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Sophie should have realized something was wrong with her husband the moment she left him alone with his younger brother.
Francesca's engagement to Lord John Stirling had been announced and planned to be held in Kent, meaning the Bridgerton Clan had all traveled to Audrey Hall to celebrate and be present for the coming wedding, which would be held in the following weeks.
Much of what Sophie had learned of John Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin, was from letters Francesca had sent from London during their courting. From what she had read, her sister-in-law was smitten, and Sophie couldn't help but feel only joy and happiness for her. And she was excited to finally meet him in person.
And the outing would be their first from Wiltshire since Charles had been born. Sophie had thought it'd be a good idea, given how stressed Benedict was lately over his upcoming exhibit. It was also a chance for little baby Charles to see all his relatives again.
With a young child to mind now, Benedict and Sophie decided to arrive a day early at Audrey Hall. The next day, she'd been in the parlor with Charles, introducing him to his aunts and uncles as they arrived. Charles had been in her arms, gurgling and grinning as he was fawned over by his relatives when Sophie realized her husband had disappeared. While she'd initially been concerned over his sudden disappearance, Kate had told her not to worry, merely brushing it off and assuming he'd gone to catch up with his brothers.
Only, as the day continued, she realized she still hadn't seen any signs of Benedict. And as much as she enjoyed the company of her in-laws and saying hello to everyone as they arrived throughout the day, she had at least expected to see him in passing. But no, nothing, not so much of a peep or sign of her husband anywhere. And no one had seen him either.
After putting Charles down for his afternoon nap, she decided to look for her missing husband. Instead of finding him locked away in one of the many rooms of Audrey Hall conversing with his brothers or sketching, she came across a very skittish Colin, who merely told her Benedict was working on a painting and he'd go find him for her.
"I am more than capable of that, Colin. I do live with Benedict, and I am his wife. I know how he is. So I will ask again, where is he?" she asked.
Colin stuttered for a moment. "He asked to not be bothered, what with the exhibit coming up. He said he needed privacy, but I'll go tell him you were looking for him. Besides, I was on my way to speak with him right now. Won't be a moment."
Sophie frowned but relented as her brother-in-law charged off, giving her no chance to speak. She intended to follow but knew how caught up Benedict could get in his paintings, especially when he was working on a deadline. Benedict never asked her to not disturb him unless he was genuinely focused on finishing his work, and as much as Sophie hated it, she gave him his space when he asked.
She left Colin to be the one to find Benedict and headed back to the nursery. Charles had woken from his nap and was being tended to by one of the maids. He was all smiles and happiness as she took him from the nursemaid.
Sophie spent the rest of her afternoon with him on her hip as she prepared for dinner, after which she handed him back to the maids, begrudgingly, so she may attend said family dinner. She didn't like being away from him for too long.
Benedict was late. As was Colin. Both stumbled into the room a few minutes after the rest of the family had taken their seats.
"Hi," was the first thing Benedict said as he smiled at her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and taking his seat next to her on the right.
"Hi yourself," Sophie returned.
He practically collapsed into the chair, almost falling out of it. Sophie frowned, but Benedict only giggled softly under his breath as he grabbed his napkin off the plate in front of him and dropped it over his lap. Colin had taken the seat on his other side.
She frowned. "Are you alright?"
"He's fine," Colin answered for him, and Benedict nodded in agreement.
"Too much tea, brother?" Eloise asked from where she sat to Sophie's left.
"He's fine," Colin repeated, frowning at his sister.
Sophie eyed them suspiciously. And she wasn't the only one; Violet was also watching the pair from where she sat at the other end of the table by Anthony and Kate. The pair exchanged a wary glance, and Sophie prayed she had no reason to be concerned.
The happy couple, whose engagement everyone was celebrating tonight, was seated directly across from her and Benedict. Both Francesca and John were being bombarded with questions from everyone over their engagement and upcoming wedding. Before long, once every central question was asked, the conversations broke into many smaller ones, and Sophie found herself conversing with John and Francesca about their honeymoon plans.
"We are planning to stay at a cottage John's family has near Inverness," Francesca informed her. She was practically beaming with happiness that Sophie found herself unable to not smile fondly at the couple.
