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“How does a lady come to be with child?”
Sophie blinked twice. Eloise Bridgerton had barged in her small bedroom she used since she had been hired as a maid by Lady Bridgerton, but it was no the sudden intrusion that had astonished her. Sure, the lady was very curious for her age but Sophie had clearly not foreseen a question of this nature. Eloise had never displayed an interest for men, less for children.
“Miss Eloise, I don’t think you should be here,” she said, avoiding the topic of conversation introduced by the young Bridgerton.
But Eloise wouldn’t hear any of it as sat on the small bed, her arms crossed against her chest. Sophie realized she looked at lot like Benedict sitting like that. They shared the same expression when completely absorbed in their thoughts. Sophie dismissed the thought as she cleared her throat. Eloise looked up. “Oh apologies, come sit with me.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow, but joined the woman anyway. Eloise had never looked so agitated.
“I’ve been investigating on this matter for two full seasons. No one would answer me. Not even my own sister. Daphne ought to know, after giving birth like plenty of times already.”
Sophie gave Eloise a sad smile. She truly felt bad for her. Her siblings probably meant well, but Sophie believed it was in the women’s interests to have of a glimpse of their fates explained properly to them. “Go ahead,” she said to the young woman.
“Penelope told me what happened to the lady in question had been the result of love.”
Sophie did need to ask for more information about the lady in question. Her name was Marina Thompson. Lady Whistledown had not missed an opportunity to make this story very public. Now, the girl was living to the countryside, her reputation ruined by the scandal. Sophie shuddered at the thought. For all she knew, she could share the same fate as Marina. Benedict had not missed an opportunity to remind her the previous one as she grabbed her dress from his hand. Sophie winced at the memory.
“But I don’t think it is possible,” Eloise went on with her theory. “I mean, Benedict loves your company and yet, you’re not with child.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. Very poor choice of example. Especially after yesterday night, where she had willingly given herself to Benedict. “I don’t think your brother loves my company. He acted out of kindness, like a gentleman.”
Eloise was too busy with her issue to reply something and Sophie was glad for it. “I’ve tried with anyone. You’re my only hope. So do tell me, Sophie—how did she come to be with child if she wasn’t married?”
Heat reddened Sophie’s cheeks, the memories of the night shared with Benedict surfacing immediately. He had been gentle with her, touching her in so many places. He had worshipped every parcel of her body and Sophie couldn’t help but be jealous of his future wife. It was his own fault. His caresses had made her awfully greedy. But Sophie would have to be content with one single night, and while she had told Benedict it would be enough, she knew it would never be the case. She didn’t need one night with Benedict. She needed every single of his nights.
“Transformation,” she said, bitterness in her voice.
Eloise remained mute, pondering Sophie’s answer for a few seconds. “Transformation,” she said with a flat tone. Knowing the girl wouldn’t be satisfied by her answer, Sophie went on. “Let’s say the lady undergoes a physical transformation, with the help of the gentleman of course.”
“This is all extremely vague,” Eloise pointed out.
Sophie glared at the little Bridgerton. “I’m as clueless as you are, Eloise.” It was a lie, but there was no way she would comment on the details of her relationship with Benedict to his younger sister. And if she had been honest with herself, what happened between her and Benedict had not been only physical. She had felt the connection between them pulsing in every fibre of her body. And she knew he had felt it too. But he wouldn’t marry her. She was a maid and a bastard, and he would never marry a maid, nor a bastard. Sophie sighed.
Silence filled the room for a while, but Sophie knew better – Eloise was probably fuming with tons of questions in her head, and Sophie braced herself for what was to come.
“I wonder if it is quite painful.”
“No,” Sophie answered a bit too quickly. “At least, I don’t think it does. If it is done by a proper gentleman, it won’t.”
“So Penelope was wrong all along,” Eloise told as if poor Penelope had deceived her. “Love has nothing to do with it.”
