#benophie next gen

[silverhallow]

Every Breath You Take

Violet Bridgerton II x Edward Becker (OC) Love Story

Chapter 1: Wonderstruck

Summer 1838

Edward had been to My Cottage before, he stopped regularly on his way to Eton to collect William Bridgerton but it was the summer of 1838 that would forever stick in his mind.

He was 16 years old and was becoming more aware of what was to become him in a few short years. He was the only son of the Duke of Somerset and he was 10 years younger than his older sisters and he had been unexpected but to his father, a welcome relief but now at 16, his father was actually taking an interest in him and preparing him for inheriting the Dukedom.

He’d spent a lot of time alone or with his cousin, the future Earl of Devon, Thomas Shuffield before he reached Eton where within days he’d become best friends with William Bridgerton.

William had everything that Edward had wanted in his family and often found himself jealous of the stories that William would tell him about his escapades with his cousins and siblings during their breaks from school and whilst he had heard a lot about William’s younger sister, he had never met her.

Over the last few years when he had stopped at My Cottage, Violet Bridgerton had often not been at My Cottage, having been either at Romney Hall or visiting her aunt and uncle at the parsonage but that fateful day, she had been home.

Edward had meant to spend the night at My Cottage as was custom before he would set off with William to collect Thomas on their return to the school but the weather had been bad and it had meant that he had to sleep on the road and arrived just after when the Bridgerton’s would break their fast.

He had sent a man ahead on horseback to let William and his parents know and he knew Mrs Bridgerton would worry about him if he was not there by the evening, when he arrived Mrs Bridgerton welcomed him at the doorstep and gave him a motherly hug and explained she’d prepared a bath for him if he wished to freshen up and eat before they departed.

He thanked her profusely, feeling awful from sleeping in the carriage and desperately hungry, so he made his way through the comfortable country home towards the guest room he would usually reside in and as he made his way onto the landing, thinking longingly of the hot water and Mrs Bridgerton’s cooks biscuits, there was a commotion and he heard the bark of the Bridgerton family dog Arthur and as a door opened he heard a girls voice “No Artie! Give that back!” and then the dog appeared with a rag in his mouth as he made a bid for freedom down the hall.

Edward chuckled and carried on walking only to find himself being crashed into not even two seconds later and he felt a cold wetness spill across his chest and as he looked down he saw a blur of blonde hair and the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

“Ooops! I am so sorry!!!” said the girl and all Edward could do was just stare, blinking like an idiot as his brain seemed to stall as he took in the girl.

“Vivi! Artie’s down the hall with your painting rag, if he gets in Dad’s stuff he’ll… well he’ll not murder you but he won’t be happy” came Will’s voice as he appeared around the corner “Lord, what happened to you Ed? Vivi you need to watch where you’re going”

“Right, yes sorry… I’ll go get Artie, sorry again” Vivi said to Edward before running off around the corner before his brain could mutter any words.

“It’s not a problem” he said half-stupidly as he looked at the space and just blinked.

Will just laughed and clapped him on the shoulder “sorry about Violet, she doesn’t look here she is going sometimes, especially when Artie is involved. Come here, I think i’ve got a spare waistcoat. Mrs C will get that cleaned up and send it down to us at school…”

Whatever else happened that afternoon Edward had no idea, it was all a blur as he swapped his waistcoat and put on one of his best friends, but he didn’t see Violet again as he was in the carriage within an hour but he was certain of one thing as he climbed into the carriage…

He was almost 99% sure he had just met the woman he wanted to marry…

[unfortunate-arrow]

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Mr. and Mrs. Benedict Bridgerton had four children. As the second son with a wife of questionable ancestry, Mr. and Mrs. B. Bridgerton’s children do not bring the intrigue that the children of the Viscount and Viscountess as well as Mr. B. Bridgerton’s sisters’ numerous children. Eldest son Charles (intimately known as Charlie) is a country doctor, based in Wiltshire not far from where he grew up. Dr. Bridgerton was not often seen in London due to his demanding career. As such, it was no surprise that Dr. Bridgerton found his wife outside of town. What was surprising was that Dr. Bridgerton’s wife, one Miss Helena Shepherd was the governess to a handful of Dr. Bridgerton’s cousins. Meanwhile, second son Alexander is based in London, as a renowned architect. Of course, Mr. Alexander Bridgerton’s renown did not help him in his courtship of Lady Emma Rutledge, the youngest daughter of the Duke of Ashbourne. The dowager duchess, Lady Emma’s grandmother, was mightily against the match and, reader, it is said that the dowager viscountess, Mr. Alexander Bridgerton’s grandmother, was instrumental in organizing the match. Third and youngest son, William, has recently become a professor of history and the French language at Oxford. The most elusive of Mr. and Mrs. B. Bridgerton’s children, Mr. W. Bridgerton was known to keep the company of his family above all else. It was Mr. W. Bridgerton, reader, that married the Irish and Catholic Miss Roisin O’Connolly, ward to the earl of Fotherby. Mr. and Mrs. B. Bridgerton’s only daughter, Violet, has had a difficult series of seasons on the marriage mart. A kind and friendly young woman, Miss V. Bridgerton had been courted by no fewer than six different men. It was the sixth man, the newly minted marquess of Insley (and, reader, Lord Insley has a scandal of his own), that finally captured to picky Miss V. Bridgerton’s heart.  

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗘𝗱𝗺𝘂𝗻𝗱 “𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗲” 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

Born in 1818, Charlie is named after his invented maternal grandfather and his real paternal grandfather. It was the easiest name decision that Benedict ever made. Naming his son after his father was the easiest decision ever… significantly easier than naming Alexander and William and easier than picking Violet’s middle name. He usually goes by Charlie.

Charlie, like both his brothers, inherited the Bridgerton chestnut brown hair. In addition, he has the same color eyes as his mother. Charlie stands at 6’1”, which makes him taller than Alexander but shorter than William. 

Charlie’s godparents are Posy and Anthony. 

Charlie is a momma’s boy. He adores his mother. They’ve always been close and he often goes to her for advice.

Out of his family, Charlie is the most in touch with his emotions. He’s definitely an introvert, but he is able to articulate his emotions better than any of his siblings (and his father). Charlie also enjoys spending time with other people, although not as much as his sister does. 

Charlie has a very curious nature. He wants to know everything about everything. He loves to learn and has a very open mind about new scientific and medical discoveries.

Charlie is a doctor. He was driven, in part, by the feeling of helplessness that accompanied his little brother’s horse riding accident. He took a few classes during his early years of university and fell in love. Charlie works in the village that he grew up in, taking over after the village’s old doctor retired. In addition, Charlie generally accepts medical advancements easily. He’s known to talk people’s ears off about the new theories and advancements that pop up, especially when he’s in London. However, Charlie has never wanted to be a city doctor. He’s quite comfortable with working in the country as long as he can keep up with discoveries and advancements from the city. 

In the summer of 1846, Charlie took a little holiday to visit his Uncle Gregory and Aunt Lucy and their horde of children. He loved his silly mass of cousins. He just hadn’t been counting on her. Her, of course, referred to the governess that Gregory and Lucy had hired a few months prior, a Miss Helena “Nell” Shepherd. Charlie fell hard and fast for Miss Nell Shepherd, and she felt it too, although she was a lot more cautious than Charlie. They married in November of 1846. Charlie was 28 and Nell was 25.

Charlie and Nell have five children together. Their eldest child, a son named Norman Benedict Bridgerton, was born in early 1848. Eighteen months later, in the summer of 1849, Sophia Abigail Bridgerton, was born. Three years later, in 1852, Margaret Helena “Meg” Bridgerton was born. Two years later, in 1854, James Edmund Bridgerton was born. Three years later, in 1857, their youngest son, Shepherd Charles Bridgerton, was born. 

In the modern ‘verse, pediatrician Charlie Bridgerton meets year 2/first grade teacher Nell Shepherd when his little cousin, Eloise, invites him to speak during her school’s career day. Nell also happens to be his little cousin (and Eloise’s twin sister), Frannie’s teacher.

𝗔𝗹𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗕𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

Born in 1820, Alexander’s middle name, Benedict, is after his father. Benedict had initially been a bit reluctant but eventually came around when he heard the names together.

Alexander, like his brothers, inherited the Bridgerton chestnut hair. He also inherited Sophie’s eye color. Alexander is the shortest of Benedict and Sophie’s three boys, standing at 6’0”… which means that he’s still taller than many of his cousins who are on average between 5’9” and 5’11”. 

Alexander’s godparents are Colin and Eloise. 

Alexander is a bit of a momma’s boy. He’s not as close to Sophie as Charlie is, but he’s closer to her than either William or (at least, during childhood) Violet. 

Alexander has a protective streak. He refuses to put up with people saying negative things about his family. In addition, Alexander also refuses to stand by when people are being bullied. As a result, he got into a lot of fights at school with older boys who were picking on the smaller boys. He also had a lot of fights with people who said things about his family. Alexander is especially protective of William, after the younger boy’s horse riding accident. 

