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“Mama, please,” you beg your mother once again. “Don’t make me go. I am perfectly fine where I am. I don’t see why I have to make friends.”
She sighs, watching as your personal maid, Alexandra continues to work on your hair. “It will do you good to have a friend or two.”
“I don’t see you with friends,” you glance up to look at your vanity mirror, catching her unamused expression. “I don’t.”
“I have… friends,” she weakly argues.
“Who?”
“Violet Bridgerton.”
“You always mention her when I ask what your letters are about but I hardly see the two of you together.”
“We’ll be together today, when we go visit her and her children.”
You raise a brow. “That’s where we’re going?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, I’m sure I told you.”
You turn to Alexandra and dismiss her, wanting to talk to your mama alone.
You stand, moving closer to her; you settle down, reaching for her hand. “We don’t need to do this, if you don’t want to. I understand why you wish to try today.”
She offers a tearful smile. “I believe it’s my duty as a mother- your mother, to say that to you.”
“That may be true but-”
“But nothing. We will visit an old friend and you will finally be out of the house, away from all of these books you seem to prefer over people.” She reaches up to wipe her eyes before any tears can make their way past her cheekbone.
You frown. “People are… complicated.”
“Yes and that’s the same answer you’ve given me every time I ask when I take an afternoon stroll.”
“And, my answer won’t change,” you offer her a small smile.
-
“Isn’t this a surprise?” Violet says, in a joking manner.
“Is it though?” Your mama replies.
“And is this your daughter, the one I’ve read about from your letters?”
“The one and only.”
Violet studies you, adoration in her eyes, a similar look to the one your mother gives you. “I haven’t seen you since you were born.”
“You haven’t?”
How have you never heard of this before? You turn to your mama.
“I see you have a book with you,” Violet points out. “Would you be interested in seeing our library?”
Your eyes widen for a moment before you calm yourself, remembering that you were here to “make friends”.
Your mother sighs, “show her the library. She’ll tell me how sad she was that she didn’t get to see it when we return to our home in the evening.”
Violet chuckles, “I understand-”
You pull away from the two. “I can walk around and search for it myself. You two stay here and chat.”
You rush towards the door, “bye! Have fun discussing everyone's issues!”
The doors close behind you and that’s when you take off.
The smile never leaves your face.
-
“So far, I’ve found three guest rooms, two child’s bedrooms, an office, an art room, and no library,” you silently groan to yourself. “I’m never going to find it at this point.” You stand in front of the last door you plan on opening.
The door creaks as you slowly open it, keeping your door on the handle.
A victorious smile stretches across your lips, “finally!”
You quickly close the door behind you and find the coziest spot in the room, not wanting to be disturbed until it was dinner time.
You open your book and are submerged into the story, unable to hear a thing; not even the Bridgerton son behind you.
A gasp alerts you and you jump back, dropping your book and nearly gaining a new scar (you were an adventurous child before you realized how cruel people could be).
You open your eyes and are surprised to find a handsome man holding you so close; nearly breathing you in. You open your mouth, unable to come up with a response and close it.
“Y- your book,” he stutters.
You owlishly blink before pulling away from him, brushing away the imperfections of your dress, smoothing out the skirt otherwise your mama will have your head. “I- um,” you pause. “I should go.”
You rush past him and are close to turning the door knob when he stops you. “You- your book.”
You spin around, keeping your head down. “Thank you, Mister Bridgerton.”
He furrows his brows. No one has called him that for quite some time now, everyone knows he prefers going by his first name. “I- call me Benedict.”
You nod, “okay, thank you, Mister Benedict. I’ll be off now, sorry to impose on you and your privacy.”
-
You gently close the door behind you and lean against it, closing your eyes as you catch your breath.
Alexandra stops before you. “Are you alright?”
Your eyes snap open, “Alexandra, when did you get here?”
She furrows her brows, “a moment ago. Are you feeling alright? You look red in the cheeks.”
You nod and grab her arm, “I’m feeling well, is it dinner time?”
She nods.
“Well, we should go now or else we’ll be late.” You can tell how confused she is while you walk side by side but don't comment on it.
She fears far more than she needs to about interacting with people enough as is and you most certainly are not going to add a marriage into that.
