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Sophie was trying very hard not to fidget. Moving while the modiste pinned the fabric you were wearing usually resulted in unnecessary pricks. However, when one was not used to such attentions, or having to deal with overly excited soon-to-be sisters-in-law, or coming to terms with the fact that they would be married in 5 days, it was a lot to take in. The feeling of panic churned heavily in her stomach.
Whenever they finished here, Sophie would be the owner of a wedding dress, multiple days dress, a few gowns for special occasions, outerwear, nightwear, and lingerie. The list made her feel dizzy. All of this was to be completed before her honeymoon, or sooner if a dress was needed before then. Sophie swallowed thickly thinking about the small fortune the Bridgerton’s were most likely spending on her. Yet every time she attempted to protest Violet dismissed her worries, and assured Sophie there was nothing to feel guilty about.
Even Madame Delacroix seemed nonplussed. There was brief mention that she would need to hire a few extra seamstresses, but Madame Delacroix was happy to accommodate her most loyal clients. Thus, Sophie stood atop the pedestal at the back of the modiste’s as her mother-in-law observed and her future sisters debated fabrics for her other garments in the front room. Sophie desperately needed a distraction, so she turned her thoughts to her fiancé.
Ever since she “accidentally” spent the night at Benedict’s lodgings after being released from jail, Violet Bridgerton emphatically insisted that Sophie remain at Number 5 Bruton Street until the pair were married. When she and Benedict arrived for breakfast the following morning, she could see the emotions warring in Violet as she scolded an unabashed Benedict. Violet was ecstatic that her son had fallen in love, but tempting fate when their love story already bordered on scandal was just too risky. If he wanted to see her prior to the wedding, he would need to call on her here, with Violet as their chaperone.
Benedict grumbled, but he knew not to fight an argument he had already lost. Especially as Violet proceeded to guess correctly that the couple sought a special license to get married. Although he wore that infamous half-cocked grin of his, Benedict still had the decency to blush; Sophie was absolutely mortified. Benedict attempted to reason that this was no different than Anthony or Daphne, but Violet still struck him with a look. She turned to Sophie with a smile and grabbed both her hands. “If you haven’t learned this already, my children will most likely send me to an early grave. But we love each other very much. Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Yet, his mother’s warnings didn’t stop Benedict from finding ways to bend the rules. The first night she slept at Number 5, Sophie nearly had a heart attack when the bedroom window opened, and Benedict climbed in. Her room was on the second floor. Scolding him fiercely in hushed tones, Sophie denounced his risky behavior, and nearly frightening her to death. But Benedict simply let her vent as he undressed and slipped beneath the covers.
Kissing her sweetly on the nose, he pulled her close. “Anthony and I were climbing trees most of our childhood, and I’ll be gone before the maids come to rouse you in the morning.” And that was that.
Sophie sighed, “My life with you shall never dull.”
“Not if I can help it.”
As the dim light of the morning crested the windowsill, Sophie woke briefly and was sure she heard the scratch of charcoal on paper before falling asleep once more.
Sophie smiled at the memory.
“Merde.”
The murmured curse broke Sophie from her thoughts, and she glanced down at Madame Delacroix.
“I must apologize Lady Bridgerton, Ms. Beckett, I appear to have used up the pins I have on hand. If you will excuse me for but a moment, I will go get some more.”
“Of course,” Violet assured her, and Sophie nodded with a smile.
Turning back to the mirror as Madame Delacroix left the room, Sophie recalled the sound of Benedict sketching and it sparked an idea in her mind.
“V-Violet?” Using her mother-in-law’s given name still felt alien to Sophie’s tongue.
“Yes, dear?”
“Are you familiar with Lord Granville?”
“Henry Granville, the artist?” Violet clarified; her confusion written plainly on her face.
“Yes.”
“Yes, I am familiar. I commissioned him for the portraits of my children, and both Anthony and Daphne acquired his talents after their marriages. Are you looking to get a head start and set up an appointment with him once you and Benedict return from your honeymoon?”
“Actually,” Sophie bit at her bottom lip, “I have an idea for a wedding gift for Benedict, and I think Lord Granville might be able to help. Would we have time to stop by and speak with him?”
Violet Bridgerton was still utterly confused, but willing to help her future daughter-in-law with whatever she wanted. “Of course, my dear. We should have time once we’re finished here.”