Alexander is the most artistic of Benedict and Sophie’s four children. He could be a talented painter if he wanted to be one. However, Alexander also has Sophie’s knack for numbers. These two talents lead Alexander into the world of architecture and he becomes a talented architect.

Alexander enjoys fencing and is a talented fencer. He’s the best out of his brothers and is the only one who can regularly beat Violet at it. In addition, Alexander enjoys practicing boxing, but he’s rarely interested in competing.

Alexander is an introvert, who prefers to spend time with a select group of people, mostly his big family. As an adult, he often feels like he expunges most of his energy on his clients. Therefore, when it comes time to attend balls, Alexander is usually less than enthusiastic. However, he is more extroverted than William, but not as extroverted as Charlie or Violet.

Alexander usually appears fairly uptight, but he’s actually a romantic at heart. He enjoys doing small romantic gestures for the woman he’s in love with. If you asked his wife, Lady Emma, the most meaningful gift that she ever received from Alexander was a pair of spectacles while they were courting. 

In the 1847 season, Alexander promised his grandmother that he would attend more balls than usual. It ends up being a pretty good decision as, at a ball hosted by the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton, Alexander meets Lady Emma Rutledge, the daughter of a duke. He falls hard for the young woman, and despite her grandmother’s objections, Lady Emma falls in love with him too. Alexander married Lady Emma that year, 1847. He was twenty-seven, while Emma was twenty-four. 

Alexander and Emma had two children together. Their twins, Vincent Charles Bridgerton and Beckett Nicholas Bridgerton, were born in 1857. Alexander and Emma faced difficulty conceiving and carrying children, a difficulty that brought Alexander closer to his Aunt Francesca and Uncle Michael. 

In the modern ‘verse, Alexander is an architect who falls in love with a rich girl and artist, Emma. 

𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗺 𝗡𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

Born in 1822, William’s middle name, Nicholas, is shared with Benedict. Benedict’s middle name is after Nicholas Rokesby, Edmund’s best friend and eventually, Edmund’s brother-in-law. 

Like his brothers, William inherited the Bridgerton chestnut brown hair. He also has the same color eyes as his father, which means that William looks the most like his late paternal grandfather. Of course, that likeness is slightly interrupted by the fact that William wears glasses and has since the age of eleven. He is the tallest of Benedict and Sophie’s three sons, standing at 6’2”. 

William’s godparents are Gregory and Francesca. 

Sophie’s pregnancy with William was the toughest one. She suffered from a more severe morning sickness than with the other three and she was placed on bed rest shortly before William was born. Labor was also the most stressful and she bled more than she had with the other three. Modern ‘verse William was born three weeks prematurely.

At the age of ten, William was involved in a horse riding accident where he fell off the horse and was knocked unconscious. He was trying to keep up with his brothers and older cousins (Edmund, Miles, David, and Oliver) when his horse got spooked and reacted in a way that caused William to fall. At 17 and as the eldest male cousin, Edmund took charge and gave orders to David and Miles while Oliver calmed the horse. In the end, it was Edmund’s quick thinking that meant that William was only minorly injured. He’d badly broken his right arm and both legs and had a concussion, but aside from the occasional word finding difficulty, William had walked away with no permanent injuries or issues.

William had always been the quietest of Benedict and Sophie’s children. This was exacerbated by the accident and occasional word finding difficulties, but it had always been his nature. He didn’t confide his thoughts and feelings to many people. He tended to keep to himself, and unfortunately, William had inherited his father’s tendency to keep things bottled until they blow up.

William keeps a lot of his struggles quiet and to himself. No one knows how much he struggles to find a career that he feels is suitable. The clergy was a no-go, as was the military. He wasn’t as good at math and numbers as Alexander and Charlie. He didn’t have the creativeness or lightheartedness that Violet had. He doesn’t have passions the way some of his cousins do. He was not big on farming or investing. In the end, William ends up as a university professor, teaching French and history. He’s known to be a generous professor and many students try to have him as their tutor. 

In 1848, while shopping for books, William literally ran into Róisín O’Connolly while coming out of a shop. He stopped to help her pick up her packages and finds himself becoming smitten with Róisín and her Irish accent. After that encounter, though, he’s convinced he’ll never see her again. He’s shocked to see Róisín at a parlor, debating fiercely the policies surrounding the current food conditions of the Irish people with a member of the House of Lords. It’s not an easy relationship, what with managing religious differences (he’s Anglican and she’s Catholic). Despite that, William married Róisín in the fall of 1848. He was 26 and she was 24.

William and Róisín have four children together. Their eldest child, a daughter named Johanna Mary “Jo” Bridgerton, was born in 1850. Two years later, in 1852, Clare Sophia Bridgerton was born. Two years after Clare, in 1854, Sarah Róisín Bridgerton was born. Finally, three years later, in 1857, their only son, Patrick William Bridgerton was born. 

In the modern ‘verse, William works as a history teacher, following the footsteps of his parents as Benedict and Sophie both become teachers. He falls in love with journalist Róisín O’Connolly.

𝗩𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗦𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗮 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

Born in 1824, Violet is named after her paternal grandmother and her mother. Sophie originally hadn’t wanted to name her daughter directly after herself, but eventually came around when she met Violet and Benedict insisted that she was a Violet Sophia. 

Violet is the one of her siblings to have inherited Sophie’s hair color. She does not have Sophie’s eye color, though. Instead, she has Benedict’s eye color. Violet is also the child to look the most like Sophie. She has Sophie’s petite frame too, standing at 5’3”. 

Violet’s godparents are Phillip and Daphne. 

Violet is very close to her father. They have a very good and close relationship, partially due to being the only girl and being the only child at home for a few years. Benedict often refers to Violet as his favorite daughter. 

Violet is the most extroverted of the four Benophie kids. She’s still an introvert, but she enjoys being out and about in the social world a lot more than her three brothers do. She loves to chat with cousins and family and friends. However, Violet also tends to be quite guarded around those who are not family, especially after she has six failed courtships. 

Violet enjoys baking. She doesn't want to be responsible for a whole crowd or party, but baking occasionally for her family is very much up to Violet’s enjoyment. It’s a hobby.

Violet is a big animal lover. She’s known to bring all sorts of stray animals home, from those that should be pets to those that really shouldn’t be pets. At age 5, she begs Benedict and Sophie for a puppy, with help from her brothers. They relent and adopt a retriever puppy, the runt of the litter. Violet makes the family house dog people.

Violet took fencing lessons with her brothers, after much pleading. To her great satisfaction, she is the best fencer in the family. She struggles to best Alexander, the next best fencer (and really, that's only by a hair), the most. 

In the 1848 season, Violet declared that it was to be her final season. She was tired of being used by the men of the ton. Luckily, fate was on her side, and Violet met the 22nd marquess of Insley, Jack Fullerton. He’s new to the ton’s world and with a complicated (and scandalous) family history. And there’s just something about being around Jack that leaves Violet feeling content and like letting her guard down. Violet and Jack married in January of 1849. She was twenty-four and he was twenty-six. 

Violet and Jack have four children together. Their eldest, a son named Thomas Benedict Fullerton, was born in late 1849. Two years later in 1851, Henry Jack Fullerton was born. Three years later, in 1854, Josephine Sophia “Josie” Fullerton was born. Four years later, in 1858, their youngest child and son, Lysander William Fullerton, was born.

In the modern ‘verse, recently graduated veterinarian Violet meets Olympic hopeful and ice hockey player, Jack Fullerton, who has recently come into an extremely generous inheritance from an uncle he never knew existed. It’s a bit chaotic and messy and everything, but boy do Jack and Violet love each other. 

Anthony & Kate’s children | Colin & Penelope’s children | Daphne & Simon’s children | Eloise & Phillip’s children | Francesca & Michael’s children | Gregory & Lucy’s children | Hyacinth & Gareth’s children

[silverhallow]

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

No one knowing if Will is telling the truth or saying it to get a reaction and traumatise his parents/siblings

i saw this on tiktok of a family group chat and immediately had to send to someone bc this is SO benedict as a dad 😭 and sophie responding and having his back like that’s his biggest fan 😭

And continuing the chat;

Charlie: 🤢

Charlie: 🤮

Alex: well mum and dad i'm feeling a solid -10 for having to suffer through your lovey-dovey crap in the family gc

Charlie: yeah was there any need to make your children an audience to this???

Charlie: can you not message each other this stuff in private???

Violet: mum, dad, as much as i love you both and as nice as it is to see just how much you still love each other after all this time

Violet: charlie's right, can you not include us in this?

Violet: and as for the check-in - 😕

Will: me, 😜🥴🤪

Will: because i just had my first 👄 🍆 💦

Charlie has removed Will from the chat

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 2: The Masquerade

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer From a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: G Word count: 8.1k Masterpost Previous chapter Next chapter

Author's Notes: THANK YOU for your incredible patience while I took forever to write this next chapter. It's the most daunting one in the whole story for me (and potentially the longest), and my summer has been full of travel and distractions. But I'm committed to keeping this story rolling! I do need to write chapter 3 which should be comparatively short, and then chapters 4-15 are already written and just need tweaking. Expect more frequent installments soon, though I do need a bit of time to focus on a Halloween fic for y'all 😉

As a reminder, text in italics are quotes from AOFAG and are the work of Julia Quinn.

