Summary:Daphne insists on Colin to tell her where the duel is held. It just leaves Colin in a dilemma. What do to about you (around Hyacinth’s age)? He can’t leave you unattended.
“Where are they!” – vented Daphne out, bursting into the parlor. You gasped when she entered so furious. Her cheeks puffed up, her face turning a shade of red. – “Who? Daphne, you have to be more precise.” – answered Colin who was playing the piano. His fingers brushing the keys as a soft melody filled the room. Daphne came standing by the piano, her face sour as if she was about to burst. – “I think you know very well of who I speak!” – replied she, looking over her shoulder to you. She granted you a smile before removing all traces of it towards her brother.
Colin swallowed nervously, continuing to play the piano as if nothing was out of the ordinary. – “You mean Mama?” – asked you, thinking it was her Daphne was looking for. – “Anthony!” – shouted Daphne out. So loud it made Colin touch the wrong notes, ending the sweet melody with a hard clash. The sound was so sudden and loud, it made you cover your ears. The book suddenly shut before you reached the ending. Colin got up, taking Daphne by her elbow. He pulled her closer to the window, away from you. Daphne moved her arm up so his grip on her would lose. – “Don’t tell me you have not a clue, because I know you do.”
Colin inhaled deep, looking nervously away. – “Tell me where they are, brother. You need to tell me.” – whispered Daphne to him. She tried her sweet approach, hoping to gain favor this way. Colin pressed his lips together, slightly shaking his head. – “It is a matter of life and death!” – Daphne raised her voice a bit, yet still out of reach to you. – “Daphne…” – started Colin. Daphne moved her hand up, annoyed by his presence. – “You know where they are! Tell me!” – begged Daphne. Colin sighed looking past his shoulder over to you. You were staring with wide curious eyes at your siblings, trying to understand what was happening. – “Colin!” – called she out, losing her patience.
She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him along. – “Daphne wait!” – Colin twisted his arm so that Daphne released her grip on him. – “I can’t…” – said he, looking ashamed at the ground. – “You will take me to them!” – Daphne was determined to reach the duel before any true harm was done. She took his arm again as Colin moved it out of her way. – “I can’t!” – repeated he himself, leaning in closer to her. His eyes wandered off to you. Daphne lifted her shoulders a bit up, following his gaze.
“Then I shall go on my own!” – decided she, taking the back of her cloak as she spun around. Colin gritted his teeth, going after her. You straightened your back at bit, seeing them run out of the parlor, leaving you alone. – “I cannot leave her alone!” – bit Colin at her, agitated that Daphne would even suggest such a thing. She stopped at the door, turning towards him. – “Then stay here, but simply tell me where they are.” – insisted Daphne, not wanting to waste another minute. Colin inhaled sharply. – “I cannot leave you unescorted!” – called he out. – “And I cannot leave Y/n unattended!”
Such a conflict he found himself in. The duty of a brother slowly weighing on his shoulders. A weight he had not yet felt so heavy of a burden. It was his duty to escort Daphne. Yet it was also his duty to attend to you since they were the only one’s present at the house. – “Make your choice!” – Daphne pulled the hood from her cloak over her head, heading out of the door. Colin groaned in frustration, balding his hands. What must he do. If mother ever knew of this, he would hang.
“Y/n!” – called he out loud from the hallway. You got up, walking out of the parlor. – “Yes, brother.” – said you, still holding the door as Colin motioned for you to come over quickly. You ran up to him while he snapped his finger at the doorman. – “My sisters cloak!” – insisted he. The doorman bowed, parting from his position to go and fetch your cloak. – “Where are we going?” – asked you curiously. Colin knelt down on one knee before you, sighing deep. – “You cannot tell anyone of this.” – breathed he out. Your cloak arrived as Colin moved it around your shoulders.
He tied the cloak for you, moving the hood over your head. – “Is this like a little secret?” – questioned. Colin stopped what he was doing, smiling at you for a moment. – “Yes.” – whispered he out, stroking your cheek with his thumb. – “Now we must make haste!” – He got up to his feet, taking your hand. You tried to catch up with his firm footsteps as it felt like you were running and he simply walking. Outside sat Daphne already on her horse, huffing in surprise. Colin his horse was brought to him. – “Don’t even speak about it!” – said he to Daphne, helping you up in the saddle.
You moved a bit closer to the horses head. Colin hoisted himself up, coming to sit behind you. He took the reins in his hand. You panicked a bit when the horses head went up. – “Colin…” – said you in sheer panic. Colin signaled the horse to move, giving it a kick with a loud command. The horse got in motion, practically moving from standing still to running in a minor of seconds. You closed your eyes as this was the first time you rode a big horse. You were used to practicing on pony’s that went slow, not a tall horse that went fully rogue.
Daphne’s horse was running just behind you, trying to catch up. She caught up, riding beside the two of you. – “We better be there in time!” – shouted she out. – “In time for what?” – shrieked you out, panic written all over your face. – “You should’ve talked him out of it!” – It was clear Daphne was not released of all her anger yet. – “Talking him out of it?” – yelled Colin back. His horse thumping on the stones as they made way for the fields. – “You do know we are talking about Anthony!” – reminded he her. With little to hold, inhaled you sharply and tense. Colin had his hands on the reins, no where near you. Of course were his arms in a way around you, but not fully.
“You could’ve tried!” – answered Daphne brutally. You yelped soft when you felt like your entire body was bouncing around. – “The hairs Y/n!” – called Colin out to you. You froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. – “Take the hairs Y/n!” – shouted he louder, sending a rush of panic over you. You hastily grabbed a hold of the horses hairs for grip, not knowing if it would hurt the poor animal. – “Don’t shout at her!” – shouted Daphne, redirecting her anger to Colin’s manners. Colin sighed loud, granting his sister with a glare. Every time the horses hoofs touched the ground, got you more anxious.
You wanted off. This was getting to much of a thrill for you. They ran up to a woodsier part of the fields to reach their destination. Daphne bowed her head, avoiding some twigs from slapping into her face. – “Where is it!” – breathed Daphne out. – “Just up ahead!” – pointed Colin out. – “That will take us forever!” – screamed she out. Daphne thought for a moment, remembering something. – “I know a short-cut!” – exclaimed she, signaling her horse to go left. – “Wait!” – Colin clenched his jaw, going in pursuit. Daphne galloped to a large hedge, splitting land into two. Colin made his way over to it as well.
You saw the hedge, seeing Daphne jump over it with her horse. – “No…” – mumbled you out. – “No, no, no.” – your voice getting a bit louder each time. Going in full panic mode, didn’t want you to jump. You had never jumped with a horse. Certainly not a tall one as this one. – “No!” – called you out loud, protesting. Colin got startled, unable to see your facial expression. – “It will be alright Y/n.” – reassured he you. You shook your head, leaning back against his chest. – “I want off. I want off!” – shouted you, trying all to make him stop. – “Y/n, I…” – responded Colin, approaching the hedge.
You screamed loud, not wanting to go but you had no choice. Colin squeezed his arms closer to your body so that he could give you some sort of protection when the horse flew over the hedge. It landed on the other edge as you were full on crying. Colin signaled the horse to go faster, wanting to catch up with Daphne. – “Y/n I’m sorry.” – said he, hearing you cry. – “I truly am.” – In the distance saw he already Anthony and Simon, back-to-back. Benedict stood by a tree, keeping a close eye on Anthony. Daphne was guiding her horse towards them. Colin took a detour, coming closer by a different direction. He needed to get you out of sight before Anthony and Benedict would see you. Or he for sure was a dead man walking.
By a large tree, not far from them came Colin to a sudden stop. He jumped off, taking a hold of you, helping you off. Once your feet were on the ground, pushed you Colin off you. You wanted nothing to do with him for a while. Crying loud, walked you up to the tree. Colin going after you. – “Y/n I…” – started he, seeing your face was all wet from crying. You leaned against the tree, Colin coming to kneel before you quickly. – “Y/n I need you to do something for me.” – breathed he out, looking past the tree to where Daphne was. She was almost up to them if he didn’t make haste.
He moved his hand to your shoulder as you pushed it off. It pained him to see you so frightened like this. He never meant to scare his little sister like this. – “Stay here and out of sight! Please!” – begged Colin. He nodded, telling himself all will be well. Getting up, started he running. Anthony and Simon were ready to draw their pistols, pointing them at each other. Daphne interfered with her horse, startling the poor men. A gun shot was fired. You gasped, feeling as if you had skipped a few beats of your heart. Followed by loud neighing and shouts. A part of you wanted to look, but another part of you didn’t. Letting yourself slide down the bark, plugged you, your fingers in your ears to block the loud voices out.
Colin’s heart dropped, seeing Daphne lay in the grass. Anthony, Simon, and Benedict at her side quickly. – “Sister!” – called Anthony out at the same time Simon called out her name. Simon wanted to touch her, feel that she was alright when Anthony held him at a distance. – “Are you hurt sister?” – asked Anthony, fearing she might’ve been shot. Daphne got up, removing the hood from over her head. – “I am perfectly well, not thanks to you!” – spitted she out furious, getting up to her feet. – “What were you thinking? Running into a crossfire like that!” – shouted Anthony back. Colin slowly approached, nodding at Benedict as a reassurance that their sister was save.
“What were you thinking!” – fired Daphne right back at him. – “You men and your duels!” – scoffed she out. Daphne brushed some dirt off her cloak, turning around as she came face to face with Colin. She widened her eyes at the absence of you. Colin noticed the burning question on her lips, slowly shaking his head. He didn’t want her to ask about your well-being right here in the open. Daphne kept staring at him, tilting her head a bit to the side with a clear hint of her eyes. It made Colin widen his eyes as he had not thought of it.
How was he ever going to return home with you unnoticed. Everyone would head home together, so it was impossible for him to go unnoticed with you. Closing his eyes, cursed he at himself for not thinking this through. – “Well I suppose we all need a drink to forget about these events.” – pitched Benedict in. – “Agreed!” – bit Anthony, glaring at Simon. – “But you will marry my sister!” – insisted he. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not after witnessing the kiss between them in the gardens. Simon had to marry her, no matter how many times he insisted on not to. Everyone started to make their way over to their horses.
Daphne let Colin know to make haste decisions. – “Are you not coming brother?” – questioned Benedict, standing close to his horse. – “I…I…continue without me…” – said he, raising some questions to his brothers. – “I wish to see more of the view.” – Anthony laughed loud, ridiculing him. – “Don’t be absurd! Fetch your horse, Colin!” - Colin swallowed nervously, looking over his shoulder to where he left his horse and you. – “No…I…I really must insist.” – said he, hoping to persuade his brothers. Benedict quirked his eyebrow up, feeling as if something was off. – “Fetch your horse or I will!” – called Anthony out, pointing firmly at his horse in the distance. Colin exhaled deep, turning around.
Daphne slowly shook her head when he walked past. There was nothing for him to do but to go and fetch his horse. He could get on his horse, telling you he would come later for you? No that is out of the question thought Colin. He would never forgive himself for leaving you behind. Perhaps if he rode as last, no one would notice? Let you sit behind him so that his body would block out your posture. But how would that work at home when you descend? Perhaps there was nothing else to do but to face the consequence of his actions. In his mind acted Colin in the best way, pleasing both his sisters with what they needed.
You to be attended and Daphne to be escorted. If this was his walk towards death, he would take no other path. Colin arrived at the tree, disappearing behind it. Benedict frowned, giving his horse to Anthony as he followed. – “Y/n?” – whispered Colin. You wiped your cheeks dry, looking up to him. – “Can we go home?” – asked you, seeing him nod. He extended his hand to you as you took it. He left you by the tree, fetching his horse. As the tall creature approached you, gasped you loud, staggering back. Still frightened by it. – “It’s alright Y/n, I promise to take it slow this time.” – reassured he you.
“Y/n?!” – called Benedict out in surprise. His look of shock turned to anger when looking at Colin. – “You brought her here!” – yelled he out, lashing out to Colin. Colin stumbled back when his brother waved with his fist around. – “You wish to tell me you brought our sister to a duel!” – The others had heard the commotion, coming over as well. – “What is the meaning of this!” – Anthony widened his eyes as well at the sight of you. Gritting his teeth, felt he himself boil with anger. – “Explain!” – hissed Anthony at Colin. – “I…I…I had no choice! I had to escort Daphne but… I couldn’t leave Y/n on her own at the house.” – explained Colin.
“So you decided to bring her to a gun fight?” – yelled Benedict out, ready to wave his fist around again. – “I wouldn’t have brought her here if you didn’t start a duel in the first place!” – lashed Colin out, getting a bit tired that everyone was pointing fingers at them. Anthony was trembling with rage, ready to fight him. – “Stop!” – screamed you out loud, getting everyone attention. – “I want to go home!” – insisted you, stomping with your feet on the ground. Benedict noticed the glossy reflection in your eyes, hinting that you had been crying. He came kneeling before you, wiping your cheeks dry from the wet stains still visible. – “I want to go home…” – sobbed you out. Benedict nodded, wrapping his arms around you.
Anthony sighed deep, calming himself. – “Come along Y/n.” – said Colin holding his hand out to you. You gasped, leaning closer to Benedict at the sight of his horse. You didn’t wish to sit upon that animal any time soon. You shook your head, clamping onto Benedict for comfort. – “I am sorry.” – confessed Colin again, falling onto his knees. – “I never meant to scare you Y/n, I truly did not.” – you let go of Benedict, walking over to Colin. You hugged him, feeling him move his arms tightly around you. As if he was afraid, you would slip out of his grip if he loosened up for an inch. – “Forgive me sister…” – he moved some hair aside, kissing your cheek. You moved back, wiping your eye with your sleeve.
Anthony was glaring at Colin, demanding to have an explanation of your tears. – “I frightened her… with the horse.” – said he out loud. – “I brought upon her a fear of riding horses.” – Colin looked ashamed at the ground. Daphne came to his side, moving her hands to his shoulder. – “It will take time, but she might grow out of it.” – whispered Daphne to him. – “You are not to blame.” – Colin smiled faintly at her, giving her hand on his shoulder a soft squeeze. Anthony walked up to you, kissing the top of your head to sooth you.
“Will you ride with me?” – asked Benedict. – “I promise to go gently.” – reassured he you, offering you, his hand. You slowly nodded, walking up to him. He helped you on his horse, hoisting himself up behind you. You breathed out in shivers, sitting on top a grand animal again. Benedict moved one hand around your stomach, holding the reins in his other hand. – “We’ll go slowly.” – He gave the horse a gentle kick, setting it in motion. Your muscles pulled together from fright when the animal moved.
The horse walked slowly, almost parading. The others got on their horses as well. – “You do not need to wait for us.” – called he out to Anthony. Benedict looked down at you, smiling. You looked up to him, giving him a faint smile. – “We have all the time.” – whispered he out. Anthony nodded, signaling his horse to go faster. Daphne and Colin followed. Simon went his own way. Benedict and you rode on your own pace. He didn’t want your fear of horses to grow. You would make it back home, eventually. It just took a little longer.
Read part 1 here,part 2here!,part 3here!,part 4here! (This is the last chapter)
Summary: When a proposal has been offered, will you accept or forever keep your doubts? Can love truly conquer all?
“Marry me.”
You stumbled a bit backwards, letting your hand slide out of his. His request floating around your mind in little fragments. Fragments that had not yet been pieced together. Shivering out a breath, moved you, your hand towards your chest. How could he so easily decide the future when you were still yet uncertain about the present. The damage that has been done was not something to take lightly. Being personally cast out by the queen herself had consequents. If this meant you were out of the season for the rest of your live, you could never accept his hand in marriage. You wouldn’t wish a life of cruelty upon him.
Not on the man you love. Not even for a snippet of happiness. – “I…I…” – stuttered you out, afraid to look him in the eye. Benedict kept looking hopeful at you, keeping his warm smile up. He was starstruck for even seeing the possible dangers ahead. – “I…I…” – your gaze went up towards your father. He was smiling, perhaps a pure smile you had barely seen. Not a hint of miscommunication in it, simple but pure honesty. For the first times in forever had he been happy, content with you. You didn’t want to take that from him.
Then you adverted your gaze to Benedict’s brothers. Against all odds were they standing right here. By your side. Taking your side. No one had done that ever. It was unfair to them for what you had in mind. Your mind was chaos, every horrifying end tormenting you. How could you accept despite it all. This wasn’t a simple answer of yes or no, this was more than that. Reputations were at stake, reputations you didn’t want to shatter. You never did. If accepting meant dragging Benedict and his family alongside with you, you preferred to suffer alone. As you always have, for alone is all one person can have. Alone protects you.
It protects those you love, leaving the suffering to you. Taking away their pain as you had endured so much pain it became bearable. You started to slightly shake your head, pressing your lips together, feeling the tears emerge. – “I…I can’t.” – whispered you out, taking another step back. Benedict exhaled shocked, his knees going wobbly as he felt himself being dragged under. Colin ran up to his brother, holding him up by the shoulder. – “I’ve got you brother.” – said he, making sure Benedict stand up straight. – “I am sorry…” – sobbed you out, allowing some tears to roll down your cheek.
Your father ran up to you, shocked by your revelation. – “Y/n, my darling.” – called he out, staring baffled at you. Benedict found a bit of his strength back, patting Colin on his chest that he was alright. Colin carefully let go of his brother, keeping a close eye on him. – “Why?” – asked Benedict, taking a step closer to you. You sniffed loud, turning slightly towards him again. – “Why? You know why?” - told you him, your lip trembling from the sudden strong emotions. Benedict shook his head with a bite of his lip. – “Not good enough.” – answered he, shrugging his shoulders a bit. You exhaled sharp, taken by his determination.
Why was he so stubborn. – “Why, Y/n?” – he asked again, pounding his fist down in the air. You shook your head, not wanting to have this conversation by the palace. You turned around, walking away from him with your father by your side. Benedict wasn’t ready to let you off so easily. He knew his love was not one-sided. He had seen the emotions inside of you. He had seen the longing, the desire. He had seen it because he saw it within himself. He hated that despite it all you were still trying to protect him. Even when he told you numerous times not to. All he ever wanted was to love you, be by your side and support you no matter what.