-
You take a seat between the girls of your mama’s friend. You aren’t sure of their names as of yet but you’re sure your mama will remind you soon enough.
You reach for your cup and take a sip, catching the eye of Ben… you forgot his name but you know you're close.
Your eyes widen as you cover your mouth and harshly swallow the painful sip of water, trying not to cough too hard and gain more attention.
Your mama whispers her worries and you shake your head, offering a small smile to let her know you’re okay.
Anthony calls out to you and you turn to the eldest, only knowing his name because of the Whistledown article and due to your mama informing you of the wedding (you were overseas studying with your father before he passed).
You turn to him, curious as to what he could say.
“Your mother informs me, you read more than you go outside,” he jokes.
You furrow your brows, “I walk… around the ton at… times.”
He raises a brow, “I see. Well, she also informed me that you happen to know how to bargain.”
“Oh, I- um,” you lower your head, flustered at his comment. “I wouldn’t um say that.”
He raised a brow before turning to the footsteps coming from the corner of the room, catching a glimpse of his wife. “Darling,” he nearly jumps out of his seat. “You made it.”
She smiles at him and quickens her steps.
You smile at the two while all the Bridgerton siblings gag and scoff.
You glance back at the second eldest and pause, finding his gaze on you.
You offer a small nod and reach for the cup, taking a small sip.
“And this is the one you told me haggled you, isn’t that right dear?”
You pause, setting the cup down before turning towards the two. Your jaw drops as a nervous chuckle escapes you. “Oh.”
Your mama whispers your name and you ignore her.
“I see you do remember me,” she smiles. “I’m Kate, this fool's wife.”
You owlishly blink. “Right.” You purse your lips. “I- um- I am sorry for-”
She waves you off, “don’t be. I was impressed. You helped me get a better deal.”
“Did I?”
She narrows her eyes playfully at you. “Don’t be so modest. You did better than I could and I thought I was the best at bargaining.”
You slightly perk up. “Oh, well. I wouldn’t say I did better. You had a good offer but the man clearly knew what he had was, what he thought was a fake, and I’m being kind when I say that. You started it and I merely assisted.”
“Assisted is a kind word,” Anthony grumbles. “I started the deal before I was sent away so she could take care of it.”
“Well, she takes after her father,” your mother jokes.
You lower your gaze as your grief washes over you. “He took me with him on most of his business travels and I picked up a few tricks, I suppose.”
“Good ones,” Kate commends you once more.
The dinner was fun, more fun than you would have thought.
You feel giddy and like a character in one of your books.
Your mother went ahead of you to ready herself, letting you take your time conversing with Kate and Anthony.
You make your way closer to the front door to get your coat.
“Hopefully we’ll meet again,” he whispers, handing it to you.
“Maybe.” You risk a glance and find yourself enamoured by him.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to another meeting in a library.”
You lower your gaze, cheeks hotter than the sun on your walk up the stairs to the Bridgerton’s home. “You mustn’t let another hear you or else one’s reputation would be tarnished.”
A mischievous smile breaks across his lips. “Would it?”
You sigh and turn around, heading for the door.
“Oh, no. Wait,” he runs in front of you. “If I promise not to make jokes, will you be around again? Seeing my brother thrown off by you was more than entertaining.”
You tilt your head, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’m taking that as a yes.”
You scoff, “cocky.”
“It’s not cocky if I’m right.”
You shake your head and take your leave.
-
A rushed voice alerts you and your mama.
You pull back the curtain, seeing him running towards you.
The carriage stops.
“You,” he pants. “You forgot this.” He hands you your book.
You glance down at it and back to him.
“Benedict, how thoughtful of you to return her book.”
So that was his name.
He sheepishly nods. “I- yes, I suppose it is.”
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“That was kind of him,” your mother adds as your carriage pulls away.
“It was.”
She hums.
“Mama, don’t.”
“What? I’ve said nothing.”
“Your eyes tell me more than that.” She only smiles in return.
You can tell she hopes you join her on her frequent journeys to the Bridgerton’s ton and is overjoyed at the sight of you making friends, much less a suitor.
(You can deny it all you want but she knows you two will be wed by next spring. No young man would rush to return a lady’s most precious item the way Benedict did).