Lastly, if we're manifesting things for Benophie in the show, the song I imagine them waltzing to at the masquerade is the VSQ cover of Young and Beautiful - it's so mysterious and romantic and gives voice to Sophie's anxieties. Enjoy 💙

Sophie was no stranger to courage. It was courage that had bolstered her through her lonely childhood at Penwood Park. Courage that enabled her to face each morning knowing she would most likely be subject to Araminta’s abuse. But what drove her to sneak into the Bridgerton masquerade was something different. Courage was an element of it, but she also had the odd and wonderful sensation that she was somehow destined to attend. A sort of magnetism pulling her back to Genevieve’s shop then down the street to the wisteria-clad manse glowing with candles in every window under a starlit night. 

It had proven surprisingly easy to accomplish her ruse. She had dressed Cressida in her iridescent mermaid costume then helped Araminta into a garish Elizabethan gown. Both of them fussed and snipped at her, demanding assistance and criticizing when it was provided. Lord Cowper kept his ensemble comparatively simple with a black horned mask that Sophie found to be an accurate reflection of his true character. Soon enough all of them bundled into their carriage, leaving her alone for the evening. Sophie knew to make for the modiste’s shop as quickly as she could, and only dithered when it came to selecting the shoes Gen had told her to bring. Neither of her sorry two pairs would suffice for a ball which meant borrowing a pair from her employers. She felt safer using Cressida’s except they all proved too large, to the point Sophie knew she would be tripping over herself. Araminta’s shoes fit comparatively well but her stomach lurched at the thought she may discover they had been taken. She reminded herself that she was the one tasked with cleaning them so she could easily replace them once she returned. Memories of a stinging slap dealt that morning solidified her resolve and she selected a pair of silk slippers in a pale blue-grey with diamond clips that complemented the silver gown she knew was waiting for her.

Wrapped in a cloak, she had scurried to Gen’s door and the proud smile on her friend’s face gave her a burst of excitement for what was to come. The modiste slipped her into the finished gown, somehow impossibly more breathtaking than it had been before. Sophie couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mirrors in the shop, bewitched by how the fabric caught the light. Gen had procured all the trappings, outfitting her with elbow length silk gloves, starry earrings and jewels for her hair which she helped to coif atop her head in an elaborate style. She even swiped rouge on her cheeks and stain on her lips, something Sophie had never tried before, and by the time she was done Sophie didn’t recognize her reflection even before the demi-mask was fitted over her eyes. She was an elegant silver stranger and one who looked every bit deserving of entry to a ball.

With a kiss on the cheek Genevieve sent her out into the night and closed shop to attend a party of her own, the likes of which Sophie could only guess at. Though her heart was pounding as she treaded the cobblestones up to Bridgerton House, she knew it was from excitement as much as nerves, and when she was waved into the main hall without question, it nearly stopped altogether. It was a sight far better than she had imagined. A candlelit scene of ivory grandeur with masked guests milling across the lacquered floor and up the grand staircase, dancers in the center and towers of treats and champagne to each side. It felt as if she had stepped into a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

She was knocked from her reverie by a young lady who appeared at her side, costumed as a Grecian muse. “My, what a beautiful dress!” She commented.

Sophie swallowed, suddenly fearful that her very voice may betray her identity, but instinctively she responded. “Thank you.”

When the girl only smiled and moved away, she breathed a sigh of relief. Who here could possibly recognize her voice aside from the Cowpers? She scanned the room but they were nowhere to be found. The lady who had spoken to her was at a table by the wall selecting a dance card. Not wanting to attract suitors, Sophie moved past the cards and weaved her way toward the nearest refreshments. Her eyes were so fixed on the array of delicacies that she failed to register how many heads turned to watch her.

The tiered display before her boasted a variety of sweets unlike any Sophie had ever seen. Candies and fruits, chocolates and tarts, even ice cream were all for the taking. Until that moment the only treat she had ever eaten was marzipan, a controversial candy that both her father and the Cowpers kept on hand for guests but despised themselves and so were none the wiser when she snuck pieces. Spoiled for choice, she seized a raspberry tart and had to fight from moaning at its rich sweetness. Then she nibbled on a chocolate, then a lemon cake before she stopped herself, realizing it would be unladylike to gorge herself and thereby risk revealing that she did not belong. She switched to a flute of champagne, another luxury she had never sampled before but quite enjoyed, and began to move about the perimeter of the room. 

The sea of costumes was so varied and elaborate, Sophie felt confident she did not stand out too drastically. Among the women there were queens and faeries, flowers and creatures of myth, all hidden behind demi-masks or veils. The gentlemen presented as an array of devils and jesters, satyrs and knights if they weren’t simply wearing their tails and a mask. Sophie listened in on their snippets of conversation. Courtship gossip among the women and business among the men. The young ladies whispered their opinions of the bachelors and the bachelors largely stayed silent unless they were mumbling about retiring to the smoking room. Behind them in the center of the hall were the dancers, swishing over a bee motif painted onto the parquet floor. The song was a sprightly one, spurring couples to hop around their partners while grasping hands and looping arms in a complex sequence. Sophie was transfixed, marveling at how it reminded her of a music box come to life. Everything was a feast for the senses: the twinkle of the candles, the strings of the musicians, the bubbles that tickled her tongue and the silk that wrapped around her skin. This was the life she had read about in Whistledown. This was the life she could have had as her father’s daughter if things were ever so slightly different.

A footman collected her empty glass and she felt herself calming. But that calm was immediately shattered when she noticed not one, not two, but three young gentlemen approaching her from various points in the room. It was then she realized that card or no, they would ask her to dance. It was also when she remembered that she did not know how to dance. And it was then that she began to chastise herself for forgetting this crucial fact before sneaking into a ball. She had been so caught up in the thrill of simply observing the masquerade and so used to being overlooked that she had not contemplated the possibility that a man may ask her to dance. If she attempted to, it would immediately become obvious that she was an imposter. Her mind started to race, eyes pinging between the three admittedly handsome gentlemen who drew closer and closer, looking at her as if she were a piece of meat and they were starving lions. There was nothing for it - she would have to hide. Backing away as gracefully as she could, she scurried around a cluster of guests, lifted two more flutes of champagne and darted down a hall where open french doors promised a swift escape.

---

[Shift to Benedict’s POV as written at the beginning of Chapter 2 of AOFAG. He is begrudgingly attending the masquerade, aggravated that he cannot be distinguished from his brothers. 

…he sometimes wished he were considered a little less a Bridgerton and a little more himself.

Violet asks him to dance with Penelope who is unfortunately dressed as a peacock. On his way, he is cornered by rude debutantes.

“A Bridgerton!...Which are you? No, don’t say. Let me guess. You’re not the viscount, because I just saw him. You must be Number Two or Number Three.”]

Grimacing his way out of yet another insulting and inane conversation, Benedict tucked himself into a corner under the stairs. He should have pushed forward to go humor Penelope Featherington but he had lost sight of her and he didn’t know if he would be able to bite his tongue through one more chance interception by an air-headed debutante or her mama. All of these ladies simpering over a man who they could not name while their mothers’ half-smiles betrayed that they saw him as little more than a consolation prize now that his titled brother was taken. He pitied them, knowing it was what they were all raised to do. But he also pitied himself for being the focus of their attentions. He supposed it was inevitable that he would find himself playing the marriage mart one day and it was precisely as miserable as he had imagined it would be, if not more. But having failed in his pursuit of art, the one thing that had stirred true and enduring passion within him, what else was he supposed to do? Perhaps a wife would make him feel grounded, grant him a new sense of purpose. But none of the young ladies he had met throughout the painfully long London season had been able to produce any feeling in him that was even a fraction of what he felt when he daubed oils on canvas, or sketched a flower, or studied a Turner sky.

With a rueful smirk he wondered if he would fail at becoming a husband too. He hadn’t the merits to get into the Royal Academy without a bribe; perhaps he didn’t have the merits to succeed at the marriage mart either. As eager as the women were to throw themselves at his feet, he didn’t know if he could hide his true feelings well enough to make it to an altar. Feelings of disappointment, lack of inspiration, and invisibility. The dreadful suspicion that he was not destined for the productive life of artistry he had always imagined. He was only a Bridgerton, one of many, and the most he could hope to achieve was some form of domestic happiness, if any woman would tie herself to such an empty shell of a man. 

His stomach sank as he heard his surname giggled in a nearby pack of debutantes. It was all too much, he needed fresh air. As he turned toward the back hall he felt an odd tingling sensation in his limbs and all of his focus seemed to narrow on the french doors. Perhaps he had drunk too much, perhaps it was too hot in the room, but it was not an unpleasant feeling. Rather, it was a feeling of certainty. Certainty that he must go outside and his feet were itching to carry him there. He did not protest and in a moment he was through the doors and in the cool air of the back garden. 

