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"How do you say castle in French, Sophie?”
“I am not going to give away all the answers for you, Hyacinth,” Sophie replied as her eyes were dangerously wandering on Benedict Bridgerton. He had arrived earlier today for a Pall Mall game with the rest of his siblings. Only Hyacinth and Eloise had been not allowed to take part – the first because of unfinished French exercises and the later because of her imminent Season debut. “You need to learn how to stay still like a lady,” her mother had told her. Surprisingly, Eloise had not complained, not even winced and was sitting, a book in her hand.
Sophie looked over Hyacinth’s shoulders and sighed. With a pace like this, the poor girl would never enjoy her afternoon. And Sophie knew Hyacinth had been waiting to see her siblings. Especially Anthony. Now married, the Viscount had little time for the youngest Bridegerton and Sophie could tell it affected her terribly.
“Château.”
Hyacinth’s eyes widened. “Did you just help me?”
“Do not tell your mother,” Sophie whispered as she read the next word to translate. “The next answer is roi.”
Eloise took her eyes away from her book. “Sophie, I could denounce you.”
“You won’t. You like me too much for that,” she replied with a wink. Eloise lifted her shoulders and went back to her reading and within five minutes, Sophie and Hyacinth finished the exercises. The girl smiled triumphantly and hugged Sophie. “Thank you, Sophie. Now, may I go to play?”
“Wait for five more minutes. Otherwise, your mother will believe you’re a genius and she might find some weird tutor to test your abilities.”
“Agreed. I hope they will let me play. It seems they’ve already started.”
Indeed they had. Sophie was not familiar with the game, but it seemed quite popular here. Hyacinth had wanted to teach her, but she had been too busy until now. By the look if it, Benedict wasn’t winning as his ball had been pulled away by the Viscountess’s. A sigh escaped from her mouth. Benedict looked handsome and it was harder for her to hide her feelings for the man. Thankfully, she would be able to leave the Brigdertons soon.
Minutes passed in a very unusual silence. “It’s been five minutes. You may go, Hyacinth.” The girl jumped out from her chair and ran toward her siblings...only to return one minute later, in tears. Sophie stood up to reach for the girl, who hugged her fiercely. “What happened?”
“Colin didn’t want me to play. He said they had started it and it was too late.”
“Colin is stupid,” Eloise whispered. “I am going to strangle him.”
“You will not do such things, Eloise.” Sophie said as she wiped the tears off the girl’s face. “What about the others?”
Hyacinth curled her hands into small fists. “Nothing. They were too busy with the game. Anthony did not even acknowledge me. He was busy. With Kate. He doesn’t see me anymore.” Her tears doubled, streaming on her angelic face. Sophie’s heart ached for Hyacinth as she better understood the real reasons behind the tears. Sophie did not doubt the Viscount was a good man, but he had hurt Hyacinth’s feelings. And it was not the first time.
“It’s going to be alright, Hyacinth.” Sophie looked up at Eloise. “Eloise, you and I we’ll have a little promenade, right?”
Eloise rolled her eyes. She clearly had no intention of stopping her reading, but Sophie knew she had a good heart – she would do anything for her siblings. “Well, I suppose the book can wait.” Sophie winked at her, grateful, not surprised in the least. Eloise was a Brigderton, after all.
A few days later
Back in her small bedroom, Sophie fell on her mattress. She was tired. Exhausted, even. She had prepared Eloise for a ball tonight and the girl had not been very cooperative. If there was one thing she hated, it was society outings.
A knock on the door made her open her eyes. Sophie stood up. A crazy thought crossed her mind. Benedict. No, she told herself, facing the door. Benedict had probably given up on her already. It had been a while he had not uttered a single word to her. It pained her, although it was what she had asked of him. Opening the door, Sophie was stunned to see an another Bridgerton instead. Hyacinth.
The girl was oddly silent. Her eyes, usually playful, were filled with worry. Sophie gestured her to come in. “Is something amiss, Hyacinth?” she joined the girl sat on the bed.
