#alexander bridgerton x emma rutledge

[unfortunate-arrow]

To See My Son Become A Father

A/N: For the Benophie Week 2023 prompt “baby.” Set in 1857 and features mentions of difficulties with pregnancy/infertility but not more than in When He Was Wicked

Benedict Bridgerton woke with a start, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to darkness. Whatever candles had been lit had clearly gone out, but Benedict wasn’t sure how long ago they had. Nevertheless, he stood up and stretched, his muscles and bones protesting the movements. Nothing made him feel all of his 70 years quite as much as sleeping on anything that wasn’t a bed. Except maybe a bumpy carriage ride. Squinting, he could just make out the time on the clock. 2:05 am.

“Mama? Father?” Flickering candlelight illuminated the face of Benedict’s second son’s face.

“Is everything alright, Alexander?” Benedict asked.

“Oh, everything’s absolutely perfect, Father,” Alexander replied, a wide grin gracing the boy’s face. Although Alexander wasn’t much of a boy these days. After all, his son was 36. 

“Did everything go well with Emma?” Sophie’s sleepy voice asked, cutting through the darkness.

“Yes. Emma’s fine. It was a bit much, though, and she’s exhausted. But there’s been no bleeding like there was with Aunt Lucy after El and Frannie were born.”  

“And the baby?”

“They’re fine. Great. It was a bit early, but only by a week or so. But they’re fine. Absolutely perfect. Do you want to meet them?” 

“Of course!”

Sophie popped up, squeezed Benedict’s hand and pulled him to follow Alexander upstairs. Benedict moved on autopilot, with everything moving in slow motion as Alexander’s words sunk in.

“Wait, wait. They? Alexander?” he asked, once they stopped moving. 

“Yeah. They, Father. Emma had twins,” Alexander replied, his voice sounding happily dazed.

“Twins?” Sophie echoed and Alexander nodded.

“Now, wait here. I’ll bring them out.” 

Alexander disappeared for a moment and Benedict caught Sophie’s eye, mouthing the word “twins.” A sigh of relief escaped him though. He knew that Alexander and Emma had spent nearly ten years trying for a baby and now, they had two. They could rest easy and perhaps, the dowager Duchess of Ashbourne (now nearing 90!) could relax. There were many moments where Benedict would swear that Lady Ashbourne was much more intimidating than Lady Danbury ever was.

“Father, Mama, I’d like you to meet Vincent Charles Bridgerton,” Alexander said, emerging from the darkened room with a baby in his arms. He passed baby Vincent to Benedict, who held the boy (his grandson!) close.

“Hello, Vincent. I’m your grandpapa,” Benedict whispered.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous, Alexander. He has your nose,” Sophie said, tracing a finger down Vincent’s little cheek.

“And your ears,” Benedict added, muffling a laugh as he thought about his late father’s joke that he had his late mother’s ears.

“And you said his middle name was Charles?” Sophie asked.

“Yes. We couldn’t agree on a middle name and well, we both have a brother named Charles. Emma had a close relationship with her brother, Charles, and I’ve always liked Charlie,” Alexander answered.

“Oh, Alexander, that’s so sweet.” Sophie squeezed her son’s hand tightly. Alexander blushed and ducked his head bashfully.

“Well, I’ll go get his brother. You can keep holding Vincent, though, Father.”

Benedict looked down and stared at the baby in his arms again. The last baby he had held, the previous week, had been William’s youngest and only son, Oscar. Like Oscar, Vincent looked like a Bridgerton. Benedict would swear up and down that the light hair on the baby’s head was the Bridgerton chestnut.

“Mama, Father. I’d like you to meet Vincent’s twin brother, Beckett Nicholas Bridgerton,” Alexander called, emerging from the room again.

This time, he placed the baby into Sophie’s arms, who was staring, bewildered, at Alexander. 

“Beckett?” she whispered.

“Yeah. Emma and I weren’t expecting twins and well, we only had the one boy’s name picked out. And after seeing him, I suggested Beckett. After you. With Nicholas being for Papa and myself.”