On instinct he walked toward the massive elm tree, planning to rest on the swings hanging from its branches. Scattered torches and a pearlescent full moon helped to illuminate the garden, making it a peaceful respite from the crush of people inside. He assumed he was alone but realized he was mistaken when he rounded the rose bushes and beheld an odd sight. It was a woman standing on the paving stones with her back to him. She was dressed in a silver gown, antiquated in style but made of the most mesmerizing fabric that seemed to absorb the very moonlight and make her glow. Her head was turned toward a large window of the house through which could be seen the dancing couples inside. She was mimicking them, slowly, jerkily, raising her arms and stepping to and fro with an invisible partner, stumbling every few steps and then hissing at herself as she tried to match the movements once again. It was clear she was trying to learn the dance and failing spectacularly.

Benedict couldn’t tear his eyes away. Even without seeing her face he could tell she was a beauty. But more than that, she was the most curious creature he had come across at any event of the ton. So many questions immediately arose. Who was she? How atrocious had her dancing master been? Why wasn’t she chaperoned?  Whatever the story was, he simply had to know it.

He stepped closer and cleared his throat, hoping not to frighten her.

“Are you in need of a partner?”

“Oh!” Instantly she whipped around and nearly jumped a foot in the air. 

Benedict’s breath caught in his throat. He had been right about her beauty, it was evident even behind her demi-mask. But it wasn’t simply the trappings of her stunning gown, glimmering jewelry or scarlet lips. It was innate, some kind of light that animated her from within. It called to him like a lighthouse across a stormy sea and he was transfixed. He had never experienced such a powerful sensation upon first seeing a woman. Sophie stuttered, embarrassed to have been discovered tromping around in the garden and nervous that her behavior was about to reveal her as a trespasser. The fact that her inquisitor was tall, dark and handsome was also causing her mind to stall. She offered a meager explanation. “I…I am not familiar with this step, so I was…trying to learn.”

Her voice was the sweetest music Benedict had ever heard. It made him feel weightless, electrified. Akin to how his favorite landscapes left him gaping in awe, but even more visceral. He realized he was staring at her, agog, and snapped himself back to attention. “And you did not want to ask any of the gentlemen inside to teach you?”

“I didn’t want to seem silly. Though I suppose, I have already failed at that.” She dropped her eyes and blushed and Benedict felt heat surge through his own skin at seeing its beautiful hue. What was it about her that made him falter when every other young lady made him want to run? Who on earth was she?

“I don’t recognize you. The same array of people always come to these parties.”

“Ah, then my disguise is working well.” She arched a brow with a mischievous little grin. 

Benedict felt his stomach flip with delight. “What is your name?”

Sophie prickled. She would need to be crafty with her answers to maintain her anonymity. The consequences of being discovered were dire, but perhaps that was what gave it an undeniably exciting edge. She had learned to hide herself in plain sight with the Cowpers. Surely this wouldn't be much harder. “Is a degree of mystery not the purpose of a masquerade?”

His lopsided smile set her at ease. He wouldn’t interrogate her; he was amiable.

“Very true. So you are going to make me guess?”

“I think it would be a fruitless endeavor.”

Benedict marveled at the beautiful stranger as the intrigue grew deeper. She was the first debutante who had reacted to him with anything other than fawning desperation. She was playful. She was a breath of fresh air.

He stepped closer, folding his arms as he looked her up and down. “Well, you have already given me a significant clue. A young lady in society who does not know the quadrille. That is unique indeed.” She straightened her mask and he noticed her unadorned wrist. “And no dance card. You are truly committed to remaining as anonymous as possible.”

“All in the spirit of the event.” She turned quickly and walked to a nearby table where two flutes of champagne sat unattended. She drank down the remnants of one a bit too eagerly, betraying her nerves.

“Is someone joining you?” Benedict wondered if he had interrupted the flirtations of another suitor. If so, the man was a fool to take his eyes off such a creature for even a moment.

Sophie followed his gaze to the second glass and felt herself flush at being caught indulging so brazenly. She picked it up and carried it back to him. Now that he knew she could not dance, she could relax and enjoy his conversation at least.

“You have joined me, Mister…?”

He accepted the glass and huffed a laugh. “Oh come now, my disguise is not nearly as good as yours. You don’t have to be so coy.”

The woman continued to stare at him blankly and the puzzle of her grew infinitely more bewildering. Could it be possible that she truly did not recognize him? Even if this was her first event among the ton, she could not have failed to hear his name on every other woman’s lips as they chased him through the ballroom. Nor could she be so ignorant about her hosts. They were at his bloody house after all.

His brow knitted in disbelief. “You truly do not know who I am?”

“There you are!” A voice called out suddenly.

Sophie’s stomach lurched into her throat. She’d been found out. She’d be thrown into the street, and tomorrow probably into jail for stealing Araminta’s shoes, and–

A second man marched around the rose bushes also in tails and a black demi-mask, shorter and broader than the first but also remarkably handsome. He stomped up to confront the other.

“Mother has been looking all over for you. You weaseled out of your dance with Penelope and I had to take your place.”

The taller man smirked. “And did that put you out terribly, brother?”

Sophie looked from one man to the other. Even under their demi-masks, the familial relationship was more than obvious, and she realized in a blinding flash that they must be the famed and coveted Bridgerton brothers. But which brother was her visitor? Benedict. He had to be Benedict. She sent a silent thank you to Lady Whistledown, who’d once written a column completely devoted to the task of telling the Bridgerton siblings apart. Benedict, she recalled, had been singled out as the tallest. Sophie began to assess him anew, the most eligible bachelor in the ton. Remembering that Gen had shared a dalliance with him, she could understand the appeal.

“It was better than any of the alternatives, I must say,” The man who must have been Colin Bridgerton shrugged. “If you flee the party and leave me to that pack of she-devil debutantes, I swear I shall exact revenge to my dying day.”

Benedict laughed and Colin turned to Sophie with a start, realizing that they were not alone. “Oh pardon, present company excluded. I apologize, Miss.”

He bowed politely and she returned her best curtsy.

“No offense taken, sir.”

The annoyance melted out of his eyes - a captivating shade of blue - and his voice grew silky as he stepped toward her. “Might I request an introduction?”

“I doubt you’ll meet with success.” Benedict snickered. “I would like one as well but the lady is committed to the spirit of the event and will not share her name.”

Colin frowned at her playfully. “Not even a false one?”

Sophie grinned, enjoying their little game. She had never received so much attention from any member of the upper class, much less two suave and flirtatious bachelors. It made her bold. “If you really insist, I suppose I could tell you something.”

“But not the truth?” Benedict asked.

“This isn’t a night for truth.”

Colin leaned in with a devilish smirk. “My favorite kind of night.”

Benedict rolled his eyes and tugged his brother upright. “Shouldn’t you be with Penelope?” 

At this, the younger grew flustered. “I…well…”

“It would be the honorable thing to do, making sure the young lady is asked to more than just one dance this evening.” At the end of his argument Benedict folded his bottom lip into an exaggerated pout and Sophie felt her insides flutter.

Colin seemed possessed by a new sense of chivalry. “Very well, I’ll take my leave. And fight back through the pack of ravenous wolves…”

“Wolves?” Sophie laughed, turning to Benedict. “Is that what drove you out of doors as well, sir?”

“I suspect it is.” Colin grinned and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Our mother would like nothing better than to see this one married off.”

“Brother…” Benedict’s grip tightened around the champagne flute.

“Would you take pity on the poor, long-suffering woman and chase him up the aisle?” Colin shot a wink at Sophie.

“Have you been at the tea again?” Benedict grumbled under his breath, staring daggers.

Sophie couldn’t remember being so entertained before. “I believe I shall have to get to know him better first, and take the full measure of his character before any chasing shall commence.”

Her co-conspirator released a loud sigh. “Then alas, I fear he may be found wanting and remain a bachelor forever.”

“Are you quite finished?” Benedict snipped.

Sensing the end of his patience, Colin slapped him on the back and desisted. “I am.” He turned to Sophie with a beaming smile and bowed once more. “Enjoy your evening.” Then he was gone as quickly as he had appeared, leaving them alone in the garden.

Sophie allowed a giggle to escape. “It is charming to see two brothers who get on so well.”

Benedict took a large swig of champagne. “You’d call that getting on?”

“I would.” Sophie smiled softly. “I have no siblings myself but it’s clear the jesting stems from a place of love.” Indeed, Sophie felt herself surrounded by love at this house. A love of family and community that she had always longed for but always been denied. It was bittersweet to be wrapped in it, knowing it would only last for one evening.

He quirked a brow. “Another clue. She has no siblings.”

“That cannot be that rare.” Sophie spluttered, chastising herself for her misstep.

“It certainly narrows the options.”

“Well, it is the last thing I shall share about my identity.” She set her chin defiantly and Benedict found it to be quite the most adorable expression. Now he was determined to know everything about her, however long he had to play her game.

He stepped toward her again, lowering his voice. “Why so many secrets?”

