Work Text:
Violet can't quite understand how or why Benedict has seemingly taken a deep interest in the Bridgerton House, and yet here he was, sitting with her and Mrs. Wilson for their discussion of things related to running it.
"Benedict," she'd gently said, trying to dissuade him from joining them, "I don't think--"
"I am filling in for the Viscount, am I not, Mother?" he'd responded brightly. "Thus, I do believe the matters of this household currently concern me." Benedict then turned to their housekeeper and said, "Speak freely as always, Mrs. Wilson. You may even pretend I am not here, if doing so would make you feel more at ease."
Mrs. Wilson only raised a brow at his antics before turning to Violet for her say in the matter.
She merely sighed and motioned with her hand before saying, "Very well, then. You may begin, Mrs. Wilson."
The housekeeper took a breath, then began talking.
Their discussion covered routinary, ordinary household subjects, such as acquiring the newest fabrics for the girls' dresses, sourcing fresh flowers for the rooms in the house (it was only then that Violet learned about Benedict's latest directive of including the kitchen and the servants' quarters as places where flowers should be displayed - and at this he had the grace to look mildly abashed, telling her, 'I'd pay for them, do not worry about it'), their depleting supply of linens, then cutlery, meats, and the like. Then they moved on to the household staff - their health, who was scheduled to temporarily leave for the country, who would replace them in the meantime, and some such.
At some point, Benedict looked bored out of his wits. Violet was about to excuse him when Mrs. Wilson said, "There is something peculiar about one of our staff, Ma'am. The new girl, Sophie. Or rather, her situation before Mr. Bridgerton brought her here."
Violet opens her mouth to ask about it, but Benedict, who has suddenly woken from his stupor, somehow manages to speak first: "Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Wilson? Is she unhappy? Is-is she unwell?"
Mrs. Wilson seems surprised by the direct questions, but did her best to appear as though she wasn't. "Not to my knowledge, no. But, there had been some... talks in the kitchen, Sir," she carefully adds, looking from him to Violet and back again, "about her potentially being mistreated, before."
"At the Cavender House?" Violet sharply asks, turning to Benedict. "Didn't you say--"
"The cad had been most unkind to her, yes," he replies, pulling at his mouth. "If I hadn't been there--"
And, perhaps she was merely imagining things, but she could have sworn the expression of her mild-mannered, jovial Benedict had turned... dour.
Almost vicious.
For a moment, it was like Violet couldn't even recognize her own son's face.
Thankfully, Mrs. Wilson chooses that moment to clear her throat, pulling Violet's attention away from Benedict. "I believe the murmurings were about the household before the Cavenders."
Silence.
"You mean she had been treated far worse there?" Benedict asks.
The housekeeper sniffs. "Well, apparently, in that house, Sophie did the job of four maids. All at once."
Violet startles. "Oh, good heavens. How did the poor girl manage all that?"
Meanwhile, beside her, Benedict has gone utterly, completely still.
Mrs. Wilson leans closer to her. "What's worse, Ma'am, is that she seems to have done so without receiving any form of payment in return."
An even lengthier silence prevailed among them, this time.
"She did them all... for free?" Violet clarifies, horrified.
Mrs. Wilson shrugs and says, "If the talks are to be believed, then... yes. It would seem so."
Violet feels it, then - an almost illogical surge of anger on behalf of the poor maid both Eloise and Hyacinth have become so fond of. Of the girl she, herself, has grown quite partial to. She moves to her feet, wanting desperately to pace, but stopping herself just in time. "That is not-- oh, poor, poor Sophie. Perhaps this... household had learned that she is all alone here, and had thought it most prudent to take advantage of her situation, and of her kindness and skills. Perhaps they're the ones who besmirched her name in the ton! Oh, that poor girl!"
"And do these talks cover which family did this to her?" Benedict asks, his tone carefully neutral.
Mrs. Wilson shrugs. "I had asked the same question, Sir. However, it seemed Sophie was quite adamant in her refusal to mention any names."
Violet sinks to her chair again with a sigh. "Well, that is understandable. Perhaps she remains afraid of them."
"Afraid of them?" Benedict repeats, surging to his feet this time. Unlike Violet, her son gives in to the need to pace about the room, almost shaking as he does. "Why should she be afraid, Mother? She is under our protection, is she not? For as long as she remains here--"
"Yes, but she is still a maid, Benedict," Violet says, as if that explains everything.
And perhaps, it did.
"If she has angered quite a powerful family for whatever reason, then it is unsurprising that a person of her standing remains cautious of her actions. Even if she is now working for us," she continues, in what she hopes was a placating tone. "I regard her all the better for it, honestly. At least now we know she has... restraint."
Benedict merely looks at her, and his expression, just then--
...Oh.
Oh no.
"They treated her like a-- like she's nothing but an ordinary slave, and we're supposed to do nothing?" he asks her quietly.
Violet exchanges concerned glances with the housekeeper.
Who clears her throat - again - and says, "If I may speak so plainly, Sir. The truth is, we don't know the exact circumstances surrounding Sophie's predicament. For all we know, these rumors could be false. And, for as long as we are not able to substantiate any of them, then I believe it is wise to keep treating this information as nothing more than kitchen gossip."
"Yes," Violet replies with a nod. "Indeed, you are right, Mrs. Wilson. After all, what else can we do if Sophie herself is unwilling to confirm them?"
Benedict places his hand on his hips. "If there is one thing Penelope and her whole Lady Whistledown business had taught me, it is that gossip is based on truth. And if the gossip of Sophie being mistreated elsewhere is true--"
"Benedict."
Meaning: control yourself.
Violet rarely uses this tone of voice with her second eldest.
Well, this month, if she were honest.
But she thought it apt to utilize it now.
Her ploy seems to work, however, as her son's disposition visibly deflates.
"I--" He closes his mouth, then tries again, "--I am merely concerned, Mother. I brought her here. Therefore, I feel as though it is my responsibility to fix whatever issue she's embroiled in. After all, if not for that, then both you and Mrs. Wilson would have remained blissfully unaware of Sophie's... affairs."
"Concerned," Violet echoes softly, inclining her head. "Of course. How thoughtful of you."
Silence.
Benedict glances at the door, then turns to her and says, "Well. I think I've heard enough about the matters of Bridgerton House. If anyone needs me, I shall be in my room to... ruminate."
And then, before Violet can even respond to that, he exits the drawing room rather hastily.
Leaving her and Mrs. Wilson rather... befuddled.
Violet uses her fingers to massage her temple. If she didn't know any better, she'd think Benedict's actions now are because--
"Should I fetch you your tea, Ma'am?" Mrs. Wilson asks.
She shakes her head. "No, no, thank you. I shall have it later with Eloise and Hyacinth."
Pause.
And then Violet sighs.
"I do admit, this whole thing with Sophie has me... concerned. Like my son." In more ways than one, really. "Perhaps, Mrs. Wilson, you can employ ways to find out the truth? For my peace of mind. And Benedict's, as well."
Mrs. Wilson straightens and bows before her. "Very well, Lady Bridgerton. I shall see what I can do."
She reaches forward to squeeze her housekeeper's arm. "Thank you."
The door closes behind Mrs. Wilson, and Violet is left alone with the echo of the conversation.
She finds herself thinking less of gossip and more of Benedict’s reaction to it - sharp, raw, and unguarded in a way she had never seen before.
Sophie’s past may be uncertain, but Violet is quite certain of one thing:
Benedict is far more entangled in the maid's affairs than he cares to admit.