“In sickness and in health, is that not a requirement?” – shouted he at you, ready to defend himself. – “I know you are afraid Y/n, I am too, but that doesn’t give away the fact that I…I…” – Benedict felt his hands tremble as he came to a stop. He felt like his emotions were steering him. He felt all control over himself slip away. The fight lust inside of him so grand, it made him go towards every length to keep you close. – “Benedict please…” – said you, wiping some tears away.
“How many more times must I proclaim myself? You are all that matters to me, nothing more. I want you, I … I love you.” – confessed he, making you abruptly stop. – “I love you with all my heart and it pains me… it pains me to see that you are not willing to give it a chance, us a chance.” – Benedict started to slowly approach you as you had stopped moving. His words casting a spell on you that kept you in place. – “I beg of you…” – you breathed in shivers, feeling his hands slide up the back of your arms. His sudden touch captivating you. – “I have lost myself in you.” – whispered he out, breathing against your neck.
You turned around sharply with tears in your eyes. – “I’m scared…” – exclaimed you. – “I am afraid that I might be the cause of all your pain. I do not wish that upon you. I love you… and the fact that I love you is why I must protect you.” – cried you out. Benedict moved his trembling hand towards your cheek, letting it rest there. – “I’m scared that all has been for nothing. That I can’t be the loving wife you require, that I cannot give you what you desire, that I cast my shadow upon you. I have seen it.” – you gave Benedict a slight push against his chest.
“I have seen what my condition does to people.” – you moved your head slightly to the side, seeing your father stare shameful at the ground. He knew you were speaking of him. Of all the deeds he had done towards you. – “I have seen it change them. Change them so much they are afraid to look at me. Benedict, I don’t want you to stop looking at me.” – tears were streaming ruthlessly down your cheek, clouding your vision. Benedict curled up a tiny smile. – “I shall never.” – whispered he to you. – “You don’t know that…” – answered you back. Benedict inhaled deeply, looking up to the blank night sky for a moment.
“I am telling you… right here that I love you Y/n. All of you.” – spoke he out, gazing back at you. With his palm against your cheek, wiped he some tears away. – “Don’t be afraid my love… It is time to let go of your fears…” – you shuddered, closing your eyes for a moment. – “Do not let society decide for you, do not let it lead your life. For I shall stand by your side no matter what. If the queen forbids you from the season, let her be… for I have already found who I wish to marry.” – slowly opening your eyes again, stared you in his hopeful eyes.
You loved his sense of hope when you could not. – “Y/n, I ask you again… will you accept my hand in marriage for I will love you entirely.” – He rose your hand up, holding it gently in his hand. Everyone was waiting in anticipation for you to speak. Benedict inhaling deeply as his chest rose with the tension building up inside of him. You could not deny your doubts and fears, but perhaps you simply had to take that leap. For how else were you going to discover what laid at the bottom of the cliff. For love is scary, allowing oneself to fully let go to experience it’s deepness. Love was a burning flame, bursting with light with one single touch.
You curled up a smile, slowly nodding. – “With all my heart.” – whispered you out, finally letting go of your fears. A smile spread across his lips, unable to contain himself. Benedict moved his hands around your back, lifting your body a bit up. Inhaling sharply, pressed he his lips against yours. That simple touch that made you reborn. Become a whole new person. Moving your hands to his jawline, tilted you your head to kiss him from a different angle. Love was indeed a burning flame that you felt inside of you. Why did you ever doubt him. It finally was clear to you that he loved you, all of you. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore for you had each other. You didn’t have to be alone anymore, for love has found its way to you. Granting you with the upmost caring gentleman one could ever give. Benedict Bridgerton, your artist, your protector, your friend, your husband.
Anthony cleared his throat, breaking Benedict, and you apart. – “How this is all very warmly, I do have to remind you that we are in public.” – informed Anthony with a shy smile on his face. Benedict and you took a step apart from each other. Gazing with deep affection to one another. – “Y/n darling, we must get home… I do not wish to be handled like that again.” – your father was right. It was wrong to stand here as she had casted you out so easily. – “We must head back inside for our dearest sister and mother.” – pointed Colin out, looking a bit over his shoulder. Benedict took your hand, leaving a caring kiss on top of it. Smiling at him, watched you him step back, letting your hand slowly slip out of his till it hung beside your body again.
Father took you by the arm, leading you towards the carriage. The two of you got inside as you sat by your fathers side. He threw his arm around you as you came laying against his chest. – “I hope you can forgive me… I cannot give any excuses for my behavior, and I will not for I have committed a crime. I do hope you can forgive your dear old papa for his blind eye.” – he threw his other arm around you as well, pulling you closer to him. – “From now on, I shall always be there for you. In sickness and in health, for I do not wish to lose you.” – He turned his head, kissing the top of your head.
A sudden crack of wood made you fly up in the carriage. Landing firmly back onto the seats as one part of the carriage had been send down. – “Father what is going on?” – called you out anxiously as the carriage came to a sudden stop. He held his finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. Outside heard you loud voices. Father looked frightened at you, his face turning pale. – “Whatever you hear… stay here!” – demanded he, gripping tight onto your hand. – “Father!” – whispered you out in panic, seeing him take his leave. You moved over to the door, keeping your head out of sight.
You tried to listen in to the sudden voices as it sounded that they were with many. – “Good sirs…” – heard you, your father say with his hands up. You gasped in shock, covering up your mouth when you witness your father being punched in the stomach. He stumbled to the ground in pain. You wanted to jump out of the carriage and assist your father in any way. You heard loud laughter, seeing him get kicked in the stomach while he was crawling in pain on the ground. Your hands were trembling with fear. If your father was unable to defend you, what might they do to you once they find you.
A reflection of light marched into the dark as it made you widen your eyes. Torches. They were carrying torches and they were marching… marching up to the carriage. Your father knew what they were going to do as well, grabbing a hold of one’s ankle. – “Stop! My daughter is in there… please…” – begged he out, receiving another kick. He groaned in out in pain, rolling over to the side. A man held his hand out, demanding to be given a torch. – “No… please… stop…” – called your father out in pain, feeling every bone in his body hurt. – “You shouldn’t have brought her to the palace.” – said the man holding the torch, leaning down to your fathers face.
“No… I beg of you… my daughter is innocent.” – pleaded your father with them, trying to get back up to his feet. – “We’ve all heard the rumors!” – shouted he loud, roaring up his crowd. – “Your daughter is a stain to our society, and we don’t want her kind here!” – his men cheered loud as he threw his hand up. – “No!” – father screamed in pain, locking eyes with you in the carriage. You were terrified, unable to move as you heard them approach. They started banging on the carriage to scare you. You were being shaken around, crying in terror. – “Get… away… from my daughter!” – called your father out between clenched teeth, pushing himself to get up.
With his hand against his stomach, limped he over. Desperate to protect you till his very last breath. – “Father!” – cried you out, wanting to get out but someone was holding the door firmly. Father groaned loud, waving his fist around. He received a blow against his nose, sending him down. – “No!” – screamed you out, trying to get out of the carriage. They just walked over him like he was nothing. – “Let me out!” – yelled you out, wiping your tears aggressively away. You saw the burning torch come closer, hearing the crackling sounds from crisping wood. Screaming in agony, were you jamming hard against the door that would not budge.
“We have endured you long enough!” – shouted one of the men at you. Feeling the last bit of strength slip away, felt you lost. How could this be the end when it hasn’t even begun yet. You were going to marry the man you love. Grow old with him and share so many adventures. The torch was so close to the carriage now that it only took a good connection for the carriage to catch fire. You gasped, hearing horses neigh loud. At least three you could distinguish. You heard someone jump off the horse as their feet landed with a thud on the gravely road. Punches were being handed out. Hearing grunts of pain and anger.
You dared to pop your head out of the window, widening your eyes at your rescuers. – “Benedict!” – screamed you out loud. It caught him off guard for a moment, getting punched in the face. Feeling a bit wonky, collapsed Benedict almost to the ground. All men had moved away from the carriage, fighting against one of the Bridgerton brothers. It suddenly started to feel warm in the carriage as you spotted that the torch had been dropped. Laying against the broken wooden wheel, catching fire. You called it out, kicking your feet against the doorframe as it wouldn’t budge. – “Dear God!” – breathed Anthony out, seeing the carriage catch fire.
“Colin!” – shouted he out, punching a guy in the face. His boxing skills coming in handy after all. Colin nodded, pushing a man’s grip off him. He than ran over to the carriage, trying to pull the door open. He was kicking against it, pulling at it, anything for it to move. The carriage started to fill up with smoke as the ceiling started to catch fire as well. – “Colin!” – called you out, keeping yourself as low as possible. – “Come on!” – grunted Colin out, wanting the door to work with him. Benedict saw his brother struggling as well as the burning carriage. He fought off the handy man that he couldn’t shake off. With a bloody forehead, jumped he over some unconscious fallen men, aiding his brother.
“Y/n! it’s going to be alright love.” – reassured he you, pulling at the handle. – “It won’t work!” – answered Colin hastily. Benedict clenched his jaw, not ready to lose you. You were crying, laying with your head on the seat to stay as low as possible. Benedict moved his hand to the window frame, trying to see if you could fit through. – “I’m going to pull you out, my love, I promise you.” – called he out desperately, trying to break the framework of the window. It cracked since it had been weakened by the warmness of the flames. Benedict reached his arms into the carriage as you got up. You felt the intense heat above you, sticking your hands out. Benedict moved his arms tightly around you, lifting you up as he tried to pull you out through the open window.
Colin helped pulling, pushing your body a bit up so that it could tip you over. You popped free, falling onto Benedict as he fell to the ground. From intense happiness, cried you in his arms. Telling him how much you loved him and how scared you were. Colin helped the two of you up to your feet, moving away from the burning carriage. Anthony had fought off the last man as many others had taken a run for it. He was now helping your father up to his feet. – “Your… your bleeding.” – called you out, touching his forehead briefly. It stinged but he tried to not let you see it. – “It’s nothing.” – reassured he you, taking your hand in his.
“How… how is it that you are here?” – questioned you, laying in Benedicts arms on the grass. Your head resting against his chest while he cherished you in his embrace. – “We heard them talk about their plans.” – replied Anthony out of breath. You snuggled closer to Benedict, seeking comfort. You didn’t want to say it, but it frightened you how you were still not out of the clear. It was never simple with the two of you. Always an obstacle in the way that would prevent you from loving. A cruel society, one more turning their back on you. Benedict noticed the doubts reflecting in your eyes as he tilted your chin up to him. – “Don’t go refusing me again, Y/n. My heart can’t take it.” – chuckled he out. – “I won’t… not this time.” – responded you, looking deep into his eyes. – “I am not afraid anymore.”
Eloise clamped onto her brother with a smile on her face. Trees of blossom were spreading their petals through the wind. It was a happy day for everyone as two would be reunited into one. Benedict and you were ready to say your vows. To no longer be two, but one. For one cannot stand without the other. With pride in his eyes, gazed Benedict upon your arrival. You were dressed in all white, holding onto your father’s arm. He was being supported by a cane as his body had not healed up properly yet from the incident.
He guided you towards your intended. Eloise let go of her brother as Benedict extended his hand out to you. You let yours slip into his, walking up to him. – “Are you ready my love?“ - whispered he to you. – “You can always turn back now before you are bound to me.” – chuckled you out. – “Not a chance.” – responded he, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. Taking his arm, allowed you him to guide you inside. It was a small ceremony, just those close to you present. You sealed you vows with a kiss as loud cheering filled the church.
Outside hugged you everyone before your departure with your newly wedded husband. Never in a million years did you think you would call one husband. You thought no one would love you with what you carried, but one did. And one phenomenal one indeed. You couldn’t have wished for a better person to love. You finally found yourself worthy of being loved. Gregory bowed before you with a saddened face. – “Aw Gregory.” – said you, kneeling down to him.
He threw your arms around your neck, moving your arms around him. – “I’ll miss you.” – whispered he into your ear. You moved his head back, wiping a tear of his cheek. – “I’ll miss you too dear Gregory, but I promise to invite you soon as you…” – you touched his nose with your finger brief. – “don’t forget to invite me to tea as many times as you like.” – That made him laugh between his tears. You pulled yourself back up, taking Benedicts hand. You waved everyone goodbye one last time before heading off.
The wood in the fireplace was crackling delightful. You stood before it, warming your hands up to it. Benedict approached you from behind, letting his fingers go up your arm. His face buried in the crook of your neck. There he planted a kiss. A soft kiss that made you smile. His hands slowly lowered towards your waist, leaving another kiss in your neck. He pushed some fabric aside over your shoulder to kiss it as well. You melted at his touch that send shivers up your spine. – “My dear wife.” – breathed he out, kissing your bare shoulder again.
You turned around, laying your arms around his neck. – “My dear husband.” – replied you, staring dreamingly at him. He brought his lips down towards yours, whilst holding onto you firmly. He started guiding you away from the fireplace, his lips forever on yours. Kissing him with such longing, it made your heart beat out of your chest. You could feel the pounding of his heart against yours, beating for one another. Standing close by the bed, guided he his hands up. He unbuttoned you, dropping your dress to the floor. His hands then started to fumble the ribbon of your corset. You guided your hands down to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt.
With one smooth pull, untied he the knot at the top of your corset. You giggled against his lips at how eager he was. Benedict kept kissing you whilst trying to tear the corset off you. It slipped off as he let it drop to the ground. You carefully stepped out of it, standing only in your undergarments. Benedict’s hand laid against your back, feeling your warm skin underneath his palm. For the first time, felt he truly close to you. Feeling every bit of your core. You stopped kissing him for a moment, holding him as he guided his lips to your neck. He kept kissing you uncontrollably as your body warmed up by his touch.
You gasped quietly at the sudden sense. It felt unsettling as you questioned it at first if it was real. Benedict stopped kissing you, placing his hand against your cheek. – “Are you alright Y/n?” – questioned he, sensing something was off. You fluttered with your eyelashes, winching at the sting of pain coming from inside of you. You bend down, gripping onto his shirt as you held your stomach. It was happening again. One of your episodes at the worst timing. A sting of pain went through your entire body, making you collapse through your knees. Benedict gasped, preventing you from falling.
You pushed him away, falling onto the ground. He stared at you in shock, hoping you wouldn’t turn him away again. You crawled back against a closet, coughing loud. Your entire body shivering from the intense pain as Benedict witnessed your condition firsthand. You kept coughing loud, unable to stop as you let your fingers slide down your throat. Wheezing were you grasping for breath. It was like your lungs were on hold, not working for a moment as you felt like suffocating. Benedict rushed to your side, kneeling beside you. – “Breath Y/n, breath!” – called he out in a state of panic.
Your head laid back, grasping for air. You witnessed the concern in his eyes, slowly cracking him. Then gasped you loud, screaming in tears. You let your head fall forwards against Benedict’s arm, crying loud. – “Please….” – begged you him. A part of you still wanted to seclude this from him. Shield him from the pain inside of you. Your body twitched, coughing loud in your hand. Benedict was in slight shock, not knowing what to do. It was clear that he was no match for your illness. – “Please…” – begged you again, wanting him to turn a blind eye. Benedict shook his head firmly, inhaling deeply.
“I promised to love you in sickness and in health.” – replied he, letting his palm go upwards your cheek. – “What must I do?” – whispered he to you. You pointed lifelessly at the bed, unable to control your tears. Benedict carefully picked you up from the ground, leading you over to the bed. He laid you down, staring bewildered at you. You took his hand, pulling it down. You wanted him to lay beside you. So he did, laying himself carefully beside you. You rolled over to your side, pulling his hand over your body. Benedict understood what you meant, crawling closer against your body. He slid his arm underneath your body so that he could fully hold you close.
You cried in terror, wishing for the pain to go away. The pain that made every muscle in your body sting. Benedict kept his body firmly against yours, burying his face in your hair, closing his eyes. He felt the shocks your body made against his, making him grip onto you firmer. Fearing that if he faltered, you might slip away from him. – “I love you Y/n.” – said he, kissing the back of your shoulder. He wanted you to know you are so loved, even in a state like this. He thought he would be scared and at first, he was. Laying here with you, gave him the strength to carry on. He understood that you needed him, that he needed to be the better man. If this was what a life spending with you meant. Then he would gladly spend it like this. In time he would learn to pick up any of your signals better to ease your way through it.
“I am sorry…” – said you between coughs. – “What for?” – asked he, lifting his head a bit up. – “For ruining our wedding night…” – Benedict kissed your neck gently. – “Our night is not ruined my love. I say it brought me closer to you in any way possible.” – you cracked up a tiny smile, finding some joy between your pain. – “Besides I shall have from now on every night with you. You might find me annoying one day when you wish not to sleep so tightly in my embrace.” – chuckled he out. You rolled a bit over to your back, looking up to him. – “I could never…” – whispered you to him. Benedict lowered his head, kissing your forehead as you felt so weak. – “I’ll watch over you…” – said he, making you exhale deep. You rolled back to the side, clamping onto his arms around you. Like a cocoon were you held safe in his embrace. Where nothing bad could ever touch you.
Just a collection of a few fics that I really really like. None of them are mine obviously. Most of them are reader inserts unless marked otherwise. Mostly female reader inserts.
When stated 18+ DO NOT PROCEED AS A MINOR
☆ fluff, ◇ angst/sad, * smut, ♡ personal favourite (even tho most of them are my favs)
(unfinished and unedited, if a link doesn’t work tell me in the comments)
Lord Egerton was certainly a most excellent host, thought Benedict.
Blackburn Hall (Egerton’s country estate) was populated by several “esteemed” members of London society; weeping widowers, longing spinsters, an array of almost-debuted ladies (their mothers behind them like puppeteers), and “wife-seeking” gentlemen frolicked in the grand ballroom.
Strange people, the second eldest Bridgerton thought. Perfectly intolerable, yet somehow entertaining.
From the corner of his eye, Benedict studied them. He surveyed the attendees, making a mental note of which to avoid and which to engage with in civil conversation (though thatlist was predominantly shorter).
