Work Text:
"Being a mistress is the last thing I would ever want," Sophie told him.
Alfie had hated how miserable she's been. And it was like the joy of their reunion was replaced by a thundercloud of sadness, and all because of one Benedict Bridgerton.
Unknowingly, it was the day that name started sounding like a vile curse in Alfie's head.
It's owned by the person who’d hurt Sophie, after all.
All's well that ends well, however. Not that Alfie should be surprised; Sophie Baek is one of the most brilliant people he's ever met in his entire life. If ever there was someone who could make marrying a gentleman work, it'd be her.
Even if said gentleman is named Benedict Bridgerton.
Who, consequently, also happens to be whisking her away to live in the countryside to protect her from the ton's never-ending tongue wagging. Which, Alfie has to admit, was very nice and very considerate of him.
Even if it is the very least he could do for her.
"Does this mean we'll never see you again, Sophie?" Alfie asks her, his voice soft. And suddenly it feels just like that night all over again, when Lady Penwood had so unfairly banished her from her own house. The night he felt so angry yet so helpless to do anything for his friend.
Except this time, instead of lost and hopeless, she looks so happy. Radiant, even.
Irma nudges his arm with her elbow and shakes her head. "That doesn't matter now. All that's important is her happiness, isn't it?" She then takes Sophie's hands in her own and squeezes them. "For so long, you've been denied it, child. It’s high time you live the life you rightfully deserve."
"Oh, Irma," Sophie says, her eyes shining, before turning to him, too. "Alfie. You two have always been my dearest friends. I would not want to face this newest chapter of my life without you, and so I was thinking..."
"--What?" Alfie asks, his heart racing, for some reason. "What is it?"
And then Sophie Baek - no, Bridgerton, now - smiles at them.
"How would you like to come with me to the countryside?"
Deciding on the matter wasn't hard, really. After all, there was no reason to stay with the Penwoods - not after they had been utterly, most deservedly ruined by Violet Bridgerton for their vile behavior towards Sophie. All except for Posy, who was willingly taken in by the Bridgertons as their ward, saving her from the fate that befell both her horrid mother and equally horrid sister.
Leaving their cursed household was perhaps the singular most joyous thing Alfie had done in the last five years.
"Of course," Sophie was saying now, "you don't really have to work for us or--"
"Oh, nonsense, child." Then Irma pauses and grins. "I mean, Miss Sophie. Alfie and I will work for you and Mr. Bridgerton; there’s no doubt about it. After all, this is how things were supposed to be, if only that... that woman hadn't interfered with your father's will."
Alfie nods. "What she said. Besides, how else are we supposed to earn a living, eh? And I really think working for you wouldn't feel much like working at all."
Sophie laughs. "You both know I will never be as ruthless as Araminta or as rude as Rosamund. You have my word."
"But you're a lady now," he tells her, nudging her arm. "Wouldn't you be expected to be all snooty and condescending to us lowerfolk, like they were?"
She loops her arm around his and says, "Oh, I would never! And you may pinch me once I do start acting like that."
Alfie laughs. "There's the sincere, smart Sophie I know."
She pinches him in return. "Whatever do you mean? She never left!"
"And your husband, Mr. Bridgerton?" Irma asks eagerly. "What should we expect from him?"
Despite himself, Alfie leans forward to hear the answer.
Here, Sophie's whole expression softens. "Oh, he is the kindest, most sincere gentleman you'll ever meet," she blurts out. "We know the measure of a person is often in the way they treat those that society considers beneath them, don't we? Well. Mr. Bridge-- I mean, Benedict, is easily the favorite of the servants in Bridgerton House. Ask anyone. Literally anyone. While I worked there, he made sure we ate cakes and drank the best tea and even had fresh flowers brought into our rooms every week. He is simply--"
And then she stops. "What?" Sophie pats her cheeks and says, "Is there something on my face?"
"Nothing!" Irma replies with a sigh, hands folded over her heart. "It's just-- it's wonderful seeing you so in love."
"It's like we're meeting gushy, girly Sophie for the first time," Alfie says, frowning comically. "And I don't think I like her very much."
Sophie simply pinches him again. "You'd better get used to her then!" she replies with a laugh.
Meeting Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree was delightful. Irma and Mrs. Crabtree were soon speaking like old friends, and Alfie found Mr. Crabtree easy to get along with - if a little too afraid of his wife.
And the house? Was immaculate - though it being named 'My Cottage' felt like a grave misstep of sorts, considering it does not look like one.
Really, relocating to the countryside and working for Sophie was probably the best thing to ever happen to Alfie--
--if only he could learn to set aside his great dislike for Benedict Bridgerton.
Who, to be fair, was all smiley and good-natured and welcoming to both Alfie and Irma when they arrived. He was right beside Sophie as they showed them their rooms and all the parts of their new home. He was right beside Sophie when they had dinner at My Cottage for the first time.
