling on the floor as she lay sprawled across the bench. Now he could see the marvelously slick evidence of her desire. Sophie could feel the heat of his breath against her entrance. It made her shudder and filled her with the most wanton craving. This was so terribly wrong, so terribly naughty. But she didn’t want it to stop. She trembled and gripped the edges of the bench as his fingers twirled faster. 

Benedict delighted in watching her writhe. Every signal from her body was pleading with him for more - her ragged breath, her hums of anticipation, and the way her hips had started to gyrate, ever so slightly, in a waltz with his hand. When he began to feel guilty about the torment he took hold of her quivering thighs and leaned in to taste her, running his tongue up and down her opening. 

Something like a sob escaped Sophie’s throat as she lifted off the bench again. She moaned his name and he moaned back into her flesh. His tongue moved methodically, exploring her folds slowly, repetitively, stopping on sensations that made her whole body tense as she groaned. She tasted like a plum crossed with an orange, or maybe that was just the scent in the air around them. She was sweet and he would polish her off like a dinner plate. He continued moving languorously, savoring her and letting her adjust to the sensation. It was only when her muscles relaxed and she started to push herself back against him that he moved his mouth over her sweetest spot, flicking his tongue across her aching bud.

A cry tore itself from Sophie’s chest, animal and needy. Never in her wildest fantasies had she imagined being kissed like this, tasted like this, teased like this. The indecency of it all shocked her, but her shock drowned out by the wave she felt spreading upward through her body. It was heat and tightness and hunger and she would do anything to fulfill it, to hell with decency. Benedict’s mouth was so warm, especially against the cool air of the orangery. All she could feel, all her mind could focus on were his movements, small but incendiary, on the most sensitive part of her. He began sucking at her, massaging her nerves with fluctuating pressure punctuated by quick darts of his tongue. She whimpered, too overwhelmed to exclaim any louder.

The steady cadence of suction and licking made Sophie’s mind start to cloud. As tormenting as her need felt, she wanted to stay there for hours. She fell into a trance which was only broken by a wholly new sensation. She gasped and looked down to find Benedict slowly pushing a long finger to enter her. Dear god, he was inside of her. It was an odd pressure but rather than feeling painful it simply felt…correct. She knew that a woman’s body was designed to take a man’s and while they weren’t engaged in the full act, this was her first small experience of how that might feel. And it felt wonderful.

Mouth still latched onto her, Benedict raised his eyes to meet hers and it was the most frightfully arousing image she had ever seen. Never breaking his gaze, eyes somehow darkened, he started to slide his finger slowly in and out. The pleasure she felt made Sophie choke and fall back against the bench. His teasing her on the outside and moving steadily inside was too much to handle. Heat pulsed through her core and she felt a sudden spasm deep within.

Benedict released her from his lips and rasped her name. The speed of his probing increased, gliding into her rhythmically. “You feel so bloody good.”

All she could do was moan in acknowledgment, eyes clamped shut. The tightening, coursing feeling was building steadily within her but with his mouth removed it had slowed. She ached for it. She wanted to ride it out before she went mad. 

“Please, Benedict, please,” she could hear herself whining but didn’t care. “I don’t…I don’t know what…this feeling…”

The grin was evident in his voice as he replied, “Don’t worry, you will see.” 

She lolled her head in the semblance of a nod.

“Tell me what you want,” he purred, hand beginning to press into her more forcefully. “What feels good to you?”

Sophie could barely comprehend speech at this point. How could she explain? “I…everything,” she sighed.

She thought she heard a small chuckle. “You like me inside of you, I can tell.”

The cheeky devil. Sophie just mewled with another half-nod.

“Do you like my mouth on you?”

“Yes,” she squeaked, beginning to writhe in desperation. “Benedict…I need it…”

He granted her wish immediately, hot mouth descending on her once again, sucking furiously while his hand began to pound at her entrance. The caresses of his finger and tongue worked together to magnify each other.

Sophie hissed and gripped his hair with both fists. The wave was surging within her, burning her, lifting her out of her own skin. Her toes curled. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to explode, but all she could do was hold her breath and hold on.

Then Benedict did something with his finger, bent it in just the right way that it added to the pressure, massaging undiscovered places within her depths, and it was more than she could bear. The wave broke, roaring to a crescendo and crashing over her every muscle, rippling outward with the most glorious feeling of release she had ever experienced. And it persisted. She had no choice but to submit to it, lying breathless as her body clenched over and over. Benedict groaned against her sensitive bud causing her to spasm harder, drawing out the aftershocks as the sensation slowly ebbed.

Sophie was limp, astonished, and utterly without her faculties. Her body was left trembling and her mind was left entirely blank. She felt as if she were floating, softly held in the weightless embrace of bliss. She had never known such an incredible feeling.

The only thing that drew her back to earth was the gentle attention of Benedict’s tongue. He had withdrawn his finger and was kissing her reverently between her legs. He kissed her crest with a parting lick then moved to her opening, eagerly lapping at her and cleaning her of her slickness. He was so thorough that he entered her with his tongue. It was warm and sweet and absolutely the most sinful thing Sophie could imagine. All she could do was lay back and let him feast upon her.

At last she felt him pulling down her skirt, then he was on top of her, pressing her down with his entire body as he nuzzled and kissed her neck. Sophie weakly wrapped her arms around him, still dazed and panting, filled with wonder and gratitude that the man she loved had just gifted her the most ecstatic experience of her life.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903 @sincere-sarcasm @kmc1989 @makaylan @queen-of-the-misfit-toys

[the-other-art-blog]

As much as I want to see flashbacks of all Sophie suffered under Richard, Araminta and others, I also want to see happy moments. Sophie's life was shitty, but no one is miserable 24/7 or happy.

I want to see the maids and footmen chasing her, looking for her all over Penwood house because she's too good at hide and seek.

I want to see the cook making all these chocolate cakes for her and Sophie sitting on the table with her hands covered in cream.

I want to see her governess congratulating her for being so good at math and French.

I want Mrs. Gibbons to read her stories for bedtime.

I want the servants to plan birthday parties for her.

I genuinely believe they did all of these things and more. They loved her, they wanted her to be the daughter of the house. They saved her life!!!!

I would love to see the servants having inappropriate conversations or language and Mr. Rumsey silencing them because Sophie is present and even though Araminta says she's a maid, they need to be mindful of her.

I bet Mrs. Gibbons and the maids tried to help her but Araminta threatened them with unemployment or more work. Eventually, Sophie asked them to let her do the chores because it would only get worse.

I would also love to see her having a friendship with the other maids at Cavender's house. And of course, I want to see her being friends with the servants at Bridgerton house. The way I need her to be friends with Benedict's valet!

I'll probably not get either of these, maybe a tiny scene? I just want the show to make clear that Sophie experienced kindness. Unfortunately, the people in power were the ones who humiliated her. The Bridgertons were the first family in the ton that treated her kindly, but most of the servants had always been good to her.

Of course, I also want drama downstairs. The Bridgerton's butler did not like her in the books, and I bet a couple of maids and footmen refused to serve her when she became Benedict's wife. But for the most part, servants treated her much kinder than the ton.

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Midnight Sanctuaries (Side B & Side C)

Reimaging An Offer from a Gentleman#3

Synopsis: Maria Beckett should know better. But there was nothing she could do. She craved love, she craved for warmth. And Richard Gunningworth didn’t know better.

But how Benedict Bridgerton knew better.

But how he was, a bit of a fool.

⚠️Trigger Warning: Mentions of sexual assault/ rape/ suicide.

AO3 post from here

Part one from here

“What is it, to woo a woman?”

Benedict Bridgerton spurred on his fifth glass of whiskey, contemplating if he should take the sixth.

“Not a lady, you mean?”

Alice eyed the man suspiciously, wiping the glass with a cloth. She was quite worried, seeing the second son of the Bridgerton family almost drown himself in whiskey. It was true that he had been dwelling in the stalls of the bar for years with a glass in hand, but he seemed to be improving.

“After a refreshing stay in Wilshire, I have gained a new perspective,” explaining to her happily a few days back.

“Well, yes, yes…a lady.” He added hastily.

“You must be at a loss, for a Bridgerton to be suffering in the process of a courtship!” Will laughed wholeheartedly, placing an arm over his shoulder.

“Might I ask who the lucky lady is? Which young debutant has captivated the eyes of a melancholic artist?”

Alice had expected Benedict to burst out in verse, declaring forever love and devotion to a young debutante somewhere in the ton, but his reaction was quite the opposite; instead, he sunk deeper into silence, dipping himself in another glass of wine.

“Isn’t she the one you talked about for years?” Alice asked a little hesitantly, “The women in silver you talked about-”

“What?” Benedict jerked from his intoxication. “No, no, no. Not her. Definitely not her.”

“Then who is she?”

Benedict decided to ignore the question altogether. He knew that he was being selfish, but anger and frustration had been slowly bubbling up in him. As he watched the young John Stirling whisper something teasingly to Francesca as her face flushed crimson pink, as they promenaded in the park arms in arms, giggling away happily about who knows what, Benedict couldn’t help thinking why he couldn’t do the same with Sophie.

He wanted to fill her room with flowers and bouquets.

He wanted to take Sophie to ice cream parlors.

He wanted to ask her for the second Walz at the end of the ball.

All the jealousy, all the longing, all the desire were flaming stronger day by day, and the overwhelming craving was killing him, making him lose his mind. How much he longed to just take her down in the closet or even the hallway, how much he longed to bury himself inside her arms…

“……Why does she keep rejecting me?”

“…So you are being rejected by this mysterious lady of yours? Hence this drinking?”

“How do you know that she’s rejecting me?”

“……You said those words seconds ago, Mr.Bridgerton.”

Benedict softly touched his mouth, regretting that he had let it slip. He knew what others would think of him if they knew he was trying to seduce a maid to be his mistress. He was seen as a respectable gentleman, and he didn’t quite want to lose the reputation he had from his fellow men. Not like Phillip Cavender.

“Well, …I…”

“So she has been rejecting you.”