~*~
Violet informed the others of the slight change in plans before they headed back to Number 5. So, Daphne and Kate continued on with some shopping of their own as Violet and Sophie walked the short distance to the Granville residence. Once they arrived, Violet knocked on the door, and the pair only waited a moment before it opened. Answered by the man they were looking for, Henry Granville’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized the caller. The ladies gave a small curtsey.
“Lord Granville, good afternoon,” Violet said with a smile.
“Lady Bridgerton, I was not expecting your visit. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yes, I apologize. This was a rather spontaneous decision; however, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law,” Violet gestured to Sophie, “wished to speak with you. Would it be possible to take up a moment of your time?”
Lord Granville’s eyes squinted, ever so slightly, attempting to place the woman standing next to Lady Bridgerton. She looked familiar, but he was sure that he had never seen her before. “Of course, let us speak in my study.” Opening the door wider, he stepped to the side and held out his arm in invitation.
Settling inside his study, Lord Granville leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his desk, “So, how can I be of help?”
“Lord Granville,” Sophie began, “I very much appreciate you speaking with us on such short notice. My name is Sophie Beckett; Benedict Bridgerton is my fiancé.”
“Ah,” Henry nodded, now he realized why she seemed so familiar. “Yes, Benedict has spoken of you quite often the days he’s visited the studio. It is an honor to finally meet you.”
Dipping her head slightly, Sophie blushed with a smile on her face. Between her and Benedict, it was sometimes hard to determine who was more head-over-heels about the other. Violet, on the other hand, snapped her head towards Mr. Granville, shocked to hear her son and the artist were so well acquainted.
“The honor is mine, Lord Granville,” Sophie continued, “Benedict’s talent for putting charcoal to paper is a sight to behold, and I know your tutelage has helped his confidence and skill.”
Lord Granville merely offered a small smile and nod of his head in acknowledgement.
“As his wife, I only wish to encourage his abilities. I believe Benedict will create amazing works of art, and I wish to acquire a wedding gift for him with that in mind. However, the knowledge of all the implements used, let alone where to procure them are well beyond me. That’s where I’m hoping you can help.”
“Certainly, there is a shop in town where I purchase and order my supplies. If you have about an hour or so tomorrow, I could help you on your endeavor.”
Excited, Sophie turned toward Violet, hoping she would know of some free time in their schedule.
“Well… um…” Violet became flustered when she realized the attention turned to her. “I believe we have some time after breakfast tomorrow, if that is suitable for you, Mr. Granville.”
After finalizing the details of their meeting tomorrow, Henry escorted the ladies to the door and bid them a lovely afternoon. Lost in their own thoughts, they began walking towards the market to join Kate and Daphne, when Violet turned to Sophie and broke the silence.
“So… Benedict is truly fond of drawing and painting?”
“Oh, yes!” Sophie stated enthusiastically. “His sketches are beautiful! I’m not sure if he’s done any painting, but I have no doubt he has the talent for it.” Glancing towards Violet, Sophie noticed the look of pain and heartache written on her face. The look of a mother that believes she failed her son in not knowing about something so important to him.
Reaching out, Sophie grabbed her mother-in-law’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “That being said, I only know about his passion for art because I accidentally stumbled upon his sketch book when he was sick. If I never found it, I doubt he would have told me about it. Benedict is very much the perfectionist and doubts his abilities often. My guess is that he believes hiding his interests is easier than finding out that his family thinks them silly or embarrassing.”
“We would nev–!”
“Of course!” Sophie stopped Violet’s protestations. “Of course, none of you would have mocked, or made fun of him. But we are speaking of Benedict; he normally keeps more to himself, does he not?”
“Yes,” Violet sighed with a nod, but still felt pained.
“I would have faith. I don’t think Benedict intends to keep this to himself forever; he just wants to do it in his own time.”
Violet gave her a grateful smile and squeezed her hand in return. “Thank you, my dear. Let’s find the others and head home.”
~*~
Anthony and Benedict were spending some time with their younger siblings, and Anthony’s children in the sitting room when the ladies returned from their morning excursions. Daphne departed from the group at Number 5, returning to her own London residence to spend the evening with her husband, but promised they would see them all tomorrow. As soon as Benedict heard the women enter, he sprang from seat and met them at the door. He immediately went to his fiancée, pulled her close, and gave her a peck on the lips.
“And how has your morning been, my love?”