“I had a nightmare,” Hyacinth confessed.
Sophie remained silent for a minute, before asking if she wanted to talk about it. Hyacinth shrugged. “It was my dad. His back faced me. We were outside, in the garden. There was a bee approaching and I tried to tell him. I shouted again and again and eventually, he turned, but…” she trailed off. Sophie took her hand in hers. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you would like.”
But Hyacinth shook her head. “I want to talk about it. You’re the only whom I can talk about it.” Sophie’s breath seemed caught in her throat as she processed what she had just heard. She knew the death of Edmund Bridgerton was a sensitive issue. Benedict had never brought up the topic with her and as far as she could tell, everyone had an unspoken aversion to bees in this house.
“Anyway, eventually he did listen to my voice and he turned. But when he did, he was...faceless. It’s logical, I guess. Because I never met him. He died before my birth, you know.” Sophie shuddered at the horror Hyacinth had experience in her sleep and, without thinking, she squeezed the girl into her arms.
“Sometimes, I envy my siblings.” she whispered as if she wouldn’t admit it out loud. “They knew him. I don’t know how he even sounds. Does it make me a bad person, Sophie?”
“Not at all, darling. It makes you humane. I, too, didn’t have much memories of my father. Or my mother. It’s not easy. But you’re brave, Hyacinth. Brave and Bridgerton.” Sophie looked at Hyacinth. The girl had fallen asleep in her arms.
A week later
Hyacinth had jumped in Sophie’s bed one more time. The nightmare had been different. This time, it was Anthony who had been at the mercy of a bee. She had burst into Sophie’s room, in tears and completely panicking. Sophie had tried to reassure the little girl as much as she could, but she knew the wounds went deeper. Hyacinth woke up during the night. Still about Anthony. This time, he was refusing to speak to her, despite her pleading him to see her. Sophie needed to do something about it, although she still didn’t have any idea at the moment. For a minute, she regretted telling Benedict to stay away from her. If she hadn’t, she could talk to him. He would know what to do.
But today, she had other things to do. The Bridgerton siblings were reunited in the drawing room and Hyacinth had forgotten the little painting she had made for Kate in her bedroom. Sophie had pushed her to do this, to bring her and Anthony’s wife closer. Hyacinth had been reluctant but had, in the end, given in. If she had Kate on her side, Anthony would come around. Besides, Hyacinth didn’t resent Kate at all. She had confessed to Sophie she actually liked the new addition to the family.
Sophie walked in, carefully avoiding Benedict’s gaze. She had been wrong – while he did not seek to engage any conversation with her, he kept looking at her. He was just better at hiding it, than she was.
“I believe congratulations are in order, brother. Kate, I’m sure you’ll be a fantastic mother.” she heard him say as she placed the little framing on a table nearby.
“Thank you, Benedict. You’ll do wonders as an uncle, I’m sure.” Anthony Bridgerton replied. “Hyacinth, why are you pulling such a face?”
Sophie stilled, fearing for the worst. Hyacinth felt abandoned by her eldest brother. With a child on the way, the fear could only grow. “Congratulations,” Hyacinth murmured, clearly unconvinced by her words. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said as she fled the room running.
“What’s gotten into her?” Anthony asked, half stunned, half angry. “I want her down immediately. She needs to apologize.”
“It’s not necessary, Anthony,” Kate said smoothly.
Colin snorted. “She’ll come around. She is used to have your full attention.” Sophie rolled her eyes. The man meant it well, but this time, he was wrong. She turned to face all of them, not fearing for the consequences. “Instead of mocking your sister, you should try to listen to what she had to say. You’ll be surprised.”
She felt Benedict’s eyes on her immediately. He looked quite shocked by her intrusion into a family matter. They all did. But it was her matter as much as theirs. Hyacinth had become a sister to her. Maids didn’t really talk freely. They rarely talked, truthfully. But Sophie wasn’t a usual maid. In another world, she would have been an Earl’s daughter, acknowledged by society despite her mother’s social status.