“I told you, this entire night is meant for secrets. Though I believe I have uncovered yours.” Sophie said with an enigmatic smile, truly warming to her role as a mysterious stranger. 

“Oh yes?”

“I know who you are.”

Benedict shrugged. “I assumed as much.”

“I didn’t at first,” she confessed.

“What gave me away?”  With no discernable parents shoving her in his direction, Benedict wondered how she had deduced it.

Sophie grinned, victorious. “The fact that you are here with your brother. That you look so alike. And are both being hounded by the young ladies.”

“We look alike even with masks on?” 

“Even with masks,” she nodded. “Lady Whistledown writes about the Bridgerton brothers quite often, and she never passes up an opportunity to comment upon how alike you look.”

Ah, she was a Whistledown reader, though that didn’t help him parse her identity among the young ladies of the ton. He had never read the scandal sheet himself but was unsurprised that it contained discussions of the Bridgerton resemblance. He had heard it all his life, how similar he was to his two eldest brothers. The three of them were often called by the others’ names, even by their own mother on occasion, with everyone typically defaulting to assuming they were all Anthony, the Viscount. He and Colin had used it to their advantage from time to time, wielding perceived status to get preferential treatment or making handshake deals to embroil Anthony in some ludicrous business venture. He of course could see the clear distinctions between each of them but it seemed society could not. If anything, he knew he most closely resembled his late father and it caused the greatest pain when someone slipped and called Benedict by his name. It was all something he had learned to live with. He loved his family dearly but his visibility as a Bridgerton often made him feel invisible as Benedict.

He steeled himself to be wounded again by this lady in silver. “And do you know which brother I am?”

“Benedict,” she smiled brightly. His heart skipped hearing his name on her lips. In the soft glow she cast, he finally felt seen. “If indeed Lady Whistledown is correct when she says that you are the tallest among your brothers.”

He swallowed to try and hide his excitement. “You’re quite the detective.”

She shrugged. “I merely read a gossip sheet. It makes me no different from the rest of the people here.”

He wanted to chuckle at how she voiced his precise thoughts aloud. Perhaps she was an enchantress with the power to read minds. Whoever she was, dream or reality, he needed to know more. Downing the rest of his champagne, he set the glass aside and moved closer, trying to study the contours of her face and color of her eyes behind her mask.

“And if Lady Whistledown were here and saw you tonight, would she know your identity?”

The woman backed away, playfully but pointedly drifting across the grass toward the elm tree. “I’m so well disguised that no one would recognize me right now.”

He continued his pursuit. “What if you removed your mask? Would she recognize you then?”

“I’m not going to answer that.” She walked backward slowly, always staying paces ahead of him. 

He returned her wry smile. “I didn’t think you would, but I had to ask nonetheless. Dare I ask what else you know about me from Whistledown?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

Sophie’s nerves were running haywire at being chased with such evident intent by a gentleman. And not just any gentleman, but Benedict Bridgerton himself. She had never planned to flirt nor attract the attention of gentlemen at the ball. She had only wanted to observe it, to soak in the atmosphere, to forget the life of Sophie Beckett for a few hours. But now the most coveted man in the ton - a man far more charming and beautiful than she had presumed - was stalking toward her with hungry eyes. She should have been terrified at being discovered or even compromised, but she wasn’t. She was enjoying this. Perhaps she could blame the champagne for the heated, buzzing feeling throughout her body but whatever it was, it left her heady with confidence and craving more.

Something bumped into the back of her legs and she turned to see that she was standing by a pair of swings hanging from the branches of the looming tree above. He had her cornered. But he was nothing but a gentleman as he held the swing steady and gestured for her to sit. With the volume of her skirt she could do little but perch on the seat and hold onto the ropes to keep her balance. He lowered himself onto the swing next to hers and rocked lightly to and fro with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

“If I cannot know anything about you, at least I might know what you know about me.”

Sophie pondered a moment. Her immediate thoughts were what Genevieve had shared. That he was sensitive, talented and good. But of course she could not reveal that she had learned such things. She had to rely on what had been reported in Whistledown, which had conveniently been confirmed by Colin. “Your name has not been seriously linked with any young lady, and your mother despairs of ever seeing you married.”

The way his shoulders slumped banished her assumption that he simply didn’t want to end a rakish bachelor lifestyle. The burden to marry weighed on him more heavily for some reason.

“The pressure has lessened a bit now that my brother’s gone and gotten himself a wife,” he explained.

“The Viscount?”

“Mmmm,” he nodded. “And anyway, I’m sure at some point I’ll find the lady suitable enough to keep my house and bear my children.” He kicked at the grass, dispirited.

“Among the ravenous wolves?” Sophie chuckled, trying to brighten the mood and coax the truth out of him. “It sounds as if that traditional sort of life would be unappealing to you.”

Benedict shook himself out of his ruminations and sat up straight. He felt so at ease with this mysterious guest that he had let the mask of debonair suitor slip. He must be cautious in revealing his true feelings especially if he hoped to secure her hand, the only one that was making the prospect of marriage seem in any way appealing. He spluttered, “Well…I only…”

She cut him off. “Do not worry about offending me, Mr. Bridgerton. I am not here to find a husband and I’d much rather have your honesty than your flattery.”

Who on earth was this miraculous woman? A young lady who was not scheming for a proposal but rather seeking to know him better. The first and only he had encountered in the marriage mart. He felt as if he had discovered a unicorn and effortlessly opened his heart to her. 

“I suppose there are other pursuits in life that interest me. To travel the Continent and see the artworks of the great masters. To seek out beauty in all its forms and capture it. To do something worthwhile with myself, have an occupation. Shocking as that may be, I feel that I would find it fulfilling.”

While his desires may have confused many of her peers, the lady in silver only smiled. “I think it’s admirable for anyone to hold an occupation. It shows a great deal of character, not to mention independence. And in this independent life of yours, there would be no room for a wife?”

“I didn’t say that,” he clarified. “I have never disdained romance, as it appears you do. If you’re not here to find a husband, then what are you here for?”

“To enjoy myself.”

“Simple enough,” he smirked.

“Yes,” she sighed. “If only I knew how to dance.” The pointed challenge in her eyes lit a spark within him. She was a smart little thing, a force to be reckoned with. He would not shy away. He bounced to his feet and stood before her.

“I would teach you gladly but be forewarned, I will teach you badly. I never took to it.”

Sophie laughed. “Have you two left feet, Mr. Bridgerton?”

“Why do you think I find myself still unmarried?”

“Surely your dancing skills cannot be that atrocious. Could it be you have some nefarious personality traits that are driving the women away?”

Benedict sniggered. “Hmmmm. Perhaps I am too rakish. Too predisposed to indulgences.”

“Does that not describe just about every gentleman in the ton?”

“Are you saying that I’m indistinguishable?” His lip folded into a hilarious pout again. 

Sophie was enjoying their sparring immensely. “I’m saying it must truly be your dancing that is to blame.”

Then he bent and extended his hand. “Let me show you and you can judge for yourself.”  

She rose with a rustle of silver skirts and allowed Benedict to guide her back across the lawn to the paving stones, the two of them walking in comfortable silence. She felt like a princess - a reckless princess - and so when he asked her to dance, she put her hand in his. And even though she knew that this entire evening was a lie, that she was a nobleman’s bastard and a countess’s maid, that her dress was borrowed and her shoes practically stolen - none of that seemed to matter as their fingers entwined. For this moment, at least, Sophie could pretend that this gentleman could be her gentleman. It was nothing but a dream, but it had been so terribly long since she’d let herself dream.

Standing across from the house window once more, they turned to face each other. Sophie swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how tall and how close he was. The moonlight shone behind him, cutting a striking silhouette with glinting pale blue eyes set behind his black mask. Never releasing her hand, he guided it into place.

“Put your hand here on my shoulder. Just a touch lower, there you are.”

Then his hands moved, one to her waist and one to extend their arms to the side. Sophie couldn’t help but shudder at the expanse of his grasp. 

Benedict dropped his voice, instructing gently. “Now, listen to the music. Do you feel it rising and falling?”

Drifting out from the house Sophie could hear the musicians’ strings playing something light and hopeful. She concentrated and began to sense its rhythmic pattern.

“I feel it.”

Benedict smiled. “Good. Now watch my feet and let me lead you. One, two, three; one, two, three.”

As if on queue Sophie stumbled after just a moment, tripping over Benedict’s feet. “Oh! I’m sorry!” 

His hold tightened around her to keep her from falling but he couldn’t help bursting into laughter. “See? I am an awful teacher. Perhaps you should return to watching the dancers inside. What are they doing now?”

Sophie couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her own face, realizing she had never met such a good humored man. A nobleman who didn’t scold her for a misstep and even blamed himself instead. He was so playful, so easy to talk to. Despite the outrageous risk she was taking with this entire evening, she had never been more comfortable around a member of the gentry. She turned to peer into the ballroom and watched the flurry of dancing couples moving around one another. Their hands and arms entwined in a series of looping motions, palms meeting to raise over their heads before sliding back down to wrap around the ladies’ shoulders. 