“Long,” Sophie sighed, and melted in his arms. “But very productive. I enjoyed spending time with your mother, Daphne, and Kate. However, I think I’ve been pricked and prodded more times today than I have been in my entire life.”
“Mmm… And did any of that prodding involve a dress made of white silk, or lace, perhaps?” Benedict murmured as he pulled her even closer, his signature crooked smile teasing her.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Slowly toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck, Sophie slipped her bottom lip between her teeth and tormented her fiancé right back.
“Benedict,” Violet interrupted the embracing couple, “will you be joining us for dinner?”
“If you have the room for me, I would love to.”
“There is always room for you,” she scolded. “I’ll inform Wickham, so he can let the cooks know. And don’t you dare start interrogating poor Sophie about her wedding dress. You are not to know anything until you see her walking down the aisle.”
Rolling his eyes, Benedict smiled at Sophie’s giggle, and he placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her into the sitting room where the rest of the family was waiting. Dinner was the usual raucous and joyous occasion it became when a good number of the Bridgerton clan were present. Sometimes the chaotic nature of it all still shocked Sophie, but with each passing day she felt more and more a part of this family. However, the frivolity seemed to pass too quickly, and Benedict and Sophie were saying goodnight to each before he left for the evening.
Violet watched the pair as they shared a private moment at the base of the stairs. Their speech was low and muted, but the loving smiles and the intimacy in their closeness spoke volumes. They bid each other a final farewell with a soft, lingering kiss, and Benedict watched Sophie ascend the stairs towards the room she was currently staying in. When he turned to leave Number 5, Violet called out to her son.
“Mother! Apologies, I did not see you there.”
“No, I dare say you wouldn’t have noticed the house crumbing around you.”
Benedict blushed.
“Darling,” Violet cupped his cheek, “it fills my heart with such joy to see you so in love. And being able to spend these past few days getting to know Sophie more has been wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever met two people more suited for each other. She loves you fiercely, I hope you know that.”
“I do. I fear I suffer the same affliction.”
Mother and son shared a smile.
“I’m so happy for you, Benedict. Even though you’ll be moving far away.”
Benedict sighed in an exaggerated manner. “A trip to My Cottage is no further than visiting Simon and Daphne at Clyvedon Castle. You will still see us often enough.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Violet’s forehead. “I will see you tomorrow. In the afternoon, seeing as you’re stealing my fiancée for the morning once again.”
“You’re the one who needed me to plan a wedding in less than 5 days.” Violet gave her son a look that dared him to challenge her.
He answered with a cheeky grin. Leaving his mother standing there shaking her head, Benedict headed in the direction of his personal lodgings before slipping around the back of Number 5 and making a beeline for the tree below Sophie’s window.
~*~
After breakfast the following morning, Violet and Sophie set off for the shops once again, this time to meet up with Lord Granville. When they arrived at the store, Mr. Granville was already waiting for them outside. The trio shared a warm greeting before he escorted the ladies inside. A small chime above the door sounded as it opened.
“Lord Granville!” the proprietor called out when he recognized who had entered. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today, but your order from Italy arrived.”
“Excellent. I’ll take care if it before I leave; I need to assist these ladies first.”
With a nod, the gentleman waved them off and continued helping the costumer at the counter.
“Where would you like to begin?” Henry asked, turning back to Sophie.
Unsure, she stumbled with her words for a moment. “Umm… Uh… Whatever is needed for sketching, I suppose.”
Nodding Henry gestured to one end of the shop and led the pair in that direction. Along the way, Sophie’s eye devoured the tools and implements used in the creation of all manner of art. Curiosities raced through her mind, but she didn’t voice them out loud. Halfway down the aisle, Sophie stopped and moved towards the table beside her to closer inspect the items that caught her attention. When he realized he was no longer being followed, Henry backtracked and made his way to Sophie’s side.
“Were you interested in purchasing some paints for Benedict as well?” Henry asked as he observed Sophie’s right hand holding a watercolor palette, while her left inspected a set of oils.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know if he’s even interested in painting, to be honest. But maybe.”
“He’s experimented with oils a few times at the studio. However, his attempts mostly ended in frustration. I’m sure you’ve noticed Benedict’s reaction when something doesn’t go perfectly the first time.”
Sophie shared a laugh with Lord Granville. She was becoming acquainted with Benedict’s tenacity and how it could blind him from the progress he was making.
