Chapter Text
Benedict Bridgerton sighed quietly. He wasn’t sure what had caused his melancholy mood that day - it had been a lovely morning, gathered with his family for a farewell luncheon for Gregory, who was off to school the next day. The Bridgertons and assorted attached friends were now flung around the parlour, chatting or playing games. His mother and Francesca were sitting with the Ladies Danbury and Mary Sharma, discussing Francesca’s hopes for her upcoming debut season. Anthony and Kate were sitting by the window, bickering happily as they played - or cheated at - cards. Simon and Daphne were sitting on the floor with Augie, using flashcards to teach the lad the alphabet. The boy might have been the genius Daphne swore he was, but he seemed far more interested in chewing on the flash cards than reading them.
On the chaise lounge, Eloise and Edwina seemed to be discussing the books piled up beside them, and behind them, Hyacinth appeared to be giving Gregory a list of instructions and suggestions for things she wished him to learn and then come back and teach her.
And then there was his younger brother Colin, sitting in the window seat with Penelope Featherington, engaged in a quiet and serious conversation. Benedict was pleased to see them talking once more - it had not sat well when they were on the outs, and neither was it natural that Eloise was not talking to Penelope. He didn’t know what had happened there, only that Eloise refused to greet or even look at Penelope when she’d arrived, and Penelope had spent her time talking only with Colin.
Benedict himself was sitting in the armchair. He supposed that normally he would have had a sketchbook in his hands but recently he had been unable to draw or paint or create anything. He’d had trouble since he found out that Anthony had made a donation to smooth Benedict’s way into the Royal Academy. The images just wouldn’t come to him and he didn’t know how to bring them back.
It also seemed to him that he was feeling increasingly alone in his family. Perhaps once, before the last couple of years, he would have been able to sneak off for a drink with Anthony, or he and Colin would have found an excuse to leave the house and fence, or even Eloise could have been convinced to escape to the gardens for a time. But now, all his older siblings were paired in their various relationships and friendships, and Benedict didn’t like feeling sorry for himself, but perhaps he did know where his melancholy came from and was unprepared to admit it.
Kate’s victorious laughter rang across the room as she apparently bested Anthony, and Benedict looked over to see his brother gazing adoringly at his wife, and Benedict wanted to roll his eyes but quite honestly, it was heartwarming to see how happy Anthony had become.
‘Benedict!’ Kate called. ‘Come play a round, perhaps you can give me the challenge your brother cannot.’
Benedict gave her a grin and went to play, hoping it would help shake his mood away.
***
‘Benedict, do please take your sister to the dance floor and ensure our funding in lessons has not gone to waste, seeing as she refuses to dance with anyone who is not closely related by birth.’ Violet’s tone was, as always, frustrated, affectionate, and deliberately calm, all at once.
It was a week past Gregory’s departure to school and Benedict’s mood had not improved.
‘It has certainly been wasted, there can be no doubt about that,’ he muttered, and his mother glared at him. The whole point of having sisters at a marriageable age was to draw his mother’s attention away from himself, Benedict had thought. Instead, he was increasingly finding himself used as a prop in their mother’s schemes. Still, better to be a prop than to have his mother’s attention focused on him, as she had done to Anthony last year. He sighed and held an arm out to Eloise, who looked at him like he was offering her a venomous snake.
‘Come , sister, let us dance and hopefully, if your timing has not improved, you will step on my foot and break my toes and save me from dancing again this entire season.’
‘Just for that, Benedict, I will endeavour to be the best dance partner you have ever had, and cause not a single injury to anyone in the reel.’
Benedict steered them into a position on the opposite side of the floor to Miss Cowper. He wouldn’t have put it past her to deliberately trip Eloise and he didn’t actually want any injuries tonight, he was due at a party later in the evening.
‘I can’t help but feel we may have outsmarted ourselves here. Neither of us want to be dancing and yet here we are, declaring we will be the best?’
‘Would you prefer me to be the worst?’ Eloise asked. ‘I am quite certain that can be arranged.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Benedict said. ‘Mother is still watching.’