Lady Dowding (a significantly large woman) struggled to find a man suitable enough for her daughter, Victoria. Or rather, Lady Dowding couldn’t find a gentleman that could withstand Victoria’s blubbering mouth for any longer than a mere minute.
Lord Godwin (of five and fifty) drowned himself in the lemonade, having been widowed the previous week. Though, “widowed” and “being left for the innkeeper” appeared to have been one in the same in Lord Godwin’s mind.
Lord Egerton definitely attracted a crowd, Benedict mused.
“Poor Lord Godwin,” Eloise muttered, startling Benedict (as he hadn’t noticed her presence). She stood at his side, rocking back-and-forth on her heels. “I’ve heard from Lady Whistledown that he nearly wet himself at Lady Keats’ engagement party last Tuesday.”
“Lady Keats is engaged?” asked Benedict, looking down at his sister.
“Yes,” Eloise stated. “Though, for the third time.”
Benedict nodded, catching sight of the Lady Keats (previously Lady Langley, non-Lady Moore) as she clung to an absurdly older man (presumably Lord Keats). The woman flaunted her large, sparkling engagement ring to the party in attendance.
“Where’s Mother?” Eloise asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Flaunting Daphne, of course. Her debut is tomorrow, remember?” Benedict searched the gallery, spotting his mother and eldest sister. “Unless, you’ve forgotten.”
Eloise scoffed.
“I haven’t forgotten,” she stated. Eloise followed Benedict’s gaze, watching as Daphne charmed the gentlemen surrounding her. “I just don’t care.”
Benedict laughed, nudging Eloise with his elbow.
“This is dreadful,” she muttered, referring to the party. “Might I ask you to plead to Mother for my release?” Eloise asked Benedict, tugging on his arm.
“And rid myself of thisenthralling experience?” Benedict’s tone was laced in sarcasm. “Never.”
Eloise dramatically released his arm, groaning in annoyance.
Benedict snickered.
“You don’t find Lord Cambridge’s terrible dancing the least bit entertaining?” he asked. The two Bridgertons glanced at the said-Lord, giggling as he stepped on the feet of a young woman. “Poor girl,” Benedict whispered.
Eloise nodded, beginning to feel a dryness in her mouth. She smacked her lips, quite “un-ladylike.”
“I’m rather thirsty,” she announced. Eloise looked to the refreshments table, and her eyes went wide in horror. Lord Godwin (howling about his “late” wife) had buried his nose in the lemonade bowl. “On second thought,” she murmured, “I’m suddenly thoroughly hydrated.”
Benedict followed her eyes, watching as Lord Egerton escorted the old, sodden fool away from Blackburn Hall.
“I’m beginning to see from your perspective,” he stated.
“You always do,” Eloise triumphantly said.
Suddenly, Benedict heard a shrilling “Lord Bridgerton!” from the other side of the room. To his dismay, Lady Dowding was approaching him (her daughter at her side).
Eloise winced at her attire, as it was almost painful. She felt nauseous at the green—no, chartreuse shade of fabric Lady Dowding chose to adorn.
“Fantastic,” Eloise mumbled.
“Lord Bridgerton!” Lady Dowding shouted, despite being a near few feet away from him.
Out of respect, Benedict bowed.
“Lady Dowding.”
“Miss Bridgerton,” the old woman quickly (and rather haphazardly) acknowledged Eloise’s presence. But swiftly, she reverted her attention back to Benedict. Lady Dowding clumsily pushed her daughter forward, nearly causing her to trip and fall (a sight that Eloise wouldn’t have minded seeing). “My daughter, Victoria. Have you met?”
Victoria was fairly handsome, but the assortment of colorful feathers throughout her hair did not compliment her features.
She looks rather like a goose, Benedict thought. Or a peacock.
Benedict shook his head, forcing his face not to contort into a frown.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” he stated. “Lady Victoria.”
“Lord Bridgerton!” Victoria exclaimed. “It is a beautiful night, is it not? So dark, yet so bright! Romantic.”
At this moment, Benedict pondered death. He’d thought about drowning himself in the lemonade, too.
“Yes,” Benedict muttered. “Quite.” He turned to the side, catching Eloise with her gloved hand to her mouth (preventing her from laughing).
“Victoria is a splendid dancer,” Lady Dowding said. “She was the talk of Lord Byron’s Spring Ball, just last season!” she victoriously declared.
“It’s true!” Victoria agreed. “I’ve the ‘legs of swan,’ or so Mama says.”
“Yes,” Eloise chimed in. “And the hair of one, too.”
Snapping her head in Eloise’s direction, Lady Dowding produced a terrible scowl.
Benedict pulled his sister to his side, causing a loud “oompf!” to leave her lips.
“Pardon me, Lady Dowding. My sister has a special sense of humor,” he said in an attempt to ease the tension. “I say, is Mother asking for our presence?” he asked.
“What?” Eloise asked, confused.
Benedict leaned down, so only Eloise could hear him.
“Go with it, will you?” he whispered.
“Oh, you’re quite right!” Eloise quickly shouted. “She’s just there!” she lied, pointing at the sea of patrons.
Benedict smiled, turning to the Lady Dowding and her daughter.
“You’re absolutely right, brother. We cannot,” Eloise concurred.
The (poorly dressed) Dowding women nodded, and Benedict did not ignore the disappointment that painted Victoria’s face. He felt relived, in truth.
“You’re a menace, you know?” Benedict spoke to Eloise, walking away from Victoria and her mother. “You must think before you speak.”
“But I did think,” Eloise defended. “I thought she looked like a bird.”
“With that, I cannot disagree.” Benedict sighed, looking into the crowd. “We’ve lost them.”
Eloise sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“For now,” she stated. “I’m forever thankful that Mother has delayed my debut.”
“As are the men of London,” Benedict joked.
Eloise stared at her older brother, jaw slack.
“Cruel, Benedict. Just cruel.”
Benedict’s eyes crinkled as he laughed, a beautiful crescent shape gracing his features.
“Oh!” Eloise exclaimed. She looked over Benedict’s shoulder, waving frantically. “There’s Penelope.”
Benedict turned around, spotting the Featherington girl. She wore a yellow dress, as usual (her mother did enjoy “happy” colors). It did not compliment her complexion, nor her red hair.
“Good luck, brother. You’ll need it,” Eloise said.
“Whatever for?” Benedict asked.
“The women of the ton, mothers and daughters alike. Do you forget your public status, Benedict?” the chestnut-haired girl asked.
Benedict chuckled.
“Of course not, Eloise. I am a Bridgerton.”
“Ah!” Eloise exclaimed. “There’s a potential bride, now. Multiple brides, rather.” She gestured to a group of women, all whispering and glancing at Benedict. “You’re right. This is enthralling,” she sneered, then left to join Penelope.
As Eloise disappeared, the group of women slowly approached the handsome Bridgerton.
“Bollocks,” Benedict mumbled. He desperately searched for an escape, wanting to flee from the wanton pleads for his hand and courtship.
Finally (and thankfully), he noticed an empty hallway to his left.
Without hesitation, Benedict abandoned the dance floor. He could hear the various, feminine shouts of “Lord Bridgerton!” behind him, but he thought nothing of them.
Benedict found a door at the end of the hallway, and (thinking it to be a safe option) opened it.
Quietly, he shut the door behind him. Benedict took a moment to breathe; his forehead rested against the dark wood of the door. Relief washed over him, and he slowly turned around to face the room.
Surprisingly, it was a library that met his eyes.
It was quaint and rather beautiful, but it wasn’t nearly as elegant as the library at Aubrey Hall. Still, it was beautiful.
Several bookshelves lined the walls, furnished with a wide arrangement of novels. Specks of dust floated throughout the room (highlighted by the orange tint of candlelight), followed by the scent of ink and oak filling his nostrils.
Benedict stepped further into the room, and he felt the wood creak beneath his feet.
It’s an old room, he surmised.
Benedict looked up, impressed by the length of the bookshelves. They were tall, nearly reaching the ceiling.
Drifting to the shelves, he ran his fingers over the books. They were old, too. He noticed the bent spines, the torn edges, and the tea-stained covers.
There must be hundreds, Benedict thought. And a variety of genres, as well.
The Lord Egerton was intelligent, surely. But he couldn’t possibly of had the time to indulge in reading on the regular occasion, as he was a very busy man.
Benedict moved to another shelf, spotting a copy of Mental Philosophy: Including the Intellect, Sensibilities, and Will. He scoffed, picking up the book from it’s place. Lazily, he skimmed through the pages. Benedict took note of Lord Egerton’s sloppy penmanship in the margin, concluding that he’d read the book often.
Boring.
After placing the grievous thing back on the shelf, Benedict meandered to the shelves within the center of the library. Again, he delicately dragged his fingers over the old works. One book (red in color and small in size) piqued Benedict’s interest. He pulled it from it’s home, and he looked at the place from which he took the book. A pair of eyes met his own, and he let out a loud shriek. Following his scream, a sudden “ahh!” echoed throughout the library.
At that moment, Benedict understood the weight of words. Well, mainly because he’d dropped the book on his foot and couldn’t feel his toes (he thanked God it was the small book he’d dropped and not the large philosophy text), but nonetheless. He hopped on one foot, holding the other in his hand.
“Damn!” Benedict shouted.
Eventually, he let go of his foot. He scoffed, unable to flex his toes.
The annoyed Bridgerton bent down, picked up his dropped book, and maneuvered to the other side of the shelf.
“I say—!” he began, but his voice was caught in his throat.
A girl, young and seemingly terrified, crouched in a “fetal position” on the floor. She held her knees to her chest, and she hid her face from Benedict’s sight.
“Am I ‘alright?’” the girl retorted, looking up at him.
As she met his eyes, Benedict felt an unexpected pain in his chest. A good pain, surely. Because his heart started to slam against his ribcage.
What is this?
Benedict took in a sharp breath, examining the girl’s features.
She was beautiful.
“You, sir, gave me quite the fright!” she exclaimed, laughing.
Her laugh, Benedict thought, sounds like music.
The Bridgerton cleared his throat and looked down at his feet, slightly embarrassed.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I believe you frightened me, as well.”
“I would’ve made myself present, but I hadn’t heard you enter.”
“Yes,” Benedict muttered. “My stealth is unmatched.”
The girl smiled, affectively charmed by Benedict’s wit.
She’s smiling, Benedict observed. My God, I want her to always smile.
“‘Stealth?’ You’re not hiding, are you?” she asked, standing.
“Protecting myself, more so. ‘Hiding’ makes me sound like a coward.”
A laugh left her lips, and Benedict (once again) found himself loving the sound.
He looked to the floor, catching sight of a glove beside her feet. Kneeling down, Benedict picked up the fabric, then he stood and rubbed the white material between his fingers.
“I believe,” he held it out to her, “you dropped this.”
Graciously, she took it from him.
“Thank you,” she said.
Benedict nodded, and he glanced at the book in her grasp.
“Pride and Prejudice,” he read aloud. “That’s the romance novel, is it not?”
“It is!” she exclaimed, her tone light and airy.
Benedict took note of the sparkle in her eyes, and he wanted to swim in her gaze forever.
“Miss Austen is a gifted writer, and she’s an inspiration for many women.” She looked to the book, smiling adoringly.
Benedict smiled, too.
“Have you read it?” she asked.
He had.
“I cannot say I have,” Benedict replied.
The girl nodded.
“Have you come here to read, then?” he asked.
A bit of a stupid question, Benedict thought. They were in a library.
“For the quiet, mostly.”
The Bridgerton nodded, and he watched as the girl attempted to straighten out her wrinkled gown.
“Do you not like dancing?” Benedict questioned.
“Oh, no!” she said. “I love it, but I’ve grown tired. My mother has me attend every ball—every party, as most young ladies. Each season, it’s the same dances, and the same men, and the same…everything.”
So, tomorrow will not be her first season. How have I not noticed her before?
Benedict nodded, and he came to realize he related to her words.
“But you’re different.”
“I’m happy to be of service,” Benedict jested. “You’re not married, then?” the chestnut-haired boy asked.
However, the girl did not answer.
She only stared at Benedict, trying to process the intention of his words.
“Forgive me,” Benedict said.
Too forward? Too fast? I hope I was not too fast. I’d surely die if—!
“It’s quite alright!” she said. “I’m not married, but I am content.”
I am relieved.
Benedict grinned, boyish and innocent.
“You’ve yet to meet your Mr. Darcy, then?”
She quizzically stared at him, fighting back another smile.
“I thought you hadn’t read Pride and Prejudice?” she questioned.
“Did I say that?”
Had I said that? I don’t remember saying that.
The girl laughed, then she looked at Benedict’s side.
“Poetry?” the girl quired, referring to the red book in his hand.
Benedict raised his brow, then felt the book in his palm. He’d forgotten about the blasted thing, and the aching in his foot returned.
“Oh!” he interjected. “Yes, poetry. Good, good poetry.”
“By who?” she asked.
He hadn’t looked.
“It’s a collection, actually. Various authors,” he lied.
I’m nervous, he thought. Why am I nervous?
“That’s beautiful,” she said.
You’re beautiful.
“I do love poetry,” the girl stated.
“As do I,” Benedict added.
A tremble took over Benedict’s bottom lip, and he opened his mouth to speak before—“knock! knock! knock!”
Benedict’s head turned to the door, and he heard Eloise’s familiar voice.
“Benedict!” she shouted, vibrations traveling through the wood. “Brother, I know you’re in there! Mother has released us from thisinsufferableprison!”
The elder Bridgerton looked at the girl (the one in front of him), and he laughed.
She laughed, too.
What wouldn’t I do to hear her laugh?
“I can hear you!” his sister exclaimed. “Come on, Benedict! I’d like to be home before I’m of a hundred and three!“
He heard Eloise’s retreating footsteps grow quieter, and quieter, and quieter.
“She’s gone, I believe.”
Benedict grinned widely, drawing his focus back to the girl.
I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave.
“Well, you shouldn’t let her wait.”
Heartily, Benedict laughed.
“No, I shouldn’t. Enjoy your reading, Miss…?” he trailed off, dying to know her name.
She smiled.
She’s only smiling, Benedict thought. She’s only smiling, and she’s stolen my very breath.
“(L/N). (Y/N) (L/N),” she said. “Lord…?”
“Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton.”
She nodded.
“Enjoy your poetry, Lord Bridgerton.”
How can a voice sound so sweet? It is Heaven.
“Lady (L/N).”
Hesitantly, Benedict walked to the door. He twisted the knob, hating the weight of it in his free hand.
Benedict turned back, a sudden spasm of energy prevalent in his body.
My soul is on fire.
“Miss (L/N)?” he called out.
(Y/N) peered out from behind the bookshelf.
“Yes, Lord Bridgerton?” she replied.
Benedict thought (just for a moment), then wet his lips with his tongue.
“‘A girl likes to be crossed in love now and then,’” he quoted. “’It is something to think of.’”
(Y/N) smiled, a joyful scoff leaving her lips.
“Youhave read it,” she surmised.
Benedict playfully smirked, then left the library.
With the door shut, Benedict rested his back against the wood. He stood in the hallway, alone with his thoughts. Specifically, he thought of his encounter with (Y/N).
Benedict closed his eyes, basking in the warm glow of love. He bit his bottom lip, a feeling similar to a sunburn gracing his face.
(Y/N). (Y/N). (Y/N). (Y/N).
Benedict felt—in his heart—that something glorious had just occurred.
Requests are now open! I previously wrote on Wattpad where I got over 200K views but I have since deleted my work due to the data breach and the fact I wrote it years ago and I believe my writing has improved vastly. (Well I hope so, lol).
Unfortunately, I am a bit rusty, which means I will only write the minimum of one thousand words per request. I also enjoy writing in detail, sorry if you do not like that.
I decided to keep my Secondary Blog as a Middle-Earth/Tolkien one!
I previously took a break, for personal reasons, but I have mustered the confidence to return. I apologise if I did not write your requests before, I feel awful, and please FEEL FREE to send them in again - there appears to be an error with my ask box and most of my requests have disappeared.
What do I write?
I write ‘x readers’.
I will also write for ships - for example, Harry Potter (as I know the most about the couples in it). I will also write ‘Jily’, (for Harry Potter) because that is superior.
What fandoms do I write for on my main blog?
Harry Potter (all Eras)
Narnia
Netflix Bridgerton
What fandoms to I write for on this blog?
The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings
Pleaserequest here if you have any requests for these fandoms, same rules apply, or simply click on my blog on the ask button @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin.
(You can ask me if there are any other fandoms I write for, but these are my main ones)
Rules:
I do have rules and limits, as there are things that make my uncomfortable.
:)
I write for all genders and sexualities, as well as body types, etc. Discrimination is not welcomed here.
No hate! If you don’t like my work, please don’t be rude about it. I have tried my hardest and whilst I appreciate constructive feedback, bullying and hate is just rude. I have never and will never attend to offend anyone or make them uncomfortable, I always try to put in the right tags also. If there are any issues, please put them in my ask box (however, it may be a few days until I reply as I don’t look in there until I have completed my current request) I apologise in advance and it is most likely due to an error or accident. Thank you :)
If I make an error, please message me privately - I once had an autocorrect issue where a tag went to ‘teddy lupin x male reader’ on my blog when it was for a female reader as I was in a rush and did not realise I had already done the female tag. I am sorry again and an issue like this will never happen again, and I shall always double check from now on.
I will never write anything underage so please request someone who is of age. I won’t mention anything triggering in too much detail as I don’t want to upset anyone. I will not write (describe) rape, it will always be consensual.
If there is anything triggering, I will mention at the top. Remember, I love you guys.
I am trying to improve my smut skills, but writing it does make me uncomfortable. I won’t write anything messed up, too graphic, dark, or kinky or to do with rape.
Please do not copy or share my work in your own books or on another website! This is my hard work, and my writing. It should only be found on this blog. So please don’t. I find it very annoying and rude. (This includes futures and previous works)
You will only find my work here. (I realise I emphasise this and I’m sorry)
Please include the gender, and which person you would prefer it in as I don’t want to annoy you if I make an error (I usually write in third person but if you do not prefer this, please say so). It can also be very difficult to write without this. Please include anything else which you find necessary to apply.