“Well what marriage is without its struggles. What do you recommend?” she asked excitedly.
For the next hour or so Lord Granville walked both women around the shop, showing Sophie different types of brushes and what techniques they would be used for, explaining ways to manipulate oils to get different effects, and how different types of charcoal were used in particular instances. He patiently answered any question she had, and while most of it still mystified Sophie, she felt closer to Benedict after spending this time with Lord Granville. Violet stayed mostly silent throughout their shopping, still stunned that her son had such talents she knew nothing about.
As Sophie purchased the items she chose for Benedict’s gift, Violet sidled up next to Henry and spoke with him in a low tone.
“How long has Benedict been studying with you, Lord Granville?”
Henry paused and pondered a moment. “It has been a few years now. I think he started coming to my studio not long before the Duke and Duchess of Hastings were married. Lady Danbury introduced us during the gallery viewing at Somerset House. Mr. Bridgerton inadvertently insulted one of my paintings in front of me without knowing who I was.”
Violet laughed. “Yes, that very much sounds like something Lady Danbury would be involved in.”
“She has quite the mischievous streak, doesn’t she?” Henry stated with a smirk of his own.
“And what of my son’s artistic abilities? Does he have the talent?”
“Oh yes! Benedict has a wonderful gift, and I believe if he branches out into painting or even watercolor – especially with the encouragement from his wife,” Henry nodded in Sophie’s direction, “I would make a sizable bet that his art could be good enough for the National Gallery.”
Violet’s eyes widened. “How wonderful,” she said in utter shock, “Hopefully I’ll be able to appreciate some of his work soon.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” Henry smiled.
With the sale now complete, the trio left the shop and prepared to go their separate ways.
“Lord Granville, I can’t thank you enough for your assistance today,” Sophie said gratefully.
“It was no problem at all; I was happy to help. I just hope I didn’t bore you with all of my explanations.”
“Not at all! I found it fascinating,” she reassured him.
“Lord Granville,” Violet jumped in, “with the celerity of my son and Ms. Beckett’s wedding, the attendees will be strictly family and Lady Danbury has been invited as well. While this is a rather informal invitation, I think Benedict would agree with me that you and your wife should be among the honored few. And I doubt Sophie would have any objections.”
“Oh no!” Sophie immediately assured, “We would love to have you there.”
“No apologies necessary for the informality, Lady Bridgerton; Lucy and I would be honored.”
~*~
The night before the wedding Violet hosted a grand dinner for Benedict and Sophie at Number 5. All the Bridgertons, their spouses and children, and Posy were in attendance; the house was practically bursting with people. Sophie felt overwhelmed at times, but nothing could wipe the smile from her face. This was what a family looked like. What she dreamed of when her father brought home a new wife and stepsisters. But now her dream was real, and it was big, and loud, and full of love and happiness. It was perfect.
As the hour grew late, and everyone started making moves to retire for the evening, Sophie pulled Violet to the side and asked if she could have a moment with Benedict before he left to give him his gift. With her blessing, Sophie found Benedict chatting with his brothers and Simon in the foyer.
Linking her arm through his, she interrupted the group. “Apologies gentleman, but I need to borrow my fiancé for a moment.”
An uproar of whistles and catcalls from the Bridgerton brothers followed Sophie and Benedict as she pulled him towards the stars.
“You have 10 minutes before I send up your brothers to collect you, Benedict Bridgerton. Do I make myself clear?” Violet called out as they reached the second floor. Neither responded.
Once they reached Sophie’s room, she pulled Benedict inside and shut the door quietly.
“10 minutes isn’t a lot of time, but I can work with it,” Benedict said enticingly, while he attempted to warp his arms around Sophie and pull her close.
“Oh no!” Sophie placed both hands on his chest and pushed him back. “There will be none of that. I brought you up here for a specific reason.”
Benedict just stared at her blankly. “And that reason wasn’t…”
“No. That’s tomorrow night, dear,” she informed him with a teasing, flirtatious smile. Moving to the other side of the room, Sophie pulled open her wardrobe and removed a wooden box, the size of a small trunk, from the bottom of it. She placed the box on the bed and turned back to Benedict. “I wanted to give you your wedding gift.”