Eloise rolled her eyes but did her best not to step on his feet as they started to move. ‘Since we do have some time to speak,’ she said, still looking down at her toes, and Benedict knew she was counting in her mind. ‘Are you feeling well, brother? You have not seemed yourself recently.’
‘I am not feeling myself, I suppose. I feel stuck,’ he said. ‘Everyone else is changing so rapidly and here I am, back in the same place I was three years ago.’
Eloise looked at him, her gaze intelligent and serious. ‘What have you told us - if you are only seeing the same view, find a new perspective? Perhaps this is the same situation - if you are in need of a change, then do something different. You say you can’t find inspiration in your usual subjects, so perhaps you need a new subject.’
The music came to an end and he escorted Eloise off the dance floor. ‘Well then,’ she said. ‘I have done my duty, I have danced and I have solved your artistic crisis. I am going to go and find a corner to hide in. Have a lovely evening, brother.’
Do something different. Make a change. Bring back his artistic inspiration. Assuage his increasing feelings of loneliness. Eloise was speaking of his art but could the same answer solve both his issues? Benedict looked around the room. Perhaps he, too, should consider finding a dance partner who was not closely related by birth or marriage. To do so would invite scrutiny, from both mother and sisters to other interfering meddlers in the room, but perhaps it would be worth it? He carefully considered the ladies, all of which he’d duly been introduced to, and had promptly forgotten.
‘Benedict, be a dear and dance with Edwina, please.’ It was not a request from Kate but a command as she came and stood next to him, and he rolled his eyes at his sister-in-law.
‘Edwina has plenty of suitors,’ he said in a tone that was certainly not a whine.
‘That is precisely my point,’ she said. She was not exactly pushing him, but she was certainly holding his elbow and directing his steps towards Edwina, who was currently standing at the edge of the dancefloor, looking rather awkward as she spoke with - oh, of course, Lord Fife.
‘Fine,’ he sighed. He understood the urgency of rescuing Edwina now but that didn’t mean he would make it easy on Kate. ‘I will dance with your sister, but only because of the miracles you have worked on my brother’s disposition.’
‘Thank you, Benedict,’ Kate said in a sing-song voice and he laughed to himself as he headed to the dancefloor.
‘Edwina, sister dear, I believe they’re playing our song,’ Benedict cut in over Lord Fife’s droning voice without a hint of remorse. He was gratified to see Edwina’s eyes spark to life with humour and no small amount of relief.
‘Oh, Mr Bridgerton, I believe you are correct! Will you please excuse me, my lord, but I have indeed promised Mr Bridgerton a dance whenever this song is played.’
Fife acquiesced without a grumble, confirming to Benedict that the man had no interest in Edwina beyond her new connections, and he led Edwina to the floor with a flourish.
‘You were rather quick to stretch the truth there, Edwina,’ Benedict said.
‘You started it, Mr Bridgerton, I merely confirmed your lie!’
‘It’s Benedict, honestly, there are too many of us to bother with the honorifics, especially for family. And what is family if not someone who will happily lie in service of the greater good?’
‘That is a rather mercenary view of family,’ Edwina said with a slight giggle, ‘although I suppose it is accurate, given the history of our two families.’
Benedict winced. He hadn’t meant to drag the conversation back to the drama of the past season. Edwina noticed his expression and patted his arm where she still held it as they twirled around.
‘It is of no matter now, Benedict,’ she said reassuringly. ‘None of us were particularly honest last season but I have come to accept that all the lies were, in fact, in service of the greater good, as you put it.’
‘Still,’ Benedict said. ‘I feel that, on behalf of all the elder Bridgertons who are not Anthony, we do owe you an apology. We encouraged him to continue with his charade when we should have been convincing him to examine his true feelings, and you were the one who suffered for it. I am sorry, Edwina, for our part in that whole mess.’
‘Your apology is accepted, and forgiven,’ she said, ‘although I will maintain it was unnecessary.’
‘On to more pleasant topics, then. How are you finding the new season - without the pressure of your time as the Diamond?’
