Work Text:
September 1818
Being a mother was fulfilling, but certainly not easy. Sophie Bridgerton had learned just that in the last three months or maybe a year if she counted the months she was carrying her child. There was a time she thought she would never become a mother. For who would marry a maid and without marriage. having relations and conceiving a bastard such as herself was out of question.
Enter Benedict Bridgerton with his stupid hair and stupid eyes and stupid smile. He swept her off her feet and she made decisions she vowed she would never make.
They did end up getting married. Behind the stupid smile was the kindest man who loved her with all his heart. Three months back, they received the greatest gift as a result of their union.
Violet Bridgerton II had her grandmother's name, her mother's looks and her father's eyes. She also had Benedict's tendency of seeking attention. At least that's what the Bridgertons said as an inside joke for whenever she cried and she cried a lot.
Sophie was the happiest when she was born. A daughter just like her but with a similar pair of eyes she fell in love with. She never thought she would ever love a being more than she loved Benedict. A look at young Violet's face and Sophie realized how wrong she was. If Benedict was her heart, Violet was the heartbeat.
Violet completed her. She made her forget all the pain she suffered for most of her life. Sophie had a cowardly man for a father. Violet's father was the bravest man she knew. Sophie had never met her mother. Violet's mother refused to leave her for a single moment.
And that was the bone of contention for Benedict Bridgerton at present. He adored Sophie and Violet. He would be lying if he said seeing Sophie do things for little Violet did not make his heart full. It surely did, especially knowing how governesses or the servants would mostly take care of children in noble families.
However, that meant Sophie was with Violet twenty-four hours a day with little time to rest. She even installed Violet's crib in their room instead of a separate baby room beside theirs as was usual.
He looked as Sophie played with Violet. They were both happy, but Sophie also looked tired. She was still recovering from birth. She yawned. Yet she refused to leave Violet. All this made Benedict angry.
“Why don't you let her play in the crib for a while and take some rest?” he suggested.
“It's fine, Benedict. Violet wants to play with mama. She is so small. It's hard to leave her.”
“But I think Violet's mama needs to rest,” he replied, “Let me just hand her to her maid.”
Her nose scrunched, facial expressions distorted at the mention. She held Violet protectively to her chest. The little one snuggled up to her, warm and safe under her mother's touch.
“I don't like her,” she confessed after some hesitation. Sophie Bridgerton did not like someone?
“Who are you and what have you done to my wife?” He quipped.
“It is not a joke, Benedict,” she retorted.
“Oh well. You interviewed her yourself, but that's fine. We can arrange a new one. Let me call Mrs. Crabtree instead.”
“She is old and easily tired.”
“So are you. Not old but easily tired.”
“She is happy. Let me be with her. Don't you think this frock Francesca got her is the prettiest dress you have ever seen?”
“But you need rest. You cannot take care of her all the time. You are still recovering. If you don't like any of the servants, let me take Violet then.” He offered. The frock was cute but he did not want to give in to her attempts to distract him.
Sophie hesitated. This was an offer she could not say no to but she did not want to say yes to.
“It's okay Benedict. I can take care of her. She needs to be fed in two hours anyways. You will not be able to handle her when she cries or worse you will drop her,” Sophie replied.
Now that was offensive. Benedict knew not to let anger overpower his love. After all, the reason he felt angry at the moment was because he loved her.
“I will not drop my own child. I have been holding babies since I was seven,” he replied, recalling the first time he held a baby Colin. Colin was much bigger than Violet when he was born and yet seven year old Benedict held him easily. At two and thirty, Benedict could surely manage Violet's delicate form.
“I have seven brothers and sisters. Six of them younger,” he reminded her.
Sophie's tired eyes were laced in sadness. She knew she offended him without meaning to. It's just that she did not want to leave Violet.
“I apologize if I offended you, but I assure you I can care for her.”
“Sophie Bridgerton, leave the child in her crib and come to me right now!’ Benedict used a tone she never heard him use before.
She knew he meant business. And for one of the few times since they met, he was talking and she had to listen.
Placing Violet gently in her crib, she covered her with a soft, warm blanket. Her baby looked so precious at that moment. If Benedict saw her now, he would realize why it was hard to leave her. She sat beside him. He immediately took her hands in his.
“What is wrong?” He asked. His tone was so soft she had difficulty imagining him the strict husband he poised moments earlier.