Alice stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Perhaps, you are not her preference,” Will teasingly added, giving a pat on his shoulder. “No need to pounder, Bridgerton. There will be someone who would appreciate your looks.”

“No, no. No.” He denied quickly, “I am definitely in her preference.”

“How can you be so sure of that, Mr. Bridgeton?” Alice arched her eyebrows.

“Well…”

She said I look like her Prince Charming.

“I just know.”

Alice sighed deeply. Men, she quietly thought. So sure of themselves, not doubting any bit that they could be the reason for rejection. She quietly felt sympathy for the poor girl in question; imagining Benedict Bridgerton trying to wear her down with his charms.

“Have you been sending gifts to this lady of yours?” Will asked nonchalantly. “Perhaps she does not like what you have offered to her…”

Gifts…Gifts!

It suddenly dawned on him that Benedict had never given Sophie Beckett anything, maybe except for an ill-cooked breakfast.

One doesn’t have to be a mistress to be receiving gifts, don’t they?

“Mondrich, you are a great man!”

Already planning out a perfect scheme in his head, Benedict hurriedly slipped down from his chair, quickly grabbed his jacket, and ran to the door. He’ll tip the florist double the amount, he knew how to sneak into Genevieve’s shop at night….

“He’s going to do something awful.”

Alice murmured under her breath as Benedict disappeared from their sight. She wrote down his bills on the piece of paper sighing at the amount. He will have to pay, soon.

“……Why didn’t you stop him then?”

“Because,” Alice replied as she took a glass of whiskey from his hands, drinking it in a swig.“Men can’t realize their mistakes until they truly experience how bad one screwed it up.”

----------------------------------------------

Sophie was exhausted to the bone.

She had been running up and down the house all day long, preparing for the Bridgerton Ball that was coming up next Wednesday. After helping Miss Eloise with the dress in the morning, she also assisted Lady Violet with the penning of the invitation and also helped Hyacinth with her Latin and French. She also secretly mended the tear Miss Eloise had made on her secret escapades, secretly washed the cigarette stain on Eloise’s nightdress, and secretly delivered the letters Eloise had firmly told her; that it is a secret.

She truly adored and admired the Bridgertons.

But she was truly exhausted. Her feet were sore from bustling around London with Eloise’s secret errands in ill-fitting shoes that she had been wearing for years, her hands were cramped from all the writing and the mending she did for the day, and her fingertips were filled with cuts for every time Benedict Bridgeton came into the room.

Sophie wished she could be more calm in front of his presence. Sophie wished Benedict would not look at her so longingly. With his ardent, morning-dew eyes. His warm, sweet, eyes.

Sophie shook her head fervently, trying to erase the fantasy that dwelled in her mind. It was almost midnight, and what she needed was a good night’s rest, not the passionate gaze or the warm arms of one Benedict Bridgerton. Sophie staggered herself up the stairs, wanting to lie on the bed and curl up in her sheets. But before that, she had to mend a hole in her stockings, iron out her apron, wash herself up, and change into her nightgown…

Benedict Bridgerton was the last person she wanted to see in her room that night. He was sitting on the corner of her bed, his face lighting up as he saw her open the door. With the crooked, teasing smile on his face, normally his expression alone would bring her to her knees, but that night Sophie was just goddamn tired. Just so, so, so tired.

“Why are you here, Mr. Bridgerton?”

“You look tired, Sophie.”

“Mr. Bridgerton, why are you here?”

“Can’t I be here?”

“You can not be here,”

“So hostile.” Benedict tutted, pouting his lips ever so slightly. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

“No, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Come on, Sophie, I know…”

“Do you not hear me, Benedict?” Benedict finally noticed how cold and stern her voice was. “I am saying that I do not want you here.”

“Sophie, I just wanted to…”

“Did you not think that some could have seen you?”

“No, I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t think,” For the first time in her life, Sophie snapped, letting her anger get the better of her.

“How would the other servants think of me if they saw you in my room? They would think me as a self-serving whore-”

“Sophie, no-”

“And I would be fired from this position and…and…and…it would be very convenient for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Sophie, that’s not what I wanted to-”

Sophie glared at him with her moss-green eyes, and he noticed that Sophie’s eyes were filled with frustration. He staggered back, unable to say anything at all.

“Then what did you want to do?”

“I…I just…”

“Take me down on this bed, mark me as yours?”

It was exactly what he might have been planning to do.

“…And you call yourself a gentleman when you are no better than Phillip Cavenderー”

The next moment, Sophie was pinned up against the door, his hand grabbing her waist strenuously, his other arm slammed above her head, hovering against her by the door.

“You don’t mean that, Sophie”

His voice was dangerously soft, but there was a stroke of pain and fury, and Sophie realized she had gone too far with her anger. How could she ever compare him to Phillip Cavender? Benedict was far more sweet, far more caring, far more…

“I’m here because I love you,”

Sophie felt tears coming up to her eyes.

“…Please don’t say that.”

“I love you, Sophie.”

“You don’t know what you are saying.”

“I mean what I say, Sophie.” Benedict replied angrily, gritting his teeth, “I’m saying that I love you, and I want to take care of you…”

“If you truly loved me, Benedict,” Sophie was falling apart as she broke out in a sob, feeling the tears running down her cheeks. “Why would you ask me to be your mistress?”

But people have mistresses and by-blows all the time, Benedict stupidly found himself thinking despite his fury. What was wrong with having a mistress, if he loved her just the same, if he cared for her just the same?

“You’re hurting me, Benedict, don’t you know…”

“You have never thought how much you hurt ME, Sophie?” Benedict was almost losing his temper, he wanted to scream and roar if he could. Benedict tightened his grip around Sophie’s waist, knowing that his nails were biting into her skin, hurting her, scaring her. The awful side of him was wanting to hurt her, wanting her to feel the pain he had been suffering ever since Sophie had rejected his offer.

“I cannot breathe, Sophie,” Benedict’s words shook with anger. “I cannot breathe, I cannot live without you Sophie, knowing that you feel the same for me.”

He pressed his forehead against her, trying to regain his breath, trying to calm down the immense anger he felt towards her. He let go of his grip and instead placed them on the door, his nails biting the wooden plank.

“I love you, Sophie.”

“Benedict please don’t.”

“I love you.”

“Just…just, don’t, don’t Benedict”

Benedict slowly leaned in, softly nuzzling his nose against hers. Their lips were almost an inch apart, and if Sophie leaned in just an inch, he would have her sweet lips on his in a second.

“Tell me that you love me, Sophie.”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me,”

“Benedict,”

“….That you love me.”

Sophie’s lips were about to reach his, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the sweet sensation to reach his lips.

The next moment, he felt an immense pain slap across his cheeks, tasting the blood in his mouth. He staggered back, perplexed by the power she held.

“…….You’re drunk.”

There was a striking coldness in her eyes he had never seen before. Her hard, cold gaze was enough to sober him up in a second, but it wasn’t enough to deny her words.

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

Benedict instinctively reached out his arms, wanting to soften her, but Sophie stepped back, clutching to her shoulders as if she were protecting herself from him.

“No, no, don’t you dare touch me, Benedict.”

Benedict finally noticed that he was the stupidest man in the world. Benedict stood foolishly by the door, not knowing what to do or say, as he watched Sophie take another step back, shrinking into the corner of the room.

“I will tolerate, you dwelling on hallways,” Sophie said quietly. “I will endure you stalking me, sneaking and jumping up on me from hidden corridors.”

Benedict was beginning to notice how childish he had been acting as she spoke.

“But I can’t have you in this room, Benedict. This is out of the line.”

“…I apologize, Ms. Beckett.”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’ll …I’m going to leave these here.”

Without even a glance, Benedict left Sophie’s room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Sophie collapsed to the floor, hardly processing what happened over the last few moments. It was too much, too overwhelming to think with her drained body, but his desperate voice echoed through her mind.

“I love you, Sophie. Tell me that you love me too.”

Sophie staggered to her bed, the very place Benedict Bridgerton had been waiting on a few minutes earlier. He had left her something on the bed, and Sophie finally realized that there was a bouquet and a beautiful small box placed softly on her sheets. It was Lilly of the valleys. Her favorite.

Of course, he would have remembered.

During their stay at My Cottage, Benedict had insisted on her accompanying on his walks. “What if I collapse on my way? I have just recovered from sickness, Ms. Beckett,” Benedict had asked her teasingly. “I would need someone to run to Mr. Crabtree.”

Long walks they took on the country streets of Wiltshire, talking about their favorite authors, plays, and paintings. Benedict would ramble about his siblings and she would laugh, and Sophie remembered how much she loved the countryside; enjoying the wildflowers that bloomed in the side, enjoying the peaceful breeze that surrounded her. As she glanced at his warm smile, she remembered how much she was in love with him.

“You like Lilly of the Valleys?”

Benedict asked as Sophie softly took the blossoms in her hands.

“Yes,” she answered. “We had them around the garden when I was a child. It was my mother’s favorite…”

“Quite suits you,” Benedict had softly said.

“Why so?”

“Do you know what they symbolize, Ms. Beckett?

“I’m afraid I do not know.”

“Return to love, Ms.Beckett,” Benedict whispered, softly kissing her fingertips as he reached for her hand.

With quivering hands, she opened the white box, covered with oriental embroideries. Inside was a beautiful pair of shoes, laced in silk ribbons and white velvet .

Why wouldn’t he know servants can’t afford such things?

Such a foolish, foolish man,

Still feeling the warmth of Benedict Bridgerton against the sheets, Sophie sobbed silently, clutching to the warmth he had left on her bed.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Mrs. Gibbons?”

Annabel sighed as she saw a crack open at the door, seeing a petite figure in the shadows.

“Go back to your nursery, Sophie.”

“But I can’t sleep, Mrs. Gibbons.”

“Go back to your room, Sophie.” Annabel patiently replied, glancing at the clock as it struck midnight. She knew she needed at least four more hours of sleep, before starting another day. “Go back to bed, and close your eyes, and if you count to three hundred…”

“But it’s so cold and dark,”

Annabel rolled her eyes, cursing under her breath. God in heavens where is the governess? It should be her, or at least her father that should be tucking her to bed, not the bloody housekeeper as herself…

But when she looked at her soft almond eyes that loomed too large for her face, she felt a stroke of pain and regret.