Still confused, Benedict moved to stand beside her and stared down at the box. There was no decoration to it, though it glistened with a lacer coating. A wooden handle sat on top, and a wrought iron clasp kept the lid securely closed. It was simple, unremarkable, and Benedict didn’t know what to make of it.
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
Benedict reached forward to unlock the box, and cautiously lifted the lid. It took him a moment, but slowly his eyes grew wide when he realized what he was seeing. Handfuls of new charcoal sticks rested in a tray across from a kneaded eraser, tortillon, and a bottle of fixative. Removing that tray, he found another with a variety of brand-new brushes for painting, a bottle of turpentine, and one of linseed oil. Below the second tray an array of tubes filled with different colored oils sat waiting to be used. Finally, in a thin pocket along the back of the box, a blank sketch book and an artist’s palette were placed.
“Sophie…” Benedict said softly. “This is… I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you like it?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Like it? This is amazing!” Turning to face her, Benedict kissed Sophie thoroughly, and pulled her into a crushing hug. “It is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received.”
They stayed embraced for a moment before pulling back with bright smiles.
“Oils?” Benedict broke the silence, raising his eyebrow.
Sophie answered with a short laugh. “I don’t want to force your hand, but I think if you gave it a try your paintings would be as wonderful as your sketches. Plus, Lord Grandville said you had been experimenting at the studio. Consider this a small push to continue.”
“Lord Granville?” Benedict asked incredulously.
“Of course! Who else do you think could help me put that together?” Sophie gestured to the box with her chin. “I asked your mother to introduce us after our visit to the modiste, and the following day he helped me purchase the items for your gift.”
There was a pause before Benedict asked in a small voice, “My mother knows?”
“Yes, she does. However, she is aware that you wish to share your art when you are ready,” Sophie reassured him. “She did seem eager to see your work, though.”
Benedict visibly swallowed but didn’t reply. Realizing that he needed time to process, Sophie pulled him close once more, and kissed the side of his neck. Benedict responded by wrapping her tightly in his arms and burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. The woman in his arms brought him such solace, and tomorrow she would legally be his wife. He was by far the luckiest man in the world.
“So, you like your present?”
His chuckle reverberated through her body. “I love it. But not as much as I love you, Sophie Bridgerton.”
Tears pricked her eyes as he used the name that would officially be hers tomorrow. Holding him even tighter, Sophie mirrored his position. “And I love you, Benedict Bridgerton.”
Anthony and Colin opened the door to Sophie’s room as slowly and quietly as possible, fully prepared to catch their brother and his betrothed in a compromising position. However, what greeted them on the other side of the door was the pair locked in loving embrace as Sophie’s fingers gently carded through Benedict’s hair. Any witty comments they had died on their lips.
“Apologies, you two, but it’s time to leave,” Anthony interrupted.
Separating, they still only had eyes for each other until Benedict turned and packed up his new artist box. With the box in his one hand, he cupped Sophie’s cheek with the other and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
“I will see you tomorrow, my love.”
Sophie smiled. “I’ll be the one in white.”
Benedict paused. “So, the dress is white.”
Rolling her eyes, she pushed him away with a smile. “Go! Enjoy the evening with your brothers.”
The brothers laughed. “Don’t worry, dear sister,” Colin chimed in. “We’ll make sure that he shows up tomorrow.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Colin Bridgerton, or it won’t just be your mother that you have to worry about.”
Chuckling, Benedict cupped Sophie’s face one more time. “As if anything could stop me from being at that church tomorrow. A jail cell couldn’t keep me away, darling.”
Sophie hummed and smiled into the final kiss he placed on her lips. With that, Benedict and his brothers swept from the room; the soft click of the door closing brought an end to another hectic day. Looking towards the bed, a small part of Sophie felt sad that Benedict wouldn’t be sneaking in to spend the night, but he promised he would honor the tradition of spending the night before the wedding separately. She wasn’t particularly superstitious, but it felt like something they should respect. The nerves, the worry, the excitement, they each needed to experience these emotions individually, until that moment she walked down the aisle and they said, “I do.”
As Sophie situated herself beneath the covers, she rolled onto her side and faced the side of the bed Benedict claimed the nights he stayed. Her hand caressed his pillow, and a smile came to her face. Tonight was the last night where the invisible daughter lived a life of pain and solitude. Tomorrow she gained a husband, a family, a future. No longer adrift, Sophie melted into the bed beneath her, and wished for the sun to rise.