âPlease, donât...â Violet pleaded gently, all-knowing. âIf you go, you will break his heart.â
A deep sob briefly escaped Sophie, truly shocked that Benedictâs mother seemed so aware of the nature of her sonâs relationship with the maid.
She rapidly gathered herself to some semblance of professionalism. With watery eyes, she met Lady Bridgertonâs solemn cast straight.
âIf I stay⌠he will break mine.â
Violetâs eyes snapped shut, heartbroken herself. For both her son, and the sweet girl that stood in front of her.
-o-o-o-
My brain has always daydreamed and re-imagined the scene when Sophie resigns her post to Violet and how hard she tried to change her mind, for Benedictâs sake.
I did indeed and after a solid grieving period, I can now see the beauty in waiting. (No ill will on Polin whatsoever - all I can hope is that they do them the justice that every couple deserves!)
I look at it like this:
I truly deep down feel that Benedict would be the (non-existent) equivalent of a male spinster if he was let to be. Everything he has done both artistically and romantically teeters on the fine line between trying to follow his own path... but coping with the dominant fear he's a complete let down. To his family and, in turn, to himself.
But then he meets her. And his world is flipped upside down and previously what he thought was something that could only ever be discovered in paintings and poems hits him like a boot to the face and now, the detached life he was resigned to is no longer a possibility.
Flowers aren't meant to be enjoyed if not presented to her.
Food isn't deemed delicious unless the compliment falls from her lips.
Dreams are wasted if she does not appear.
What good are arms if not there for her to fall so very deeply into.
Kisses will never, ever taste as sweet as hers.
And rather a life led in a cold bed if she isn't the one to warm it.
Because, ultimately, what goodness is there in life if it isn't spent in her company.
And as we all know... he can live with her hating him, but he can't live without her.
I think the longer we have to wait - the more it simply adds to the struggle. The odds are forever against them. They have been from the start.
If I have to wait another year for them to lock eyes, so be it.
i love all your benophie pieces and thoughts/benophie season wants, please post more!!!! đĽş
Oh sweet anon, thank you so very much for your ask!! I truly can't put into words how much everyone's kind comments mean to me when they leave a message, comment on a post, or even like/reblog something of mine!! Definitely helps put fuel into my posting engine đĽ°
I have forever adored the chemistry of this scene đŠ
-o-o-o-
Is it too much to ask that Sophie is working away at Number 5, perhaps polishing in the living room, doing her very best to ignore Benedict's watchful eye as he sits alongside Colin; listening to him go on about how strange he finds it that Penelope no longer visits to see Eloise.
However it is distinctly obvious that the elder brother isn't paying attention. Not one bit, in fact.
The only thing that currently has his attention, is the way the maid in the far corners tongue pokes out ever so slightly when she's dealing with a particularly troublesome spot of dirt.
More to the point, the way she inspects everything she has done with such scrutiny - almost as if she feared she would be punished should so much as a spec be left behind.
But mostly, he notices with great warmth the small winning smile she would give to herself when she felt happy with her work before moving onto the next piece of furniture; with the same attention to detail, he might add.
She is hiding so much behind those little actions...
Granted, he was the one to bring her here and yet he yearns to know more about what brought them to this moment.
"We better be off, I told Anthony we'd meet him for some fencing at noon." With a quick pat on the knee from Colin to help bring him back to reality, Benedict reluctantly stands and makes to follow his brother out of the room.
But in a move that only God himself could explain... as soon as he meets the threshold, he stops, lets his younger brother continue on down the hallway, before turning to lean against the doorframe -
- staring.
Boldly.
Right at his sister's Lady's Maid.
All too aware of the attention, Sophie tries to block it out but when she realises he has no intention of stopping... well, this proves to be fruitless altogether.
Despite the wobbling of her knees and the flutter in her chest, she turns, stands tall, and sternly demands,
'What are you looking at Mr Bridgerton?'
As if the answer was as clear as the blue sky above them, Benedict never falters in his reply.
'I'm looking at you, Miss Beckett.'
With that, the shameless statement throws Sophie's entire resolve off script. Despite wishing to remain unbothered, she suddenly doesn't know where to look.
Never before has anyone ever looked at her so... brazenly.
Part of her wanted to call it unnerving but with each passing second it is hopeless to deny how much she rather enjoys Benedict's unflinching attention.
For. He. Was. Looking. At. Her.
Sophie Beckett. Bastard. Maid. Nobody.
And yet, he was looking at her.
As though she was the most exquisite flower in a bouquet fit for Her Majesty herself.
And so, against her better judgement... she looks back. She allows herself to blush under his unrelenting gaze and she makes sure that her wordless response conveys that, to her, he is equally as beautiful in her eyes.
Without even realising, Sophie lips form into a shy little smile as they bask in each other's presence - just this once, she tells herself.
With an echoing "Brother!" from Colin down the hall, Benedict flashes Sophie one of his eye-creasing, face consuming, breathtaking smiles before taking his leave.
Then, and only then, does Sophie allow herself to breathe again. For a weak moment, she even deliberates fanning herself with her dusting cloth before coming to her senses...