“All right, Sophie, come here my dear girl.”

As Annabel pulled back the covers, Sophie climbed desperately onto the bed, clinging to her arms as if she were saving herself from drowning. Annabel noticed how cold her hands and feet were, and her cheeks stained with tears. Poor, poor girl, she thought to herself.

“I can’t stop shivering, Mrs.Gibbsons,”

“You’re all right now, my girl.”

As she put her arms around the poor girl, softly cuddling her against her back, she noticed that she should have done this years ago when she heard her young, petite roommate sobbing under the sheets every night. At that time, she would ignore her desperate sobs, covering her years with her pillow, trying to get some sleep. She wondered how the story would have changed if she had stopped and listened to her deepest vulnerabilities.

“Why can’t you reject him, Maria?”

“Annabel, he loves me. And he is so lonely, ”

“Sophie, are you asleep?”

“……..No.”

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, all right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Gibbsons.”

“You can come here every night, Sophie. If you feel sad or have a bad dream, or you can’t sleep, you’ll come to my side. I’m going to hold you tight, and we’re all going to have a nice peaceful doze. Do you understand that, Sophie?”

“Yes, Mrs. Gibbons.”

“But I don’t want you crawling into anyone else sheets except me. Nor do I want anyone else sneaking into your sheets.”

“Why would I have someone in my sheets, Mrs. Gibbons?”

“I’ll explain to you when you’re older.”

“How old Mrs. Gibbons?”

“Old Enough, Sophie.”

“Old enough for what, Mrs.Gibbons?”

She was quite at a loss for words. Instead, Annabel tightened her arms around him, hoping to warm up the poor child.

“You are going to be a strong smart beautiful lady, Sophie.” Softly stroking her golden locks, she felt a tear dropping down her cheeks. “Your mother would have wanted you to be strong, strong enough to keep yourself warm at night…”

[silverhallow]

Bridgerton Drabble: Princess Diaries AU

Part #2 Broken

“What do you mean you’re still going through with it?” George sighed as he looked at his brother exasperated a couple of hours later.

“Well just that, Sophie assured me it was a one off, that it would never happen again and I believe her.” Phillip argued back.

“George, it is his decision at the end of the day…” Marina said as she walked into the room, Amanda wrapped in a blanket as she went to place her in the cot next to her twin brother.

“It’s a stupid ass decision that is what it is. Come on, the entire country has seen the Bridgerton bloke sniffing around her for the last month, it’s clear to anyone with eyes that whatever that was wasn’t just a one off… and besides you said it yourself, there isn’t a spark there! You see her more as a sister! And I’ve seen you pining after that Bridgerton girl…”

“Eloise and I are just friends…” Phillip said going red and George laughed

“I didn’t say which Bridgerton… but come on, you’re going to be stuck in a loveless marriage and it will eat away at you” George said

“She picked me, we’re doing this. She can’t marry anyone else and if she doesn’t marry by the end of the week then the country goes to the Cavenders” Phillip argued

“And that has nothing to do with you, you can return to England, back to your plants and forget about this entire mess” George said “I am sure you can persuade Eloise to come to Oxford or Cambridge for University since she’s due to start next term” he teased raising his brows suggestively.

Phillip threw a grape at his brother who laughed.

“It’s not that simple. I won’t see this entire country be wrecked by some imbecile because I wasn’t prepared to help where I can. Sophie is the best thing that ever happened to this country, even if she only found out about it a few years ago, she cares so deeply about everyone, she wants to make it a better place, a better country and I can be a part of that, I can help her achieve that and I can do my botany work anywhere. She chose me, we are seeing this through. I do not need any more lectures about it George, I just need you to be supportive please. Like Marina is being”

“Marina is being supportive because she knows she has little choice” Marina laughed “you were supportive of us when we found out about the twins and helped us with the press and your father’s rage”

“Yes, like dad would be happy about you doing this…” George scoffed

“What? The idea of me marrying someone who is going to be Queen of a country. It’d probably be the only thing in my life i’d have done he would have approved of… thinking i could seize control for the family or something… but even if he didn’t approve, it’d have been something i’d have wanted to do even more to get away from him” Phillip said shaking his head.

“Point taken…” George said before looking between his brother and his wife and heaving a deep sigh “fine, I shall continue to be supportive of this stupid endeavour and I shall be the first to either congratulate you on becoming Prince Consort, or to say “I told you so” when it goes tits up” he grinned

Marina swiped at her husband who ducked it and laughed “i promise, i’ll be on my best behaviour, I just want Phil to be happy and if being married to the Queen of Penwood will do that… then I shall be the supportive big brother”

“Thank you, that is all I ask…” Phillip said, walking over to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a drink

“And maybe keep him away from Eloise” Marina whispered into her husband's ear who nodded glumly.

They knew there was no changing Phillip’s mind when he’d set it to something that it would take a lot to change it…

He’d been adamant that when Marina and George found out she was pregnant, that to avoid the scandal of the unplanned pregnancy, the unwanted attention in the press and their father’s fury, he had offered to say he was the father and take the brunt of everything from their father…

But given the news of Marina falling pregnant by one of his son’s out of wedlock, had caused their father to have a heart attack… that lie hadn’t been required but for George, as much as he liked the Queen to be and knew that on paper this was a good match and that his brother and Sophie were friends and very similar in personality, he couldn’t help but feel that this was not the end of the matter and that the saga with the wedding was just starting…

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Over at the houses of parliament, Edmund Bridgerton was pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked over the documents finalising the plans Andrew and Roger had sent over for the new orphanage to be built as per the Princess’ request.

It had been a morning of putting out fires and dealing with the broken heart of his 24 year old son.

Benedict had come back from the palace and his sneaky yet innocent night with the Princess completely broken.

He had never seen him like this before and he had no idea what to do about it. The rules were the rules. They had been set well over 200 years ago by men who didn’t think that a woman should rule period, let alone on her own and therefore they forced through ridiculous rules.

Some of them they’d managed to abolish over the years but the marriage law… that was something that they’d never seen to rectify and he had no idea if it was even possible for the Lords of the country to make such a decision as any decisions around the crown had to be set by the King or Queen.

The marriage law as it stood now had been passed in 1812 when the then King George only had legitimate daughter’s and wanted one of his bastard sons to rule instead and he’d made it as difficult as possible for his eldest daughter Sophia Charlotte, to take her rightful place as Queen once he passed away.

He’d forced through the rule that said in order for her to rule she had to marry and be over the age of 20, before she could assume the throne but also made it clear that whoever they were to marry, would not have any power over the throne, as he was sure it would have made her whole position less fanciful, why marry a Queen if you get no power… which all men married for, power and position and for 100’s of years… that law had been enforced.

Sophia had managed to outwit her father and married a simple Lord and went on to be one of the country's greatest ever rulers.

“It’s a stupid rule” Benedict had wailed so many times into his hands that Edmund was sure it was all he was going to think about when he slept that night. He knew his wife would be the better person to calm their second son down, she always had been but there had been some sort of drama with Eloise so he’d been left to deal with Benedict.

It broke his heart that there was nothing he could do, he personally didn’t have the power to change it, he couldn’t even make the motion to change the rule that could only come from the sovereign or sovereign to be, and then parliament could decide on whether or not to back the motion…

And given half of the men that sat on the benches of parliament, he wouldn’t put it past them to not pass it and being so close to the wedding now…

Edmund hated this. He hated that he hadn’t learned more earlier, when he first got to know their future Queen, he’d assumed that she’d have found a way out of it, or been happy but he’d not anticipated the connection that seemed to form almost instantly between his son and the Princess.

It had been even quicker than that of when he met Violet when he’d known by the end of the dance… he’d seen the Princess run into Benedict and stand on his toe and he’d seen the sparks fly…

And knew that they were in trouble.

“I know she’s the best thing for this country but it’s not fair… it’s not fair” he wept over and over in his hands, his eyes were red and swollen, as was his nose from the hysterics. It didn’t matter that he was a grown ass man of twenty four years old.

Benedict knew he would never find anyone that compared with Sophie and living in this country meant he was going to be forced to see her face every single day, it would be everywhere right down to the money he earned and spent.

Her life would be broadcast, he’d have to see her pregnant with another’s baby, on the arm of another.

Or he will have to leave the country, never to return, never to see his family unless they came to see him…

He wasn’t going to be strong enough to endure seeing the love of his life thriving in that capacity.

It took Edmund several hours to get his son to stop breaking his heart, to stop his son from the weight of he guilt he felt after the rumours had briefly flown that Sophie and Phillip were not to marry and it was being called off after the “incident” but they’d received communication from Anthony and Kate that the wedding was still to go ahead, which of course set off another round of tears in Benedict.

Eventually he managed to persuade his son to go home and not do anything drastic or dramatic. Edmund had an idea on how he could get the information to Sophie about it could be stopped, how it could be changed and challenged but it would be a risk.

If parliament didn’t back her… then everything could be a disaster.

[britany1997]

For @misslavenderlady Happy 26th Birthday!!

Birthdays Are Bigger In Texas

Ahhh I loved writing this for you!!! I hope you have an amazing birthday! Thank you for letting me use your Southern boy, I hope you enjoy this!!!

Pre-read by fellow Texans @cryptic-michael and @bookworm551 🤠

(Also, I’m posting this now because it’s officially your birthday, but it occurred to me that we may not be in the same time zone, so hopefully it’s your birthday where you are lol)

Southern Michael x Lave🥰 (no pronouns used)

🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

You shifted on the balls of your feet as you waited for Michael to answer the door. It swung wide open as the smiling face of your favorite cowboy popped out. “Happy Birthday Darlin’!” He said while pulling you into a tight hug. You giggled as you melted into the warmth of his arms.

After he released you, he took your hand in his as he led you to his room. You passed Miss Lucy and she offered you a beautiful smile and a “Happy Birthday Sweetie pie!” She reminded Michael to bring you to the kitchen later for a slice of the cake she’d baked just for you.