‘Honestly, it is much more agreeable. At first it seemed like such an honour, but eventually it just felt more like a burden.’ Edwina spoke quickly, then looked shocked with herself. ‘Oh! Please don’t think I’m not grateful, of course!’
Benedict gave a laugh. ‘Of course not. You forget, I had front row seats to the Diamond parade as well. I saw the pressure Daphne felt, I imagine you must have been feeling somewhat the same, although - and I don’t mean to be rude - you seem to have stepped back from finding a suitor?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is rather a relief. I’m not sure if you heard about the disastrous dinner party and arrangement my sister had with my grandparents, but now that they have withdrawn their support, the Viscount has offered to sponsor my mother and I for as many seasons as it takes, he has said.’
Benedict spun Edwina away, then pulled her back in. ‘It’s the very least he can do,’ he said, winking at her, and she giggled.
‘It is very kind of him, regardless. I do feel better knowing I do not have to be rushed into a decision, particularly since rushing into decisions seems to have been my raison d’etre since we arrived in London. I appreciate the time to consider my future carefully now, and to really think about what I want in a husband and our union.’
‘Yes,’ Benedict said. ‘I think I understand. A marriage should be a partnership, should it not, and that should be considered carefully.’ That was certainly what Kate and Anthony had found. The music came to an end, and Benedict gave Edwina a bow as she curtsied back. ‘Some refreshments, perhaps?’ he offered, leading her towards the lemonade, and she followed, still talking.
‘I wonder if perhaps I might call on the assistance of your brothers and yourself during the rest of this season,’ she was saying as he handed her a glass. They stepped back from the table into a quiet corner, close enough to her mother and his so as to not raise any eyebrows, but distant enough to talk privately.
‘Kate is wonderfully terrifying, of course, and I intend to make it known that I will still be relying on her approval, but I did find that we were at a disadvantage when it came to truly knowing the gentlemen of London. Research in newsletters is not enough, I fear, and I do not want to continue making the same mistakes. If I was to ask your opinion of anyone who showed interest in me, would you offer it honestly and freely?’
‘Of course I would,’ Benedict said, touched and honoured. ‘No less than I would for Eloise or Francesca. And if I do not know the gentleman, one of my brothers will, or one of our trusted friends. You shall not be alone, Edwina, nor shall Kate. I am very pleased you thought to ask, although I hope you know you do not need to ask.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It is very kind of you.’
He gave her a nod, and then, as he saw Colin appear, said, ‘I shall leave you with our mamas, Edwina, if you’ll excuse me, it seems Colin needs me.’
As Edwina turned away, Colin grabbed Benedict’s elbow. ‘Brother,’ he said, pushing Benedict out towards the dance floor. ‘Go dance with Penelope.’
‘Dance with Penelope, dance with Edwina, dance with Eloise,’ Benedict grumbled. ‘Why must I be the one to solve everyone’s social misfortunes?’
‘She must appear desirable,’ Colin said, urgently pushing at Benedict. ‘I cannot dance with her, so you must.’
‘She is desirable,’ Benedict said, ‘and you simply appear desperate. Stop pushing at me, I am going!’
He made his way across to Penelope, who did indeed look lovely in an emerald gown, properly fitted and simply accessorised, and Benedict would have been surprised to learn her dance card was not full, had he not witnessed Colin intimidating every would-be suitor who looked her way. He supposed his brother had a plan of some sort, but it clearly did not involve Miss Featherington actually dancing with any of the men looking longingly at her.
‘I am sorry you have been dragged into Colin’s scheme,’ Penelope said as he escorted her to the floor.
‘I am not,’ Benedict said cheerfully, for as annoyed as he was with his family, it was not Penelope’s fault, and he would not let her see his disgruntled mood. ‘It is always a pleasure to dance with you, Penelope.’
‘Still,’ she said, as they began to dance. ‘I know it is an obligation you cannot refuse, and so I apologise.’
Benedict grinned down at her. It was an obligation, but he and his brothers had happily taken on this duty since Penelope’s first season, even if one of the three had been more enthusiastic than the other two. They’d come to learn that dancing with Penelope was far preferable than dancing with many of the other young ladies of the ton.