"Sounds wonderful," she said.
Dinner was being served, hearty meats and buttered vegetables being placed on the table around them. The servants quickly moved around, changing the plates with fresh, clean ones. Sophie made sure to get a decent sharing of food on her plate as Francesca informed her of Inverness and everywhere John planned to show her.
"And how is Wiltshire?" John asked. "Francesca informed me you live at a Your Cottage?"
Sophie shook her head, laughing a little at John's confusion over the name. "It is called My Cottage. The name comes from the previous owner who built it. It's quite a lovely home."
"It's beautiful," Benedict interjected. "Not as beautiful as Sophie, though. Nothing is more beautiful than Sophie."
Sophie couldn't help but blush, her cheeks burning, even as the corner of her lips were tugged upward in a smile. Even though they were now married, Benedict's public declarations of his love for her were something she still struggled to get used to.
"Francesca told me your family is involved in the whiskey business," Sophie said to John, attempting to move the conversation along.
John nodded. "Yes. A long family tradition going back a few centuries. Call me biased, but there is no whiskey finer than Kilmartin."
"I guess I must try-" Sophie started.
Benedict moaned.
Sophie froze and blinked. Glancing towards her husband, her head snapping in his direction, Sophie frowned as she watched him intently. His moan of pleasure was loud enough for John and Francesca to notice, as well as Colin, who gave a quick side glance at his brother while in mid-conversation with Gregory.
"This is delicious," Benedict stated, shoving more food into his mouth and moaning. He was eating as though he had never had food before in his life.
"Benedict, slow down. You'll choke," Sophie whispered.
"Right, your right," Benedict agreed, nodding vigorously, his mouth still full of food. He swallowed. "Apologies."
In the candlelight, she was able to notice his pupils were blown. His pale eyes were nothing more than thin blue circles around his large pupils. He was sweating as well, as though he was feverish, and his skin appeared clammy.
Sophie studied him. "Darling, are you alright?"
"Perfect," Benedict replied, giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek again before returning to his meal. "This food is amazing."
Not entirely convinced, Sophie glanced over towards Colin, who currently couldn't meet Sophie's stare. Now she was getting really concerned. She had no idea what the two of them had gotten up to when they had been left to their own devices.
Taking her napkin, Sophie wiped off the saliva Benedict had left on her cheek before taking her glass for a quick sip of wine. It may be the only thing to get her through the subsequent two courses.
"Amazing as it is, nothing tastes as delicious as you do, Sophie," Benedict said, and instead of swallowing the liquid, Sophie inhaled it.
Maybe she would not make it through dinner.
"Benedict!" Francesca gasped, stunned at what he had just said as Sophie choked. John blinked before quickly moving to cover his mouth, stifling a smile and snicker behind his hand. Eloise, meanwhile, hearing what her brother had just declared to the table, began laughing loudly as Sophie continued to choke and sputter next to her, desperately trying to get air back into her lungs. Eloise was still laughing as she leaned over to whack Sophie a few times on the back.
"What? You do," Benedict added, not understanding why everyone was so alarmed.
"Is everything alright?" Violet asked.
Sophie coughed, trying to clear her throat. "Yes, yes, of course."
Putting her glass and napkin on the table, Sophie pushed her chair out. She had to get Benedict out of there before he said anything else.
"I think Benedict and I will turn in early. It has been such a long day, and I believe he isn't feeling well," she lied. She glanced at Colin, giving him the sternest stare she could muster and hissing. "Colin? A little help?"
"I feel fine," Benedict told her, confused by what was happening. However, Colin quickly came to her aid, realizing he was currently a dead man walking.
"She's right, brother," Colin added to her lie, pushing his chair out to stand. "You seem a little feverish. You must have caught something during your travels."
The two of them quickly worked to get Benedict out of his chair and out of the room with little issue, being watched by the entire family as they struggled. Benedict still gave them some trouble, stumbling out of the room as he protested his excellent health. They had to practically push him out of the room with Sophie's hand over his mouth, and up the stairs to the room they were sharing.
Once they'd gotten into the room, Benedict's behavior went from stubbornness to giddiness. Now giggling from all the manhandling as they dropped him onto the bed.