Michael promised her he would as he pulled you towards his room. Warmth bloomed within you at the exchange, the Emersons were incredibly hospitable. Miss Lucy already treated you like one of her own.

Michael sat you on the bed in his room, “stay right there,” he told you as he began to riffle through his things before pulling out a meticulously wrapped gift. “Now baby,” he started, “your gift tonight has three parts to it. This here’s part one.” He told you handing you the box.

“Michael,” you said blushing, “you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Shucks darlin,’” he replied, “birthdays are a big deal ta my family. ‘Sides,” he said, “who could resist spoiling a purdy thing like you.”

You felt your cheeks flush red once more as you kissed his cheek and took the box he had held out to you.

You tore at the wrapping before revealing a shoe box from Cavender’s. You gasped, “is this what I think it is?” You asked while taking off the lid.

He shot you a half smile as you lifted the brown leather boots from the box. “So we can match,” he said, blushing as he turned his heel to the side, showing you his brown boots. His significantly more worn then your brand new ones, but other than that, they were nearly identical.

He knelt down in front of you slipping off your sneakers and replacing them with your new boots. You kissed his forehead when he finished. “Thank you,” you told him, “they’re perfect.”

He blushed and slipped his hand into yours “It’s nothin’ hon,” he told you, “now come with me, I wanna show ya the next part of your gift.”

You giggled and allowed him to lead you around once more, this time out the back door of his house and down to a nearby park where you’d spent many nights laid out on picnic blankets, stargazing together.

You gasped as you saw the park’s rotunda had been decorated with fairy lights and streamers. You glanced over at Michael as he shot you a smile, confirming that the setup was just for you.

Michael took your hand and led you to the center of the pavilion. He slipped a tape into the boombox he’d set up before the two of you had arrived.

After, he placed your hand on his shoulder before slipping his around the small of your back and pulling you close to him.

You blushed and slid your other hand up to his shoulder as well. Michael started to sway the two of you as music played from the boombox. The soft tones of guitar music flooded your ears. The song sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.

When you heard the sound of Michael’s voice your face flashed with recognition as he sang:

“…Now everything is new,

And all I’ve learned is overturned,

I beg of you,

Don’t go wasting your emotion,

Lay all your love on me.”

The usual sound of the energetic pop song, replaced by a soft acoustic melody, covered by your sweet cowboy.

You stopped moving and let out a little gasp, “This- I- It’s you!” You sputtered.

He blushed bright red. “Yeah,” he said, “I thought about bringin’ ya out here and sittin’ ya down so I could play if for ya,” a smile spread over his face, “but shoot baby, I just wanted to hold ya too bad.”

He buried his face in your shoulder, “do ya like it hon?” He asked.

“Michael, baby,” you whispered. He picked his head up from your shoulder and stared into your eyes. “It’s perfect,” you told him, “I love it.”

He beamed, “I’m glad ta hear it darlin’,” he said, “because the last part of your gift is the tape. So you can listen anytime you’d like.”

You flashed him your brightest smile as you pulled him into a tight hug, “thank you,” you told him, “you make me feel so loved.”

“That’s cause ya are,” he said while kissing your cheek and moving you to the music once more, “Happy Birthday Darlin,’ I love ya to the moon and back,”

You kissed him softly, “I love you just as far,” you whispered in his ear as you swayed in his arms.

“Don’t go wasting your emotion,

Lay all your love on me,

Don’t go sharing your devotion,

Lay all you love on me,

Don’t go wasting your emotion…”

As the song faded out your lips met his in a sweet and romantic kiss. When you finally pulled away, Michael had a dopey grin on his face.

“Hell, keep kissin me like that Darlin’ and I’ll start ta think it’s my birthday” he told you chuckling to himself.

You giggled back “thank you for everything,” you told him.

He exhaled, his lips relaxed into a soft smile, “anytime darlin.’ Anytime.” He replied as he pulled you in for another kiss.

🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[ao3feed-kathony]

Chosen Family

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/59786089 by benophiefan Lady Sophia Gun may be the only child of the Earl of Penwood, but she spent her life feeling and being invisible. When her father passed away and her stepmother sent her away, circumstances allow her to escape and take on a new identity. Benedict Bridgerton was hunted by a mysterious woman he met at his mother’s masquerade. Seeking a change of scenery and hoping to find her, he purchases a home in Wiltshire. What he wasn’t aware of his instant connection with the home’s housekeeper. It’s a reimagining of AOFAG with Sophie being legit. Words: 2773, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn, Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Categories: F/M Characters: Sophie Beckett | Sophie Baek, Richard Gunningworth, Araminta Gunningworth | Araminta Gun, Rosamund Reiling | Rosamund Li, Posy Reiling | Posy Li, Phillip Cavender, Benedict Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Mrs. Crabtree (Bridgerton), Mr. Crabtree (Bridgerton), Original Female Character(s), Hyacinth Bridgerton Relationships: Sophie Beckett | Sophie Baek/Benedict Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington Additional Tags: Benedict Bridgerton Being Benedict Bridgerton, Sophie Beckett | Sophie Baek is Legitimate | Born in Wedlock, POV Sophie Beckett | Sophie Baek, Bridgerton Family Feels, Dead Edmund Bridgerton, Araminta Gun is horrible, Richard Gun is the worst, The Crabtrees are the greatest, My Cottage (Bridgerton), Suicide Attempt, Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Autumn, Minor Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Minor Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Phillip Crane referenced, Slow Burn, Angst and Humor, Eventual Smut, Drama & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/59786089

[hopepaigeturner]

Villainous Benophie AU: Pt.2

Inspired by @orangepeelshortbreadcookies; BRILLIANT Villainous Viscount AU (read on AO3 here). So all creds go to her!

And while she has done a beautiful fic about Benophie in this universe, Thieves of Dusk (10% RECOMMEND A READ. Read on AO3 here). But we’ve been chatting about my own ideas for Benophie. So, with her blessing here’s the next part of my version.

Check out Part 1 here

Benedict continues to watch the maiden whose demi-mask cannot hide her attractive features. And as he watches he notices. He knows the tricks of the trade, he honed those skills as his family shivered in the winter chill. He knows that the eyes hidden by that mask are flickering across the cards. He knows she has no cards hiding up her sleeve. She is a cardsharp—a frighteningly good one from the growing pile of chips in front of her.

Alas no matter how pretty, Benedict cannot in good conscience let a cardsharp wipe the tables (atleast when it’s not going into Bridgerton pockets). It wouldn’t be good for business, nor for the moral of the other players, he thinks, as he watches a regular lout, Cavendar, grow increasingly hostile towards the maiden. And while the maiden only reacts with smiles and placative comments, Cavendar gets louder and his threats more explicit.

Benedict cannot allow a man to assault someone on the shop floor, the Bridgertons have a reputation after all. He uses this justification to smoothly slide in and disarm Cavender with a few veiled threats of his own before whisking the maiden away.

“I had it handled,” she mutters as Benedict directs her over to the bank to cash in her chips. He tries not to react to the terseness in her tone. After all it wasn't often that people didn't recognise him for his last name.

“Oh, I do not doubt it, but this is a reputable establishment that does not appreciate spectacles.”

The lady raises her eyebrow as her money is handed over. Benedict smirks.

“Unless that spectacle is a beautiful woman, alas you are not just a woman, are you?”

The girl freezes and Benedict leans over to whisper in her ear.

“You don’t think I know a cardsharp when I see one.”

The woman’s eyes widen slightly before her features settle into a careful configuration, balancing the line between steel and beguile.

“And I see a man capable of discretion, perhaps for a price?”

Benedict ignores her outstretched bounty too focused on the look in her eye, yet another facet he hungers to unmask. He pauses, allows the tension to rise until he flicks out a cigarette.

“Share a smoke?”

She has a good poker face, necessary for cards, yet not an impenetrable one. He notices the slight widening of her eyes under the mask.

"A smoke? Why should I go out for a smoke with a stranger?"

Wariness, yet again that subtle emotion in her eye which causes him to lean closer,

“What harm can there be in a smoke between strangers?”

He watches the intrigue spark in her eye. He shifts his smile a little more crooked and waits.

The lady takes the cigarette.

He takes them to a private balcony under the moon where their conversation continues, the pair of them coming closer and closer together until they are almost coiled around each other like the smoke from their shared cigarette. Benedict’s initial plan of seducing her into his bed is neglected in favour of revelling in the mystery and wonder of a woman whose accent contrasts with the calluses in her hands and who has so many secrets hidden in her eyes. She matches his dexterity in conversation, a dance of words and half-truths and confessions that enthrals him as much as it terrifies him how easily they read each other. For by the time the moon reaches its pinnacle, she has coaxed out the parts of him that he locked away on the day they found his father dead and he has collected the strands of the her tapestry of veiled secrets. By the time the sunrise starts to encroach he knows he has fallen and has no intention of rising, the verdict entrenched when he kisses her and his entire body reassembles itself to fit hers—just as he feels hers do the same.

“Stay with me,” he whispers against her lips, once they finally breaqk for breath. His fingers run under the edge of the mask. “I do not ask for anything in return, not money or your body, I just want you—all of you.”

He feels intoxicated and perhaps that is why he does not notices how his lady shifts in his arms. How he does not fully hear her whispered words,

“I cannot. I will not.”

And why it takes him a couple moments before he realises she has disappeared.

Yet he still runs. But like the fairies that disappear from their woodland circles in the dewy morning air, she has disappeared into the dawn sky…

Read Part 3 here

[screenplaytestingground]

Bridgerton Season 4, Episode 4 - An Offer from a Gentleman

This episode was a challenge, a lot needed to happen to build to the back-half of the eight episode season. There were also a lot of iconic book scenes that needed to be done just right!

Scene 1 below, full screenplay linked below. Enjoy!

SCENE 1 - RIDING TO AUBREY HALL

EXT. RIDING IN PHAETON ALONG A ROAD - NIGHT

[THUNDER RUMBLES QUIETLY IN THE DISTANCE]

SOPHIE and BENEDICT sit next to each other, BENEDICT is driving the carriage.