When you request I will make it time appropriate to the movie or show unless stated otherwise. However, can you please clarify when you want it, for example, if the show spans over a number of years. If it isn’t necessary then I will just set it after. :)
I will always try to use the spelling and slang from where it is set.
Unless if I say other wise, your request should be posted within the week.
Have a wonderful day. I can’t remember any other rules right now but it’s like 3am.
Thank you!
Author is always me on this blog: @daydreams-magic01and@daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin as I have decided to keep as a Tolkien blog for requests, and in that case only future Tolkien work should only be found on there, and all previous Tolkien work as well as all my other requests should only be found on my main blog. No where else.
Please say if you wanted to be added to a tag list.
Please feel free to request on my main blog unless you have any Hobbit and Lord of the Rings requests and wish to see me having a Tolkien blog, then do it on this one, haha. (That link is to my previous Lotr and Hobbit Masterlist).
Please say if you wanted to be added to a tag list.
Requests are now open! I previously wrote on Wattpad where I got over 200K views but I have since deleted my work due to the data breach and the fact I wrote it years ago and I believe my writing has improved vastly. (Well I hope so, lol).
Unfortunately, I am a bit rusty, which means I will only write the minimum of one thousand words per request. I also enjoy writing in detail, sorry if you do not like that.
I decided to keep my Secondary Blog as a Middle-Earth/Tolkien one!
I previously took a break, for personal reasons, but I have mustered the confidence to return. I apologise if I did not write your requests before, I feel awful, and please FEEL FREE to send them in again - there appears to be an error with my ask box and most of my requests have disappeared.
What do I write?
I write ‘x readers’.
I will also write for ships - for example, Harry Potter (as I know the most about the couples in it). I will also write ‘Jily’, (for Harry Potter) because that is superior.
What fandoms do I write for on my main blog?
Harry Potter (all Eras)
Narnia
Netflix Bridgerton
What fandoms to I write for on this blog?
The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings
Pleaserequest here if you have any requests for these fandoms, same rules apply, or simply click on my blog on the ask button @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin.
(You can ask me if there are any other fandoms I write for, but these are my main ones)
Rules:
I do have rules and limits, as there are things that make my uncomfortable.
:)
I write for all genders and sexualities, as well as body types, etc. Discrimination is not welcomed here.
No hate! If you don’t like my work, please don’t be rude about it. I have tried my hardest and whilst I appreciate constructive feedback, bullying and hate is just rude. I have never and will never attend to offend anyone or make them uncomfortable, I always try to put in the right tags also. If there are any issues, please put them in my ask box (however, it may be a few days until I reply as I don’t look in there until I have completed my current request) I apologise in advance and it is most likely due to an error or accident. Thank you :)
If I make an error, please message me privately - I once had an autocorrect issue where a tag went to ‘teddy lupin x male reader’ on my blog when it was for a female reader as I was in a rush and did not realise I had already done the female tag. I am sorry again and an issue like this will never happen again, and I shall always double check from now on.
I will never write anything underage so please request someone who is of age. I won’t mention anything triggering in too much detail as I don’t want to upset anyone. I will not write (describe) rape, it will always be consensual.
If there is anything triggering, I will mention at the top. Remember, I love you guys.
I am trying to improve my smut skills, but writing it does make me uncomfortable. I won’t write anything messed up, too graphic, dark, or kinky or to do with rape.
Please do not copy or share my work in your own books or on another website! This is my hard work, and my writing. It should only be found on this blog. So please don’t. I find it very annoying and rude. (This includes futures and previous works)
You will only find my work here. (I realise I emphasise this and I’m sorry)
Please include the gender, and which person you would prefer it in as I don’t want to annoy you if I make an error (I usually write in third person but if you do not prefer this, please say so). It can also be very difficult to write without this. Please include anything else which you find necessary to apply.
When you request I will make it time appropriate to the movie or show unless stated otherwise. However, can you please clarify when you want it, for example, if the show spans over a number of years. If it isn’t necessary then I will just set it after. :)
I will always try to use the spelling and slang from where it is set.
Unless if I say other wise, your request should be posted within the week.
Have a wonderful day. I can’t remember any other rules right now but it’s like 3am.
Thank you!
Author is always me on this blog: @daydreams-magic01and@daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin as I have decided to keep as a Tolkien blog for requests, and in that case only future Tolkien work should only be found on there, and all previous Tolkien work as well as all my other requests should only be found on my main blog. No where else.
Please say if you wanted to be added to a tag list.
Please feel free to request on my main blog unless you have any Hobbit and Lord of the Rings requests and wish to see me having a Tolkien blog, then do it on this one, haha. (That link is to my previous Lotr and Hobbit Masterlist).
Please say if you wanted to be added to a tag list.
Disclaimer: These are fanfictions, however, the scenarios, dialogue, etc are of mine creation. Please do not copy or plagiarise my work, my work should only be found on this blog, nowhere else. I have also tried my best at writing British, etc.
I am open to suggestions, so if there are any other fandoms you want to see yo write for, feel welcome to ask on my ‘Request’ section. If you want to be added to a taglist, please do the same.
they’re not the only ones iii | benedict bridgerton
Summary: 4 times your life with Benedict changed for the better, and the 1 time it stayed the same (or, four life changing moments pre and post marrying Benedict, and one extra fluffy moment of pure domestic bliss)…
Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Warning(s): another 4 + 1??? oops I know, fluff (lots of it), mild angst, you know the drill by now
A/n: hi lovelies! The third part is finally here! I’m not sure I like it as much as the first two (I struggled a lot writing it and self doubt started to creep in as always), but I just wanted to thank you all for being so kind and so patient with me. It means the world! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback are much appreciated <3
Anthony’s eyes trail across his mother’s sitting room, most of her eight children apart from Gregory and Hyacinth, are conversing amongst each other. He finds himself sitting idly beside Kate, Daphne and Simon across from them. He picks his nails in disinterest.
Now, not to be rude, he’s sure they’re having a lovely conversation full of important things he should be listening to, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to focus on it. Instead, their voices meld into nothing, simply static in the brainwaves of his mind.
they’re not the only ones iii | benedict bridgerton
Summary: 4 times your life with Benedict changed for the better, and the 1 time it stayed the same (or, four life changing moments pre and post marrying Benedict, and one extra fluffy moment of pure domestic bliss)…
Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Warning(s): another 4 + 1??? oops I know, fluff (lots of it), mild angst, you know the drill by now
A/n: hi lovelies! The third part is finally here! I’m not sure I like it as much as the first two (I struggled a lot writing it and self doubt started to creep in as always), but I just wanted to thank you all for being so kind and so patient with me. It means the world! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback are much appreciated <3
Anthony’s eyes trail across his mother’s sitting room, most of her eight children apart from Gregory and Hyacinth, are conversing amongst each other. He finds himself sitting idly beside Kate, Daphne and Simon across from them. He picks his nails in disinterest.
Now, not to be rude, he’s sure they’re having a lovely conversation full of important things he should be listening to, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to focus on it. Instead, their voices meld into nothing, simply static in the brainwaves of his mind.
they’re not the only ones iii | benedict bridgerton
Summary: 4 times your life with Benedict changed for the better, and the 1 time it stayed the same (or, four life changing moments pre and post marrying Benedict, and one extra fluffy moment of pure domestic bliss)…
Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Warning(s): another 4 + 1??? oops I know, fluff (lots of it), mild angst, you know the drill by now
A/n: hi lovelies! The third part is finally here! I’m not sure I like it as much as the first two (I struggled a lot writing it and self doubt started to creep in as always), but I just wanted to thank you all for being so kind and so patient with me. It means the world! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback are much appreciated <3
Anthony’s eyes trail across his mother’s sitting room, most of her eight children apart from Gregory and Hyacinth, are conversing amongst each other. He finds himself sitting idly beside Kate, Daphne and Simon across from them. He picks his nails in disinterest.
Now, not to be rude, he’s sure they’re having a lovely conversation full of important things he should be listening to, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to focus on it. Instead, their voices meld into nothing, simply static in the brainwaves of his mind.
they’re not the only ones iii | benedict bridgerton
Summary: 4 times your life with Benedict changed for the better, and the 1 time it stayed the same (or, four life changing moments pre and post marrying Benedict, and one extra fluffy moment of pure domestic bliss)…
Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Warning(s): another 4 + 1??? oops I know, fluff (lots of it), mild angst, you know the drill by now
A/n: hi lovelies! The third part is finally here! I’m not sure I like it as much as the first two (I struggled a lot writing it and self doubt started to creep in as always), but I just wanted to thank you all for being so kind and so patient with me. It means the world! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback are much appreciated <3
Anthony’s eyes trail across his mother’s sitting room, most of her eight children apart from Gregory and Hyacinth, are conversing amongst each other. He finds himself sitting idly beside Kate, Daphne and Simon across from them. He picks his nails in disinterest.
Now, not to be rude, he’s sure they’re having a lovely conversation full of important things he should be listening to, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to focus on it. Instead, their voices meld into nothing, simply static in the brainwaves of his mind.
they’re not the only ones iii | benedict bridgerton
Summary: 4 times your life with Benedict changed for the better, and the 1 time it stayed the same (or, four life changing moments pre and post marrying Benedict, and one extra fluffy moment of pure domestic bliss)…
Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Warning(s): another 4 + 1??? oops I know, fluff (lots of it), mild angst, you know the drill by now
A/n: hi lovelies! The third part is finally here! I’m not sure I like it as much as the first two (I struggled a lot writing it and self doubt started to creep in as always), but I just wanted to thank you all for being so kind and so patient with me. It means the world! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback are much appreciated <3
Anthony’s eyes trail across his mother’s sitting room, most of her eight children apart from Gregory and Hyacinth, are conversing amongst each other. He finds himself sitting idly beside Kate, Daphne and Simon across from them. He picks his nails in disinterest.
Now, not to be rude, he’s sure they’re having a lovely conversation full of important things he should be listening to, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to focus on it. Instead, their voices meld into nothing, simply static in the brainwaves of his mind.
they’re not the only ones iii | benedict bridgerton
Summary: 4 times your life with Benedict changed for the better, and the 1 time it stayed the same (or, four life changing moments pre and post marrying Benedict, and one extra fluffy moment of pure domestic bliss)…
Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Warning(s): another 4 + 1??? oops I know, fluff (lots of it), mild angst, you know the drill by now
A/n: hi lovelies! The third part is finally here! I’m not sure I like it as much as the first two (I struggled a lot writing it and self doubt started to creep in as always), but I just wanted to thank you all for being so kind and so patient with me. It means the world! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback are much appreciated <3
Anthony’s eyes trail across his mother’s sitting room, most of her eight children apart from Gregory and Hyacinth, are conversing amongst each other. He finds himself sitting idly beside Kate, Daphne and Simon across from them. He picks his nails in disinterest.
Now, not to be rude, he’s sure they’re having a lovely conversation full of important things he should be listening to, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to focus on it. Instead, their voices meld into nothing, simply static in the brainwaves of his mind.
His breathing slows into a shallow rhythm as his line of sight drifts, further and further to the left, until it hits you. You’re laughing at something Benedict has said, nearly doubled over in glee. It’s not an unusual occurrence, but it strikes him suddenly.
Everything seems to be normal, he supposes, and yet it feels oddly so. Anthony cannot for the life of him describe it, but there’s this nagging feeling in his chest that’s telling him, screaming at him: something’s different.
Benedict’s hand resting on your knee, the carefree echo in your laugh, the twinkle in both of your eyes, it’s almost regular, almost like it always has been between you, but Anthony would put his life on it, there’s been a shift. It’s almost like….
In a split second, Anthony perks up in his seat, startling his wife and causing three pairs of eyes to snap to him.
“Anthony, are you alright?” The three of them inquire. He ignores them, his revelation much too important to lose focus on.
You know. He thinks. You and Benedict, you’re together. And not just in the sense that you’re sitting beside each other, enjoying one another’s company, no. Anthony Bridgerton is no man’s fool, romance, love, desire, it’s all present in your body language. You and Benedict are no longer just friends.
A smile spreads across his face, maniacal with a hint of amusement. Equally, in his heart, he’s happy. Anthony cannot think of two people who belong together more, and yet he wonders, why haven’t you told anyone yet?
He decides, if you won’t, he’s going to. Oh, he salivates at the thought, the fun he could have with this…
Abruptly standing, he waves off Kate’s protests of concern as he edges his way closer to the other side of the room, leaving his wife and the Bassets behind in confusion. Plopping himself down on the couch where you, Benedict, and Eloise are sitting, he eyes Colin and Penelope who are sat across from the three of you.
“Brother!” Colin exclaims. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
You can feel Anthony’s amber orbs burning a hole through you, his voice utterly clinical as he says, “I’m testing a theory.” He’s observing you, and you don’t like it in the slightest.
“A theory?” Eloise closes her book in excitement. “And what might that be?”
Anthony’s gaze narrows and his jaw clicks in focus. He’s debating whether he should be forthcoming with his suspicions, or if he should keep toying with you a little longer. It could be fun to watch you squirm. But then again, outing your secret relationship, with no warning at that, might be more shocking, and even more fun.
He decides to go for the former, revealing, “Two people in this room, are recently engaged.”
Your eyes fly to Benedict’s in a brief panic. Both of your gazes read the same: how could Anthony have possibly figured it out? It’s not like either of you have been obvious about it. As far as you’re aware, you’ve kept everything the same, oblivious pining included.
Now, before he can pat himself on the back too much, Anthony hadn’t been sure of your engagement before he’d said anything. He’d simply assumed, (a dangerous game to play when one is uncertain), and decided to take the risk by voicing that assumption. But based on the premise that Benedict looks like his life has flashed before his eyes, and that he’s gone so white he could rival any ghost, Anthony knows he’d been bang on the money. He’s quite proud of himself if he’s being honest, his pat on the back now well earned.
Eloise drops her book in a haste as she exclaims, “How could you have kept this from me?” Your heart races, trying desperately to avoid her eye. Except, she’s not talking to you or Benedict. She’s directing her assertion towards Penelope and Colin.
Penelope opens her mouth to protest, but no words come out, while Colin’s jaw opens, then closes, then opens again in shock, as his brows furrow in confusion. This is making no sense to either of them.
Unfortunately for them (or fortunately depending on who you’re asking), Eloise has the wrong couple, and Anthony knows it. “Not them.” He chides, lips smirking in enjoyment.
At that, Colin releases a loud sigh of relief. “I thought I would remember proposing.”
Penelope finds her voice, laughing that bubbly laugh she often does. “I should hope so.” She narrows her eyes, focus resting solely on you. “But that would mean…” she trails off airily.
You avert your gaze from her, not quite ready to confront it, before you shift your focus to the oldest Bridgerton. He’s sitting like he’s perched, waiting for the fog to clear. You lick your lips in concentration, eyeing Anthony down. The smug bastard’s relishing in this game, but you won’t let him win. Beside you, Benedict isn’t so sure. He’s struggling to keep quiet, ready to come clean about everything, yet he’s not positive he’d be able to find the words if he tried.
“Oh…” A look of realization dawns on her face. Penelope’s figured it out, you’re fairly sure everyone has.
There’s a sudden shift in the air. Four pairs of eyes turn to you and your betrothed, three in shock, and one in utter delight. He’s ready for the fun to begin.
Benedict’s gone as white as a sheet; you’ve never seen him so pale. But you hang on with a smile on your face. You’re not about to give Anthony the satisfaction of seeing you lose your composure.
You sigh internally, you guess this is payback for trying so hard to out Anthony’s feelings for Kate before they got engaged. And for making fun of him for being so blindly lovesick. And for many other things, you’re sure. So maybe you deserve this a little bit. But only a little.
Besides, the Bridgerton’s were going to have to find out about your engagement eventually. Why not now?
“What?” You question them, hand reaching for Benedict’s. He calms under your touch, a small smile resting on his face. There’s a smugness of your own forming in your tone, “Are we to pretend that none of you saw this coming?”
Anthony chuckles at your response. You’re both taking this way better than he thought. Of course you’d have to go ruin all the fun by being mature adults about the situation. Damn you.
“You’re engaged?” Eloise splutters rather loudly, alerting everyone else in the room.
And it’s not a second later that Daphne has darted up from her seat, rushing her way towards you. “Please tell me I heard Eloise correctly.” She breathes, nearly squealing. “Because it sounded to me like you and my dearest brother are to be wed.”
“Daphne.” Simon urges, now standing beside her. He’s chuckling at his wife’s excitement. “Give the poor girl some space.”
You and Benedict share a smile, as he prepares himself for the onslaught of questions that are to come. “We wanted to wait a while before we told anyone.” Benedict turns to his oldest sibling pointedly. “But I suppose Anthony had other plans.”
“As I see it,” Anthony interjects. “It is merely reparation for old ploys. Your intended should surely understand.”
Brown eyes meet (e/c) knowingly. You more than understand; it’s all in good nature. As far as your relationship with the viscount is concerned, you’ve always held a playful rivalry with each other.
“And you were most correct (Y/n),” Eloise cuts in, one hand resting on her hip and the other resting at her side, “we all saw this coming.” She pauses. “Maybe not in this fashion, but certainly with the same end result.”
The matter of fact manner of the statement makes you smile, as you watch each of Benedict’s siblings nod in agreement. Even Simon takes part in the teasing. This feels like what a family should be like, this feels like home.
And as Anthony takes a step back from the huddled group of Bridgerton’s, he feels Kate’s hand brush against his, as she pulls him into the corner of the room. A cheeky grin adorns her face. She’s just as happy as Anthony to see you and Benedict together, finally after everything. Even more so, she’s amused with how everyone found out.
Eyeing her husband, mischief laced in her tone, she leans into him whispering, “You simply could not help yourself.” Her voice sends shivers down his spine. “You just had to meddle.”
He hums right back, careening under her touch. “That I did, my love. You know me too well.”
Kate smiles to herself, and sighs. If there’s two things she knows for certain, it’s that yes, she knows Anthony Bridgerton better than even the man himself, and equally, she’s never been more glad that he’s a meddlesome match maker with a penchant for interfering with his siblings love lives.