Once the door was shut, Sophie spun around to face Colin.
"What happened? What did you two do? Did you give him something?" Sophie demanded, sputtering. Furious with the both of them.
Colin stuttered, shoulders up towards his ear and hands raised in surrender. "He asked me for something to help him with his paintings. I didn't give him much, just enough to help him relax. He must have taken more when I wasn't looking."
"You drugged him!" Sophie almost screeched.
"He asked me to!" Colin returned, equally as loud and alarmed.
"I did," Benedict added calmly from where he sat on the bed, hands resting on the duvet. "I did ask him for it."
Sophie covered her face with her hands. This was mortifying. She was sure half the table had heard him declare how much he enjoyed going down on her. She knew John had. Oh, what must he think of them now? He'd only just met them, and now-
She took a deep breath, turning to face her husband. "Might I inquire as to why you would do this?"
Benedict shrugged.
"Benedict," she said more sternly.
He sighed dramatically, as she'd seen Edmund do when Kate told him he had to wear his shoes when he went outside to play with his cousins. His head fell back, practically about to collapse onto the bed's covers as he groaned.
"The paintings. They were giving me…issues," he finally said.
Sophie took a deep breath. "And how would being under the influence help?"
"They were able to inspire me the last time I took them. And they did. Oh, Sophie, you should see them. They're wonderful," Benedict told her, excitement lacing his slurred tone.
Sophie looked towards Colin, as he was most likely to have been the one to see them, but her brother-in-law only shook his head. Her eyes widened. 'That bad?' she mouthed to him, but he only shrugged.
"I was able to sketch out ideas as well. I know exactly which ones should go to the exhibit. I have it all figured out now," Benedict prattled on about the colors and ideas he'd come up with.
"How long will this last?" Sophie calmly asked Colin, ignoring her husband's ranting.
"Should only last the night. He'll be fine in the morning. It is probably best to just let him sleep it off," Colin replied.
Sophie took a deep breath. She still had a young infant to check on, one she had left in the care of a nursemaid. Which was now on top of caring for an inebriated husband. While she could inform the maid to put Charles down, Sophie truly wanted to do it herself. She hated being away from him for too long.
If she had to lock Benedict in the room while she checked on Charles so he wouldn't embarrass them further, she would. She'd shut Colin in here as well to watch him if necessary.
"Might I leave?" Colin finally asked, sounding and looking increasingly uncomfortable.
Sophie sighed. "Yes. Yes, you may go, Colin."
Colin took her approval and quickly escaped the room, fleeing faster than Sophie had ever seen any man move and closing the door behind him. Sophie turned back to her husband, who was leaning back on his hands, staring up at her eyes filled with affection and adoration. A look she'd gotten from him many times from Benedict to show how completely smitten with her. Usually, she found it charming, it always ending with them in each other's arms, but tonight she would not let it charm her.
"You are so beautiful. Have I told you that today?" he told her. "How did I marry someone as wonderful as you?"
"By your mother having her hand over Hyacinth's mouth during the ceremony so she could not object," Sophie replied, recalling Hyacinth's inconsolable betrayal at Benedict when their engagement was announced. She'd been distraught over him taking her favorite ladies maid away from Number 5.
Benedict snickered. "She was furious with us, wasn't she?"
"You more than me," Sophie corrected, reaching to tenderly brush his sweaty hair off his forehead. "Benedict. Why did you do this?"
"Is this you admonishing me?" he asked.
"This is me trying to figure out why you felt it necessary to do this to yourself. Benedict, I know the exhibit is important to you, and I know how much you've been worrying over it, but we have a son now," Sophie told him.
"I know."
"You think I want you caring for him while you're in this state? Let alone near him?"
"I did not go near him, Soph. I would never."
"Then why?"
Benedict sighed. It seemed he may have sobered up somewhat with how worried, stressed, and disappointed Sophie was with him.
"I have found myself…unable to paint as of late," he told her.
Sophie frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I've had no inspiration, no ideas, no focus. Every time I pick up a brush to try and finish any of the paintings I am already working on, I find I cannot bring myself to even touch the canvas with it. Even sketching has been difficult," Benedict explained.