BENEDICT

I suppose I should be a gentleman and introduce myself properly. Benedict Bridgerton. And you are?

SOPHIE

Bridgerton …? Oh. 

SOPHIE looks quickly at BENEDICT squinting to see him in the dark.

I am Sophie, Sophie Beckett. And thank you again, for rescuing me.

BENEDICT

I have four sisters, I could not have lived with myself if something should have happened to you. Thinking about what could have befallen a young lady at the hands of such … men. I cannot even call them that after their actions. I apologize profusely on their behalf.

SOPHIE

You mustn’t apologize for actions that were not your own.

[BENEDICT COUGHS]

SOPHIE

Are you alright, Mr. Bridgerton?

BENEDICT

Just a head cold, I’ve been fighting it all week. But hopefully we can get to my family’s estate before the storm comes in.

SOPHIE

We cannot be too far now, can we?

BENEDICT

You know where my estate is?

SOPHIE

I think most around here know of the Bridgerton property, in all honesty.

BENEDICT

I suppose it makes sense that I cannot escape the Bridgerton name even in Kent. [COUGHS]

SOPHIE

Why would you wish to escape being a Bridgerton?

BENEDICT

I suppose I have no good reason to want that, but sometimes it is a bit … daunting. But how can I complain about being pained by my name given what just almost befell you.

SOPHIE

If you hadn’t have been there I do not know what I would have done. I am very happy Benedict Bridgerton was attending that party.

[THUNDER BOOMS]

[BENEDICT COUGHS IN FITS]

SOPHIE

Would you like for me to take over driving? You seem to be quite ill.

BENEDICT

You think you can steer these horses?

SOPHIE

You think I cannot handle these horses? Of course I can steer. I am a servant, I have driven my way into town many times. Horses do not faze me in the least.

[BENEDICT COUGHS]

BENEDICT

You were doing fairly well holding your own against that serpent Cavender back there, how am I not surprised you can handle horses as well?

RAIN BEGINS

BENEDICT

I suppose this is a sign from the heavens that I am not driving fast enough.

[COUGHING] BENEDICT hands SOPHIE the reins. 

SOPHIE snaps the reins and the horses speed up.

FOCUS WIDENS to a full view of the road ahead, Phaeton drives on quickly into the darkness ahead.

END SCENE

[squeakpip]

hello there!! how's your week been? any projects, playlists, books, recipes, etc that strike your fancy to ramble about?

i've been sick this week but i am slowly overthrowing the goop that has taken over my body. putting this together has been a nice distraction, so it got super long

Knitting

just before i got sick, i put a (mostly) handspun cardigan to block. the spinning of this was a tiny bit of a spite project, based on how frequently people talk about "muddy" colors in handspun in a disparaging way. as a brown lover, i took offense and decided to make a rainbow-but-brown cardigan incorporating every technique i could think of that people tell new spinners not to use because it will muddy their yarn. the last two pics gives a vague sense of how much optical color mixing you get from afar vs. up close, but the effect works better irl.

(fiber is all corriedale from Hello Yarn's fiber club)

i used 8+ years old leftover brown cascade eco for the cuffs, hem, pocket trim, and double-knit buttonband. this bit me in the ass, because i ran out with about 6" of band to go, and obviously couldn't get a dyelot match. thankfully, it was the button side of the band so the lighter bit will be mostly hidden, but i am pissed that i had to buy another 250g skein of yarn for a project where i was using up leftovers. also my button order got canceled so i need to source new ones. perhaps this project is slightly cursed. but i'll stash it away until autumn and it'll feel like i get a new sweater, just like i imagined, that i didn't even have to knit.

Spinning

currently working on two different spins, both for scarves.

on my spinolution wheel i have a brown-green-blue-white gradient destined to be woven, although i haven't been able to find the right weft yet. (fingering weight, plied, primarily nonsuperwash wool, pale pink that leans coral/orange...) i may end up dyeing it myself if i haven't found the right yarn by the time i get to weaving it.

i'm also spindling the finest yarn i possibly can, for some sort of garter stitch lace shawl situation. the fiber is a decently textured batt that includes silk nepps, so it will be gently tweedy. everyone who sees it says the fiber looks like bacon, but it's based on the dyer's cat, Mungo.

Weaving

before i got sick, my goal was to warp my loom for floral overshot kitchen towels, which is what everyone in my family will be getting as a winter holiday gift. maybe next week when i am more confident in my ability to count.

Music

here's what's been stuck in my head lately for each language i speak. apparently i'm stuck in the 90's and very much the bug, not the windshield this week

Vittles

my go-to tea for the past 6 months has been a 50/50 mix of adagio's hazelnut and this baked apple tea. this started as an attempt to make the most autumnal tea possible (and tone down the cinnamon of the baked apple), but i recently committed to it enough to pre-mix a whole tin of it instead of just blending it in the infuser. i take it with homemade vanilla syrup and milk.

any day that i'm not eating çilbir i'm thinking about when i can have it again

i'm also obsessed with claire saffitz's gooey butter cake recipe (if you have ever wanted to just eat cake batter, this is the cake for you).

i have recently perfected my pretentious grilled cheese game with

some type of fruit preserve (i've used earl grey and apple jelly, apple butter, marmalade)

one slice of american cheese for melt

one slice of trader joe's scotch bonnet cheddar for heat

thick cut ham

homemade pickled red onions

serve with sliced cucumber or tomato sprinkled with cavender's seasoning, and/or apple slices, preferably arranged in a silly design so you feel like your adult self (sandwich) is reaching through time to shake your toddler self's (sides) hand

i've also been making what can only be described as a vaguely korean crunchwrap, which started as a fridge clean-out meal and has taken on a life of its own

trader joe's frozen bulgogi beef

egg scrambled over the reheated beef

matchstick carrots or cucumber

pimento cheese spread

kimchi

cilantro

green onion

tortilla chips for crunch (optional, i rarely have chips around)

wrapped in a flour tortilla, griddled until golden

Other Things I've Been Enjoying Lately

my new haircut and color (lime green! i've never dyed my hair before! i'm such a brave little cartoon character now!)

https://weepingwitch.github.io/sudoku

https://www.youtube.com/@BerylShereshewsky

modded minecraft. i'm splitting my time between vault hunters (i am so so bad at it), my own whimsical but slightly dark fantasy 1.20.1 pack, and my gritty 32x conquest+ pack inspired by https://www.youtube.com/@lowresbones's the hammer series

daydreaming about an unfaithful recreation of my favorite summer drink from a closed cafe. their thing was orange juice, soda water, and jasmine syrup. i made jasmine syrup last summer and it turned out weirdly grassy and gross, so i'm going to try lavender or rosemary instead.

speaking of rosemary, i also have the stuff to make brown butter rosemary rice krispie treats! can't wait until i have the energy to both make and eat food that's interesting again. herby sweet treats my beloved <333

[vintagetvstars]

Rue McClanahan Vs. Barbara Stanwyck

Propaganda

Rue McClanahan - (Golden Girls, Maude, Mama's Family) - Listen to me. I have never understood celebrity crushes until I first witnessed Rue McClanahan. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen - just look at her!! Gorgeous eyes, the cutest nose, a SPECTACULAR smile - she has this adorable, princess-like quality about her AND she's also a complete hottie AND she's aware of it: she HAS THE RANGE, people!! Her two most famous roles are polar opposites, in fact: she starred in the role of naive, gentle Vivian Cavender-Harmon in Maude (and I mean. Just look her up and tell me that's not an angel!), and then went on to gain even more well-deserved fame and success as the seductive, extroverted Blanche Devereaux in The Golden Girls (a role for which she won an Emmy in 1987 - her amazing, hilarious acceptance speech can be found here: . I should also point out that both of these are comedy characters and she is HILARIOUS as them both - the comedic timing, the delivery, the expressions, she was a comedy queen!!! As for her personal life, she was just a darling - and also very funny in person, not just in her acting roles! She was a staunch supporter of gay rights and a big advocate for same-sex marriage in the US, as well as a vegetarian and a big defender of animal rights. She suffered from illness in her later years which greatly impacted her health, but she was still very active up until her death in 2010, and she even released a wonderful autobiography in 2007 titled "My First Five Husbands... and the Ones Who Got Away". In her interviews she's always gentle, soft-spoken (her voice. dear god. sweet mother Aphrodite I cannot weave I am overcome with gay thoughts), and kind, but also sharp, witty, and just a delight to watch. I could go on forever talking about her honestly. I am actually in love with her and you should be too. She's just the best! Here, have some additional pics: (pics below the cut)

Barbara Stanwyck - (The Big Valley) - she was my favourite character in the entire show when I was little and I just think more people should see that she's one of those actresses who looks even prettier as they age

Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket

Additional propaganda below the cut

Rue McClanahan:

The Hottie™️ of the Golden Girls, she was definitely a GILF. And her character's shenanigans were Emmy-winning but no less fun and her outfits were always on point and gorgeous, befitting her perfectly.

she!!!

as Vivian, with her fellow hottie Bea Arthur as Maude

as Blanche - look at those eyes!!!

come on, tell me you wouldn't do anything for that smile, I dare you

in her contract she specifically requested to be given all of Blanche's clothes and SHE WAS RIGHT

Okay so first of all. Rue has this way of moving around and looking at you that just-- I mean, I'm ace, but I *get* the allos. She's hot and she knows it (and she plays a character in The Golden Girls who's in her 50s, hot, and knows it as well. Which, talk about perfect casting??) But I'm mostly here to talk about the fact that she said this in her Emmy acceptance speech (paraphrased because I'm sharing the video with the right timestamp, and you should absolutely watch up until 3:40, because her delivery is UNMATCHED): "My mother said to me once [...] 'Oh, Eddi-Rue, for heaven's sake. Don't you know every kick's a boost?' There've been a lot of kicks, and there've been a lot of boosts. I'm not going to mention the people who gave me kicks... but you know who you are. And you'll be in the book." (Seriously though, do yourself a favour and watch that video. She's amazing!!) She said this, and proceeded to WRITE THE BOOK, titled "My first five husbands, and the ones who got away", which is *incredibly* funny, and such an earnest look into her life. She opens the acknowledgements with "This book is about my life and experiences as I lived them, and anyone who doesn't like it can jolly well lump it." And I mean... she's awesome. I could go on.