In fact, it seemed like he was right beside Sophie every single day.
"You don't think it's odd?" Alfie whispers to Irma, well outside of Mrs. Crabtree's earshot. "He's practically attached to her hip!"
Irma tuts at him. "That is to be expected, Alfie. They are newlyweds!" she hisses, as if that explains everything.
And perhaps, it should.
Still, it irks Alfie anyway. Whenever he wants to speak to Sophie alone, Benedict Bridgerton is there. Whenever Sophie's roaming around the house in search of something to do with her hands ("A lady of the house shouldn't do housework!" says Mrs. Crabtree, sounding very aggrieved indeed), Benedict Bridgerton is there. Whenever Sophie's chatting with Mrs. Crabtree and Irma, Benedict Bridgerton is there, and--
"Is he not part of the aristocracy?" Alfie grouses to Irma yet again, on a different day. "Why is he always here, instead of being away or in the city with the other Lords?"
"Bite your tongue, Alfie! You have no right to ask such things!" she replies sharply. "Remember your place. Remember why we are here."
"Because Sophie herself wants us here," he responds, his arms crossed. "That's why."
"Yes, but this is still his home. One that he opened to us because of his great love for her - something he did not have to do, by the way, as all he needs are already here."
Alfie raises his chin at Irma and says, "That only proves my point, you know, that we are here because of Sophie. Not because of--" Here he scrunches his face in great distaste, "--Benedict Bridgerton."
Irma rubs her temple. "I really do not understand your dislike for the man. He loves Sophie; you and I can see it, plain as day. He will do anything for her."
"Yes, well. If that were true, perhaps he should not have hurt her in the first place," he says under his breath.
"What was that, Alfie?"
"Nothing." He then places a big smile on his face to appease the older woman. "Nothing at all."
Of course, Alfie does not let his dislike for the owner of the house get in the way of his duties. Not only because of his love and gratitude for Sophie, but also because he's learned long ago that he's free to feel things for as long as he does not become sloppy with his work. After all, what the servants felt never mattered to their masters in the slightest - until it became an inconvenience.
Only then does it become a problem.
In doing his tasks, it does not escape his notice that Benedict Bridgerton is indeed very... kind to his servants.
When Mrs. Crabtree had suddenly fallen ill, it was he and Sophie who fussed over the older woman like mother hens, serving her food, coaxing her to eat, and disallowing her from doing any sort of chores, even the lightest ones. Very different from when Lady Penwood had harshly insisted that Irma keep on working, even if the latter was obviously feeling extremely under the weather.
And then there was the time he found out that Irma was to celebrate her birthday the following month. Benedict Bridgerton had insisted she take at least two weeks off to spend the occasion with her family, making sure that all her expenses were paid for before she left - fare, wages, everything.
Sophie had looked at him like he'd hung the moon for her when she realized what he'd done.
As for Alfie...
Benedict Bridgerton began asking him his opinion on... things.
"Alfie, how familiar are you with horses? I was thinking of acquiring a new one for the stables and am hoping you could--"
"You've known my wife for so long, Alfie. Does she favor any particular wine or cake or--"
"I know she’s well-read, Alfie, but have you any idea what kind of books she's keen on--"
And because Alfie values his job here, he does his best to answer every question with a polite yet distant smile. The exact one he wears around Rosamund, even at her snootiest.
"Not much, Sir. Good day."
"She likes sweet ones, Mr. Bridgerton."
"Sophie favors books containing many words, I believe. Now, if you'll excuse me--"
These responses were succinct and perfectly perfunctory because truthfully, members of the ton rarely care about the opinions of those beneath them, and Alfie is certain Benedict Bridgerton is the same way. He could talk about the breeds of horses that would survive well in the countryside, or the exact amount of sugar Sophie likes in her food, or the topics and subjects that interest her greatly. However, at the end of the day, he would just be wasting both their time. In the end, Benedict Bridgerton would no doubt disregard Alfie's words and follow his own judgment.
Because that is just what members of the ton do.
After saying the words, Alfie expects to be easily dismissed - the same way he'd been before.
Except Benedict Bridgerton actually says, "Wait, Alfie."
And he does.
Interestingly enough, Benedict Bridgerton looks rather uncomfortable as he stands in the middle of the room, facing him. "Have I done something to offend you?" he asks bluntly.
Alfie can only blink at him. "Sir?"
"It's just--" Here, Benedict Bridgerton crosses his arms, but does not look angry at all. Merely… curious. "It might just be my imagination, but I feel as though you do not particularly… like me."
Oh no.
Oh no.
He's about to lose his job, isn't he?
Good going, Alfie!
He clears his throat then. "Mr. Bridgerton--"
The man must sense Alfie's distress because he waves his hand and says, "Feel free to tell me the truth. I will not hold it against you; you have my word."
