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It was a lovely night and Sophie hadn’t managed to hide her excitement very well in the carriage. She had bombarded with questions Benedict, and she feared her poor husband might already be exhausted from her interrogatory. But she had seen so little of London and its festivities since her marriage with Benedict. Not like she complained – country life agreed with her, but an opera night or a ball remained an exciting adventure compared to her former life.
As soon as the carriage stopped, signalling they reached their destination, she jumped out off it. “This is…” she began, uncertain English had the proper adjective to qualify what she had been actually beholding. Plunged in the night, Lady Danbury’s property had been lit with candles. Millions of them. Fascinating.
“Very dangerous,” Benedict finished her sentence for her. He offered her arm as he whispered a very seducing “Mrs. Bridgerton,” and Sophie blushed.
Her amazement tripled as soon as they reached the ballroom. She let a little gasp out of her mouth. No one heard her – the music was already playing, covering her surprise. She looked up and discovered new treasures as sumptuous paintings covered the ceiling. “Do really people call that a House, Benedict?” she asked her husband, who handed her one glass of wine. He shrugged. “Society has its own mysteries.”
Her eyes still on the ceiling, she felt Benedict’s arm sliding her waist. “Benedict,” she muttered as she didn’t want to attract the rest of the audience attention. “I am merely making sure you don’t fall.” His justification made her smile.
“Do you like the paintings?” he asked in return. She nodded. “I have to confess, I don’t believe they are good as yours, though,” she added. Now, he was the one blushing and triumph ran through her. Two could play this game.
Eventually, they danced. Sophie had not attended many balls prior to her marriage to Benedict, but she had managed to become a proficient dancer. Not the best, but enough for her to not break one of the ten Benedict’s precious toes. She ought to thank her husband for that – he had begged her for teaching her at My Cottage. Eventually, a tutor had been hired as dancing with Benedict usually ended up in very little dancing. He really had his way with her.
As they twirled on the dance floor, something caught her attention. Benedict’s older brother, Anthony Bridgerton, was staring at them quite intensely. Odd. They had met earlier, with the rest of the family – Kate naturally, Colin and Eloise, along with Violet Brigderton, were also part of the attendance tonight. Benedict had been too caught with the her revealing dress to notice.
“Benedict, I believe we have enough dancing for the night,” she told him.
He shook his head and proceeded with the dance. “Not a chance, Sophie. If we stop now, you’ll tell me I didn’t dance enough with you by tomorrow. I know you and I don’t want to be in trouble.”
She rolled her eyes at his dramatic stance and took the first opportunity to drag him along with her to his brother. Anthony nodded to her, thanking her. Benedict raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that was happening between her and his brother.
“We have a situation,” the viscount said.
Benedict frowned as his eyes lingered on the refreshments. Colin might be the hungriest Bridgerton, but Benedict certainly took second place. Or third, after Gregory. Sophie couldn’t really tell. That family never seemed tired of eating. She elbowed him and
“We have an Eloise situation,” Anthony clarified.
Benedict suddenly got very serious. “Where is she? What happened?” Anthony made a slight movement of the head to follow him. He led them to an adjacent room, already crowded by the rest of the family. And a man. Sophie had never seen him, but by his look, he probably was a nobleman. He didn’t seem pleased to be here and kept shouting incoherent things at Colin.
“No one is going to duel anyone,” Kate said as they came in. “Ah, Anthony you’re here.” Her husband stood beside her. “I believe he won’t apologize.”
Sophie took a closer look at Eloise. Rage irradiated her face and her mother was desperately trying to hold her still. In vain. Seeing Violet so distressed, Sophie got closer and put a hand on Eloise’s shoulder. “What did he do, Eloise?”
“He insulted me. He told me I was stupid. Could you believe it, Sophie? Me, stupid? So, I slapped him with my purse. And now he is angry at me.”
Benedict snorted. “The man has a death wish.”
“Benedict,” Sophie growled. Now was not the time to crack a joke.
“Bridgerton, your sister needs to be tamed with a sharp tongue like hers,” the man spat the words. “No wonder no one wants to marry her. She’s a nuisance.”
Sophie gritted her teeth. It was clear the man wouldn’t let go. Anthony wouldn’t risk a stupid duel and would probably resolve this with money. But this wasn’t fair. Eloise had stood up for herself, and by giving money away, the gentleman would only profit off his crime. She had to do something. She needed to do something. Eloise was her sister. She had looked after her as her maid and she knew her well - Eloise might not show it, but Sophie knew the words the man kept throwing at her upset her greatly.
“Benedict, gloves.”
While husbands of their time hated to be bossed around by their wives, Benedict did not hesitate. She slid her gloves off and handed them to Benedict.
She faced the man, who seemed amused by her intervention. “Do not take a look at them,” she compelled him. “This isn’t them you should be fearing right now. You’ll apologize on the spot to my sister-in-law. Surely, the word is familiar to you?”
He snickered at her. “Aren’t you the poor girl that married the useless Bridgerton?”
Her face heated with fury. It was one thing to throw back her condition at her, but she wouldn’t let anyone say her husband was the “useless Brigerton.” That useless Bridgerton had saved her life, accommodated her, found her a job. Benedict Bridgerton was anything but useless. Benedict Brigerton was a caring brother, an amazing painter and a fantastic husband. Gloves back in her hand as she snatched them from Benedict’s hand, she took a step forward and without thinking twice, she slapped the man’s face with them. The man fell on the ground, obviously in pain. Madame Delacroix had been right – the fabric was very resistant. She made a note in her head to thank the modiste during her next visit.
“I love you Sophie Bridgerton,” she heard Benedict say and she winked at him.
“Manners, Benedict,” Violet hissed.
“You’re…,” the man started.
“You don’t want to finish that sentence,” Benedict warned him. “Besides, I don’t believe you want to be told you were manhandled by a woman.”
“There are no witnesses.”
“I believe there are,” Colin said as he gestured to the rest of the family. “I am sure Lady Whistledown would love publishing the story as well. The woman loves a good story. And I believe this one is very good. What do you think, Anthony?”
“I’m sure I could find a way to reach Lady Whistledown. After all, she seems to love the Bridgertons,” Anthony replied.
The man sighed. “Fine, Bridgerton. You’ve won. Miss Bridgerton, I apologize. Mrs Bridgerton, I apologize. But please, not a word to that wretch of author. My reputation is at stake,” the man joined his hands together in plea.
Anthony glanced at his sister. “Well, I believe this is settled then. Right, Eloise?” She nodded and looked back at the man. “Enjoy the rest of the ball, baronet.” Suffice to say the man fled the room right away.
***
“Eloise, are you alright?” Sophie asked as they exited the room wit the rest of the family.
Eloise nodded. “You didn’t have to do this for me, Sophie.”
“Of course I had.” She hugged her sister-in-law. “This is what you do for your family.”