If he hadn’t been holding his newborn grandson, Benedict would have crossed the room and wrapped Sophie up in his arms because she had started to cry. She’d done the same thing when they had learned that Charles and his wife, Nell, had named their eldest daughter, Sophia, eight years earlier. And when she discovered that Gregory and Lucy’s second daughter was named Hermione Sophia, twenty-six years earlier. 

[unfortunate-arrow]

Bridgerton Next Gen OC Character Skecthes - Benophie Edition

warnings: discussions of death, famine, and period typical attitudes

𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙖 𝙅𝙖𝙣𝙚 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙙

Helena Jane “Nell” Shepherd, born January 19, 1821, was the only child born to Norman (1798-1826) and Abigail (1800-1826) Shepherd in Bottesford, England. A distant cousin to the Baron Bastable, Nell was placed in his custody at the age of 5. Her parents had succumbed to consumption. Cecil Bastable (1790-1844) and his wife, Henrietta (1796-1844) graciously welcomed Nell into their home and raised her as their own. Unfortunately, their son, Horace (born 1812) did not take to Nell with any kindness. In fact, upon the moment that the mourning of his parents ended in 1844, Horace proposed to Nell.

Fleeing Horace Bastable’s incessant and forceful proposals, Nell stumbled into the position of governess. She worked for a handful of rich families before agreeing to meet with Viscount Anthony Bridgerton to discuss a possible place of employment. Nell was officially hired by the Bridgerton family in April of 1846 as the governess to the five youngest children of Mr. Gregory and Lady Lucy Bridgerton’s nine children. Ant, Ben, Colin, Eloise, and Frannie Bridgerton were intense children, who had run off a series of previous governesses. However, they didn’t scare off Nell. In addition, Nell also befriended the eldest daughter, Katharine, who was 18 and nearing her first season.

June of 1846 saw Nell meeting the man who would capture her heart, Dr. Charles “Charlie” Bridgerton. They married in late 1846 and had five children together: Norman, Sophia, Meg, Franklin, and Linus. Their eldest son, Norman Benedict, was born in January of 1848. Their eldest daughter, Sophia Abigail, followed a few months later in June of 1849. Their youngest daughter, Margaret Helena “Meg,” was born in 1851 with their middle son, Franklin Charles, being born three years later in 1854. Their youngest son and child, Linus Edmund, was born in 1858, four years after Franklin and a little over ten years after Norman.

Nell is of average height, about 5’6”. She has an average, albeit slightly lean, build which is mostly due to her struggles with finding consistent employment. Her eyes are hazel, often becoming darker in low light and greener in bright light. In addition, Nell has curly black hair, inherited from her mother, which she keeps at an average length. She also has a small splotchy birthmark on her right shoulder, which is rarely visible to the public’s eye. She keeps a simple and functional yet elegant style, although it’s generally much simpler during her employment as a governess.

Nell is a reserved person. She’s very private, rarely sharing her thoughts with others. Despite this, Nell is very intuitive and thoughtful. She’s thoughtful and considerate and caring. In addition, Nell is compassionate and empathetic which comes to be very helpful in her chosen profession of governess. In addition, Nell is quite intelligent and well read. She’s charming, principled, idealistic, and sensitive. She thinks through quite a bit, sometimes even overthinking her every action. Nell is also a perfectionist and is very organized with hopes of everything going exactly to plan. She’s often found reading, working on embroidery, or playing the piano. 

𝓔𝓶𝓶𝓪 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓡𝓾𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓭𝓰𝓮

Emma Catherine Rutledge, born January 24, 1824, was the fifth born child to the duke and Duchess of Ashbourne, Lady Catherine (1792-1824) and Lord George (born 1787) Rutledge. She had four older siblings: Susannah (born 1814), Charles (born 1816), Laurence (born 1818), and Giles (born 1820). Her mother died of childbed fever, shortly after Emma was born and as such, Emma has no memories of her mother. Shortly afterwards, her grandmother, Lady Arabella Rutledge, the dowager duchess, moved in with the family to help supervise the children as Emma’s father refused to consider marrying again. He had loved his duchess, and couldn’t stomach marrying another. In 1836, Emma’s sister, Susannah, married Bernard Fitzhugh (born 1809). They had three children: Dudley (born 1837), Maria (born 1839), and George (born 1843).  Of her four siblings, Emma was closest to her eldest brother, Charles.