“Nothing,” she replied.
“You know this is not usual, right?”
“Me taking care of Violet?”
“You are obsessing over every little detail about Violet,” he replied. His thumb brushed over her palm. His touch made her worry less. It made her feel safe.
“I think it's the most common,” she replied, “I am her mother. I ought to care for her.”
“I have seen my mother bring up eight children. I have seen my sisters give birth and take care of theirs. I assure you I have not seen a woman as obsessed with their child as you are with yours” he replied.
“I am not obsessed. I just want Violet to know her mother is always there,” she protested.
He nodded. “Violet will also know her father is always there, but that doesn't require me to stay with her all the time.”
“Mothers and fathers are different. You will be out all day and she will still stick to you in the evening. I won't pay attention for a minute and she will slip away from my hands,” she said.
He shook his head squeezing her hand, “Absolutely no one will take your daughter away from you.”
“You don't understand Benedict.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don't. You will never understand because Violet loves you,” Sophie replied, almost shouting.
Benedict pulled his hand away for a moment. She was referring to his mother.
“You have never lived a day of your life missing your mother. I bet she was always around growing up. Not all of us had that. Is that my fault if I don't want my daughter to feel unloved?” Sophie was crying by then.
Benedict pulled her in a hug. Her tears were his biggest weakness. Flashes of Sophie crying every time they were pining for each other two years back ran in the back of his mind. He had vowed to never let her cry yet time and again he was the reason she cried.
“I apologize.”
“It's not your fault, Benedict,” she replied, still crying, “I grew up missing my mother. All I had was her necklace reminding me of her mistakes. Most of my life I believed myself to be my mother's biggest mistake and my father's most shameful secret.”
Violet had, in fact, not managed to make Sophie forget her pain. Instead she amplified her concerns for her child, not wanting her to feel the same loneliness she felt growing up. Her father was there, but he was an absent parent. He thought a will for dowry fulfilled his responsibility. Sophie truly believed he loved her, but she also knew he had failed to protect her heart. If she managed to not have the same fate as her mother, she didn't want to be the parent her father was either.
She sobbed. Benedict held her closer. He wished to hide her in his arms. He wished he could make her forget all the pain her parents and Araminta put her through.
“My Violet,” she continued, “my Violet is not a mistake or a secret. I want to shower all the love I have on her.”
“Spare some for me,” he joked.
Sophie nodded, smiling. “Please. Let me care for her. I know you can arrange for the best housemaid to care for her, the best governess to teach her, the best dance tutor and etiquette counselors when she is ready, but please do not stop me from loving her.”
Benedict cupped her cheeks and pulled up her chin to meet her eyes. He leaned his forehead against hers.
“You can love her without having to be with her at all times. Give yourself some breathing space. Some time to rest. It is perfectly alright if the maids put her to sleep once or twice or help you do any of her work.” Benedict assured her.
“But I don't want maids bringing up my kids,” Sophie replied.
“Kids are not brought up by maids doing a few chores. Back in Aubrey Hall, Mrs. Crabtree used to make us eat lunch sometimes, especially when mother was with child four years in a row, but my values still reflect my mother's. I owe it to her for the person I am today just like Violet will owe it to you for the person she becomes tomorrow,” he said.
Benedict's outlook was entirely different than hers. He loved her, but he could never manage to fathom the abuse, insecurity and pain she suffered most of her life. He judged all relationships with the pretty lens of a Bridgerton.
But then she realized he was not completely wrong. He never wished to undermine her experiences. He always wanted to make things easier for her. She was a Bridgerton. Her daughter was a Bridgerton. They were safe in this family.
“I can't promise. It's not easy.” Sophie wiped her tears. Benedict tucked her tendrils behind her ear.
“But you shall try”
“I shall try.”
“That's all I need, love.”
Sophie still looked at Violet. Benedict arranged her pillows for her and nudged her to sleep.
“Get some sleep. I am sure I can handle my daughter for some time,” he said.
Sophie closed her eyes but Benedict knew she was thinking still.
“She will be fine for a few hours. Then when you wake up and have some time to think, we can discuss if you prefer the new maid for her or we can hire a new one,” he said.
Sophie nodded. Her eyes were still closed. Benedict kissed her forehead before going to take care of baby Violet.
THE END