Rue McClanahan @ The Emmy Awards 1987

[eleanor-bradstreet]

PLEASE TELL ME ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE ABOUT ANTOPHIE!!!

Hello my friend!

How kind of you to indulge a dive into my dirty rare-pair ship 😅 Maybe I'm not the only one - I haven't gone poking around AO3 for this stuff to be fair. I completely understand the sacrilege of casting aside both Benedict and Kate, I love them so.

But there's just something about Anthony and Sophie...

(prepare thyself for a tome)

My head canon fascination with them honestly centers around their in-law relationship. I cannot help but believe that even after Sophie marries Benedict with the family's support, she has an intense feeling of inferiority and imposter syndrome around Anthony. He's a titled man and she has NEVER had good experiences with their kind before. She would likely believe that Anthony barely permitted her scandalous marriage to his brother and merely tolerates her - probably looking down on her, ashamed of her, aggravated by having to keep the secret of her true background from the ton, and even suspicious of her honest attachment to Benedict. Anthony may think she was a conniving seducer who latched onto his brother for money and protection rather than love. I would understand Sophie having any combination of these thoughts when she first becomes acquainted with Anthony.

But in reality, Anthony has learned through his own marriage not to judge books by their covers AND to respect his siblings' quests for love and happiness. When Anthony learns about the way Sophie was mistreated by her father, stepmother, the Cavenders, god knows what other abusive employers, he is offended and indignant on her behalf. He's a man of genuine principle and is disgusted to learn how his fellow members of the ton treated a servant, and one who turned out was half-noble and abandoned by her shameful father. Anthony would actually feel compelled to make it up to Sophie on behalf of the ton, to show her that not all of them are cruel. I believe he would most definitely be suspicious of Sophie's intentions and Benedict's flighty proclamations of love at the beginning, and probably felt the migraine coming on about having to deal with his brother's scandalous marriage outside their rank, BUT once he witnessed the genuine expressions of love between the pair, and once he realized he could lose Benedict to ostracization and even moving abroad if he did not help support the marriage and hide Sophie's background, he would be fully committed to protecting the couple. Because Benedict is his closest brother, he loves him, and by extension he will protect Benedict's wife, particularly as she proves to him time and time again that she is a kind-hearted woman with fierce morals who has more in common with him than they each realize.

I envision Anthony will keep Benedict as his closest brother and confidant throughout their lives and thus, the Fab Four of Kanthony and Benophie will have a lot of quality time together. Picture it: Anthony the beleaguered leader, Kate the sassy spitfire, Benedict the flouncing romantic and Sophie the fearless brains of the bunch. She and Anthony will both come to realize that they share a head for numbers. This is canon about Sophie in the books. Sophie will actually be better than Benedict at handling the household accounts when Kanthony need coverage, and Anthony will learn to depend on her counsel for business and paperwork. She also provides the unique perspective of having been household staff herself, which is invaluable to him to make sure he is managing everything with sensitivity and maximum benefit to all. They will also have plenty to commiserate about as they both spend a good deal of time trying to keep Benedict's artistic, romantic feet on the ground. Anthony can give Sophie tips on how to handle his brother, and Sophie can help Anthony navigate any struggles with Kate by providing a woman's perspective.

Not to diminish Kate's painful family history, but the characterizations from the books paint Anthony and Sophie as having suffered much more in their pasts than Kate and Benedict. Anthony was saddled with the weight of title and responsibility due to his birth and traumatized by the death of his father. Sophie was saddled with the weight of shame and toil due to her birth and traumatized by being abused and devalued after her father died. Both of them clawed their way past their trauma and into their happily ever afters through determination, strength of character and self-reliance. They both learned to breathe and enjoy the brighter side of life once they found their spouses. But their spouses are unlikely to empathize with them on these struggles in the way they can empathize with each other.

While Sophie double checks Anthony's calculations in the ledger and Anthony helps Sophie hide Benedict's paint supplies, they will develop a deep and loving familial bond. Seemingly an odd pair - one raised a viscount and one raised a bastard maid - they have so much more in common than they know. I also head canoned a cute shared love of Marzipan in a little fic.

In Anthony, Sophie finds the brother/father figure she never had, a kind titled gentleman who uses his power to protect her rather than scorn her. In Sophie, Anthony finds someone with a refreshingly different perspective; someone who does not hold him to the same level of expectation as the rest of the ton and who does not come to him with the emotional baggage of his blood relatives. She treats him as a person before she treats him as a viscount. He views her as a sister before he views her as a bastard. She is grateful to him for welcoming her into his family and shielding her from her past. He is grateful to her for seeing his better qualities before his flaws, and for taking such good care of his beloved brother. They look behind the pain and strife of their life circumstances to see each other as somewhat kindred souls. They learn from each other, they help each other and they love each other. This is what I dream about for them.

And yeah, as mentioned, I plunged into the depths of my angst bucket and wrote a bit of a fic where they are middle-aged and both Kate and Benedict have passed away. Sophie moves in with Anthony for mutual support and child-rearing responsibilities and after years of grieving together, their existing bedrock of love bubbles into passion and they find a second, gentler, quiet happily ever after together. The title is Some Kind of Love and I will likely never finish it. But the first chapter is written and I've thought of floating it out there as an angsty little one shot. Perhaps someday.

Hope that satisfies your curiosity 😅 told you it would be a dickens! Always happy to talk about Antophie, my beloved rare-pair. 💙

[wadegriffith]

Mercedes-Benz of Lubbock, a proud member of the Cavender Auto Family, is West Texas’ Premier Mercedes-Benz Dealer. The dealership recently underwent a stunning interior and exterior renovation, designed by Parkhill, to elevate the customer’s experience and create a bold impression in a compact space.

© Wade Griffith Photography 2024

[tilly-tilly-2827]

You must be Joking, Mr. Bridgerton!

Reimaging An Offer from a Gentleman#2/ Missing from moments from My cottage

Synopsis: When Benedict offers her a glass of whiskey, Sophie gets slightly drunk. And, also, how Benedict starts to see Sophie Beckett in a new light.

⚠️  This dabble is set before their marriage, a moment before the lake scene in An Offer from a Gentleman. Benedict hasn’t finished his character development, so……..he’s kind of a dick?

Ao3 post from here!!

“Then, Gregory broke his arm the moment he held the arrow in his hands…”

“He didn’t!”

“Unfortunately, this part is true.”

Sophie burst out laughing as Benedict imitated the stern yet exasperated look and the voice of his elder brother, I’m taking that away from you.

“Does he truly sound like that?”

“Like a 60-year-old man with 9 kids? Yes, he does sound and acts like so, ”

The kitchen again was filled with the merry laughter of Sophie Beckett. No longer the quiet, reserved girl he had imagined her to be, Benedict began to notice that he rather liked the sound of her voice, the sound of her laughter.

Although Sophie had repeatedly insisted that he should take his supper in bed, or at least, in the main dining hall, Benedict was quite persistent on having his meal in the servant’s kitchen. Firmly stating that he would dine in there. With Sophie.

But Mr. Bridgerton, I believe it is not suitable for you to dine there…

But you are dining there, am I correct?

Well yes, but…

If it is suitable for you, it must be suitable for me, isn’t it? I’m only saving you from further trouble, Ms. Beckett. It must take quite an effort to carry that quantity of food from the downstairs kitchen. I’ve also been brought up of the logic; the more the merrier, Ms. Beckett, have you heard that…

Sophie did not exactly understand either of those logics. But seeing as he dabbled on and firmly seated himself on the head of the table in the servants’ kitchen, she did notice that Benedict Bridgerton was a stubborn man indeed.

“…And that is why Colin was confiscated from giving gifts to Gregory for the next couple of years.”

“A wise decision for your brother,” Sophie chirped back, barely suppressing a giggle.

Sophie had never felt so peaceful in her life. With the fireplace cracking by the side, the peaceful summer night breeze, and the love of her life gulping down her stew quite enthusiastically (This is remarkable, Ms. Beckett, Benedict had beamed at her ), every moment felt like a dream. She had imagined every fantasy of him since two years ago, but sharing a stew in the countryside had not been on her list.

Sophie was quite worried that the dinner might end in awkward silence, just as it had been in the phaeton from the Cavenders. But Benedict has been gallant and sweet, sharing stories about his family, and his siblings.

Although their plates had been finished at least an hour ago, they were pushed aside in the corner of the table. Sophie couldn’t bring herself to start cleaning them up, and Benedict was beginning to wonder why he couldn’t stop rambling on. He noticed that he wanted more of Ms. Beckett’s smiles, her laughter.

Benedict was thanking the stars that the Crabtrees had not returned from their travels yet. Mrs. Crabtree would be furious to have him in the kitchen, let alone have a young woman be in the same room with him unchaperoned.

Sophie was almost hollering with laughter as Benedict continued to talk about the time his father had put glue on his boots. It had been quite a while since he even talked about his father, but words kept slipping out as if he couldn’t help himself.

“So, it was your father, who encouraged you to sketch?”

“Well, Anthony was rather wild, so I presume he wanted his second son to engage in more …quiet pastimes.”

“…I wouldn’t call it a pastime if I had your skills,” Sophie smiled softly.

“How could you be the judge of that?”

“…I accidentally came across one of your sketchbooks the other night,” Sophie answered sheepishly, but Benedict must have been frowning because Sophie suddenly broke into a burst;

“I’m incredibly sorry, Mr. Bridgerton. I was overstepping, I knew that I was intruding on your privacy…”

“No, no. No need for apologies, Ms. Beckett. I was merely…surprised you saw them.”

Silence had fallen between the two.

“Any thoughts, by the way?”

He asked hesitantly.

“I thought they were beautiful,”

“…You flatter me, Ms. Beckett,”

“I mean what I say, Mr.Bridgeton.”

Sophie’s serious gaze met his.