Creative block. She knew Benedict struggled with it. He had when they had been staying for the first time at My Cottage. Once in a while, his insecurities would get the best of him as she walked into his studio with half-finished or untouched canvases and paper sketches crumpled around the room. His studio had looked that way lately, everything a cluttered mess, but Benedict had told her he was alright and would figure it out. She should have realized that he was more stressed than she had initially thought.
"How long has this been going on?" Sophie asked.
He hesitated.
"How long has this been going on, Benedict?" she asked again.
"Since…since Charles was born," he admitted, pushing up and sitting up at the edge of the bed. He rubbed his face with his hands. "I haven't been able to think about anything else but-"
Sophie closed her eyes. That meant five months he'd been struggling and hadn't told her. While she was still unhappy with what he had done and somewhat angrier that Benedict hadn't told her of his struggles, she was beginning to understand why he had done this. And realizing she should have noticed. She should have realized Charles' birth still had an effect on him.
Charles' birth hadn't been an easy one. He'd come two weeks before he was due, which had only caused Sophie further stress as she feared the outcome of his birth would be the same for her as it had been for her mother. Sophie had been terrified during the latter part of her pregnancy, worried sick about the coming labor while trying to not let that worry rub off on Benedict. Some days she feared it had been the cause of Charles arriving earlier than he should.
But he was healthy and happy and completely perfect. Neither one of them had any reason to be concerned over Charles. Even the doctor who delivered him felt there was no reason to worry.
She should have realized her stress had gotten to Benedict. He'd hovered over her almost obsessively in the final months before Charles arrived. And it probably had not helped her demands he pick the baby over her when her labor had started. Tears had streamed down her face as she'd gone through each contraction, scared she was experiencing her final moments on earth, while Benedict had gripped her hand and desperately tried to reassure her.
"Benedict, you should have told me," she said softly, brushing at the curls over his forehead. She sighed. "No. I should have noticed."
Benedict took her hand, kissing her palm gently. "You were tucked up in bed recovering. I did not wish to cause you further worry."
"But I did not mean to worry you," she retorted, sighing again. "I should never have put that on you, Benedict. I am so sorry."
"There is no need to apologize as you are already forgiven," he told her, kissing her palm again. He'd held her hand near his face, so Sophie brought the other one up to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb over the afternoon stubble that had grown.
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "I love you."
Benedict hummed. "I love you too."
He dropped her hand to move his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. With her standing between his legs, Sophie brought her hands up his back to his neck. Benedict rested his head on her chest, his face in the fabric right where the slope between her breasts was. She did not believe it was a comfortable position, given his nose pressed against the stiff stay she wore under her dress.
"Just because I am no longer angry with you does not mean I forgive you for your behavior," she reminded him, lightly tracing her fingers up and down the back of his neck.
"I know," Benedict mumbled into her bosom, face hidden in the fabric of the pale green and white dress she'd worn for the evening.
"And I mean it when I say this can never happen again for no reason. Ever," she said, and Benedict mumbled his understanding, again into her chest, as she continued. "When you have this issue, any issue, you come and tell me."
Benedict mumbled again, somewhat quieter than before. Blissfully unaware, Sophie continued trailing her fingers up and down his neck, into his hair, and then back down soothingly. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head as she stroked his hair.
"We are married now, Benedict. We are supposed to be a team, and I want to be there for you, Benedict. No matter what. You know I will always love and support you-" Sophie stopped mid sentence, realizing her husband had become relatively silent and unresponsive in her arms. His arms were no longer wrapped around her waist.
Glancing down, Sophie studied him for a moment. It was difficult to gauge his expression as his head and face rested in her chest, hidden from view, but she slowly realized what the gentle, equal breaths he kept taking meant.
Sophie took a deep breath, closing her eyes, saying softly. "You did not just fall asleep on my bosom?"
Sighing, she leaned forward and released her hold on Benedict, letting him drop back onto the covers. He didn't wake as his body slumped on top of the cover, still in his evening wear and shoes. The drugs in his system had apparently pulled him into unconsciousness.
Sophie was not going to deal with this now; she had an actual infant to check on. She'd deal with him when he woke up and was clear-minded again.
But, she was nice enough to take off Benedict's shoes before leaving the room to check on Charles.