Sophie shook her head. “Miss Featherington was right. Love has everything to do with it.” At least, in most cases. In her case, love had little to do with it. Benedict had probably his eyes set on a noblewoman, while she had foolishly been in love with him for the past two years. But while was her heart was aching, she wouldn’t break Eloise’s. If there was one Bridgerton worthy of love, it was the fifth born of the family.
Eloise glanced at her, now complete at loss with this new piece of information. “I suppose I would have to ask more people, then.” She stood up, and Sophie followed her until the door. “Thank you anyway, Sophie.”
Sophie nodded and closed the door once Eloise was out of her sight. Exhaling, she turned and grabbed her hairbrush. Hyacinth was probably waiting for her and she was far from being ready.
A knock on the door interrupted her again. Rolling her eyes, Sophie went for the door, ready to shout at Eloise to go elsewhere for her answers. But as she opened it, she did not find Eloise standing on her threshold. She did, however, find Benedict.
“I see. Bridgertons do really have no sense of privacy,” she muttered under her breath.
“Good day to you too, Sophie.”
“It’s Miss Beckett for you, Mr Bridgerton.”
He winked at her as he stepped in her room, invading her space on purpose. “After last night, I don’t think so, Sophie.”
His eyes trailed on the bed and he looked back at her, desire in his eyes. She gulped down as warmth took over her body. She wouldn’t give in his demand, however tempting it had been. “If I recall correctly, this is a room for a maid. I believe your family is having breakfast downstairs.”
He adjusted his vest in front of the small mirror hanging on the wall. “I came to see if you’ve decided to be reasonable this time.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“I can be quite convincing,” he replied, his eyes staring at her mouth. He was insufferable. “But before moving to this very important subject, you were suggesting I was not your first visitor this morning.”
“Indeed,” she said. “Eloise just came to ask me about procreation.” She had casually emphasized the last word, but the effect was immediate. Benedict looked at her, pale as a linen sheet. Sophie bit her lips from giggling. He had acted in the most wicked way the previous night, but his baby sister talking about marital relations could have killed him on the spot.
“Do not tell me she is…”
“No! Far from it, believe me. She is merely curious.”
Benedict exhaled in relief, now struggling with his tie. Sophie did not think twice and reached for him, tying it properly. Once finished with the work, she tried to step back but he clasped his hands upon hers. “Do share with me.”
Looking away, Sophie repeated Eloise’s question out loud, not without some difficulty – their proximity was intoxicating and her dress seemed suddenly tighter than usual.
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that.”
“And what was your answer?”
Sophie wanted to hide, completely mortified. He truly loved unnerving her. One of his hand pulled her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Transformation,” she muttered. He frowned, not understanding what she meant. “I’ve told her the lady undergoes some physical transformation, explaining her state.”
Benedict threw his head back, laughing and she felt ridiculous once again. She nudged him in the elbow, but he wouldn’t stop. He then kissed her forehead. “I presume you would consider the previous night...very transformative for you, then.”
She gaped and seized the opportunity, whispering to her ear, “You know, I could give you an another proper demonstration. I wouldn’t want my sister to be misinformed.”
“Benedict!” she shrieked as she tried to free herself from his embrace. But he was stronger than her and the arm that had found mysteriously its way around her waist tightened around. They stayed like for a few minutes, in complete silence. Benedict looked more serious than ever, as if he was savouring each second she was spending his arms.
At some point, he dropped his hands and went for the door. A hand on the door handle, he took a last look in her direction, his charming smile back on his face. “As far as we are concerned, I believe there will a lot...transformative nights in the future, Sophie.”
“I don’t think so, Benedict.” She pushed him and shut the door abruptly. As she reached for her hairbrush, still blushing, she prayed that none of the others Bridgerton would show up for the rest of the day.
***
A few weeks later, Sophie Beckett became a Bridgerton.
And for the sake of science, Benedict happily obliged to transform his wife in every single way.