Emma had a pretty good childhood. Everything was fairly simple until she began preparing for her debut into the ton. Her grandmother had high expectations for Emma, which included the fact that Emma was not supposed to wear her spectacles. She felt like a fool without them, especially on the dance floor. In addition, her grandmother had strict ideas about who it was appropriate for Emma to interact with, given that she was the daughter of a duke. Luckily, Emma’s father held the power of final approval and he kept Emma’s opinions in mind.

In 1847, Emma was introduced to Alexander Bridgerton, an architect who had gone to school with her brother, Giles, by the dowager viscountess Bridgerton. Her grandmother fiercely disapproved, but Emma found herself falling for the young Mr. Bridgerton. He was handsome and kind and swoon worthy. After a lot of convincing and promising to her grandmother, Emma eventually married Alexander. They had two children, identical twins named Vincent Charles and Beckett Nicholas, in 1857.

Emma stands at 5’3” and has an average build. She has light auburn hair that’s kept to a fashionable length and often styled in the simplest fashionable style available. She has green eyes, which are often obscured by spectacles. Emma’s eyesight is quite poor, therefore she wears spectacles whenever possible. In addition, Emma’s style trends towards whatever’s most fashionable at the time but she has no qualms about picking simpler styles. She generally wears blues and greens, as she feels like those colors complement her appearance best.

Emma is a private and thoughtful person. She prefers to keep to herself, only suffering through balls and such to please her grandmother as Emma also has some people pleasing tendencies. She’s reluctant to open up to most people. Often, her only confidant was her eldest brother, Charles. In addition, Emma is creative and principled and kind. She’s also quite stubborn and sensitive. She can take criticism to heart. In addition, Emma feels like she’s under a lot of pressure to live up to her “perfect” sister, Susannah who married an earl and never needed spectacles. Emma is also very supportive and organized. She will often struggle with decisions, before ultimately giving into what her heart is telling her to go with. 

𝗥𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗻 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗢’𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆

Róisín Mary O’Connolly, born May 2, 1824, was the only child born to John (1797-1830) and Mary (1800-1830) O’Connolly on their small farm in County Donegal, Ireland. From an Irish Gaelic speaking family, Róisín did not learn English until the age of three, when her parents were forced to relocate from their farm to the small village. At the age of 6, Róisín was orphaned after her parents fell ill and moved to Galway, where her father’s elder brother, Michael (1794-1847), and his wife, Ellen (1798-1846) lived. This arrangement lasted until the 1840s. In 1845, the potato crop failed and poor Irish farmers fell into a deep famine. Róisín’s Aunt Ellen fell ill first and with little money, there was nothing that either Róisín or Michael could do. Then, Michael fell ill and passed away as well, leaving Róisín to weather the year known as “Black ‘47” alone.

In late 1847, Róisín received correspondence from a distant cousin. Margaret Bolton, the countess of Fotherby, had written to Róisín with an offer to sponsor her for a season amongst the ton. Reluctantly, Róisín accepted and shortly after, traveled to London. Raised Catholic and devoted to her identity as an Irish Catholic, she refused to attend the same Anglican masses that Margaret and her husband, Peter, earl of Fotherby did. Instead, she found a Catholic church to attend and did so religiously. In addition, she continued to use her first language of Irish Gaelic. 

It was early in the season of 1848 when Róisín met the quiet William Bridgerton. With chestnut hair and green eyes, William immediately captivated Róisín. But after their first meeting, she had never believed that she’d actually see him again. She did, though, and as they came into a deep acquaintance, love blossomed. A much more forceful personality than William, Róisín also found herself struggling to stay silent when she heard the pompous and spoiled lords discussing the famine in Ireland. In fact, she was rarely able to stay silent. Her people were suffering and they deserved help. Róisín herself had donated the majority of her pocket money to those working to alleviate the effects of the famine. Altogether, it was an interesting season that had a stranger conclusion. Róisín married William that fall of 1848. Together they had four children: Maeve, Kathleen, Ivy, and Oscar. A daughter named Maeve Sophie was born in 1850 followed by another daughter, Kathleen Mary, in 1852. Two years later in 1854, their third and final daughter, Ivy Róisín, was born. Finally, their only son, Oscar William, was born in 1857. 