“…I loved the one with your siblings,” Sophie’s voice was barely above a whisper, “The one with the mallets. I could just feel the merriment. The expression of your sister that you sketched, she looked just like you.”

The fire in the fireplace was burning down, but Benedict noticed Sophie’s cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes were cast down as if she were imagining the sketch in her mind.

She is quite fetching, he thought, and Benedict suddenly wanted his sketchbook in his hands, desperately wanting to capture that exact expression on paper.

“I truly loved that sketch,” she sighed, “your father must have been so proud if he had seen your works.”

Benedict felt a stroke of heartache, remembering how he would sketch in his father’s study on his lap, and his father would ruffle his head, the first time to have an artist in the family, eh?

“Well, your father must be proud of you as well, to have a daughter so well-spoken and educated as yourself. With expert culinary skills.”

Sophie’s corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly, her green eyes somewhat dimming.

“…I doubt he would.”

“Why so?”

“He was…rather distant. I don’t think he ever wanted to…” Sophie suddenly stopped, surprised that she was even talking about this. She softly placed her hand on her cheeks, trying to raise the corner of her lips. No, she wasn’t going to break down in front of him.

“It must be lovely, to grow up in a family like yours.”

“…You don’t have a family.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

Just when she tried to change the subject, she thought, she could feel her spine become rigid, her fingertips curling.

“You said that your mother was a housekeeper, but you never mentioned your father.”

Curiosity was quietly bubbling inside him, he oddly had the urge to know more about the woman who had taken such good care of him. Who was she? What was she?

“Where does he live now?”

“…He passed on as well when I was young .”

“What did he do?”

“……………….he was a gardener.”

“Who took care of you, Ms. Beckett?”

“I told you before, Mr. Bridgeton,” The more he asked, the more stubborn her tone became. “The family that my mother worked for was very generous and took care of me after her death…”

“They took care of you, but they didn’t love you.”

“…They took care of me the best they could do…”

“Why so many lies, Ms. Beckett?”

Benedict saw her eyes widen, almost as if she were in shock.

“……..How did you know I was lying ?”

“I could see it in your eyes.”

Benedict knew that he should have stopped interrogating the poor girl moments ago, but he couldn’t help himself from rambling on. There was so much sadness in the girl’s eyes, and he had to know the depths of it.

“Aren’t you ever lonely Ms. Beckett? With no one to protect you, filling your gaps with deception ?”

“I have become quite accustomed to my lifestyle.”

“But that makes it more miserable, doesn’t it?”

“And what would you know of that, Mr. Bridgerton?” There was a sharpness in her tone, and Benedict felt his cheeks redden, Sophie was not looking for his pity or sympathy.

“I suppose I do not know,” he mumbled, noticing that he had overstepped. He stared down at his empty plate, regretting that he had pushed too hard. “But I do wish to understand…”

“Understand, Mr. Bridgerton? There is no need to understand…”

“I care about you,”

Benedict blurted out, almost instinctively.

“ I……I ….I meant that…I …worry about you.”

Benedict saw Sophie, who had a soft smile rising on the corner of her lips. Her shoulders and hands were relaxed, but there was a look of disbelief on her face.

“…I apologize that I have overstepped.”

Sophie quietly shook her head.

“…I will never understand your loneliness, truly.” Benedict fidgeted his hands. “But I do know how it feels to …be lost. Alone.”

“Even with a family like yours.”

“Even like a family like mine.”

He gave a weakening smile.

“You must think me of a privileged git,” Benedict continued, but Sophie quietly shook her head.

“You could feel lost and alone in a room of a hundred people, but at the same time you could feel most fulfilled when there’s only two in the room,” Sophie said softly.“ You don’t have to feel guilty about feeling lonely or lost, no matter what position you’re in.”

“Mmmm”

Benedict noticed that he couldn’t quite respond to her words. But there was something incredibly soothing about her voice, her words.

“But personally…” Sophie continued hesitantly, “ I never knew you felt so…lost. You seemed so sure of yourself. You didn’t hesitate to help me at the Cavender’s”

“I wouldn’t hesitate to help you,” He replied quickly, “I just feel so lost because…”

I lost the love of my life two years ago and have failed to find her ever since,

“…Ever since Eddie was born, and Miles, that is, Anthony and Kate’s boys,” Benedict couldn’t believe those words were coming out of himself. “I’ve been…uh, struggling..?”

Sophie suddenly noticed that the man in front of her was not the debonair, gallant Prince Charming Sophie had known in the masquerade, but a simple, honest man struggling to find purpose in life.

Sophie desperately wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, but she knew that was out of the question. Instead, she quietly put her hands on his, rubbing the palms of his hands. She knew she was overstepping, but she just needed to touch him somewhere.

“You’re hands are cold,”

Benedict smiled softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m meddling …”

Sophie quickly withdrew her hand, but Benedict caught it at the last second.

“No. I..… I like it.”

It was truly a silent night. Not like the ones in London, Benedict thought, and he could only hear the crackle from the fireplace.

“………I’m no longer the spare or the spare of the spare. Anthony wouldn’t need any help managing the estate in a few years…and I’ll be just a useless uncle.”

“You’re not useless.”

“But I am!” He groaned, grinding his head in his arms. “I have nothing in my hands, I don’t have any professions, trade, or specialty…”

“What about art?”

“What about it?”

“You’re talented. The sketches I saw…”

“I just…I just lost the passion for it. Or the love for it. I don’t think I can put myself out again.”

“What was once lost could be found,” Sophie quietly replied. Her voice was incredibly soft. “Sometimes the lord gives us chances in the most unexpected places,”

“I never thought you were a religious sort,”

“I’m not.” Sophie had a rather guilty look on her face. “I’m saying this from experience.”

But it was a sad smile Sophie had given him.

Benedict was in strong need of a cigarette. Or at least a stiff drink.

----------------------------------------

Benedict regretted ever giving a drink to one Sophie Beckett. He had forgotten that he had been drinking with an inexperienced woman of two and twenty, not the lads from Will’s bar or the bohemian artists in Granville’s parties. Benedict had offered too much, and apparently, Sophie had too much to drink.

I’ve never had a drink, Sophie timidly had admitted an hour earlier when he offered her a glass.

Oh, I do believe you will enjoy it, Ms. Beckett. Benedict foolishly had said, passing her one of his finest. Go on, a sip wouldn’t hurt you.

Oh, how ignorant and careless he was. Sophie Beckett was now on her eighth glass, currently giggling away happily to pour the ninth. Benedict would have to come up with an excuse to Mrs. Crabtree why one of his finest whiskey had disappeared in just one night.

The extent of her influence? Sophie had been rambling on how talented he was with his artistic pursuits, and how he truly resembled Prince Charming she had read in her childhood fairy tales.

Admittedly, Benedict did feel rather smug.

“You are a very charming gentleman, Mr. Bridgerton.” Sophie declared for the fifth time that night, softly tracing the graining on the table. He noticed that her fingertips were grazed with blisters and cuts, painful cracks on each side. He should get a bottle of lotion on his way back, he thought to himself. Although Benedict was bewildered by the amount of her consumption she decided to take, he knew how much she deserved a nice, good drink.

And he did enjoy seeing Sophie Beckett, always so prim and reserved, ramble on so high-spirited and…utterly drunk.

“…Why thank you, Ms. Beckett.”

With her pale cheeks flushed and her green eyes glowing, Benedict suddenly felt an immense amount of thirst, quickly taking another shot of his drink.

“It is your eyes, I suppose. Or is it your smile that pleases the eye?” Sophie slurred, dropping her head on the table, “With your talents and charms, you must have every man and woman at your disposal,”

Should he kiss her? A flash of thought skimmed through his mind. No, he firmly thought. He was a gentleman for god’s sake, and his father and mother had taught him better than to take advantage of an intoxicated lady. Taking liberty with a helpless maid, he would be as obnoxious as Cavender, the man he had saved Ms. Beckett from. He shuddered, reminiscing the moment he saw her in Cavender’s arms. Benedict sighed, ashamed that even the thought of kissing her had entered his mind.

But Benedict was sure that Sophie Beckett did hold some affection towards him, listening to her drunken slurs, he knew that somehow, unconsciously, he had captured Sophie Beckett’s heart, her subconscious entirely. Was it his looks? Was it his charms? Was it his family name?

It was true that Sophie Beckett was tempting, very tempting indeed. With her soft blond curls and her captivating green eyes, he could see the parts that would capture the eyes of a gentleman, despite her scrawny figure and the worker’s rags.

Just fifteen inches, Benedict thought, if he leaned over just a little, he would have her lips on his, and somewhere in his mind, instinctively, was screaming, demanding that she would be his. He simply just knew.

He could ravish her, cherish her, adore her with his whole body. He could dress her up in silk and satins, buy her ribbons and jewels, bonnets and dresses, everything a young woman would dream of. He could hide her away, she could be there for his pleasure, as his muse, his inspiration. He would sink her in his silk sheets. Perhaps he could even give her a family, which she seems to desperately want. She would never be alone.

For the first time in his life, he was making excuses to his lady in silver, the woman he had sworn would be his future wife.

A little one on the side wouldn’t hurt, would it?

But he was a gentleman. He knew that a drunken state was far from ideal to be making an offer, and there would be a perfect moment to ask her for her hand, to come to London and live with him. He would have to wait for that exact moment.

He just simply stared at Sophie Beckett, who seemed to be drifting off, her ample chest softly rising and falling.

Maybe he should just kiss her.

Benedict Bridgeton realized that he was also quite drunk as hell.

He staggered as he stood up to take a pitcher of glass, hoping that it would sober him up and water would drain the immense lust that seemed to be creeping up on him.

“Ms.Beckett, I advise you to be more careful with your drinks on future occasions.”

“…Mr. Bridgerton, you were the one who offered me these refreshments!” She mumbled, barely cracking an eye open.

“Well yes, I did, but…”

“You are quite a hypocrite.”

Benedict chuckled at the direct insult.