Knowing they were entirely unsuited to the task and giggling at each other with mischief in their eyes, she and Benedict attempted to mimic - or rather mock - the dancers inside. They grasped at each other’s elbows and wrists, fumbling to change holds and laughing as they found themselves tied in ridiculous knots and unable to glide into the next motion. Benedict pranced like a peacock and overexaggerated a deep bend of the knee as the men inside artfully swept a leg behind themselves. Next, the ladies twirled, grasping the mens’ hands and floating in a circle to revolve around their backs. Benedict extended his hand with a flourish, Sophie took it and then began skipping like a child around him, skirts bunched in her fist. They were laughing so much she was sure the champagne was to blame, which was practically confirmed when she rounded Benedict’s other side and promptly tripped on her dress, pitching to the ground.

But he caught her, swiftly and easily moving to cradle her in his arms. Their laughter died away as they gazed at one another, catching their breath. For the first time Benedict was close enough to determine the color of her eyes - they were green. A deep emerald green that sparkled as richly as her silver costume. He was nearly overcome with their light and the feeling of how perfectly she fit in his arms. Barely keeping his wits about him, he lifted her gently back to her feet.

“Lord, I never expected to find the one person worse at dancing than me,” he chuckled, trying to tame the maelstrom of emotions swirling within.

The woman returned a shaky smile. “Well I hope it serves as a boost to your confidence.”

The tremor in her voice gave him a glint of hope. Could she be feeling the same way he did? Did she too sense an overwhelming connection between them? Something he was ready to label as destiny. She hadn’t spurned any of his advances. No indeed she had flirted back at him, toying and challenging, matching his wits and his energy. She was not eager to marry him for his family or position, she was able to pick him out among his brothers and she supported his dream to do more with his life than simply wile away in domesticity. She made him laugh, she made him feel alive, she made him feel visible. Everything he had been searching for and had abandoned hope of ever finding, all embodied by a nameless lady in silver who had appeared in his garden like a gift from the heavens. She was a star, and he wanted to pick her up and hang her in his sky to guide him. 

He stepped close and wrapped an arm around her waist, just wanting to hold her again. “Shall we try again? In earnest?”

Sophie was transfixed, something blooming inside her chest from the moment he caught her. This already exceptional night had taken so many unexpected turns. She had never expected to speak at length with any attendee of the ball, much less the most prized bachelor in society. And she certainly never expected a private audience with him for the whole evening, nor the feelings it would stir within her. So quickly he had banished her assumptions of what such a man would be like. He was nowhere near as snobbish as she imagined he had a right to be, nor was he the dour figure she had supposed when Gen told her he probably disdained attention. He was passionate, animated, with a comic disposition and a large heart. He disdained attention because he wanted more and felt out of place - feelings she could relate to very well indeed. He was good-natured, forgiving, gentle. And as if that weren’t enough, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen despite that she could only view half of his face beneath his mask. Though she knew the Bridgerton siblings were famed for their looks and she had only seen one brother to compare him to, she knew that Benedict would always have drawn her eye above all. 

She was in danger of losing her heart to him. She feared it may have already happened. But there was no happy ending to this story. She could not reveal herself nor enjoy his company for any longer than this one night. But with his arm around her and his blue eyes holding hers so warmly, she could not bring herself to care. The musicians inside were playing a new song, something resonant and soulful, full of longing and magic. She would fit an entire lifetime into this night.

“Alright, one last go.” Bringing one hand to his shoulder and lacing the other with his, she took her position and stared down at their feet again.

“Look up,” Benedict encouraged.

She shook her head. “I will stumble.”

“You won’t. I won’t let you. Look into my eyes.”

She followed his soft command and raised her eyes to meet his. Mesmerized, she couldn’t look away. She could barely breathe. She was dimly aware that they were moving, that he was guiding her through a waltz slowly and fluidly. Suddenly their feet knew precisely how to carry them. Benedict never blinked, determined never to let this silver blessing out of his sight or his arms until she understood how she had enchanted him. Everything around them was bathed in moonlight, making her shimmer like a precious jewel in his hands. 

“What do you feel?”

“Everything,” she breathed.

“What do you hear?”

“The music. I hear the music as I’ve never heard it before.” She moved light on her feet, the romantic call of the strings making it seem as if she were floating across the paving stones.

Benedict’s heart was pounding, desperate for her answer to his next question. “What do you see?”

Sophie froze, paralyzed by the impossibility of putting it into words. As their steps gently stopped and they stood inches apart, everything about him was thrown into sharp focus. She saw everything she had never dared to hope for. A man who showed interest, a man who was kind, a man who could free her from her miserable life. If only she was not who she was. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and the air grew thick and hot. This was desire, Sophie realized. This was what she’d heard fellow maids whispering about. This was what no gently bred lady was even supposed to know about. But she was no gently bred lady, she thought defiantly. She was a bastard, a nobleman’s by-blow. She was not a member of the ton and never would be. Did she really have to abide by their rules? 

As Benedict’s lips parted and his head lowered toward her, she knew he was moving to kiss her and she would allow it. She craved it. It was enough to ruin a reputation, but what sort of reputation did she have to begin with? She was outside society and she wanted one night of fantasy. One kiss to savor for the rest of her pitiful existence.

Their breaths gusted across each other’s skin, lips barely an inch apart. Sophie was certain her heart was thundering loud enough that he may hear it. The music swelled. She closed her eyes. Then she felt his long, slender fingers cup her face and begin to slip under the ribbon tying her mask. 

Alarm bells sounded in her mind and she lurched backward, bringing a hand to press her mask firmly to her face. She could not be discovered. Despite how everything in her body was crying out for him, she would not allow it. In the commotion a lock of her hair fell loose and dangled over her shoulder. After securing her mask she began trying to pin her hair back in place, fingers slipping in her silk gloves.

Benedict stood befuddled, watching her fumble with her gloves and hairpins. She was truly committed to not revealing her identity. A thought flashed through his mind that perhaps she was hiding some kind of deformity. At this point, he did not care. It would not make him feel anything less toward her and he was determined to woo her.

“Blasted things…” Sophie cursed under her breath as her hair continued to slip out of her grasp.

“Allow me.” Benedict reached forward and softly took her wrist, slowly sliding the glove down from her elbow to pull it off. Sophie stood trembling as he kept her hand in his and brushed his thumb across her knuckles, their skin meeting for the first time. Then he bent, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he pressed a deep, warm kiss to the back of her hand. Her breath hitched, feeling an electric current spider out from his lips across every inch of her skin. This was already a bold move but he took it even further, turning her hand over and lavishing her palm with another sensuous kiss - making his intentions clear without a single word.

“Who are you?” Benedict rasped. “I have to know.”

“I can’t say.” Sophie felt torn in two - her heart and body tugging her forward into his arms while her mind and reason held her back.

Benedict felt the heat rising under his collar. He didn’t want to learn her name simply to beat her at her game. He wanted it so that he could know who had stolen his heart so quickly and completely. So that he could keep her in his life and sing her praises. He would not end the evening without making his feelings known.

He gripped her hand tighter, pressing in close, his voice urgent. “I want to see you tomorrow. I want to call on you and meet your parents. Do you understand what I’m saying? I need to know you. I want…”

“Don’t say anything more! Please. Not another word.” Sophie cut him off, tears pricking at her eyes. This was all a mistake, a dreadful mistake. She never should have remained in the garden with Benedict, should never have flirted with him, should never have let it go this far.

“Then tell me your name,” he pleaded desperately. “Tell me how to find you tomorrow.”

The sobs were rising from her throat, anguished at how much pain she was causing them both. At how unfair it all was. “I…”

Her voice was drowned out by a booming clang from within Bridgerton House, followed by the guests inside erupting into cheers and laughter. 

“What is that?”

“Midnight. Time for the unmasking.” Benedict explained, turning to her with hopeful eyes.

“Unmasking?” Sophie’s mind whirred, horrified. No one had ever mentioned an unmasking. It wasn’t reported in Whistledown and Gen hadn’t warned her. Perhaps it was something that everyone of good breeding inherently knew about a masquerade. Clearly she was not one of them. She had been so wrong to attempt this, so ill-prepared for what would happen. Now she would be out of place for not revealing herself.

As she panicked over what to do, Benedict pulled off his own mask and her crisis deepened. He was beautiful. Impossibly more beautiful now that she could see the boyish mirth in his face, the inquisitive slant of his brow, the way his crystal blue eyes were framed by the most endearing creases, evidencing a lifetime of smiles.

Benedict’s hope deflated as the woman stared at him, stock-still. “Are you alright?”

“I have to go,” she choked, barely audible. Then she gathered her skirts in her hands, turned and fled into the house.

“Wait!” Benedict leapt after her, feeling like a man possessed. He could not lose her, the only woman who had stirred him to the depths of his soul. The only one who he could be prevailed upon to marry. She held his future. She held his heart. He couldn’t let them vanish. 

