Work Text:
Three Weeks Later
Benedict had accepted that they had to return to London; they could simply stay in My Cottage (Our Cottage - he now supposed) no longer. They had a further three weeks of bliss; enjoying each other’s company, talking, learning. He had a folder of sketches behind him of portraits of the woman beside him, and landscapes - which happened to often feature a dark haired figure hidden within.
“Bridgerton House?” Sophie said in surprise as he pulled the horses to a halt.
“You know it?” He asked with a smile. He hadn’t considered she would know where he lived, though he had never managed to pry out the knowledge of where she had worked before the Cavender household.
“Everyone knows the Bridgerton House,” she explained. It was one of the most beautiful houses in Mayfair, never anything out of place - even the flowers grew as they were instructed. The family were said to be good people and their staff always seemed happy when seen in public. Perhaps it was all a facade but it didn’t stop other household staff wishing they worked for a family like the Bridgertons.
“Good.” He passed the horses to a footman and stepped on to the ground. He liked around the front and put up his hand to help Sophie down as it appeared the other footman was not going to.
“I can’t go in there,” she said, brushing her dress down. It was lemon coloured, one of the few he’d insisted she buy in Rosemead. Even if there were plenty of Daphne and Eloise’s dresses in the cottage he wanted her to have something of her own.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m -” He looked at her and pointed a finger warningly.
“Don’t. You’re Sophie. My Sophie.”
“But-”
“I don’t want to hear it. Come on.” He didn’t take her hand but kept glancing back to make sure she was following him up the steps.
“This is it. Home,” he said, motioning around the large entrance hall. Sophie glanced around as the squeaking of slippers against polished wood was heard.
“Well if it isn’t my son, who mastered the art of disappearing,” Violet said, holding out her arms.
“Hello Mother.” Benedict kissed her cheek with a smile. Violet then turned to look at Sophie, who was looking around rather nervously.
“Lady Bridgerton. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Sophie Baek, My Lady.” She bobbed a curtsy as Violet place a hand on her son’s arm.
“Would you excuse us a moment?” She led Benedict away to where they could talk in private.
“You mustn’t have received the response to my letter. I’m afraid there’s no positions at present.. And furthermore Mrs Wilson had heard this girl isn’t to be trusted.” Violet looked past her son at the girl he wanted her to hire as a maid. She didn't notice the shake of his head.
“Don’t pay heed to rumours Mother. I trust her explicitly,” he said. He pulled up his shirt to show the remains of his wound. “She saved my life. She nursed me back to health, along with Mrs Crabtree.”
“Oh Benedict, what happened?” Violet gasped.
“A long story. Anyway she no longer needs a job.” He turned to smile at her then looked back to his mother, who raised an eyebrow - unsure where this conversation was going.
“Are you certain? Perhaps a lady’s maid for the girls?” Violet considered.
“Or a sister perhaps?” He suggested, a devilish smile appearing on his face. Her eyebrows shot up.
“Benedict Bridgerton,” she hissed.
“Oh Mother, do not fret. Nothing untoward has happened.” In its entirety. “She is My Sophie.”
“Have you taken this girl as your mistress?” She said it quietly, gripping his arm so hard it would bruise. Surely her son wouldn’t do that; wouldn’t bring a woman of that sort to the family home.
“No. She deserves more. I wish to marry her. Benedict looked at Sophie, chatting with Mrs Wilson, and then back at his mother.
“You wish to marry a maid?”
“Yes.”