Because as far as she’s concerned, outside of her relationship with her husband, there’s no two people more suited for each other than you and Benedict. Of that, she is unequivocally sure.
ii
the wedding
You’ve dreamed of this day for what feels like your entire life: your wedding to Benedict Bridgerton. But now that it’s finally here, you can’t help but want it to be over. And not in a bad way. You love weddings, you think they’re positively magical, but by God do you want yours to be over.
Because if you have to wait one more second to kiss Benedict, really kiss him, you think you might die. And yes, that is definitely an exaggeration, but you just cannot wait to be his wife. The ceremony is nice, of course, although it’s really more for your families. Because if you’re being honest, you’d marry Benedict on the busy streets of London in a ratty old dress if it meant you could be his.
You’d truly do anything to marry him.
The ceremony is held at Aubrey Hall, with only your closest family and friends invited. It’s quiet and quaint like you both wanted, neither of you caring too much to make a spectacle out of your wedding.
All in all, the guest list is essentially made up of Benedict’s mother, his siblings and their significant others, your parents, and Lady Danbury of course. It just seemed right, having a more intimate and private ceremony. It’s all you could ever need, especially considering if given the chance, you would’ve just as easily run off and eloped with Benedict, to avoid the hassle of a large wedding.
And when it’s over, and you’ve finally said ‘I do’, you kiss him like you’ve never kissed him before. You kiss him with hope and passion, a glimpse of the future you are to have with him. It leaves you wanting more, wanting all of him. Because no one else could complete you like he does.
Benedict feels more than the same. Because when he’d seen you walk down the carpeted aisle, and into the garden outside of his childhood home, he’d never felt anything like it. It was as if his life with you flashed before his eyes, all those years you spent loving each other in secret, preparing him for this day. And when you leapt up to kiss him, he felt his heart soar.
You’re his wife, and he’s your husband, ‘til death do you part. It’s almost surreal to think about.
But it’s truly at the reception where you both feel most at ease. While your wedding was wonderful, you’re more than excited that it’s over. Because you’re married now. And you can act like it. You no longer have to hide your affections, hold back on your touches. You can dance as many times as you like without society judging you for it, and you can kiss your husband in glee.
It’s an utterly freeing feeling, listening to the music drift around you, as you waltze in Benedict’s arms. Everyone is enjoying the party, either dancing or simply chatting amongst themselves, plenty of food and drink to go around. The sounds of laughter and joy make you smile. This is your family now, and you couldn’t be happier about it.
A soft sigh momentarily catches you off guard. Your husband, you smile to yourself. He’s trying to get your attention, successfully so. You hum in his arms, urging for him to speak up. And when he does, his voice is angelic.
“Look at me darling.” Benedict tilts your chin upward, eyes meeting yours with so much love. “No one else matters.” He murmurs. It’s almost as if he’s trying to convince you of that fact, something he need not do.
“How could they?” Your smile is sweet, your voice airily drifting with the warm breeze. “When I have you as my husband.”
He hums, swaying you gently back and forth. “I do love it when you call me that.”
“Oh you do, do you?” You tease playfully. Jesting has always been one of the foundations to your friendship. That’s not about to change after over two decades. “I would have never guessed.”
Benedict eyes you with want, nearly growling as he pulls you into a searing kiss. “But not as much as I relish in calling you my wife.”
A light gag interrupts your moment.
“A tad possessive are we?” Eloise’s voice snaps in, gravelly and raw. You both break apart with dopey grins, the look of desire still resting on your faces. Her eyes meet Benedict’s as she mocks an expression of disgust. “I hadn’t thought you capable of it.” She finishes.
Benedict lets out something akin to a snort. “And I hadn’t thought you capable of being a meddlesome, pestering young woman.” He pauses, sarcasm running through his words. “Oh, wait…”
Eloise scrunches her face in faux distaste.
“Eloise.” Anthony chides, sauntering next to her, more than ready to continue the child like Bridgerton banter, “Leave the poor couple alone.” He’s teasing her, trying to get on her nerves. And quite frankly, you find it hilarious.
“I’m simply stating my opinion brother.” She tilts her head innocently. It amuses you because Eloise is anything but. And everyone knows it. “As a woman should.” There it is.
Anthony chuckles, brown eyes glimmering with mischief. “We’re well aware of your thoughts on the subject of marriage and public displays of affection sister, but please do allow the newlyweds to enjoy themselves. This day only happens once in a lifetime after all.”
Eloise scoffs. “Never.” She taunts with the raise of her brow. “What would be the fun in that?”
Benedict’s eyes flick between his two siblings, a wide smile growing on his face. He turns to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in closer.
You know that look, you know it well. Benedict is nothing if not a pathetic sap for pretty words, especially when he’s the one uttering said pretty words.
“It is really a shame that I find myself indifferent to what either of you think.” He starts, throwing caution to the wind. “And because I cannot find a more intelligent way to put this, I’ll simply say what is on my mind…”
Eloise and Anthony share a look of pure amusement, they too know what is to come. “Please do.” They say in unison, surprising each of the siblings. This might be the first time in a long while that they’ve agreed on anything. And it just had to be at your expense.
“Simply put,” he smiles, voice going soft. Maybe he’s had a bit too much to drink. “I love my wife. And I want nothing more than to show everyone that I love my wife, and to be insufferably enamoured with each other for the rest of my life. If that is an issue for anyone, I do not believe I could force myself to care.”
“Mm,” Anthony hums in agreement, taking a swig of his own drink as he cheers to Benedict’s half-speech.
Eloise scoffs. “Oh, is that all brother?” She asks.
A deadpan expression crosses Benedict’s face, and you giggle at the sight.
“Eloise, Eloise, Eloise.” Anthony tsks. “That, was simply the tip of the iceberg that is Benedict’s love for (Y/n). It will never be all.”
“Anthony is right.” Benedict asserts.
“As I always am.”
Eloise rolls her eyes. “Oh please. There is nothing easier to be correct about than Benedict being madly in love with his wife.”
Anthony sticks his tongue out at her, mumbling something along the lines of, regardless, I was still right. It’simmaturity at its finest, and you’re enjoying every second of it.
You let out a genuine laugh at the exchange, “Alright children. Calm yourselves.”
“Look at you.” Anthony’s eyes bore into yours, cheekily. “Not even hours after your wedding and you’re already so motherly. It’s adorable really.”
“Very funny.” Is your immediate reply.
“How mature.” Is Eloise’s.
And as the three of you continue to banter back and forth, spitting joking insults and hurling equally venomous retorts, Benedict can’t help but let out a sigh of contentment.
He’ll admit, after that night at Lady Danbury’s where you’d gotten engaged, he had been a little nervous that your relationship turning from platonic to romantic would be an adjustment not only for the two of you, but for his siblings as well. Because as long as you’d known his family, you and Benedict had simply been friends, although as he quickly came to find out, not one Bridgerton thought you wouldn’t end up together.
But seeing you and his siblings laughing together, poking fun and joking around with one another, he knows that his initial concern was sheer stupidity on his part. Because if he’s being honest, the only thing that has changed, is that instead of being simply best friends, you are now best friends who know they are in love with each other.
Best friends who are married. Yes, he smiles, he quite likes that sound of that. (Y/n) and Benedict Bridgerton, husband and wife. He would never and could never want it any other way.
iii
lady whistedown…
“Colin,” Eloise’s raspy voice is laced with sleep. It’s late, she’s tired, and she wants nothing more than to go to bed. “Whatever it is you wish to tell us, could it not have waited until the morning?”
Your gaze flicks to your husband’s, a reassuring calm passing over you. Both of you watch as the two siblings have a near stand off. And while you agree, it is extremely late, and you are quite tired, you can’t help but find yourself intrigued by the situation.
“No.” Colin’s eyes are frantic. “This cannot wait.”
It’s such an interesting turn of events, you ponder with a smile on your face. Eloise, who usually thirsts for knowledge, appearing so disinterested at the prospect of her brother’s clearly important information.
Eloise huffs, equally expectant and annoyed. “Go on then,” she waves. “If you must.”
Colin hesitates, struggling to find his words. “I—I don’t know how,” he stutters. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes dart across the room. And while his distress is only furthering Eloise’s displeasure, it causes something different for you.
A pang in your chest forms. Empathy, you recognize. Something is distressing Colin so much so that he can’t form the words. He looks like his life has been turned upside down, like the world is crumbling at his feet. And it hurts you.
You’ve never seen him like this. Neither has Benedict.
Unclasping your hand from your husband’s, you reach forward for Colin. Maybe another person’s touch will ground him; it’s always worked with Benedict.
He reacts immediately, eyes meeting yours, a sigh falling from his lips. “I’m afraid to say anything.” He says finally. “Because it’s not my secret to tell, but it hurts.” You can see he’s on the verge of tears, hear the quiver in his voice. “It hurts more than anything I have felt in my life.”
Betrayal is the one word that comes to your mind. Colin feels betrayed. And that can only mean one of a few things, one of which sticks out like a sore thumb. Penelope Featherington. It has to be her; no one else has this kind of power over Colin.
And because of that, you know exactly what is troubling him. He knows who she is, what she’s done. “Is this about Lady Whistledown?” You ask softly, already knowing the answer.
As he nods, you watch the recognition flood across his face. Colin now knows you know, something not even Benedict is aware of. His gaze darts to Eloise suddenly and then back to you, as if asking, does she know?
You can’t help but notice the subtext behind his stare that goes beyond her simple knowledge of Penelope’s identity. It’s more than that. Does my sister know her best friend is a prolific liar? Does she feel the same betrayal I do?
Benedict takes note of this silent conversation you’re having with his brother. His brows furrow, and his lips pull into a tight thin line. He’s never felt more confused in his life. Because as he can see by the softened expression on Eloise’s face, even she’s clued in to Colin’s news.
And he, for the life of him, cannot seem to read between the lines. What is he missing?
“Penelope, she—“ Colin breathes, only to be cut off by a cough from Benedict.
“Hold on.” Benedict’s hand shoots up in protest, the dots starting to connect. “Penelope is Lady Whistledown?”
The silence that ensues is all the confirmation he needs. Three pairs of eyes hit the floor. You’re avoiding his gaze. “And you knew?” Benedict’s voice is directed at you, although he’s just as pointed towards Eloise. He can’t blame Colin for any of this.
Colin’s eyes widen as he takes in Benedict’s words. He turns to you and Eloise. “Neither of you told him?” He asks.
In unison, you say, “no.” There’s apprehension in both of your tones, nervous and unsure of how Benedict will react.
“I found out a few nights ago.” Colin eyes you and his sister in curiosity. “How long have you known?”
“A couple of months.” Eloise muses quietly.
“I’ve known for about half a year.”
Half a year? The words blur in Benedict’s mind, that’s an incredibly long amount of time for you to hold this in. It must have been eating you alive.
Benedict takes one look between you and his sister, stormy eyes narrowing, lips pursed in deep thought. He wants to be mad, wants to yell at you both, wants to scream it from the top of his lungs. He wants to feel betrayed, wants to feel as if his heart is wrenching, but he can’t. Oddly, he’s more so impressed. It’s almost sickening the sense of pride that blooms in his chest. How could you have possibly managed to stay so tight lipped about this? And for this long?
Benedict had always known of Eloise’s capabilities to keep things to herself, as she is merely happy to know something everyone else doesn’t, relishing in that, but you? He thought you simply incapable of keeping secrets from him. You like to talk, love to tell him things, and even more, you enjoy hearing his opinion on matters of both monumental and little significance. Your conversations have always been full of give and take, a mix of playful banter and riveting intellectual debates, with a hint of London gossip thrown in there for good measure.
Looking back on it, you’ve always told each other everything, especially something as big as this. And this time, you hadn’t.
He’s having trouble wrapping his brain around it, but he’s not mad.
“I thought I knew everything there was to know about you my love.” Benedict’s voice finally cuts through the thick silence. He’s teasing and relaxed, no anger in his posture.
Relief floods you as a laugh falls from your lips. “I believe you were wrong, darling.”
“I suppose I was.” Benedict smiles, his eyes twinkling in utter adoration. He couldn’t be more in love with you if he tried.
And this confuses Colin profusely. Not that Benedict loves you, that much is easy to understand. But you had kept a secret from your husband for over six months, hidden something so life changing from him for so long, and the minute Benedict finds out, he’s teasing you, joking with you, as if nothing has happened. As if nothing is to change because of it.
“How can you be so alright with this?” Colin questions, turning to his brother in confusion.
“Because,” Benedict muses, “as you so eloquently put it brother, it was not her secret to tell.”
“And you think that makes it acceptable to keep secrets from the person one loves?”
“In certain circumstances, I do.” Benedict says, wisdom coursing through his tone. “Besides Colin, this was never about me or my relationship with my wife. As I see it, you are projecting.” Benedict is egging him on, daring him to bite.
And he does, “projecting?” Colin scoffs in disbelief.
“You love Penelope. That is why you are so hurt by this.” Blue gaze meets blue. Colin melts. He knows he’s right. “But sometimes, you must let past grievances die. And allow your instincts to take over.”
Colin nods, swallowing. He wants to forgive Penelope, and in his heart, he knows he already has. Tilting his head in bemusement, he challenges, “And what of your instincts brother?”
Benedict turns to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “My love for my wife,” he says, “is the greatest instinct I have.”
And in Benedict’s mind, truer words have never been spoken…
iv
you’re what?!
Daphne’s eyes watch you carefully. It’s a normal evening, as far as she’s aware, yet something seems off. Ever since you and Benedict got married, Daphne has insisted upon having you both for dinner at Clyvedon every couple of weeks. And so you’ve done just that, happy to spend time with her, Simon, and little Auggie.
But tonight, you appear far off, lost in thought. You’ve barely spoken, only adding little bits to the conversation when asked, and you’ve been incessantly fiddling with your hands.
The biggest indicator of your strange behaviour, was your refusal for a glass of wine. At first, it had completely gone over Daphne. You’ve never been one for alcohol, so she’s not surprised she missed it, but as she ponders herself, it makes her think.
When dinner is over, she scoops Auggie up in her arms, and with her free hand, she reaches for yours, leaving Simon and Benedict to whatever they had been discussing. It’s not unusual for her to whisk you off to their sitting room for some tea and a tad bit of gossiping, but Daphne’s abruptness leaves you a little concerned.
Shutting the door quietly, she moves to sit down on the couch, Auggie on her lap. She smiles, beckoning you over with loaded enthusiasm.
You sit down next to her, turning your body to face hers. “Is everything alright?”
“Quite.” She grins, beaming. She knows something, and you don’t like it. It leaves you tensing at her tone, hidden with several implications.
You wonder if she’s figured you out. It wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest, and though you’ve tried to hide it, Daphne’s a woman, and a smart woman at that. The clues would be all too obvious to her.
“You’re with child.” She says finally, confirming your suspicions. It’s not a question, it’s a statement, as if she could never be wrong about something like this.
All of a sudden, a wave of nausea passes over you, anxiety building in your stomach. You haven’t seen a doctor yet, but you’re fairly certain it’s true. “I haven’t had my monthly in over sixty days. And I’ve been feeling rather ill.” You say. “It’s either that, or something is terribly wrong.”
When you look back at her, the smile that has grown on her face is enormously giddy. It spreads from cheek to cheek, her eyes beaming with intensity. “Oh!” She claps her hands together in joy. “This is wonderful news.” Daphne gently spins Auggie around in her lap so he’s facing her. “Did you hear that Aug? Your second cousin.”
The word second makes you smile, thinking of Kate who’s far along with her first child, Auggie’s first cousin. For the past number of months, since he’d found out about her pregnancy, Anthony has been quite the worry wart. It’s hilarious really, for everyone but Kate, watching him hover. Because as much as everyone knows Anthony is a control freak, it is equally known how independent Kate is. She hates being told what she can and cannot do, while he, more than enjoys giving out orders. You know he’s doing it out of love, but for the life of him, the poor man cannot seem to take a hint.
You chuckle lightly in thought. It’s comforting to think about how close in age your children will be. You can only hope they’ll be great friends. And if they’re anything like their Bridgerton side of the family, hell hath no fury, you’re in for the ride of a lifetime.
“Where has your mind gone?” Daphne’s voice breaks in, tone inquisitive.
“To Anthony and Kate.” Your eyes meet hers with a soft smile.
“Ah.” She grins. “He’s become quite unbearable I hear.”
You agree, humming lightly in response. “Kate says he never leaves her side unless absolutely necessary. I suppose he’s simply worried for her, but it does seem a tad excessive.”
“A tad?” Daphne laughs. “If Simon had behaved half as crazed as Anthony when I was pregnant with Auggie, I believe I might have gone mad.”
“And I wouldn’t blame you.”
Your giggles fill the room, genuine happiness spreading throughout it. And in your distracted state, neither of you notice the door crack open, Benedict hovering gently on the other side. He means to knock, truly, but the sweet sounds of your laughter leave him dazed.
“Speaking of doting husbands,” Daphne collects herself, her brow raising in curiosity, “does Benedict know?”
And this is his cue to enter, he thinks, his own curiosity overtaking his want to continue eavesdropping.
Pushing the door open and stepping through the threshold, he doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Do I know what?” He asks.
You freeze in your seat, eyes widening, anxiety spiking.
It’s crazy how in a matter of moments, your life can change so drastically. One second you’re a simple married woman who’s undeniably enamoured with her husband, and the next, impending motherhood is smacking you in the face. And it’s not that you’re not excited, because by god, you are, it’s just this irrational fear creeping in that maybe Benedict won’t be happy, that maybe he’s not ready to be a father, that has you reeling. You know it’s silly, stupid really, but it’s almost like this fear is primal, because as far as you’re concerned, it’s extremely difficult to shake.
In all honesty, you’re not quite sure when you decided to find your voice, nor are you sure of what you’ve actually said, because when you turn your gaze, catching Benedict’s, he’s looking at you in shock, like the air has been ripped from his lungs.
“You’re—” Benedict’s grip on reality feels quite thin, because he’s not certain he’s heard what he thinks he’s heard. “You—you’re…” He can’t bring himself to say it, too scared to get his hopes up in case he had been wrong.
