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You had known the Bridgertons since you were eight years old, since running into him accidentally in front of his London home. You were racing your brother to a lampost and looking over your shoulder, not noticing the young Benedict Bridgerton in your path. He was a year older than you, making the closest Bridgerton sibling to you in age which caused you to gravitate towards him. Though, the lovely Edmund and Violet and their children also became family to you.
Both of you quickly became each other’s confidantes, sharing everything with the other. Your hatred of the life you lived, like a caged bird dying to be set free and his complete adoration for art despite rarely ever being happy with his work.
Then came the season you debuted, the season when you, well your mother, would begin a search for a life-long partner. Your father knew of many women who were unmarried and lived happy, fulfilling, (financially secure) lives and had no trouble with you remaining unmarried as long as you were happy and safe. Your mother was horrified upon your father’s commentary on the matter and quickly began searching for a man of good standing.
You weren’t excited by the prospect, but Anthony and your father had many connections, ensuring that any man who showed an interest in you were good men. The secret you held was that you were in love with Benedict, your friend, your confidante, the man who supported you in so many ways. It took you a Season and then part of another to realize he felt the same way. That’s how you started taking promenades together every morning at 10 o’clock.
It was of course common courtesy for gentlemen to bring flowers when calling upon a lady, but when Ben started asking to take you for a promenade, a little more than a month into your official courtship, he made a show of it.
The first time he asked for a promenade was a brisk Monday morning. Your mother agreed to chaperone for you. You, of course, agreed to go and watched him poorly try to hide them behind his back until you were out for a walk.
He pulled the bouquet of lilies from behind his back explaining each of the colors and how one complemented your eyes beautifully. He went on about how each color made sense with the others and you just fell in love with him more for this little display of color interest and knowledge. You happily took them from him and they quickly found their way onto your bedside table.
The second time he brought roses. You had just begun the walk along the path when he pulled them from behind his back before simply stating they were roses, and he didn’t feel he needed much explanation beyond that. You happily took them and they ended up next to the lilies from the previous day.
The third day he brought you a single cut sunflower, poetically explaining how you were like a bright beautiful sunflower in his life leaving you blushing and laughing at the same time. Once again, the flower found itself in your room next to the flowers from the days prior.
The fourth day he waited a little longer along your promenade to reveal the flowers to you, despite you knowing they were there because he did a horrible job of hiding them. That day he brought a bouquet of Campanulas. “My mother tells me they are meant to symbolize affection,” is what he had said, though he looked almost skeptical which made you chuckle. They didn’t even need to have some symbolic meaning to you, they had a beauty of their own. That morning you took a slightly longer walk than usual quietly discussing some poetry you were walking on. Quietly being key because your mother was your chaperone that morning and your mother might have thrown arms.
The fifth day, at the usual time, Ben was asking for a promenade with you. And as usual he was poorly hiding a bouquet of flowers behind his back revealing them after making your way onto the path. It was a collection of daisies. He felt, while they seemed simple, they held beauty of their own and he almost seemed to fumble over his words as he said you had a beauty of your own which had you blushing.
It’s the would-be sixth day of taking a promenade at ten o’clock with Benedict and he arrives on time, asking, as usual, for a promenade with you and it would seem it is Violet’s turn to act as your chaperone. Everything is as it usually is, and while perhaps it is stupid, you are a bit disappointed to not see a poorly hidden set of flowers in his hands, in-fact he is holding nothing.
You smile and he leads you towards the path you usually walk along. The weather is a bit cloudy, but still nice enough to find people out and spending time together and you are deep in thought when Benedict suddenly stops walking. You take a few steps before realizing he is not moving from where he is standing.
“You must have noticed I have no flowers in my hands today to offer you.” He clears his throat.
“Ben, are you quite alright?” You take a step towards him and he takes one of your gloved hands and places a gentle kiss to the back of it.
“Yes.” He clears his throat. “Quite alright.” He doesn’t let go of your hand though. He pauses a moment, almost squinting, still not letting go of your hand.
You look over at his mother who is a few feet behind, though not directly looking at you. Your heart is certainly racing, but you haven’t removed your hand from his grasp.
He then slowly pulls a small box from his pocket and he looks at you, a smile that walks the line of a smirk, plastered on his face as he dramatically gets himself onto one knee. “You must forgive me, I am nearly twenty and my agility is getting poorer and poorer.”
You gasp quietly as he slowly gets onto his knee, trying not to jump up and down and scream, holding a hand over your mouth to help. You swear your heart rate is going a million beats a minute. You let out a laugh at his dramatic groan as he gets onto one knee and the words that proceed.
“Y/N. In most situations I believe I know exactly what to say. Perhaps I should ask instead. Will you–”
“Yes!” You say excitedly, before he can even ask. You can’t hold it in, but he puts a finger up.
“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask!” He lets out a sharp, short laugh before taking a deep breath. “I love you. I want to marry you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes, Benedict Bridgerton. I will marry you.”