Róisín stands at 5’5” and holds a lean build, that during the famine years in Ireland was an unhealthy lean. She has black hair that’s as short as fashionably allowed for women. Her eyes are a dark green, a sharp contrast to the light green of William and his sister, Violet. In addition, Róisín has freckles all over her face. The sun brings them out more, but she’s always had a smattering of freckles dotting her face. Róisín prefers a simple style with a fondness for blues and greens, similar to her sister-in-law, Lady Emma.

At first glance, Róisín appears to be very outspoken, and in some ways, she is. However, she also has a more reserved nature. It’s only the things that she’s passionate about that can get her to be outspoken. She can also be argumentative, especially when it comes to her beliefs. She holds steadfast to her beliefs, and can be reluctant to change those. In addition, she is very stubborn and intelligent. Róisín has good practical skills and she’s quite hardworking. She also can be compassionate, although the extent of her compassion can depend on several different factors. She can take things personally and tends to keep her innermost thoughts private. 

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 ���𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

Jonathan Frederick “Jack” Fullerton, born April 6, 1821, was the fourth child born to Lady Josephine (1792-1835) and Tom (1791-1831) Fullerton in London England. He had three older siblings, Henry “Harry” (1812-1831), Anne (born 1815), and Isabel (born 1818). Jack was ten years old when his father and older brother passed away in a carriage accident, and four years later, his mother passed away from an illness. For the next few years, Jack was raised by his unmarried sisters and insisted on helping the family make money. Anne married an upcoming merchant by the name of James Clarke in 1838 and they had three daughters: Martha (born 1840), Frances (born 1842) and Thomasina (born 1845). His sister, Isabel, married a shopkeeper by the name of Benjamin Moller in 1842 and they had two children: Joseph (born 1845) and Elizabeth (born 1847).

Between the ages of 14 and 23, Jack held many different jobs. At the age of 23, he found a position as an apprentice in a printshop. He was content to work there until December of 1847 when Lady Christina Worthington, the dowager marchioness of Insley — and Jack’s aunt — appeared. She had spent the previous year searching for Lady Josephine and her children, as an old loophole stated that the Insley marquessate could pass down to the son of the most recent female relative as long as she held the blood of the marquessate in her. Her husband, Martin (1790-1844) was Lady Josephine’s elder brother and the second son. Their eldest brother, Frederick (1784-1838), had died unmarried with no heir. Thus, Lady Christina had deduced that Jack was the marquessate’s heir… much to his own confusion. But there was no turning down the dowager and Jack found himself entering a world that was completely foreign to him, a world that was scandalized by his existence. After all, his mother had been the daughter of a marquess and his father had been her brother’s valet… and to make matters even more surprising (and scandalizing), his mother had jilted an earl to marry his father, a lowly valet. 

As his first season begins in 1848, Jack feels more and more adrift. But a chance meeting with a Miss Violet Bridgerton changes everything. She’s made it her mission to help him acclimate to the ton. She’s kind and pretty and dear lord does Jack want to know her better. And while there’s a lot of unexpected things that occur during Jack’s first (and only) season, by the end of the season, he’s found his marchioness in Violet. Together, they have four children: Thomas, Levi, Josie, and Leo. Eldest son Thomas Benedict was born in November of 1850, with their second child, Levi Jonathan, being born about two years later in July 1852. Their only daughter, Josephine Sophia “Josie,” followed in January of 1855, with their youngest, Leopold Harry “Leo,” being born in September of 1856. 

Jack stands at 6’3” with a lean and athletic build. His hair is dark blonde, which is so dark that it’s almost brown. His eyes are a dull blue, almost unremarkable. Jack also has freckles across his nose and cheeks, which come out more in the sun. In addition, he has a small scar by the left corner of his lip. He tends to dress very understated and very simple. Jack is not a fan dressing ostentatiously or in bright colors. He prefers to stay under the radar, with navies, browns, blacks, and the occasional green. 