He tore back through the house, catching glimpses of her silver form sweeping around each corner. She was remarkably fast. He burst into the ballroom and had to scan to find her among the riot of costumes and noise. The candlelight glinted off her dress as she pushed steadily through the crowd, already halfway to the door, and he dove in after her. He abandoned any care of being polite and began shouldering his way past guests, even knocking into his brother Anthony who promptly began to admonish him but Benedict pressed on, deaf to anything but the chanting in his mind. No, no, no. He could not lose her.

Sophie dipped and sashayed around the crush of partygoers, moving as quickly as she could for the exit but not wanting to cause a scene. The genteel crowd proved their manners by parting easily as she passed. She cast glances back over her shoulder, seeing Benedict trying to catch up with her but people were less inclined to clear the way for a man. Her heart was in her throat, unsure if she could escape without being caught by Benedict or the Cowpers or anyone else who found her behavior curious. The large front doors were in sight and she turned one final time to see Benedict’s path blocked suddenly by a severe looking woman with a scarlet costume and a cane. She would make it. 

Barely maintaining composure, she slowed her pace as she approached the doors and nodded politely to the footmen who opened them and ushered her out into the cool night. She scurried down the stairs, mask still on her face as she began to soak it with tears. Confused and frantic, she gave over to her instincts which were drawing her away from Grosvenor Square and back to the modiste shop. Though she knew it was her only course of action and she knew she had let the entire evening get out of hand, she couldn’t help but feel fractures splintering her heart with each hurried footfall on the cobblestones.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @yellowprimrose @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale

[redpensandgreenarrows]

Not going anon because I’m just sending love! 😘

Earlier, I had a discussion that there very subtle hints besides the obvious with Benophie. Benedict wore green a few times during the season. First is an emerald green during the whole “don’t look at me” part. The next is a lighter green when he was sketching and called Eloise out about her perception of Gen, and throughout he is wearing a dark greenish-blue shade, as if it’s mixed together. Reason why I said that it’s because green is Sophie’s favorite color. 😉

Hi!! Thank you so much <3. Right back at you!! I didn't even notice that, but I wouldn't put it passed the creators. I've seen other posts that talk about colors in relation to other characters/relationships. That's so cool! I'll have to pay closer attention when I do another rewatch :-).

Thanks for sharing!

[mskatesharma]

I will say in regards to the fairy godmother convo is that the reason the fandom brings it up is because the actress Kathryn often likes comments about her being Sophie's god mother or playing a role in the benophie romance in season 3. I totally understand if that doesn't change that anons mind and it will totally depend who is cast as Sophie and how they write her relationship with Genevieve etc. So yeah Kathryn being publicly supportive of it is probably why the fandom has latched onto the idea. But I also really hope Genevieve still gets her own storyline too 🤞

(Related to asks these asks: 1, 2)

Yeah, I couldn't remember if Kathryn had talked about it herself and didn't want to mention it in case I was mistaken, but I think this is where the idea originally came from? Was it on instagram that she mentioned it? I think Kathryn does seem keen to play a part in the Benophie story, but it doesn't necessarily mean just because the actor would like to see it happen, that it erases the ways that it could be problematic? Again, if it does happen, like you said, it will depend on who they cast as Sophie, and how they have them interact with Genevieve, and the type of relationship they have? I guess in part it will also depend on what happens between Gen and Ben next season as well? It's just another case of optics, and I hope that they're going to take that into account.

Yeah, I think Genevieve could get her own storyline, maybe in season 3? Who knows, maybe even next season? Who knows though what's really going to happen next season outside of Anthony and Kate?

[silverhallow]

Every Breath You Take

Violet Bridgerton II x Edward Becker (OC) Love Story

Chapter 2: Hope to Hopeless

FOUR YEARS LATER

April 1842

The summer of 1838 had lived long in Edward’s memory, everytime he had stopped at My Cottage in the intervening four years he had longed for another glimpse of Violet, to be introduced to her formally, but he had been unsuccessful.

She had started spending more time at Romney Hall, the Parsonage or even in London with the Viscount and Viscountess so he had not had the pleasure of meeting her but following their brief meeting, he found it easier to speak to Will about his sister.

When she wrote to him at Eton, Edward had started asking what Violet was up to, asking more questions and enquiring into his best friends sister and thankfully William had not really thought that his friend was harbouring a crush on his sister, or at least he had managed to hide it until Edward had asked when his sister was planning on debuting in Society.

“Why are you asking? Are… are you interested in my sister?” William had asked, his brow raised in an amusing joke figuring it was just a joke as he looked at his best friend over his music sheets. Edward had come to visit him at his lodgings at the Royal Academy of Music and William had been packing his things for the end of term and relocating to Bridgerton House where he would be watching his sister’s season unfold.

He had witnessed Charlotte’s debut and season alongside Edward, watching Edmund and Miles attempt to scare off any suitors and there was no way he was going to miss Charlie and Alex attempting to meddle in his sister’s debut season.

He had suspected that Edward had been disappointed last season but he had not realised it was because Violet had not debuted at 17 as was the norm but William had explained their father had had a meltdown at the thought of his daughter debuting and because Charlotte had waited until she was 18, though it had been so she and Violet could have debuted together.

His father and Uncle had put their foot down and said Violet could debut when she was 18 as was the Bridgerton custom so Violet was forced to wait and therefore Edward had to wait.

“I was merely curious” he lied but he felt his cheeks burning giving him away and he saw William’s face light up

“You are interested in Vivi!!” he practically yelled, his voice full of glee and joy as he lowered the music in his hands and burst out laughing.

“It’s not a laughing matter,” Edward said grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was merely curious as to if she was going to be debuting as I’d like to get to know her more…” he said. It was mostly true. He did want to get to know her better but he did have an ulterior motive, he might only be 20 but his father was close to his 60’s now and he knew it would not be long before his father would either arrange a marriage for him with some horrific woman or would die and leave the title to him and expectations would be on him to marry and he’d have every society mama throwing their daughter at him much like his sister’s had to bare a few years earlier when it was their debuts.

If he could get to know Violet, court her, he could marry her before his father had a chance to either die or marry him off… She was his choice and he had been flawed by her beauty at 14 and seeing her miniatures that William carried that had been painted by her father, he knew without a doubt there would be a queue of men lining up around the ton to have her hand and he wanted to get in there first.

William snorted “Ed, i’ve known you for nearly 10 years, you are a diabolical card player because you cannot lie… I know your “tell”, so be honest with me… and i’ll help you”

“You will?” he asked, blinking in shock, he’d expected to get the stuffing punched out of him as it was almost like an unwritten commandment “thy shalt not covet thy best friends baby sister”

“Well, Charlie and Alex’s friends are all foozlers and imbeciles so there is no way I want Vivi marrying one of them… so if she can marry my best friend, then I can rub it in my brother’s face that I have the better friends and I know you’d never actually do anything to hurt her and if you did i know i’d beat you in a fight” William laughed.

“You wouldn’t” Edward grumbled

“Unless it was a fencing match then i’d agree with you but boxing is not your strong point” William pointed out

“It is not yours either”

“No but I am better at it than you and Charlie is built like my Uncle Phil so even if i didn’t… Charlie would murder you… and Alex would kick your arse and get away with it as he is friends with the Prince Consort”

Edward sighed “very well, you are right there. And yes, I may harbour a small affection for your sister and have done for some time. I wish to try and find a wife before my father tries to pair me off with one of his boorish friend’s daughter’s…” he had to pause and chuckle as William shuddered at the thought on his behalf.

“Not the smythe-smith girls”

“Or worse… he knows the Finch’s through a business connection and threatened their daughter’s on me when I was younger so I'd not put it past him to do it now” he said with a shudder.

“Well when we get to London i am sure I can throw in a good word for you with her” William said honestly “I know my father and brother’s aren’t keen on Vivi making her debut and Charlie and Alex were planning to be basically her guards but I’m sure the have learned from Neddy’s mistakes with Lottie last year…”

Edward shuddered “I heard about that, she was rather furious with her brother”

“I’ve never seen her like that, even after David and Alex accidentally set fire to her favourite doll…” William sighed “but back to my point if you want me to speak to her for you..”

“No, don’t say anything to her please, i’m not sure how it would come across having you basically selling me to your sister. I’d rather try my luck first, but if you could introduce us that would be…” Edward said but he was cut off by a knock at the door.

“Yes?” William said to his door and the doorman to the lodgings appeared 

“Beggin’ your pardon Master Bridgerton but there was a messenger here looking for the Viscount, it was urgent and he’s waiting for a reply” he said holding out a note and Edward looked confused as he looked down at it, his sister’s scrawl on the front of the letter.

He had only popped over to William’s lodgings for a few hours and he’d planned to return to Somerhouse, so he didn’t see how anything could be that urgent but as he opened the letter his heart sunk.

