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Sophie Bridgerton had never seen quite so many boxes and trunks, so much lace, so much pink and white and champagne as was scattered around in the explosion that was her daughter’s bedroom.
“Violet!” She called out in disapproval as she inched forward into the room; careful not to step on anything. “This is not what I meant when I asked you to start packing! In fact, this is the opposite.”
She sighed kneeled on the carpeted floor. Sophie knew it was no use to continue calling out for her daughter. She didn’t even know if she was home. More likely than not she was running about London with her cousins. But someone had to right the mess she’d made and in lieu of calling a maid and because she truly had nothing better to do, Sophie decided to pack Violet’s belongings herself.
They’d been in London months now, Violet had debuted and been presented and Sophie felt as if they hadn’t had the time to as much as breathe since they arrived to that townhouse they letted in Mayfair. It was constant balls and dinners and luncheons and calls to make and dress fittings to attend. Finally, just as Sophie felt like she was getting into the swing of things, it was over; and all that remained was a hunting trip at Aubrey Hall. And Violet’s first season would be behind them. Sophie reached for the white feathers Violet had worn in her hair the day she was presented and smiled, stroking them. Violet resembled her mother so much, it was difficult for Sophie not to think back to her own life when she’d been Violet’s age; when she’d watched from the staircase in a maid’s garb as her step-sisters went off in beautiful dresses to mingle with society.
“What’s got you looking so serious?”
Sophie startled, and then looked up to where her husband leaned casually against the doorway, lopsided smile on his face. Years on, he never lost the ability to coax a smile out of her with his own, or the ability to sneak up on her.
“It seems your daughter’s trunks have exploded and she’s nowhere to be found. We leave tomorrow, you know.”
Benedict walked further into the room. “Why is she always my daughter when she vexes you?”
“Because she must get it from you.”
“Very well, I shall help you then.” He lowered himself to the ground with a dramatic groan. “Though we could just call for a maid. My knees are not what they used to be, you know.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “You are not so very old.”
“I’m a little old.”
“Only a little,” Sophie teased and regarded her husband. The years had been kind to him. His dark hair had a smattering of grey but his features remained handsome and familiar; especially his eyes that still danced with that knowing, teasing glint Sophie loved so much. There were more lines at the corners of them now, but there had always been; a sign of a life with smiles and laughter and joy.
“So the first season is behind us,” Benedict declared as he passed Sophie a pair of shoes.
“So it is,” Sophie replied with a little sigh. She reached for a discarded dress and folded it, then hugged it to her chest instead of placing it inside the trunk. “She was wonderful wasn’t she?”
Benedict smiled and nodded, reaching forward to press a kiss to Sophie’s temple.
“So were you. A perfect society mama. Put my own mother to shame.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Sophie said with a giggle. “It will only get more difficult from here on out, you know. The older Violet gets.”
Neither of them had expected or even encouraged Violet to find a match her first season. She was so young still. No, they had mainly allowed her to have her coming out so she could enjoy the social season with the rest of her cousins, being so close in age and getting on so well. Benedict furrowed his brow at the thought Sophie posed.
“I’m endeavoring to scare off suitors for at least another five years. Maybe ten.”
“Benedict!” Sophie laughed.
“Eloise married at 28 and she says she doesn’t regret it one bit. I think Violet could learn from her.”
“We can’t keep her with us forever,” Sophie reminded him; much as they would like to. Violet was their last child. William was now in University alongside Alexander, Charlie had left university the year prior and had taken residence in London until the time came for him to take over My Cottage in Wiltshire. That would not be for some time yet. Benedict’s views on Violet’s impending marriage was out of fatherly protectiveness. Sophie’s was out of the feeling that her little house of dreams was getting emptier and emptier.
“You say I spoil her,” Benedict said suddenly, ripping Sophie from her thoughts as he picked through a pile of discarded items. “I can’t imagine what any human being would need so much ribbon for.”
“To dress the hair, for one. Then to change up one’s dresses. Of course, they need to come in every color.” Sophie held up a beautiful beaded dress to illustrate.
“I’ll bet you would have looked quite fetching in all these feathers and ribbons.”
Sophie cast her eyes down, a sad smile on her face; despite all the years.
“You’ll recall, I did not have a coming out. Maids tend not to.”
There was a silence as Sophie stared at her hands in her lap, fiddling with some of the beads on the dress she held.
“You deserved one,” Benedict said quietly, “you deserve the world.”
At that, Sophie looked up at him; eyes wide. “You gave me the world.”
“Sophie,” he said gravely “I could be married to you a hundred years and I don’t ever think I’ll be able to do enough for you.”
When they’d first married, Benedict had bought her more dresses and trinkets than Sophie knew what to do with. She soon learned that she could not so much as linger longer than necessary, looking at an item in a shop window, because within hours it would appear at My Cottage. But that wasn’t what Sophie meant when she told him he’d given her the world.
“You gave me a family,” she whispered. Be it the thought of having an empty nest, or of seeing her children so happy and accepted in lives she never had, but she was suddenly gripped with emotions that warred with one another. Happiness, sorrow, longing, fulfillment. She felt Benedict wrap an arm around her shoulders and she snuggled into his side, sighing deeply.
“I remember when the earl married Araminta,” she began quietly. In all their years of marriage, of baring their souls to one another, she’d never told him this. “I waited all morning for him to arrive at Penwood Park so I could meet her. So I could meet her daughters. I was to have sisters. It was all I ever wanted. That large empty house and all those years I spent alone. I would have traded anything, any number of pretty dresses or invitations to balls, just to have a family.”
“It was their loss, my love,” Benedict said quietly but seriously, rubbing his hand down her arm in comfort.
“We made up for it, didn’t we?” She asked, pulling back to look up into his face. “Everyone thought we were mad having all the children so close to one another. But I just wanted them to have playmates.”
“I’ll admit there was a time when even I thought we were mad,” Benedict joked. “It’s all turned out quite nicely though, hasn’t it?”
Sophie nodded. “I’ve always envied how close you and Anthony are. I never had that. But I wanted it for the kids.”
“The boys are quite close. Especially now that they’re all in school together.”
“And they’ll no doubt enjoy torturing Violet for the rest of her days,” Sophie said. She gave a sad little laugh. “I don’t know what I’ll do with myself when Violet marries and leaves home.”
“You’ll have me,” Benedict reminded her, nudging her chin and pulling her in for a slow, sensual kiss. “You’ll always have me.”