Jack is a reserved, generally level-headed man. He’s practical, responsible, dutiful, and an organized planner, all traits that one would think would help Jack in his transition from print shop apprentice to marquess. However, Jack’s also very awkward in situations where he’s uncomfortable and unfortunately, he’s very uncomfortable with the ton. He can be quite direct in these situations as well, which doesn’t help him with his fellow aristocrats. He’s also quite intelligent and logical. He prefers when things can be thought through and Jack’s not known for making impulsive decisions. In addition, he’s also fairly private and prefers to keep his cards close to his chest. To deal with his stress and anxiety about assuming the responsibility of the Insley title, Jack takes up running, boxing, and fencing. He also spends quite a bit of time with his nieces and nephew. 

[unfortunate-arrow]

I’d Still Dance With You

A/N: A quick little story for the prompt “wedding” for Benophie Week 2023. Set in October of 1848 and featuring mentions of my Bridgerton: Next Gen OCs.

“The last one,” Benedict Bridgerton murmured, wrapping his arms around his wife. 

Sophie sighed, leaning back into him and looked out at the ballroom. The celebration had been limited to family only, with a major ball celebrating the three Bridgerton marriages in the next season. But, even with only family, it was still crowded. Her eyes scanned the floor, landing on the corner where all four of her children were waltzing with their spouses. This event, in particular, was to celebrate William’s marriage to the lovely Miss Róisín O’Connolly.

“The last one,” she echoed.

“They look happy, don’t they?” Benedict asked. 

“Yeah. It’s strange that they’re all married now.”

“I didn’t think that Violet would ever marry, not after her proclamation earlier in the season.”

Sophie laughed, remembering the morning that their daughter had come down and proclaimed that this would be her final season and if she wasn’t married by the end of it, well she’d be a spinster. The marquess of Insley, or Jack as he preferred to be called by his Christian name, had come out of nowhere… literally. Jack had a complicated story involving a lady jilting an earl for a valet and a print shop apprentice being the heir to a marquessate and proved to be the man for Violet. “Yes, but Jack is the perfect match for our little girl,” she replied.

“That he is. They all found perfect matches. Just like I did.”

“Do you remember our wedding?”

“Like it was yesterday. Ironically, William’s wedding reminded me of ours.”

“How so? It was almost twice as long as ours.”

“Well, the ton doesn’t approve of Róisín and they didn’t approve of you, Sophie.”

“For different reasons, Benedict. And the ton aren’t exactly fond of Nell, either. Or Grace… and don’t forget that someone tried to kill Charlotte’s husband.”

“Yes. Us Bridgertons certainly know how to cause a scandal. But it was the simplicity of their wedding that reminded me of ours.” He paused for a moment. “Do you ever wish we had had a bigger, grander wedding?”

“No. It was perfect. It was you and me and something that I never believed would ever happen.”

They fell silent again, observing their children waltz. Violet’s head rested against her husband’s chest, a besotted look that only love match newlyweds had on her face. After all, Violet was a newlywed. She and Jack had married two weeks prior, with their niece, Katharine’s wedding the previous week.

Charles held his wife, Nell, close and Sophie had an inkling that she and Benedict would be gaining a second grandchild in the coming year. Their oldest grandchild, little Norman, was up in the nursery, sleeping away while his parents celebrated his uncle’s marriage. Charles and Nell had contented looks on their faces, and were in a light conversation. 

Next to them, Alexander held his wife, Emma, close. It was a different hold than Charles and Nell, a little more protective. Sophie imagined they were feeling the strain of Emma’s grandmother, Lady Ashbourne’s demands for great-grandchildren. But, she knew that Alexander and Emma could stand against the world together. After all, they had convinced Lady Ashbourne to let them marry, although Sophie suspected her mother-in-law had played a vital part in that. 

Finally, there was the happy couple they were all celebrating. William twirled Róisín around, adding an extra flair to the waltz that no one would expect from him. It made Sophie’s heart happy to see her quiet, withdrawn son with so much emotion written on his face. William could be too much like his father when it came to emotions and kept too much inside. 

“Could I have the next dance?” Benedict asked, breaking Sophie out of her musing.

“Of course you can.”

As the music swelled to a waltz (again), Sophie took her husband’s hand and let him lead her out onto the floor. 