Becker House Somerset

Edward, I am sorry to write to you in such haste and interrupt your plans for the season but we need you to return to Somerset with all haste. Your Mama has taken poorly and is confined to her bed and the doctors are telling us the prognosis is not good. Please hurry and return home. Your sister is close to being confined to her rooms with the baby so she cannot do too much and I worry about them.  Your Father has disappeared into his rooms and Louisa is in America and I’ve sent a letter but it will be at least two months before she will return and I know it will give your mother great comfort and Jane will need all the help she can get with the babe and your mother. I’ve requested the messenger wait for a reply so I can request the servants sort things for your return. Your sincere friend and brother in law, The Honourable  George Spencer 

Edward’s heart stopped as he read the words, his mother, the paper fell from his hands as the colour drained from his face, “good god Ed what is wrong?” William asked, worry etched all over his face as he picked up the letter and read it quickly and swore which caused Edward to jump and remember what he had read,

“I’ve got to go” he said, looking haunted

“I’ll come with you” William said but Edward protested  “no, i’ll come to Somerhouse with you, make sure you’re okay and I can write to George so you can pack and be on the road quicker”

Edward nodded, knowing it was fruitless to argue but as he climbed into the carriage three hours later, heading out of London and heading home, he was grateful for his friend’s help but he couldn’t help but be afraid for two reasons, was he going to lose his mother, or missing his chance with Violet…

He had to hope no one swooped in and stole her heart before he had a chance to meet her, and he had to hope his friend kept his word and not say a thing to his sister…

But as the darkness fell around the carriage, he felt like hope was nothing but a heartache waiting to happen…

[silverhallow]

How would the family react if Violet Jr came home from a promenade sobbing?

How would her mother comfort her?

How would they discover what happened and what to do next

Benedict and the three boys would be ready to kill someone. No questions asked they just need a name. No one makes vivi cry and gets away with it…

Sophie would just shoo her boys away and take Vivi into her private drawing room, lock the door and proceed to just hug her daughter until she’s ready to tell her what happened.

Vivi would never be one to keep secrets from her mother and eventually once she calms down explains what made her cry in the first place and how some of the girls were making mean comments about her, her mother and family and how Edward would never want to really court a person with such a dodgy background.

And Sophie just hugs her daughter again and assures her that the other girls are just jealous that she’s captured the attention of the catch of the season and that Edward Becker is fond of her.

Sophie reaches out to his sisters and has a quiet word with William about it since it’s his best friend and he goes reluctantly to talk to him to ensure that it’s straightened out and and it’s at the next Ball when the mean girls made to eat their words when Edward dances ONLY with Violet and is overheard by them saying he’s going to marry her one day.

[silverhallow]

What middle name do each of Benophie’s children have on your opinion?

So for the most part it varies from AU to AU but Canon wise I tend to go with

Charles Benedict Bridgerton

Alexander Anthony Bridgerton

William Edmund Bridgerton

Violet Katherine Bridgerton

this is going off Book canon, not show canon just FYI

[silverhallow]

William, Alex and Charles Bridgerton captured by their mother in a rare moment they weren’t fighting.

[silverhallow]

WIP Wednesday but on a Thursday

Thanks @sophiebernadotte for the tag

A little extract from Violet and Edward’s next chapter

When she wrote to him at Eton, Edward had started asking what Violet was up to, asking more questions and enquiring into his best friends sister and thankfully William had not really thought that his friend was harbouring a crush on his sister, or at least he had managed to hide it until Edward had asked when his sister was planning on debuting in Society.

“Why are you asking? Are… are you interested in my sister?” William had asked, his brow raised in an amusing joke figuring it was just a joke as he looked at his best friend over his music sheets. Edward had come to visit him at his lodgings at the Royal Academy of Music and William had been packing his things for the end of term and relocating to Bridgerton House where he would be watching his sister’s season unfold.

[silverhallow]

Violet Katherine Bridgerton

Nicknames: Vivi, Princess (Ben), Mini Mama, Vicious Vi, Petal (Edward)

Profession: Vet. She knew from the age of 4 she wanted to be a Vet after she found her first stray Cat that was injured, then followed it with a hedgehog, a bird… you get the picture.

Hobbies: baking, photography (something she adores doing with her Papa), kick-boxing. This came around after she was fed up of people teasing her for her small size, she learned boxing and kick boxing and after she completed KO’d a sixth former after he was teasing her and pushing her about, she got the nickname Vicious Vi from her younger cousins who had witnessed it.

Vivi is the apple of her daddy’s eye and is very much Sophie in miniature.

She’s insanely protective of her cousins and family. The three younger Crane’s especially.

Vivi is closest to Penny and Lottie who are either side of her in age, on Penny’s 18th birthday Lottie and Vivi took her away for the weekend just the three of them in a log cabin…

Vivi came back with a goat, much to Benedict’s amusement.

Vivi learns to make cheese from the goat when she’s healed and supplies it to William and Lottie’s restraint.

The day Will hurt his leg; Vivi was the one that he called knowing she would keep him calmest at the hospital and it was here she met her future Husband, Edward Becker who is Will’s best friend.

She smacks him in the face with the door and breaks his nose in her rush to find her brother.

[silverhallow]

Just out of curiosity…

If I was to write a next gen drabble for one of the Benophie babies whose story would people wanna see?

I know I asked ages ago but my muse fucked off but she’s sniffing the air at the moment so something could happen…

You can see the boys love story synopsis here and Vivi’s here

[silverhallow]

William Henry Bridgerton

Nicknames: Will, Dick (Alex thinking he’s clever), Thing 2 (after him and Lottie dress up as Thing 1 and 2 for Halloween when he’s 10 and it just stuck)

Profession: chef. He played rugby alongside his culinary school but a nasty injury to his ACL curbed that dream and he decides to open his own Restaurant called “Things” which he does so with Lottie and Alex helps design it

Hobbies: he loves rugby still but can’t play as often. He loves creating new recipes from scratch. Alex, Neddy, David, Oli ans his Uncle Colin are his Guinea pigs.

William is the child that is the blend of both of his parents.

He has his Mama’s temperament and his fathers creative flair but it’s in his food. He cannot draw for toffee…

As a child he was very clingy and reserved, always the smallest until he turned 15 and he had a growth spurt and ended up taller than his father.

He got into a fight as this growth spurt stated after he saw someone bullying his cousin and sister and when he got laughed at for trying to stop the fight and he punched Thomas Cavender in the face and knocked him out.

It’s the only time he ever got detention and his parents rewarded him with a new phone for it.

He was 12 when he started playing rugby at the suggestion of his Uncle Anthony, thinking his nephew had the right temperament for a fly half.

He was devastated when the injury to his ACL happened in his first ever England game, he’d played amateur whilst training to be a chef but a Ill timed tackle ended his career and it was Lottie and Vivi who suggested the restaurant.

Things is a fusion restaurant with Indian and European Fusion using both of their mother’s heritages as inspiration and they win the first of their three Michelin Stars with a year of opening.

[silverhallow]

Alexander Anthony Bridgerton

Nicknames: Alex, troublemaker, Al, Double A (Miles once said he was like a Duracell bunny and someone called him a double A battery like his name and he rather liked it so it stuck)

Profession: architectural designer

Hobbies: fencing, golf, baking, polo… much to the amusement of his family

As a child Alex was always hyperactive, he was the troublemaker and learned to walk quicker than the rest of his siblings.

He out of all the Bridgerton’s is the most like his father in looks. Complete Mama’s boy and he adores his grandmother.

He’s so much like his father that if you looked at photos of Benedict at Alex’s age, they’re identical.

Alex is the only one of the siblings who smokes, he got his arse kicked from his father when he caught him giving 14 year old Vivi a cigarette.

Much to the amusement of everyone, Alex finds order and calm in his art and his work. Architecture and design brings him peace and it calms him.

He mastered the “posh boy” sports as his friends tease him but he finds peace in them.

Baking is his stress coping mechanism, the one thing he inherited from his mother… his baking can put hers to shame and when it comes to making pastries… he is the maestro. During exam season, he would stress bake and then sell his goods to his cousins, fellow students and brothers…

He’d never charge vivi… he’d send some home via next day delivery for her so she got them fresh and always included extras for his mum.

[silverhallow]

Charles Richard Bridgerton

Nickname: Charlie, Warlie (from vivi only) and Professor Snooze (Alex is the only one who calls hkm this)

Profession: biomedical student; wants to use plants and herbs along side traditional medicine. His PhD is inspired by his Uncle Phillip.

Hobbies: growing and collecting weird and wonderful plants, Yoga (has his own Yoga Instagram account where he posts his work outs and tips… Alex teases him for this)

Charlie is the quietest of the four Benophie Babies and as he was poorly as a child (as in nearly died poorly) he decided at a young age to dedicate his life to science.

His body is a temple… though he has a weak spot for his mother, brother and sister’s baking… and has a wicked coffee addiction to rival his mother’s… which William finds hilarious.

He is the shortest of the three boys and has hazel eyes.

His Uncle Phillip is his favourite Uncle and Kate is his favourite Aunt.

On his 19th birthday he gets a Clematis 'Sophie' plant tattoo’d on his rib cage, designed by Alex, on his rib cage.

His cousin Caroline is the one who tattoos it on him, giving away her chosen profession…