“No one hasn’t seen it, then,” she added as she crossed her arms against her chest.
“See what?” Benedict dared to ask.
“Hyacinth is having nightmares. About your father. About you, Viscount Bridgerton. She is terrified. She is sad. She needs you.” She picked up the painting. “She even made this for your wife. She doesn’t your full attention, she only wants you to see her and spend some time with her.”
She handed the painting to Kate, who smiled at her. “And it’s not you she’s looking for solace.” she told Anthony. “Not you either,” she told this time Benedict and Colin. “It’s me. The maid. Because I seem to be the only one who sees Hyacinth for what she is. A young girl in deep pain.”
And just like that, she left the room. She had seen how Benedict had been ready to go after her, but they both knew it would be highly suspicious. Besides, she didn’t give a fig about what he would say. He wasn’t her priority. Hyacinth was.
During the night
“Does your family usually spend their night in the kichen?” Sophie inquired. Hyacinth had sneaked in her room tonight, again. Not for a nightmare this time, but merely to talk. She had heard Sophie defending her to the rest of the family and had wanted to convey her thanks. After a long hour of talking, both women happened to be thirsty and Sophie had suggested hot milk.
“No, why?”
“Cause I believe they decided to have a glass of hot milk as well. Look,” she said as they approached the kitchen. As they entered, all eyes turned on them. Benedict’s included. Sophie congratulated herself for putting some proper clothes.
They looked quite helpless. Anthony, who apparently had decided to stay for the night, were holding two bottles of milk while Eloise and Colin were arguing over the stove. A giggle escaped Sophie’s lips. “May I be of some assistance?”
“No, do not bother, Sophie. I am sure Colin knows how to light a stove,” Eloise said as she glared at her brother.
“After you, sister.”
Sophie sighed. No one of them had the faintest idea how to light a stove. She glanced at Benedict. He was still looking at her and her cheeks turned suddenly pink as warmth spread inside her. Clearing her throat, she gestured to let her pass. “I’ll do it. Just take some notes in your journal, would you, Eloise?” Eloise nodded. Sophie turned to Hyacinth, who was avoiding Anthony’s eyes. “Hyacinth, you’ll help me.”
And she did, with great interest. Eloise kept asking questions on the process, for “scientific purposes” while the rest remained pretty much mute. Sophie, amused to be in spotlight, provided her with answers. Benedict took advantage of the situation to get nearer and there were one or two instances where his hand touched hers.
“Sophie, I had no idea you would make hot milk like that,” Hyacinth told her, enchanted by what a stove could do.
“Well, now you know. I could show you other things if you would like,” Sophie replied as she gave her a glass of milk.
“Father loved hot milk,” Anthony said, his eyes never leaving Hyacinth.
“He did?” she asked, getting closer to her brother.
The viscount nodded as he put back in place a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It helped him to fall asleep.” He kept talking to her as Sophie washed the empty glasses. She felt a presence behind her and she turned. Benedict.
“You did well earlier.”
“I know,” she replied dryly.
“I wish you would speak to me so honestly,” he handed her the last glass.
“And I wish you wouldn’t, especially in front of your family,” she gritted her teeth. Once done with the work, she took a look at Hyacinth, absorbed in whatever her oldest brother was telling her.
“He is her role model,” Benedict said.
“So are you,” Sophie replied.
He crossed his arms. “I’m no match for Anthony in her eyes. I guess we all have a favourite.”
“Who’s yours?”
“You,” he whispered. She blushed furiously. “Probably Eloise. But don’t tell her. It will go straight to her head.”
“I promise.”
Anthony cleared his throat. “By the way, you’ll sleep in your own bed tonight, Hyacinth. I’ll go with you.” He extended his hand to his sister. It was his way of apologizing and Sophie was grateful for it. A glimpse of a smile formed on Hyacinth’s lips. She turned to Sophie. “May I, Sophie?”
“Of course,” she winked at the girl. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