[silverhallow]

🥹🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍

To See My Son Become A Father

A/N: For the Benophie Week 2023 prompt “baby.” Set in 1857 and features mentions of difficulties with pregnancy/infertility but not more than in When He Was Wicked

Benedict Bridgerton woke with a start, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to darkness. Whatever candles had been lit had clearly gone out, but Benedict wasn’t sure how long ago they had. Nevertheless, he stood up and stretched, his muscles and bones protesting the movements. Nothing made him feel all of his 70 years quite as much as sleeping on anything that wasn’t a bed. Except maybe a bumpy carriage ride. Squinting, he could just make out the time on the clock. 2:05 am.

“Mama? Father?” Flickering candlelight illuminated the face of Benedict’s second son’s face.

“Is everything alright, Alexander?” Benedict asked.

“Oh, everything’s absolutely perfect, Father,” Alexander replied, a wide grin gracing the boy’s face. Although Alexander wasn’t much of a boy these days. After all, his son was 36. 

“Did everything go well with Emma?” Sophie’s sleepy voice asked, cutting through the darkness.

“Yes. Emma’s fine. It was a bit much, though, and she’s exhausted. But there’s been no bleeding like there was with Aunt Lucy after El and Frannie were born.”  

“And the baby?”

“They’re fine. Great. It was a bit early, but only by a week or so. But they’re fine. Absolutely perfect. Do you want to meet them?” 

“Of course!”

Sophie popped up, squeezed Benedict’s hand and pulled him to follow Alexander upstairs. Benedict moved on autopilot, with everything moving in slow motion as Alexander’s words sunk in.

“Wait, wait. They? Alexander?” he asked, once they stopped moving. 

“Yeah. They, Father. Emma had twins,” Alexander replied, his voice sounding happily dazed.

“Twins?” Sophie echoed and Alexander nodded.

“Now, wait here. I’ll bring them out.” 

Alexander disappeared for a moment and Benedict caught Sophie’s eye, mouthing the word “twins.” A sigh of relief escaped him though. He knew that Alexander and Emma had spent nearly ten years trying for a baby and now, they had two. They could rest easy and perhaps, the dowager Duchess of Ashbourne (now nearing 90!) could relax. There were many moments where Benedict would swear that Lady Ashbourne was much more intimidating than Lady Danbury ever was.

“Father, Mama, I’d like you to meet Vincent Charles Bridgerton,” Alexander said, emerging from the darkened room with a baby in his arms. He passed baby Vincent to Benedict, who held the boy (his grandson!) close.

“Hello, Vincent. I’m your grandpapa,” Benedict whispered.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous, Alexander. He has your nose,” Sophie said, tracing a finger down Vincent’s little cheek.

“And your ears,” Benedict added, muffling a laugh as he thought about his late father’s joke that he had his late mother’s ears.

“And you said his middle name was Charles?” Sophie asked.

“Yes. We couldn’t agree on a middle name and well, we both have a brother named Charles. Emma had a close relationship with her brother, Charles, and I’ve always liked Charlie,” Alexander answered.

“Oh, Alexander, that’s so sweet.” Sophie squeezed her son’s hand tightly. Alexander blushed and ducked his head bashfully.

“Well, I’ll go get his brother. You can keep holding Vincent, though, Father.”

Benedict looked down and stared at the baby in his arms again. The last baby he had held, the previous week, had been William’s youngest and only son, Oscar. Like Oscar, Vincent looked like a Bridgerton. Benedict would swear up and down that the light hair on the baby’s head was the Bridgerton chestnut.

“Mama, Father. I’d like you to meet Vincent’s twin brother, Beckett Nicholas Bridgerton,” Alexander called, emerging from the room again.

This time, he placed the baby into Sophie’s arms, who was staring, bewildered, at Alexander. 

“Beckett?” she whispered.

“Yeah. Emma and I weren’t expecting twins and well, we only had the one boy’s name picked out. And after seeing him, I suggested Beckett. After you. With Nicholas being for Papa and myself.”

If he hadn’t been holding his newborn grandson, Benedict would have crossed the room and wrapped Sophie up in his arms because she had started to cry. She’d done the same thing when they had learned that Charles and his wife, Nell, had named their eldest daughter, Sophia, eight years earlier. And when she discovered that Gregory and Lucy’s second daughter was named Hermione Sophia, twenty-six years earlier.