“The world is a dangerous place, Ms. Beckett. Typically a man would take advantage of you in such a secluded space as this…”

“Men are beasts,” She hummed,

“And men are beasts,” He sighed, searching for another glass to hand over to Ms. Beckett. She would have a terrible hangover, he thought, remembering the first one he had when his schoolmates smuggled a bottle of wine into the dormitory. He would tell her about it tomorrow morning, perhaps over a nice strong cup of tea….

“But you would never hurt me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Up until that moment, Benedict thought that he knew Sophie Beckett. He knew what ticked her, what made her laugh, what she wanted from him. He knew how she lied about almost everything of her past, how damaged she was, but how she firmly kept it inside. He knew how fragile, yet strong she was, how kind and caring she was. When he looked at her, he thought he knew everything.

“I know that you would never hurt me.”

But Sophie, simply looking up at him with her evergreen eyes, he saw an overwhelming amount of innocence, faith, and confidence towards him; a passionate gaze he couldn’t help but avert.

Benedict Bridgerton could read Sophie Beckett like the back of his hand.

Yet, she was a labyrinth he could never decipher.

----------------------------------------------

Carrying her up from the kitchen to the guest bedroom did not take that much effort. Her figure was so petite that she fit easily in arms, and he noticed that she was morbidly light, to the degree it concerned him. She must be skin and bones, he thought, was she not fed enough at the Cavenders? Although her face was still flushed, he winced at the coldness of her hands and feet as he tucked her in bed, putting extra blankets on the covers.

Benedict smiled at the little stuffed dog that sat on the dresser, not imagining that a practical maid like Sophie would keep such childlike trinkets. It was, rather dirty and worn out as if it had been kept for years, but he could see that it was made with intricacy. Made with fine velvet and beautiful beads for the eye, it was something his sisters would have, not something a housekeeper or a gardener could give to a poor child. Perhaps, it was the generous family that had given it to her.

Quite generous indeed.

He should get her a dog, he thought. Perhaps a Pomeranian or spaniels. But he was sure that she would love an English terrier. Benedict’s mind wondered happily as he imagined life as Sophie’s patron, promenading in the London streets with a puppy on the side. Oh things he could give her, the things he could teach her…

“Are you going to leave me, my lord?”

Benedict almost jerked at her address. No one had addressed him that way, except for a few women who had teased him for that lack of a title despite his wealth and prospects. Mostly in bed. He certainly did not expect it from one Sophie Beckett. Especially when he was fantasizing about Sophie as his mistress.

But Sophie’s tone held no teasing nor sultriness. It was almost childlike but hesitant and timid.

“Are you going to leave me again, my lord?”

Benedict noticed the quiver in her voice. It was the same tone Eloise used when he left school for Eaton, furious that she couldn’t leave with him, and would throw a tantrum every time holidays came to a close.

Are you going to leave me, Benedict? Again?

But while Eloise’s words were fumed with anger and frustration, there was a desperation in Sophie’s voice, a fear for loss, a fear for…abandonment. Almost as if she were begging him not to leave her.

What did she mean by My lord? Was it her former lover? A deceased partner? A former master? Thoughts wandered through his mind like a hurricane, but Benedict couldn’t help himself but go down on his knees and take her hand into his, softly caressing them as he had done every time with Eloise.

I’ll be back before you know it, Benedict had said gently as Eloise sobbed against his shoulders. You wouldn’t even notice that I was gone.!

With his knees on the bedside floor, Benedict finally saw that she was sobbing in her sleep, her endless tears gleaming in the candlelight.

“Please don’t leave me again,”

“I would never leave you, Sophia,” Benedict whispered, softly wiping off her tears.

“How could I ever leave you all alone?”

----------------------------------------------

Sophie woke up with the most terrible headache that she had ever had. It was as if humongous drums were banging in her head, and her body had never felt so heavy, so nauseous. Her throat was dying of thirst, but as she rolled over the covers, she was pleasantly surprised when she found a glass of water on the bedside table.

Ever so thoughtful, Sophie smiled softly. As she took a sip from the glass, she looked through the window, admiring the beautiful gardens that surrounded my cottage. Birds chirping in the distance, flowers blooming ever so radiantly, sunlight softly shining across her bedcovers….

Sunlight. Sunlight. ….sunlight?

Sheer panic was the only thing Sophie could feel for the next few seconds. With so much haste Sophie fumbled across the room, splashing water across her face, and rinsed her teeth to make herself, at least, presentable to Mr. Bridgerton. It had been years since she had overslept, and one time she did so, Armintia had torn her into pieces, punishing her with the terrible belt. Her fathers’s chocolate-colored belt from France. She could still remember the pain that struck her, the metal fittings that gouged her skin, staining the floor with sweat and blood.

Such a stupid, stupid girl, she cursed herself as she ran down the stairs. She could hear Armintia screeching in her head; you incolent girl, why do I even keep you here?! You foolish, lazy, girl. Good for nothing, son of a bitch…a child of a whore…Basturd, Basturd, Basturd….

“Oh, good morning Ms. Beckett.”

Benedict Bridgerton greeted her with a cheerful smile.

“You must feel terrible this morning. Aren’t you hungover, Ms. Beckett? I was hoping that you would wake up around noon so I could clear the mess…”

Benedict softly chuckled seeing Sophie look flabbergasted, her mouth hanging open in shock. He must have made a terrible mess, he was starting to regret even thinking that he could do it…

“You…you are not angry, Mr. Bridgerton?”

“Why would I ever be angry at you?”

“Because I overslept!” Sophie burst out, “I haven’t got your tea ready, or your breakfast, or your eggs, your bacon, your toast, and I haven’t got your sugar and milk and”

“Sophie, I want you to take a deep breath.”

Benedict’s voice was achingly soft and tender.

Sophie could finally see that there was no anger or annoyance or hatred in his eyes there was glee, almost as if he was going to break into a grin.

“I’ve never seen you with such messy hair,” he gave her a teasing crooked smile, and she felt her cheeks burn.

“I didn’t have time to tidy them up.”

“I’m surprised that you even woke up, Sophie.” Benedict gallantly replied, softly brushing a lock of hair off her face. The morning light shined on her like a halo, her blond curls almost glowing. “Considering the amount you drank, I thought you would sleep till noon,”

“…Was I that drunk?”

He was, standing rather close to her, she noticed.

“You were so irresistibly drunk,” Benedict grinned at her so dearly. “So adorably drunk.”

Benedict took a step forward, narrowing the distance between them. Perhaps this is the moment, he thought quietly to himself, he could lean in a bit more and…

Sophie took a step back.

“I hope I did not say anything to offend you, Mr.Bridgeton.”

“Offend me? Oh, no, no, no, no. Not at all, Ms. Beckett. Not at all. We had a lovely conversation didn’t we?” He frantically waved his arms around him. “I did enjoy our midnight chats, truly. Very engaging, very educational, very intriguing, very interesting, very agreeable. Wasn’t it Ms. Beckett?”

It was NOT the moment.

“…I’m afraid I don’t remember what we talked about, or what I said…” Sophie peered into his eyes guiltily, awkwardly fidgeting over the apron ribbons. “Or at least, after your glass of whiskey, I must have lost control and caused you so much trouble…”

“No, no. no no no no no. No. No trouble at all, Ms. Beckett.”

Sophie finally regained the emotional leeway to observe her surroundings, and she finally noticed that Benedict Bridgerton looked quite disheveled. No, he wasn’t disheveled. He was in a mess. His soft brown curls were disarrayed as if he ran his fingers through them too many times, flicked with sawdust and ashes. His white shirt was stained with…something, and his dark breeches were covered with flour and egg yolks.

And Sophie noticed that it was not just Benedict Bridgerton who was in the mess. The kitchen was an absolute fiasco. Flour, eggs, milk, wood, ashes, everything she saw on Benedict was scattered on the floor, every pot and pan were scattered every inch of the room, and he had taken out every bottle of seasoning from cupboards.

Even a Roman army couldn’t have caused such a catastrophe, Sophie found herself thinking.

“I was thinking that I could clean it up before you woke up.” Benedict’s voice was meek as mice.

“I knew you would wake up late, and you’ve been taking such wonderful care of me, so I wanted to show you my gratitude.”

“Oh.”

“So I thought I could make you breakfast.”

“Oh.”

“First I tried to make a loaf of bread,” he muttered, staring at the bags of flour that lay under the table. In heaps of flour that were sprinkled across the table, Sophie could see some kind of a lump he managed to make.

“Until I understood that bread was not made from just water and flour.”

“..Right,”

“Next, I tried to make an omelet. Initially, I thought, nothing hard, is it? Just mix them up and put them on the stove…”

Sophie saw at least a dozen eggs smashed miserably on the floor.

“And that didn’t end well, did it?”

“I see.”

“So I decided to reheat the delicious stew you made for us last night.”

Benedict gave a sheepish look at the window. The handle of the ax lay broken next to the stump, while the blade was stuck horizontally to the stump, not the chunk of wood lying next to it. At least he tried, Sophie thought.

“Until I realized I didn’t know how to put on the stove.”

Sophie didn’t know if she should kiss him on the lips or just strangle him to death. It was infuriating, almost maddening, considering the mess he had made (And how much food he had wasted); but there was something so endearing about the fact that he had attempted to do something for her.

Sophie broke out in a small grin, and Benedict felt a rush of relief. He was beginning to feel quite anxious, seeing that Sophie hardly reacted to what he was rambling on for the past few minutes. She looked…quite happy.

“So, I decided to rearrange the wonderful stew with what I could find. To refresh up the taste!”

“It is a wonderful idea, Mr. Bridgerton.”

His eyes lighted up like a candle.

“Isn’t it? Please, Ms. Beckett, go on and help yourself. I’ve already got it on a plate right here. You don’t mind cold stew, would you?”

“No, not at all.”

Sophie took her seat at the edge of the table, trying to ignore the flour and eggs scattered around the floor. The stew did look different from the night before; when she had made it, it was in a lovely shade of yellow, but now…it was rather grayish.

What on earth did he use? Sophie thought to herself as she took a sip.

“Any thoughts?”

“….It tastes remarkably marvelous, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a terrible liar, Sophie?”