You swallow, nerves bundling in your stomach as you wring your hands together. Your eyes dart, looking for anything but Benedict’s ocean like gaze, as you try to focus on your breathing. Slowly, you tell yourself, in and out. You hadn’t noticed when Daphne had left the room, so consumed by your thoughts that you can’t believe you’d missed it.
It doesn’t seem like Benedict’s noticed her absence either, and if he has, it appears that he doesn’t care much. He’s merely focused on you.
“Please tell me I’m not losing my sanity, and that I heard you correctly.” Benedict pleads, his voice cracking with hope. He so desperately wants it to be true. “Are you with child?”
You cannot find the words; none of them seem right. Instead, you nod, too overwhelmed to do anything else. Before you know it, Benedict is rushing forward, scooping you in his arms and wrapping you in his embrace. The first thing you remember hearing is his chortled laughter, and the sound of your heart beating in your ears.
Your eyes brim with tears. He’s happy, you think, and you couldn’t be more elated. Relief floods through you as you allow your body to collapse into him.
“A baby.” He whispers into your ear, his brain moving faster than he can process it.
“Our baby.” You smile.
From outside the door, Daphne and Simon stand leaning against the walls opposite each other, grins resting on their faces. As much as Simon likes to pretend he’s indifferent, his heart says otherwise, a feeling of warmth spreading across his chest. He’s always had a soft spot for children. Daphne knows just that.
Gleaning her husband’s happiness, she reaches for his hand. He pulls her gently to his side, his arm draping across her body, and she wraps herself around him.
She sighs in contentment. “I believe I recall telling (Y/n) that that would be her one day.” She pauses, thumb tracing circles over Simon’s palm. “Raising a Bridgerton baby.” She smiles at the memory. It hadn’t been long ago, merely a few months had passed since.
And she had been right of course, as Daphne Bridgerton so often was. A baby Benedict and (Y/n) Bridgerton; chuckling she thinks, she can only hope the little one takes after you…
+ i
domestic bliss
Whoever told you parenting was easy, that it comes naturally, as if it’s some kind of instinct you have, has never given birth to three boys in only a little under three years. Difficult doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Chaos runs your life, or at least that’s what it appears like to you. You’re sure your family would tell you otherwise, that you always look so calm and put together, but quite frankly, you haven’t felt like that since before your first child was born.
You wouldn’t give it up for the world, nor would Benedict, but you have to admit, it’s more than a little tiring pretty much all of the time.
“Can I hold the baby mama?” Your oldest son Charles’ voice breaks your moment of silence.
“Of course you can darling.” You smile, patting the spot beside you. “Why don’t you climb on the bed here, and I’ll place her in your arms.”
Charlie beams up at you, eyes twinkling in delight. He giggles as you place your daughter Violet down gently, resting her neck under the palm of his small hand so that he’s cradling her nicely. “She’s beautiful mama.” He says. For a seven year old, he’s mature for his age, and certainly your calmest child.
Your lips lift into a soft smile. Quiet moments like these are few and far between. “I like to think so.”
Before you can prepare yourself for it, your serene bubble is burst as you hear two little pairs of feet padding quickly into the bedroom, followed by your husband’s unimpressed stare. “Trouble, the pair of you.” He eyes your four year old twins Alexander and William.
“We wanted to see the baby.” Alex pouts.
“But papa said we had to wait.” Will finishes for him.
You let out a bright laugh, gaze turning to your husband. “I am guessing that waiting is something they could not do.”
Benedict grins sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “They are Bridgerton’s after all.” He quips. “We’re not exactly known for our patience.”
“I suppose not.” You relent teasingly, beckoning the twins forward. You watch as they clumsily climb their way onto the bed, eager to get a look at their sister.
Violet, only days old, has been a surprisingly calm baby, taking after her oldest brother. And a nice change of pace at that.
You remember after the twins were born just how fussy they’d been. You’d practically gone delirious just trying to keep up with them, and you’ve been trying desperately to do so ever since, never quite gaining enough ground.
“Look, Charlie!” William coos from above, leaning over the baby. “She’s smiling at you.”
The interaction warms your heart, watching your boys excited about their little sister. Even though you know Violet is much too young to be smiling and it’s likely just gas, you’d never ruin their moment.
Alexander whines slightly, feeling left out of the bunch. “Let me see Will.”
As he goes to push his brother out of the way, Benedict holds his hand up in protest, releasing a cough to gain his children’s attention. “Wait your turn.” He jests, sending Alexander a coy smile.
Benedict makes his way to the other side of the bed, allowing Charlie to be cozily sandwiched between the two of you. You share a sweet smile, blue eyes meeting (e/c).
Charlie begins to wiggle his way to the centre of the bed, Violet still tucked carefully in his arms. He’s moving delicately, as if she might break in his grasp. You watch lovingly as the twins shuffle their way over, one sitting on each side of their older brother. They take turns leaning in and cooing at the baby, absolutely entranced with her.
This allows your husband to slide in closer to you, wrapping and arm around your shoulder lovingly.
Benedict sighs. “I must admit,” he begins tracing circles on your forearm with his thumb, “I did miss having a baby in our home.”
You chuckle. “Relish in it.” You advise. “This will be our last one.”
“Oh?” Benedict chides. “That is what every woman says before she’s right back having another. Besides,” he smirks. “You cannot resist me.”
“Mm,” you smile cheekily. “I will admit, it is difficult, but I am more than capable of withstanding your charm.”
“Forgive me Mrs. Bridgerton.” He leans over to place a kiss on your lips and you reciprocate immediately. It always amazes you that he can still manage to take your breath away after all these years. “If I have difficulty believing you.”
You part to the sound of a loud groan from in front of you. “Papa.” Charlie eyes his father. Your children don’t enjoy it when your affections for each other are demonstrated in front of them. “You promised.”
Benedict feigns confusion. “Did I?” He grins. “I suppose it must have slipped my mind.”
Retorting his earlier words, you say, “Perhaps it is you who cannot resist me.”
Benedict tilts his head, brow raised and eyes full of warmth. “Perhaps.”
Your banter is broken by the giggles of your children, both of your gazes turning to them. Admiring the beauty of it all, you allow your hand to find Benedict’s. You share a glance, smiling softly knowing exactly what the other is thinking.
Pride. This is what your love has created. This is how your love will live on. With a beautiful family, indeed.
they’re not the only ones iii is coming soon! I should be able to post it either tomorrow or Wednesday! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :)
Thank you darlings for sticking with me as I write the third part; I’m super excited to get it done for you! All of your comments on the first two parts have warmed my heart, ty!!! ❤️❤️❤️
I’m so sorry darlings! I know I keep pushing it back and I feel awful, but part iii probably won’t be out today. I got called into work and I still have a chunk left to write. I’m about 3k in now, but hopefully I can get most of it done tomorrow. For sure by Friday :)
they’re not the only ones iii is coming soon! I should be able to post it either tomorrow or Wednesday! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :)
Thank you darlings for sticking with me as I write the third part; I’m super excited to get it done for you! All of your comments on the first two parts have warmed my heart, ty!!! ❤️❤️❤️
Hi loves! I’m sorry for going radio silent for most of yesterday; I had work and then I just decompressed a little, but I’m back now :)
I’m also really happy to announce that part 3 of they’re not the only ones is in the works! It’s just in the beginning stages, but I have it all planned out and I’m quite excited to get it written for all of you!
As for a timeline, I’m working a lot the rest of this week, so hopefully I’ll have some time to sit down, but I can’t guarantee it. The earliest I think I’d be able to have it done for is Sunday, but it might be more like Monday or Tuesday if I get really swamped…
Anyway, I hope all of you are doing splendidly! And, like always, please do let me know if you’d like to be tagged! Just shoot me a message in my inbox, or reply to this post and I’ll add you ;)
sidenote: Here’s part one and part two if you’d like to check them out….
they’re not the only ones ii | benedict bridgerton
Summary: 4 times you and Benedict are confronted about your feelings for one another and the 1 time you confront each other
Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Warning(s): another 4 + 1 scenario (I kind of wanted to keep it consistent to the first part), more pining, fluff, some angst, sheer stupidity…you know the rest
A/n: hi darlings! I was so floored by the love on the first part to this fic that I decided to write another! Thank you all for your kindness and I hope you enjoy! (I’m also totally open to writing a part 3 should anyone want it)…
“This will be you some day.” Daphne smirks, holding her son August who’s placed perfectly on her lap. She bounces her knee up and down gently, calming him. “Raising a Bridgerton baby.”
You let out a cough of surprise, eyes blinking rapidly. “What?”
“You heard me perfectly.” She hums in amusement. Daphne loves that she can have this effect on you.
Suddenly a spluttering mess, you fumble with your words, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Defeated, you sigh resting on, “excuse me?”
You two would meet for the first time at one of the Queen’s balls
Benedict had not been eager to go to such a social event, where Ladies and Bachelors would be exchanging heated looks through all the time, burning with want to marry and share fortunes in the future
Encouraged by his mother, though, he had gone, and when he saw you the night was suddenly worth it
You stood out from everyone else, beautiful in your clothes and looking around like you wanted nothing more than to leave that place at once
Benedict surprised even himself at how fast he decided to approach you, two drinks in his hand, from which he offered you one and you smiling, accepted it
You talked for a while, he found out you were to be married in that season, having come to age and due to your mother’s insistence for you to find yourself in a good marriage, that would bring wealth and fortune to your family
The way you spoke, respectfully and yet comfortably, like he was one of your oldest friends, made Benedict notice that you were a beautiful person not only because of your appearance, but because of your intriguing spirit as well
During that ball, having stepped away after being requested by his older brother, Benedict watched you being courted by a lot of Lords, almost as much as his sister, Daphne, was being
He noticed your hesitation while you spoke with those men, courtesy that did not have much confidence, the way your eyes did not meet theirs for too long before searching the room and eventually, fell upon himself
You were looking for him, and that was the happiest surprise he could have
Two others balls happened, ones he was looking forward to (which did not escape his mother’s surprise and suspicion)
On both of those balls, the events of the one where you had met repeated themselves, with you both talking with smiles on your faces and then, he seeing you being courted and again, looking for him
So right then and there, he decided he would court you
He would very, very much like to marry you before some other Lord did
Benedict would first tell his mother and Anthony about his intentions, making it very clear that he had deep, strong feelings for you and you apparently, felt the same for him
Seeing no reason to be against such union, they both supported his actions
When you met again afterwards, he told about that he wished to court you, and asked how you would feel about that
And after you smiled in both shock and happiness and said you were amazingly flattered and pleased, Benedict had no doubt he had made the right decision
You two would marry, and he ha no doubt he would be incredibly happy
summary: requested; when the knight in shining armor realizes he’s in love with his clumsy girl
warnings: best friends to lovers, talk of injuries
word count: 2.1k
Beauty can be found in repetition. In the comfort that comes with it, the assurance that life is going exactly as it is supposed to. That all the pieces are falling into place without fuss or feathers. That is what life felt like for Benedict Bridgerton.
There was nothing quite like coming home to a life that revolved around and around like a pretty little carousel after a long day of tedious painting, worrying over the works of his own mind and hand. Predictable life was so beautifully mundane and peaceful at times.
He always arrived back at the Bridgerton home typically just after three in the afternoon. That glorious slice of day when one is just at the peak of energy and yet the world is slowly beginning its descent into slumber. Clouds always roamed the skies overhead while a breeze rushed past and horse hooves struck cobblestone.
And without fail, he always heard the laughter once he stepped into the grand foyer. The noise seemed to ricochet off the marble, bouncing around the house as the pitter patter of feet followed not too far behind. Hyacinth and Gregory whooped and hollered like wild animals on their little stampede, pushing and shoving down the hallways. On their heels, like always, was Y/N racing behind them. Feet bare and skirts clutching in her hands, she leapt down the stairs, yelling for them to stop the raucous behavior yet laughing all the while.
A wide, tilting grin was painted across Benedict’s face at the sight. It always was. This was his welcome home party — these three hooligans that he called family and loved to the moon and back, then twice over again.
“I thought I told you no more running down the stairs,” he lectured teasingly, placing his hands on his hips. “You’ve already had a broken finger, a sprained wrist, and your left knee still isn’t right.”
His younger siblings laughed nonetheless, picking up their pace to reach the end of the stairs and then dart around the corner. Benedict sidestepped them, narrowly avoiding being barreled into.
Y/N huffed a little, darting down another few stairs, just feet from the bottom. “I’ve told you a million times, Benny. I’m not that—”
On the last stair, her feet slipped from beneath her, sending her careening towards the marble floor. And as always, like a comforting clockwork, he stepped forward to catch her. To wrap his arms around her and set her right.
It was just how the two neighbors were — Y/N falling or tripping over her own feet and Benedict there to be her personal knight in shining armor. To carry her to the house when she sprained an ankle, to wipe mud from her face with the sleeve of his shirt, to help her crawl over a fence. He was there for all of it and he wouldn’t consider trading it for the world.
“What were you saying?” he asked with a marvelous grin, one hand still lingering near her waist as he waited for her to find her footing once more. “That you’re not that clumsy anymore?”
Y/N smiled despite her better judgment, a dark teasing glint twinkling in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you weren’t so…”
“What?” he laughed. “Handsome, talented, intelligent, clever, hilarious… the list could go on and on.”
“Infuriating!” she exclaimed, lightly slapping his strong shoulder as she grinned from ear to ear. “Cocky, arrogant, a know-it-all. Need I go on?”
Benedict scoffed and shook his head in amusement. Maybe he was all of the above, but it didn’t matter. He knew she wouldn’t love him less for it. Gently, he reached up and moved a fallen lock of hair back into place. “We both have our flaws,” he lamented. “Yet I would argue we are fairly near perfect.”
“That’s what I consider being a Bridgerton is.” Y/N smiled in the way that had him seeing stars, the contagiousness of it bringing a toothy grin to his own face. “Being insanely stubborn headed yet shockingly likable.”
Benedict laid a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “Well then I would say you are certainly a part of the family, Y/N/N.”
Stifling humidity and heat always came with the summer months and yet Benedict still lingered beneath the sun, leaning on the croquet mallet in hand. His jacket had been long abandoned and cravat loosened and yet he still felt as though he were sweltering. Not only from the heat, but from some other foreign feeling that stirred about within his mind.
For the entire afternoon, his eyes had been glued to Y/N’s back – watching how her skirts twirled in the wind, how her joyous laughter seemed to wick away the unbearable heat. She trotted about the yard with Benedict’s favorite mallet in her hand, the one he always handed off to her with a smile on his face. And throughout the day, he’d followed her like a stray dog begging for scraps. Always a step behind, lingering in the shadows unheard and unseen.
Y/N carefully lined up her next shot as the crowd quieted in anticipation. Even over a silly game, Benedict’s breath halted in his chest as he observed, crossing his fingers for good luck to pass along to her. She swung the mallet with trained ease and like clockwork, the ball rolled along and through the hoop.
Immediately she turned around, throwing both arms triumphantly in the air. “Did you see that?”
Benedict couldn’t help but smile deliriously like a fool. “Absolutely!” he cried with enthusiasm, applauding as loudly as he could manage.
Stepping by his side, Y/N allowed her mallet to drop to the ground as she greedily drank a cup of iced water. “I believe I’ve adequately shown the ladies that I do not plan to relinquish my title of The Queen of Croquet anytime soon.”
“You certainly did,” he enthused with a smirky smile he couldn’t manage to contain. “Even while making a complete mess of yourself.” Like a second nature, he took one of her hands in his, examining the small scratches laced around her arm and the layer of mud plaguing the bottom of her dress.
“I go where the game goes,” she said proudly, “even when it’s through thickets and mud holes.”
Taking off his cravat, he wetted it in a glass of water and then went to work, wiping away the dirt and grime from her scratched up arms. It was instinctual, his little routine he felt compelled to complete. “Then at least try to not injure yourself so much next time.”
“They’re only scratches, Benny. It isn’t like I fell and busted my head open.”
Glancing up at her, one corner of his lips tilted as he saw the fiery spirit in her eyes. The type that leaped and bounded at the idea of danger. “Then try for me?” he whispered.
At that whispered plea, the look in her eyes changed, morphing into something so deliriously soft and tender that Benedict felt his heart skip a single beat. He felt as though his soul was reaching out to hers, begging it to take his hand.
“For you,” she whispered with a tilting smile, “my knight in shining armor.”
In that moment, he felt his heart come to an easy still, pausing in his chest as though time itself had come to a halt. The heat was still there, flooding through his cheeks until he swore his whole face had likely turned to a peachy shade of pink. His lips gaped as his mind compelled him to say more, to find words to match the state of confusion he felt.
But before he could come to terms with himself, she had pulled away and picked up the mallet, holding it out for him. “I believe your game is about to begin soon, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“Why of course, Miss L/N. How could I ever forgive myself for potentially being late to such a thing?” He did a little mock bow before stepping away, finding himself reluctant to leave her side. As he walked across the lawn to where his brothers waited, he instinctively glanced over his shoulder to find her in the mulling crowd once more.
“Took you long enough,” Anthony snapped. He fidgeted anxiously, bouncing one foot as he constantly readjusted the grip on his mallet. His shoulders tightened once Benedict rolled his eyes dramatically. “I have things to do – Edwina to woo, Kate to win over.”
Colin and Benedict’s gazes met for a single moment once Anthony stormed off, leading the charge in the way he always did. Silly smiles played across both their lips as they trailed behind, swinging their mallets absentmindedly.
Once more, Benedict glanced over his shoulder only to find Y/N staring back at him, a smirk painted across her face as she gave two enthusiastic thumbs up. That wonderful heat rose in his face again as he raised a hand, sending a little grateful wave her way.
Colin cleared his throat and knowingly gazed at his brother. “You love her.”
“What?”
“Do you not realize it?” he scoffed. “You are so head over heels for her that it isn’t even funny.”
