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In her defense, Benedict's bed is extremely comfortable, with soft sheets and pillows and a mattress free of lumps of any kind.
And she had been a bit tired from doing chores that Mrs. Crabtree had absolutely forbidden her to do around the house (she did them, anyway, away from the housekeeper's eyes, thanks to Mr. Crabtree distracting her).
And the fact that, after marrying him, she now can only rest fully whenever her husband is lying beside her - meaning that nights without him by her side meant that she also couldn't sleep well.
So, upon his return from Mayfair some time after lunch and after he'd dragged her to their bed because he was tired, Sophie had thought it wouldn't take long for Benedict to fall asleep himself. To her, that had been his plan. Then he'd buried them deep under blankets, grabbed her hand and held it over his chest, and then he--
--launched into a very detailed monologue about his lengthy discussions with his brother, the Viscount Bridgerton, about the decisions Benedict had made on Anthony's behalf while the latter was in India. Something about investments in copper and coal, and maybe even the repeated building and rebuilding of a broken fence.
At first, Sophie had strived to reply earnestly and sincerely whenever she could. And then, eventually, her replies shortened to "ohs" and "mm-hmms." Which Benedict didn't seem to mind, busy as he was talking, with his eyes on the canopy above them and his thumb drawing restless circles on her wrist.
After a while, Sophie feels her body completely relax. And, as often as is the case after her limbs loosen, her eyelids begin to droop. She decides to close them for a little while, intending to open them eventually, maybe after a minute or so. She doesn't plan on taking a nap anytime soon, after all. Not when Benedict is expecting her to listen, and listen well.
Except she apparently does take a nap.
And a very long one at that.
So the next time Sophie opens her eyes--
"Good morning."
She blinks.
And blinks again.
Benedict is lying on his side, completely facing her, hand still holding hers over his heart. He smiles, takes it to his mouth, and kisses the back of it. "Slept well?"
Her brows furrow. "I--"
And that is when she takes the scenery around them.
Benedict had greeted her with 'good morning', which seems entirely wrong now, considering their room is illuminated by a roaring fire in the fireplace.
Which only comes to life at night.
Which meant--
She licks her lips. "What time is it?"
Benedict wrinkles his nose. "Perhaps around seven or eight? I literally have no idea. I lost track of time watching my beautiful wife fall asleep whilst I was busy recounting all my encounters with my brother to her."
Sophie blinks at him, uncomprehending. "I--"
...oh.
Oh, no.
She pushes herself to a sitting position, her free hand covering her mouth as she looks down at Benedict. "I fell asleep?"
"Mm-hmm," Benedict says. "I believe it occurred somewhere around the time I was telling you about the returns of our family's investment in copper doubling under my watch. Which, of course, made you miss the juicy details of Anthony practically yelling at my face when he discovered the many drawings I've done of the Lady in Silver in his ledgers. Though in your defense, you sleep so quietly that I wasn't able to notice it until I did."
"Benedict," she says softly, completely horrified now. "I'm so--"
He surges up until his face is merely inches away from hers. "Boring you, was I?"
"No!" she replies instantly, shaking her head. "It was just--" Sophie makes careless gestures with her hands. "--you've been gone for days and I wasn't able to sleep well without you and now that you're here--"
His expression softens with every word out of her mouth. "I missed you, too, you know," he says quietly. "More than you can possibly imagine."
And, as always, her heart lurches upon hearing it.
Which only made her feel guiltier for falling asleep in the first place. "Benedict--"
"Of course," he says, his expression a bit impish now, "knowing that hearing my tales can cause you to fall asleep made me realize that I do need to be more... shall we say, active, in my efforts to keep you awake while we're together."
Something in the way he said those words... "What are you--"
Benedict grins at her.
Then he rolls off the bed and kneels on the side of it.
Then he grabs her legs, pulls her nearer to his position, and pushes her thighs apart until he's kneeling quite comfortably between them.
Sophie's breathless by the time she realizes his nefarious plans. "Mr. Bridgerton--!"
He smiles at her. "Yes, Mrs. Bridgerton?" And he adds, rather charmingly, "I dare you to take a nap while I'm doing... this."
Then he kisses the skin on her inner thigh, slowly making his way up to her--
Suffice to say, Benedict truly doesn't bore her that night.
Or the many, many nights after that.