‘Nonsense,’ he said again. A change, Eloise had said. Do something different. A new subject. Perhaps he could start here. ‘Although if you do feel as though you must make it up to me, perhaps we can agree upon an exchange of services?’
‘Services, sir?’ Penelope’s eyes twinkled in the muted lights of the ballroom and Benedict would be sorely tempted to snap her up for himself if he wasn’t half convinced Colin was in love with the girl.
He froze. What? Did he truly just think that? He found himself staring at Penelope and she was starting to look concerned.
‘Benedict?’ she was asking, and he mentally shook himself. He could examine this errant thought later.
‘Bartering is a far more convenient currency than pounds,’ he said, bringing himself back to the conversation and lowering his voice conspiratorially, and Penelope leaned in just a fraction to hear him. He caught a hint of her rose scent and stored that away in the same locked corner of his mind.
‘Name your price, then, Mr Bridgerton,’ she said, and she was enjoying this just as much as he.
He sighed dramatically. ‘You see, Miss Featherington, my siblings are all utterly useless at - well, sitting still and being quiet.’ Penelope laughed and Benedict couldn’t help joining her. ‘Yes, yes, it’s all very amusing when they are running around beating each other up with pall mall mallets,’ he said, dropping the theatrics, ‘but less helpful when I need an artist’s model. I have been having trouble finding inspiration recently, but perhaps a new perspective - a new subject - is called for. Can I entreat you to visit Bridgerton House sometime this week and sit very still and very quietly for me? I will ask Kate to issue the invitation properly and I am sure she will stay for the duration.’
‘Are you sure you want me?’ she asked, a little hesitantly, and he squeezed her hand once, a silent gesture of support that no one else would notice.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You’re lovely, Penelope, you will make a delightful subject. I might even allow you to keep some of the sketches. Perhaps make a gift of one to any gentleman callers?’
She blushed. ‘I do not anticipate having any gentleman callers, Benedict.’
‘Well,’ he said, drawing a little closer and lowering his voice. ‘There is at least one gentleman who has not taken his eyes off you since he begged me to come and dance with you.’
‘That does not signify, and you know it,’ Penelope said. ‘He does not have any interest in me, he has made that perfectly clear.’
‘I would never mean to contradict a lady,’ Benedict said, ‘but Colin has never been particularly adept at making anything clear.’
‘Perhaps,’ Penelope said. ‘But perhaps not. It has been lovely dancing with you, Mr Bridgerton.’ She gave a curtsy as the music came to an end. ‘Do speak with Kate, and tell her I would be happy to accept her kind invitation.’
Benedict watched her walk back to her mother’s side, although Lady Featherington seemed to only be concerned with Prudence’s prospects (of which there were very few).
He took himself out to the gardens, wondering if he could sneak a cigarette. He had two things to consider. Could Penelope be right - was Colin really not interested in her? Benedict knew their mother had always assumed that Colin would marry Penelope one day, but Colin had always been immature and flighty and perhaps his apparent interest in Penelope really had only been a friendship between young people on the verge of adulthood.
And if that was true, what of Benedict and his sudden realisation?
He was aware that with Anthony’s marriage, the eyes of the ton were on him for the next Bridgerton wedding, and over the last few months, watching Anthony’s obvious joy in his wife and his marriage, Benedict could no longer deny to himself he wanted what his brother had. He wanted a wife. He wanted a partner. He wanted love.
Penelope had always been around, it seemed, but equally, he’d always thought her interesting and captivating. She had a quiet, biting humour that she only showed very occasionally, a fierce intelligence and a strength of character that was apparent given both her ability to put up with Eloise, but also the fact that she’d kept pace with Eloise all these years. It was a friendship of equals and Benedict knew there were very few people who could measure up to his brilliant sister.
But Benedict had always classified her in his mind as ‘Colin’s’, and had refused to entertain any further thoughts of her. If that were not true, then perhaps he would have to reassess his own interest. And quickly, if she was on the hunt for a husband this season.
***