Benedict drew in a deep breath as his gaze bounced between Colin and Y/N, the latter of which who was now turned away and snared in conversation with a different gentleman. He would have been a liar if he claimed the sight didn’t make his heart ache in a gnawing way, carving him up from the inside out. “I don’t—” he mumbled, falling over his words. “She… I…”
Colin’s lips lifted even more as he knocked his shoulder affectionately against Benedict’s. “I’m not a fool, brother. I know you and your silly little mind better than you do, and I know what that look in your eyes is.”
Benedict spent the entirety of the match scanning crowds, hungry for another glimpse of Y/N, instead of actually playing. Anthony bested him rather easily with Colin not too far behind the eldest, yet he hardly noticed his scathing loss at all. The only event his brain managed to focus on was Y/N’s interactions — how the new gentleman seemed to cling to her side, looking over her scratches with the same tenderness he himself had for her.
Once more, he felt a foreign feeling coiling inside like a dragon, breathing out fire with every taunting poke and prod. How long had it lived within him? Hiding away in some remote corner of his heart? Benedict didn’t have the faintest of ideas and yet there was some instinctual knowledge that the monstrous jealousy lived for one person only.
Benedict didn’t hear Colin’s calls as he crossed the lawn, dropping his mallet somewhere in the grass. He was greeted by Y/N darting across the lawn to greet him, the newest suitor left behind to gawk.
“You played wonderfully!” she called, carefully running across the uneven ground.
He couldn’t help but smile so widely that his cheeks began to ache as he shook his head in disbelief. “I lost — horribly so!”
She laughed wildly as she stumbled on her footing. “Does it matter? You’ll always be a winner to me!”
Just in time, he stepped forward to steady her. Both of his hands fell upon her shoulders, keeping her upright as the girl gazed up at him, the corners of her eyes crinkled from laughter. For what felt like the hundredth time, his heart paused and then leapt in his chest in a desperate bid to escape its cage of ribs.
“I care for you,” he shamelessly blurted. His hands dropped to hold her wrists tenderly, as though afraid she’d disappear the moment he looked away.
Y/N stared up at him with wide eyes filling with concern as her eyebrows threaded together. “I’ve never doubted that for a moment,” she responded. “You’ve always been there — through thick and thin; good, bad, and worse than bad.”
He tilted his head to one side as he silently implored himself to spill the words dwelling in his brain. The ones that had been there as long as time itself. “Not in that way,” he whispered. “I care for you in ways that I shouldn’t and more than I should as strictly a friend.”
“Benedict—”
“I’m consumed by you — your presence, the words you speak, and how you trip over your own feet. All of it, all of you.” His words quickly morphed into ones of pleading as he saw her eyes brighten with realization. “And I can’t— I haven’t the words to even describe the beginnings of it.”
She laid a gentle hand on his cheek, running her fingers over a trail of stubble. “You don’t have to describe it.” Her voice dropped into a whisper as she leant into his touch. “I feel the same — I always have.”
summary:requested; when anthony doesn’t realize what is right in front of him
warnings:none (other than that I maybe didn’t pace this in the best way)
word count: 2.6k
“Shall we see what our darling Lady Whistledown has to say on this fine afternoon?” Benedict asked, one corner of his lips curling into a lopsided grin. He settled down next to Y/N, kicking up his heels and flipping open his pamphlet.
Anthony groaned softly, rolling his head from side to side as the joints cracked. “I was trying to enjoy the sun, Benedict. Not to drown in scandal.”
“I don’t mind hearing a little bit of drama,” Y/N said with a smile. The spoon in her hand clicked against the porcelain of her tea cup as she stirred the steaming liquid, a dash of sugar dissolving away with each stir.
“Of course you do,” Anthony sighed, gazing at her from the corner of his eye.
Eloise reached across the table, greedy fingers fumbling for a pastry dessert. She spoke rapidly while she ate, “Let me guess – she’s named a diamond and I’m not it.”
Shaking his head, Benedict laughed. “You’ll be relieved that she hasn’t.” He winked the moment their mother turned away, gazing across the rolling greens of the park. “But she has made some predictions.”
Those words certainly caught Lady Bridgerton’s attention. She turned her head quickly and peered over Benedict’s shoulder, drinking in the written words as if it were a fine wine. “Of what?”
“Couples,” he said with a hum.
“Well then who?”
Now everyone was leant forward in their seats, sipping on tea and nibbling on bread while silently imploring Benedict to read aloud for all. Even Anthony had stopped his anxious fidgeting. He only leaned back further into his chair, balancing dangerously on the back legs.
With a heavy touch, Benedict jabbed at the paper and drug his finger down along the margins. “The Otton girl and that one fellow that came in a while ago – the one who wears those horrid blue jackets. And Cressida Cowper and a man by the name of Matthews?”
Eloise gave a huff of triumph, holding her head higher. “Well that’s hardly any news. Getting a little slow, is she?”
Benedict’s lips suddenly curled into a mischievous smile. His gaze flashed up from the pamphlet, little jewels dancing about in his eyes. “And last but certainly not least,” he said in a mocking tone, “Lord Anthony Bridgerton and Miss Y/N L/N.”
A sharp chill worked through Y/N’s body, prickling her skin and burning her heart. Frantically, she glanced over at Anthony, trying to read the hidden messages carved into his stone expressions. Her heart raced in her throat, silently pleading with him to meet her inquisitive gaze. The eldest Bridgerton only tilted his head to one side, one corner of his lips pulling up in disbelief. “Ridiculous,” he scoffed.
Y/N’s parched lips gaped as the words couldn’t reach her tongue. It sat in her throat like a tangled web of horrid thoughts, fear devouring hope. “Why would it be ridiculous?” her voice cracked, showing the little fissures in her heart.
Anthony only grinned wider – that smile she had fallen in love with so long ago, when they were both shy children pressed up against the gilded walls watching couples twirling past. He sat upright in his chair, hands automatically moving down to smooth his attire. “We’re acquaintances – hardly friends,” he dumbly stated. “I don’t think we’ve even shared an interesting conversation.”
Benedict gasped dramatically, harshly kicking at Anthony’s legs underneath the table. “That is my favorite friend you are talking about!”
“It would be likelier for me to marry a Featherington,” Anthony said, practically laughing about the entire situation.
“And now you are talking about my friend’s family,” Eloise snapped. In one fluid movement, she stole the pamphlet from Benedict’s hand and folded it until it was only a fraction of its size. “It’s not like any of it is true anyway — she’s only making logical guesses which any one of us could make.”
Anthony dragged a hand over his weary face, rubbing at the fine lines of premature aging. “Logical?”
“If you think about it, Y/N does spend a fair bit of time in our household,” she said. “The season’s begun as well. Colin is away so he is not an option, and so it’s either you — Anthony or Benedict. And only one of you danced with her at the last ball.”
Y/N nearly choked on her sweetened tea. “As acquaintances regularly do.”
“It was friendly. Nothing more,” Anthony politely excused, his gaze meeting Y/N’s for one fleeting moment. “What sort of gentleman would I be if I neglected to socialize with a family friend?”
Benedict leaned forward in his seat and conspiratorially raised one eyebrow. “Or was it? Are you two hiding some deep dark feelings I am not aware of?”
In an instant, a fiery burning spread through Y/N’s face like an inferno. Her heart skipped a beat as she pondered the possibility of Benedict noticing her hidden feelings over the years — ones of affection for his older brother.
His gaze bounced between her and Anthony like a wild animal darting to and fro. If she knew any better, she would have said a blush was spreading across his cheeks. But this was Anthony she was looking at — he certainly wouldn’t be caught blushing like a fool gone mad.
“No!” Anthony suddenly said.
“That seems rather defen—”
“Not at all,” Y/N reassured, smoothing down the wrinkles of her dress with anxious hands. A tremble worked its way through her body, making every nerve jump and muscle quiver. “We can’t even agree on a simple thing. I say it’s raining, he says it’s sunny. I don’t quite understand what Lady Whistledown sees.” The lies left her tongue drowning in poison.
“Exactly,” Anthony quickly interrupted. Lifting his cup of tea, he nodded cordially to Y/N. “Now may we enjoy a quiet afternoon?”
Y/N halfway expected the prediction to ruin her season. Every person would have their eye turned to her – both in good and bad. Criticizing her moves, reading into every lingering gaze in Anthony’s direction. The ones that were never reciprocated.
And it did just that — the pamphlet only increased the intrigue swirling around her personality. Every fine gentleman in the Ton wanted a peek at the girl who supposedly snagged Lord Bridgerton’s eye. Of course, it wasn’t true at all, but they needn’t know that. If anything, Anthony only tried to avoid her more: avoiding her gaze, walking away when she approached. The only time they traded words was at Benedict’s command, his hands encircling their wrists to hold both parties in place.
She hated how easily he could skirt around her life, as effortless as a bird floating in the breeze. Y/N wanted him to burn in the same manner she did, as if her dress would leap into surging flames the next time he crossed her field of vision.
And on top of it all, she felt guilty for even thinking that way when there were a dozen men waiting on her doorstep with bouquets, eagerly waiting to sign their name on her dance card. What was so horrifically wrong with her that she couldn’t appreciate what sat in her palms?
They were all perfectly acceptable — of good breeding and drowning in wealth. All had an excellent education, fluent in multiple languages. They were dazzling on paper and yet in person? She couldn’t help but find the flaws in them all. One stepped on her feet endlessly while waltzing, an apology never once dropping from his lips. A second talked over her, not even allowing her to utter a single sentence. A third could only converse of the weather and a fourth tended to be too handsy for her liking.
Sitting at a small table along the edge of the room, sipping on a cup of tea, she found her eyes drifting back to Anthony’s looming figure across the room, despite the adequate company by her side. Even with his back turned to her, she could tell he was perplexed. It was found in the way his shoulders were held; hunched forward instead of starkly pinned back. In how he would stare blankly off at the crowd, turning a cheek to his jovial siblings. She thought of standing up, walking across the room with her head held high and inquiring what was wrong with him. It was off putting to see Anthony in such a state; lost and confused when he was so often quiet and stoney.
When his head turned to her direction, his heavy gaze settling over her, Y/N practically jumped in her seat, fumbling with her drink as she averted her stare.
“You wouldn’t believe what abomination I saw yesterday,” Charles said, throwing a stone into her world of thoughts.
Turning her gaze to the fellow by her side, she nearly felt guilty for being lost in the clouds when by his side. He was kind enough to endure sitting through her silent moments, gentle when dancing, a flair for mocking dreadful events like these, and handsome as well with perfectly groomed golden hair. And yet she couldn’t even remember his surname or what city he hailed from – only that he was proudly French with a slight disdain for the English. And that he wasn’t anything like Anthony.
He talked too much, far too loudly. He used his hands when making a speech, the pale things flapping about like startled birds a foot away from death. And when she countered him, he only dipped into her views – not even challenging her for a second.
It was deliriously affectionate and bitter all at once.
Taking another sip of her tea, she hummed, “What?”
Charles’s thin lips curled with humor as he tilted forward in his seat. “I saw a young gentleman – aristocracy, no doubt – setting a spaniel dog out on a hare.” Chuckling to himself, he shook his head causing meticulously placed locks to fall against his temple.
Y/N raised an eyebrow as she didn’t seem to follow his train of thought. “I’m afraid I’m not understanding the issue.”
“The spaniel was of the tall sort,” he said, demonstrating with his hands as he always did. “About yea high. Entirely inefficient for hunting small game.”
Tilting her head to one side, she tried her hardest to appreciate the quirkiness of his mannerisms. To find the small details that were irresistible to love. And yet her hands felt empty, every possibility falling through her fingers like grains of sand. “What sort would you recommend, Charles?” she asked plainly, searching the room for Anthony without a second thought.
“A basset bleu from Gascony, of course! Short and squatty yet beautifully tactile. They work like nothing else, you have to believe me.”
Y/N’s lips quirked for a moment. “Well if they’re short, how do you expect them to see above tall meadow grass? I would assume a stately dog who can get their task done with minimal effort would be preferable.”
A toothy grin spread across his face. “I believe I must digress. There are truly some impressive hunting spaniels – perhaps I should inform myself more on the breed.”
Y/N laid her hands in her lap, wringing her fingers together until her knuckles paled several shades. “It is okay for you to disagree with me, you know? Both of us can have educated, yet differing, opinions. That’s the joy of conversation.”
“Well, yes — of course,” he said, fumbling over his words clumsily, “but would it be the—”
“Would you excuse me?”
Y/N felt faint the moment she raised her gaze, only to see Anthony standing by their side with his hands clasped behind his back. The signature tight smile was engraved onto his face, eyes practically alight with a sense of mischief.
“I must steal Miss L/N away,” he continued with trained ease. “The matter is urgent, I’m afraid.” Charles nearly leapt to his feet out of fright and expectation. Nodding and blundering about his words as Anthony only quietly offered his arm and a smile that stole the breath from her lungs.
Upon taking it, he promptly whirled her away from the chaos – Charles’s ramblings, prying eyes, whispered predictions, Lady Whistledown and her spies wherever they lingered. Walking and walking in silence until they ended on a balcony outside. Brisk spring air fluttered about outside, weaving through newly budding leaves until blue moonlight.
“What’s so urgent?” Y/N teasingly asked as her gaze languidly roamed the side of his face. “Has a grass blade split? A tree branch dying?”
For a fleeting moment, he gazed down at her as one corner of his mouth lifted. There was an innate tenderness in that look, the soft caress of a downy feather sweeping across her face. It fired a heat rising up her neck, basking her face in a fiery wonder as her heart skipped a beat too many.
“I needed to speak to you,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “That is what was so urgent.”
Y/N’s lips curled into a wide, blazing grin. Laughter bubbled in her chest as she asked incredulously, “You pulled me away from a perfectly wonderful conversation because you want to speak to me? Since when have you ever been desperate to have words with me?”
Anthony’s eyes gleamed as though he were recalling their younger days when she and Benedict trailed him like two lost puppies, endlessly talking until he had to bribe them to quiet.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” he breathed out with disbelief, cheeks painted a rosy red. “I never thought I’d miss your chattering – the mindlessness of it that made my ears ring. I always thought it was horrid, that I couldn’t get away from you soon enough. And now… after watching you, seeing you smile at someone else’s words, dance in someone else’s arms… I realize that it was always delightful. That I was never bored, never felt dull.”
The black of Y/N’s eyes had blown wide as she felt the breath stall in her chest, her heart coming to an aching rest as her brain swam in muddied waters. “I don’t understand.”
Turning to face her, Anthony laid a hand over his chest. His brows had furrowed together, a sign of his sincerity – one of those small things that she swore she would admire until the end of time. “I didn’t realize how much I… enjoyed your company. Your words – the compliments, the arguments, all of it.”
Throat feeling dry, Y/N scrambled for the words to say that would match the tenderness she saw in Anthony’s eyes – the thing she had long dreamed of. “I’ve always wanted you to see me,” she whispered. “It will ruin me if your words are not true.”
“I see you,” he promised. “Not only just you, but myself.” One hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing over her cheekbone. “I’ve felt hollow not having you there to best me these past few weeks. To correct my grammar or debate my views. And I think I see that in you as well – the emptiness even with that man you’ve been sat beside night after night.”
A smile sprouted across her face, little laugh lines appearing. “He doesn’t even debate me!” she marveled. “They all compliment my dress and the hair, my education. How wonderfully articulate I am, how well read. But nothing of substance or challenge.” She paused for a moment, gazing into endless pools contained within his eyes. “Is that what Lady Whistledown saw?”
His eyebrows threaded together in confusion. “What?”
“The way we argue - how we can go on and on and on and yet… still get along. Not only tolerate, but silently enjoy each other’s company.”
Anthony shook his head in disbelief, little wrinkles appearing by his eyes as his cheeks bunched. “Or maybe it’s how I’ve always looked for you in a crowd.” He glanced down at her once more, pouring himself into her eyes as he whispered those words. “Even when I didn’t realize I did so.”
Summary: After marrying one of the sons of a man your father owes money to, you find yourself finally falling for him nearly a year into your marriage. That is until there is news of a toll to your marriage that might not be salvageable.
Word Count: 2,424 Words
Author’s Note: arranged marriage, notes of women as property, spousal cheating (which unfortunately was not uncommon and rapidly forgiven for men of status)
It’d been nearly a year since you’d legally became Mrs. Bridgerton. The name felt stolen to you, merely because you didn’t know your husband. It had been a wedding of necessity. Your father owed the late Lord Bridgerton a large sum of money and Anthony - as the acting Lord - determined a marriage between you and the next eligible bachelor of the family (Benedict) would be suitable to forgive the large sum that was owed to them. Not that you had a dowry. Nor any of your own wealth to offer.
The day of your wedding, Benedict had tried to act excited, likely for your sake. He knew that this was not what you nor what most women, would expect of their lives, but your father’s missteps in his finances, you were left with no choice.
You certainly could do worse for a husband. He was kind, charming and generally good conversation, when you did see one another. You found it easier to stay in your own quarters, apart from each other and out of the way. The only time you joined together was at mealtimes, but even then there would be nights where Benedict would request meals to his studio.
Visits to his studio on your behalf were infrequent. You did not wish to disturb the peace he’d made there, that would be unfair. It was the equivalent to him pestering you in the gardens or the drawing room when you sat with needlework or a sewing project. Most times the result of your work would end up in the hands of others as gifts. In fact you’d just finished an outfit for the Duchess’ son. That had been a tolling task. To part with the piece you’d grown to love and daydream upon.
You’d made the mistake of picturing yourself with a tot of your own in the get up, with another on the way. A mother. A role in this house outside of being a resident of it. There was very little hope for such a future. Benedict never looked at you in that manner, and you were certain that would not be changing anytime soon.
Though there were days were you were happily proven wrong. One afternoon your husband had invited you to the theater, getting the two of you out of the house. This would become a weekly occurrence, seeing the show and discussing the plot and your own views on it. Many others did not sit and take in the acting performance, but that was not you and Benedict. It was the one thing that seemed to join you - aside from a legally binding contract.
That led to happier dinners, invitations to walk the gardens, friendly competitions of pall mall, and evenings were Benedict would sit with you and read your stories to you.