Well.
Well.
Still, Alfie says, "I doubt my answer would matter much to you, Sir, considering I'm only a servant."
Here, Benedict Bridgerton merely smiles at him. "Have you forgotten who it is that I married?"
But that is entirely different! "Of course not. I could never!"
And Benedict Bridgerton adds, sounding completely genuine, "Believe me, your answer will matter to me. You are, after all, one of Sophie's dearest friends. For that alone, I hold both you and Irma in high regard."
...well.
That was certainly... unexpected. A member of the ton holding him in high regard?
Completely unheard of.
Still, despite the praise, it seems as though Benedict Bridgerton would not let the matter go. And, if Alfie were to lose his job over this, then he might as well take the opportunity to be truthful.
It was not as if he had any choice in the matter, anyway.
"We are fortunate to be counted as Sophie's dearest friends, Sir. The three of us have endured a lot under Lady Penwood’s care. More than you or anyone could possibly imagine. And that is precisely why I never want to see her sad or hurt, ever again." Here, he pauses. "Especially if it is caused by the man she loves above all else. She doesn’t deserve it."
Silence.
And Benedict Bridgerton's expression completely shifts. "You think I will hurt her?"
"You have. You did," Alfie replies, feeling braver than he ever did in his entire life. "With your offer. And I’m well aware that you've rectified it a thousand times over when you stood by and married her, Sir. When you brought her here to protect her from the ton. Still, sometimes when I look at her, I cannot help but remember her that day - my poor, anguished, miserable Sophie. And I cannot deny my dislike of you because of it."
And then Alfie goes still, his courage leaving him, all at once.
"I--" Benedict scratches the back of his head, looking discomfited, "--I see. Thank you for your honesty, Alfie."
"Of course, Mr. Bridgerton. Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall pack my bags and leave at once." And then Alfie turns to do just that.
He will not think about the massive blunder he’s just made.
He will not.
Except Benedict Bridgerton personally blocks the door before he can even approach it. "Pack your bags?" he repeats. "You're leaving?"
And for a moment, he and Alfie just look at each other.
"I-- I assumed you'll want me to leave," Alfie replies carefully.
But Benedict Bridgerton merely looks utterly perplexed. "Why would I want that?"
Alfie points to the center of the room - as if referencing the conversation they just had - and says, "Because... how dare I say such things? Because I have forgotten my place? And I... disrespected you?"
Benedict Bridgerton waves his hand dismissively at that. "I asked you to tell the truth, and you did. I appreciated hearing it, honestly. It… reminded me of how thoughtless my actions were before, when I asked her to be my mistress. Regardless of my intentions, I had hurt Sophie. And I shall strive to make her happy for the rest of our lives to make up for it."
He then claps Alfie's shoulder and tells him, "And that is precisely why you shouldn't leave us, Alfie. I need your help to make sure I keep my word. Not that I plan to stray from it, but if ever I do lose my way, then I trust you to nudge me right back to it."
At this, Alfie can only stare at him. “Mr. Bridgerton–”
“And who knows?” Benedict Bridgerton claps him on the shoulder again. “You might even grow to like me, by then.”
And he exits the room, leaving Alfie to mull over what had just happened.
“Oh, Alfie. There you are.”
He turns to find Sophie coming towards him, holding… something. “What is it?”
She brandishes what she has in her hands, which looks like– “Is that a kite?” Alfie follows up, raising his brows at the sight of a child’s plaything.
“Yes,” Sophie replies sheepishly. “It’s a Bridgerton heirloom of sorts. Something they’ve been playing with since Benedict and his brothers were children. He tore it earlier this morning, and so he’d asked me to ask you to fix it.”
“Me?” Alfie asks, taking the kite from her and inspecting the tear right down its middle. “Why me?”
“Well, I suppose he must trust you a lot,” she comments, crossing her arms. “Ordinarily, he would have fixed it himself, but this time, the tear’s too big for his own meager abilities. I offered to help, of course, but I’m ineligible for the task since I’m not a boy and I did not grow up with brothers. Which, according to one Benedict Bridgerton, are now strict prerequisites for sewing a kite!” And Sophie shakes her head fondly. “He is so silly.”
Here, Alfie just stares at her. “But you love him,” he comments.
Sophie sighs and places her hands on her hips. “With all my heart. Unfortunately.”
Well.
And there’s the simple truth - the one that’s been present all along.
Since Benedict Bridgerton is the man that Sophie loves now - despite their past, and apparently with all her heart - then all Alfie can learn to do is stand beside him rather than against him.
For Sophie’s sake.
And his own, as well.
“Well, then. I suppose I’ll just have to make sure this kite flies properly,” Alfie tells her with a smile. “I’ll fix it. Don’t you or Mr. Bridgerton worry.”
And this time, he means more than just the kite.