It felt as though you were finally getting close. You sought out his company more and more frequently, finding yourself lingering in his presence probably longer than he’d like. Though, your husband was a gentleman and never said anything of the matter. You’d begun to see the way his face would scrunch up when he was entertained, as well as relishing in his laughter. Recently, you would actively seek out a session with him and find he was not even home. These occurrences were odd to you, but you thought nothing of it. After all, what were you to say? That he was to stay home more often, despite neither of you having any intentions of engaging in the act that you both participated in? No, that would be futile and rather indignant towards the matter.
It wasn’t until a ball was held at Hastings House, where you and your husband were expected to appear that you made a shocking realization. Benedict had been in the middle of a conversation with his youngest brother, engaging in play that Violet was sure to dismiss the minute she witnessed it. As he chased his brother around you felt your heart flutter. Your view of the man changed in a few blinks. A man you’d never recognized, never cared for more than one cares for a friend, suddenly meant everything to you.
You’d not confessed this to a single proprietor of the Bridgerton name. It was tucked away in some part of you, hidden and out of sight. You wouldn’t dare admit that when you know your husband did not share a single part of the emotion.
Tea the next day felt like a walk of shame to you. Not that anyone knew this secret you were harboring, but you were walking on metaphorical hot coals around the crowds of ladies. As though you would shatter like porcelain if you were to speak.
It did not take you long to notice the looks, the cautious and whispered conversations in the groups around you. Violet, Eloise and Francesca sat with your usual group, the eldest woman on the chaises looks at Violet. A shocked expression as she swats her fan at the woman’s hand as the Viscountess moves for a finger sandwich. “How is it that you believe there is time for such leisuring when your son is introducing slander to your family name?” The matriarch gasps in shock, shaking her head.
“Veronica, what everare you speaking about?” The room settles at Violet’s abrupt words.
“Have you not read the latest Whistledown? Might someone please lend their copy to Lady Bridgerton?” Soon, dozens of hands shoot out towards you and your family, each of you taking your respective copy.
My Dearest Reader,
It appears as though the noble Bridgerton family is involved in yet another scandal. Now, as many of you are aware, the name has been heavily printed on my pages as of late, and it seems as though it has yet to cease.
Upon the previous eve that I write this, Benedict Bridgerton was caught at the Granville house in the most precarious of situations. One that no married man would hope to be caught in. At least not with a woman that is not his wife.
The pamphlet falls from your hands and to the floor below you. There is no time between finishing the sentence and your swift departure from Mrs. Veronica’s sitting room.
In short time, you’ve made it from the home, your lungs frozen and your feet carrying you faster than your mind might let you guide them. You’re unsure of where you are going. No where. Anywhere. Anywhere that was far, far from here.
You find yourself at the Bridgerton home, in search of your carriageman. Instead, you spot your very husband with his brother out in the yard, fencing. Colin greets you with a grin. “Mrs. Bridgerton! Are you coming to join our company?” It was not the question that forces the tears from your eyes. Witnessing them, Colin pulls his foil from the air, the elder of the two men mimicking the same actions - dropping his own instead in a clatter of metal as it hits the grass.
“My wife, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He approaches and you take a step back, your hand up in a flat manner.
“Take your leave. Or myself. I do not care in which manner it is, but you are notto be in my presence.” Your voice shakes with each syllable that passes through quivering lips. Benedict falters. He stands, looking at you with such deep sympathy that you wonder if he recognizes the error that’s been unveiled. As you turn toward the house again, your given name leaves his lips, chasing after you as you spot your coachman. Focusing on him as Benedict speaks, you ask him to bring the carriage around. You hear your husband’s voice drone on and turn away from him as he rattles on.
“I did not realize that my actions had consequences. Please, lend me your ear.” He catches you in your stride, his gloved hand in the crook of your elbow, leading you to freeze to listen to him. “My friend, I thought that we were in mutual agreement that if we were not finding what we required in one another that we might seek other arrangements-” You sharply turn to face him.
“My friend?! Is that what you wish to call me? How dare you insinuate such a thing!” Sheer venom seeps from you as you take a step towards him. “I am not your acquaintance. Nor am I your friend. Not your neighbor, not your partner, not your staff or employee.I am your wife, Benedict!!Contentment aside you have a dutyto uphold when you wed someone! Love match or not you are meant to protect, that person. Not be the reason they are in sheer agony!”The sound of your voice rattles the chandelier above you in the foyer entry, walls seeming to quake in fear at your anger.
“I was just trying to-”
“Quite frankly, I do not care what it was that you were attempting to do.” Huffing as you finally catch your breath. As a pause comes to the active deliberations, Violet comes into the house, her breath heavy, clearly having been chasing after you, Eloise and Francesca just behind her.
“Benedict. Do not disappoint me and say that the accusations that were suggested by Lady Whistledown are founded in truth.”Her tone is filled with warnings, yet Benedict avoids her eyes, looking to his brother behind him before turning back to you.
“We are able to move past this, I am sure of it. What Lady Whistledown writes-” You’re cutting off your husband once more - if you can even stand to call him that now.
“What she writes is always deemed as law. You certainly know this.” You hiss, with a fury unknown to most women. At least not one that is presented publicly. Finally, Benedict is firing his own shots towards you.
“Like there are any consequences! Shall I inform my mother of the realities that we face behind closed doors? How we have not shared a bed and still have yet to do so? How we barely spend time in one another’s presence? Do not pretend that we are exactly enamoured with one another, dear.”The emotion that is painted on his face shows all that your family needs to see. Poor Violet looks as though she might faint, Colin moves to her side to prepare for the worst case, that she actually does. “I am tiredof pretending. Saving face and dealing with the actions that my brother played for me.” He slumps in his composure, your face giving a hopeless laugh.
“I am aware that you are tired, Benedict. I myself am exhausted from the act we have been in.” Your eyes fall to the floor, tears free falling onto marble. “I would move to bet that she gives you the most joyous feeling. That she makes you feel free from the burdens that the ring on your finger ties you to. She probably makes your stomach do somersaults.” You watch as the emotion in Ben’s face moves from annoyance and exhaustion to confusion and concern.
“My wife…” He speaks cautiously, paired with a step towards you. Your head shoots up in a defensive manner.
“Mayhaps I were a fool to believe that there was a way for you to feel that for me. So do as you please, Benedict. See her as oftenas you like. And think of me fondly, when your hands are on her. I hope you’re happy. Because I certainly am not. Not when the man I thought I came to love was hiding away from me, just when I thought things were looking up.” With your peace spoken, you turn on your heels, looking to the doorway, over the group huddled there. Violet is trying to offer you words of comfort, Eloise gripping your arm. Instead you’re pulling from her grasp, hot tears on your face as you see the carriage finally arrive.
Your name echoes through the foyer and out the front door. Over the marble steps leading up to the house. You’re mere steps from the door, watching as the coachman opens the cabin before arms are wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you to a firm chest, one that moves with rapid breaths in pairing with his jog he’d lept into after you. It is not until he’s pulled you to him, in a tight embrace that you finally begin to fall apart. Sobs begin to leave you as you feel his head dip to your shoulder, adjusting his grip on you as words are mumbled. You cannot register them from over the tangled web of emotions and jagged breaths of air being hauled into your lungs. Eventually, there are some words that sneak through the cries. “Please. Let it be known it was not your fault. I swear to the Heavens that my intentions were not of malice toward you. Had I known-” You’re breaking from his grip slightly, arms still encasing you in a small circle as he tries to keep you close. Your eyes lock on his with contempt.
“Had you known?? How were you to? You spent countless hours in your study, the stables, somewhere to get away from me!” A fist is lightly coming to meet the edge of his shoulder.
“Because I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. There’d been no lead up to our nuptials. Your father owed my own, rest his soul, and in an attempt to relieve him of the debts he still had remaining, Anthony thought it best to bring you to us. He thought I would be able to care for you, to provide a life for you. Anything you could want.” A comforting hand comes to the side of your head, looking to you with great care. “That is all I was looking to do. To make you happy. If that were away from me, on your own terms, I wanted you to have that. “
“If it is my happiness that you are after, why have you never bothered to ask me what it is I want?”
“What do you want, Mrs. Bridgerton?” He looks at you so carefully, voice no heavier than the breeze that surrounds the two of you.
“What if it was you that I wanted?” You ask so quietly, tears still falling. He reaches up to wipe at them, spare handkerchief in hand.
Summary: (Requested) the reader is super clumsy and Benedict is always there to take care of her (he would hold her when she’s about to trip and maybe wipe off something that’s on hand he always thought he sees her only as his little sister. but when he sees her with another man, who is just as considerate with her as he is, he’s afraid that he would lose her forever.
Word Count: 2,333 Words
Author’s Note: I have not written out requests in agessss so I do hope this is what you were hoping for! Enjoy!
As the neighbor of the esteemed Bridgerton family in their London home, it was natural for the Savoy and Bridgerton homes to feel one in the same. With shared walkways and shared walls, the families grew close knit over the course of time. The Savoy family consisted of five children, a small number when compared to the Bridgerton eight. The eldest was Henry, then, yourself, next was Primrose, followed by the twins Everett and Josephine.
Everyone got along swimmingly, your mothers being some of the closest of friends and many of the children from the other household had come to feel as though they were an extension of your own family.
In one of many evenings spent together as families, you found yourself lingering with the sibling most closely in age to yourself, Benedict. The two of you had just under a year in age difference, which meant one of you had followed the other in milestones and footsteps rather closely. That did change as you aged however, what hadn’t was your friendship to one another.
The group was settling down for dinner, the rampant amount of laughter in the drawing room from the twins and Hyacinth and Gregory, the chastising of mothers shortly following them. The two of you had snuck away into one of the other rooms of the house, one that was not used nearly as frequently. The library had been sort of a hide out for the two of you, where you would play make believe and demand that Benedict act as your Vicount, you his Viscountess. Shelves collected memories alongside books, and the two of you lingered in that as you pull a book from it’s home. “It feels as though it were just yesterday that you and I would hide under the desks as though they were caves, using the lounges as ships.” You speak with amusement, fingers paging through the papers bound in the book in your hand.
“It truly does, doesn’t it? It’s unfortunate that our time in leading strings was over so quickly.” Benedict sits on one of the aforementioned chaise lounges, lighting a cigarette. You catch him from the corner of your eye and laugh softly.
“Are you attemptingto scent my home with tobacco perfumes?” You scold, quickly shutting the book in an effort to show haste. Instead, your finger catches on the edge of one of the papers, slicing your finger slightly. A light cry and you’re shaking your hand and dropping the book to the floor. As you inspect your own hand, Benedict is readily at your side.
“Well, now what have you done?” He teases with a grin as you look up at him, cigarette extinguished in a nearby ashtray - thanks to your father’s own filthy habit - as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, easily pressing the fabric to the crimson line on your finger, his hand taking your own delicately.
“Might I have not been otherwise engaged perhaps I would’ve been more cautious.” You retort with a knowing smirk. This was not a new incident. Benedict’s handkerchiefs made plenty of appearances in an effort to undo the woes of your clumsiness. Bruised palms of hands from rug burns, spilled tea on dresses, once had been mud upon your gloves. He was always looking out for you, and you showed your appreciation by personally washing and pressing each handkerchief you’d stolen from him before it’s ample return. You look to him with a smile of appreciation, one of his own reflecting yours before your names echo in the hall in calling for dinner.
Sitting next to one another, your families engage in conversation upon the ongoing social season - one that had been stressing both you and Daphne to the very edge. The two of you had spoken at great length of her claim as the diamond of the season and the Duke’s sudden return. You’d also discussed the many suitable men that had called for you in the previous days - a conversation that Benedict never seemed to be concerned with.
“Why is it that your boys have yet to find interest in the social season, Violet?” Your father speaks up, leaving you to glance at your friend, seeing his face shy from your eyesight.
“Well, Anthony has been rather occupied overseeing the many callers that Daphne has received. Benedict has offered his assistance as well.” You can hear Prim snicker with Eloise as both of them were well acquainted in the time the second woman’s brothers spent outside of public events. Despite that you mentally dismiss them as Violet speaks. “Dear, have you had any delightful conversations with suitors?” You clear your throat and look to the woman who was like a second mother to you.
“Not any that particularly stand out. I am sure the doors of Bridgerton House have been rather busy with Daphne’s line of bachelors.” You nudge the young woman’s elbow, smiling at your friend as you hear Anthony’s struggle to clear his throat.
Conversation carries on into the dessert course, where Benedict seems to find amusement in something on your features. Setting down your napkin you look at him with matched laughter. “Whatever is it now?” With a snicker he’s picking up your abandoned napkin, reaching up and carefully wiping your upper lip.
“You’ve chocolate all along your face as though you were growing a mustache.” You simply laugh at the image that forms in your head, the two of you giggling as you give a brief thank you. It is then that your mother speaks again.
“Benedict, darling, will you be accompanying Daphne to Madame Willard’s ball tomorrow evening?” The gentleman looks passed you with a lingering smile before clearing his throat.
“Yes, Mrs. Savoy, I do believe your eldest daughter and my sister are rather excited to be in attendance.” Soon after his words, Daphne juts into discussion about her gown for the evening, a bright smile on Violet’s face at her daughter’s excitement.
It is not long after that the families begin to separate for the evening. You stand on the porch step, speaking with Colin about his plans for travel that he has yet to falter on come the end of the social season in June. Benedict distracts your attention from his brother with a grin. “I believe that we shall meet again tomorrow evening at the Willard home?” He suggests and you smile with a nod.
“That we shall, Mr Bridgerton.” Violet calls out to you and you move to wave to her before you lose your balance on the edge of the stoop, Benedict quickly maneuvering to catch you, leaving you both in a fit of laughs as he stands you upright.
“If you can manage to survive the day without another incident.” He taunts once more before taking quick steps down the steps.
“Goodnight Benedict.” You say it with a songlike tune as you wave him and his family to their home nextdoor, all of you retiring for the evening.
It is the next evening that you do see him again. For the first interaction between you it is brief, pleasantries are exchanged before suitors ask to fill your dance card. Swiftly distracted with conversation, Benedict himself is tasked with watching over his sister and her own line of men.
Later in the evening he finds his eye drifting. Instead of a watchful gaze upon Daphne who seems to be struggling with some of her prospects, he finds you in his line of sight. You’re posed with a man, dancing on the floor rather cautiously, apologizing profusely for stepping on his foot. Despite it, the two of you seem to be swelling with laughter. As the dance slows, he sees just out of sight, the man reaching and moving a stray bit of hair out of your face, his eyes set upon you in a strange manner.
Within moments, Benedict is able to identify the feeling that flows through him as strong as the Thames current does. It is heavy fear. Fear that you are starting off a different path. One that would leave the two of you ostracized from one another until fate stepped in once again. The moment there was a proposal on your doorstep would be the moment he would lose you forever. Unless he does something drastic.
He can hear his name be called from his mother, faintly over the noise of the crowd surrounding him. In very few steps, he’s approaching the two of you just as the song changes, leaving you to step away from the young man, only for Benedict to swoop into his place. Shock fills your features as his hand grips to yours, another firmly on your waist. “And might I ask what you are doing? My dance card is full and you are not honoring it.” You speak firmly, looking at him with slight contempt.
“I needed a moment to speak with you.” He rationalizes, only before you try to pull away.
“We’ll have words later on Ben, this is really important-“
“So is this.” It’s filled with urgency, and you look to him with sudden concern. It is unlike him to have emotion wavier in his speech, which is why it stands out like a sore spot to you.
“As it were. What is going on? Is everyone alright?” Your eyes catch his in the light, watching as he doesn’t dare turn his face away from yours. You can see his Adam’s apple bob before he speaks once again, leaning a little closer as to ensure that you do not misunderstand him.
“I do not think that it had dawned upon me until this evening that your search for a husband would take you from me.” Your eyebrows furrow, leaving you to attempt to speak,
“Benedict I don’t understand-“ He cuts you off once more.
“In all of the memories I have of my father I do not recall a single one where he did not devote his soul to my mother.” He pulls away, looking you in the eye again, the both of you still moving with the timing of the music. “There were moments of hardship and I can recollect times where he had great anger. But it was never towards her. While I was still rather young, he did not fail to remind me of how deeply he cared for her and everyone of his children.” It is now you see tears beginning to form in his eyes, a concerned hand reaching to his cheek.
“My dearest friend, what in the heavens above has brought this on?” With reassurance, he continues on.
“When he passed I saw the toll it had on my mother. She described to us that there was nothing more she prayed for than for his peaceful rest, and for him to guide their children to a love such as the one they had for each other. As my eldest friend, I know that this may bring great concern to you and strain to the connection that we have but I can no longer turn a blind eye towards my feelings.” His grip in your hand tightens as he slows with the music, the two of you pausing completely.
“My mother prayed that he would lead me to the most treasured of friendships, the most blessed of women and the strongest of loves. My dear. He led me to you. I have been a fool to not have seen it til now but I must act with haste if I want to ensure my opportunity does not depart before my eyes. Ms Savoy I am… utterly and foolishly in love with you. Long have I been your obedient servant before either of us knew it to be true. You might turn at my confession but I shan’t disappoint my father by not attempting to walk through the door he has opened for me.” Within the subsequent pause, the two of you share in warm, tearful gaze, unmoving despite those around you who have continued to flutter around the room. Still in the position of a dancing pair on a wooden ballroom floor, seemingly frozen in time.
“Benedict. I do not know much but..” you take pause to gather your thoughts, seeing his jaw tighten with concern. You shush him quickly, shaking your head. “No, dear I assure you this shall not be painful to hear. Quite the opposite in fact.” Your hand grips his bicep, tears slowly escaping from your eyes, rolling down cheeks, his own thumb wiping at them. “I do not know much, but I do know that your father was a bright man. And I know that I sought out a man such as him to be my husband one day. A man who cherished his wife deeply, a dutiful husband and father. I have been under the guise that a man such as one like him were hard to come by.” With a small smile, you are able to whisper to Benedict with care. “Instead, I can see that he, himself, had raised such a man. A kind, thoughtful and loving gentleman. Named Benedict Bridgerton.” With relief escaping him he drops your hand, quickly pulling you to his embrace, both of you tightly tying yourselves to one another, unwilling to move. Unwilling to release the other, for an eternity and more.