Oh well! I know ot's easier said than done but you shouldn't be afraid, we love everything you post because you are an amazing writer, your fics are so beautiful and adorable that they always bring a smile to my face, we are here for a good time!! and of course I'm not gonna press you into it so please post whenever you want, we'll be there to read it and leave you love đĽ°đĽ° I used to have nerves too and if you don't post fics I hope you join us in the Benophie conversations or do your own
The way this made me tear up - from the bottom of my heart, thank you! â¤
I have always wanted to be more involved in the Benophie convo but often find myself creeping on the outskirts like:
Of my own accord, I will say!
Please know, I appreciate your kind words to no end and I hope with time, I can gather the confidence to join in because there are some damn fine writers, commenters and meme makers in the Benophie fandom that I look up to and who continue to inspire me!
I love this fandom mostly because of how genuinely passionate we all feel about those two foo- ... well, that one fool and that one angel!
I truly look forward to the day we get but a mere glimpse at show!Benophie and this gif will NEVER have been more poignant:
I don't know if I'm crazy but...Did you post something about Benophie?
You aren't crazy anon, I did.
And then I deleted it...
Because I panicked.
I know it might sound silly because I have posted many a time about our faves - but every time I do, it does bring me a great deal of nerves and anxiety. If we're being totally honest, it was the main reason I stopped posting last year.
Just to clarify - not that anyone ever did anything wrong on me!
On the contrary, I truly wish I didn't feel this way because every time I see a note for anything I've felt confident enough to post previously, whatever form it may be in, I'm forever like 'For me??? Are you sure?? THANK YOU!!'
I've even hoarded asks in the past, just because sometimes the contents overwhelm me - in the best way possible! People being so kind that all I want to do is answer them in a way that I hope conveys my gratitude and then if I feel like it doesn't, I feel like I let both them and myself down.
I adore the Benophie community and the love and support they have shown me/continue to show me - I can't put it into words how much it means to me!
So I know I need to snap out of it, but if it was that easy, I would've already.
(So, for however brief my Benophie About Time AU drabble was up, thank you for noticing kind anon!)
I know it says a shy little blog but you should give us your thoughts or rambles about Our boi Benedict, I love to read the perspective of other people who loves him â¤ď¸ I would love to read yours
I've held onto this ask because I have many thoughts and feelings that I wish I could articulate better when it comes to Benedict. Especially a Benedict in which he is aware of Sophie's existence, aka, a man on the edge.
One thing I will say/I hope for that I have been obsessing about for a while, (which I have some morsel of faith for - purely because of the age of some of the tracks used for S2) is this for post-coitus/pre Lady in Silver discovery. That limbo that they feel after first making love, especially Benedict's POV - I find it perfect:
POV with this playing in the background:
Sophie hurriedly cleaning any and everything at Number 5 - a welcome distraction. To the point where Violet comments one day that 'you need not work so hard, Dear.' and a lowkey heartbroken Sophie replies so tenderly and earnestly that 'It is all I know, My Lady' and continues to occupy herself in any way possible. Violet knew Sophie to be a hard worker, but not to this torturous extent.
Benedict trying to paint and having a complete creative block, drinking himself into oblivion in the corner at Will's club - alone, skipping family events/no longer visiting, ignoring his brothers invitations for fencing etc.
Worried, especially given how frequently he had been checking in recently, Violet stops by his lodging's to make sure he is well. Immediately she senses her son's heartbreak like an odour he carries with him.
'What troubles you so, Benedict?'
'Nothing at all, Mother.'
But Mama knows. She knows. In fact, her son's new behaviour, this heartbroken raincloud that seems to hover over him, reminds her greatly of her daughter's lady's maid right about now. The very maid he brought to work at her home. The very one he cannot seem to take his eyes off of. The one he stands for when she enters a room despite her not being a "lady". The one he lights up at whenever she appears.
How... coincidental, Violet thinks to herself.
And suddenly, what was once cloudy is now clear.
-o-o-o-
(My sincere thanks for your kind words in this ask ⤠means the world!)
Others have kind of touched on this but seeing as I went into a short ramble on one of @bridgertonbabe's posts & I promised @hallownight89 to try to write down my thoughts... Let's take a look on how Benedict views himself & his art in season 2!
P.S. I'm way too lazy to go through the episodes & get the exact scenes I'm talking about. You'll have to do with gifs made by other people. Enjoy!
In episode 1 we have the scene at the ball where Edwina has just been named the diamond. Benedict says to Anthony "you look at her the way I look at a finished painting." It's clear that Ben is making fun of & taking the piss out of his brother. We know that Ant isn't interested in Edwina, he just wants to charm the diamond of the season. We could just take this as brotherly banter but take a second & look at what Ben is actually saying. I read this comment as him trying to hide his insecurity & shyness. That defence mechanism one does when insecure - "if I make fun of myself, it'll hurt less when others do it."
Episode 2, there it's quite clear. Ben looks rather shaken when Will pretty much calls him a real artist. A bit like it came out of nowhere, Ben is embarrassed & talks himself down. He's not an artist, he just dabbles in art.
In episode 3, we make our first aquiantance with a vulnerable Ben. He tries to be the usual jovial Ben but he's too nervous. In the conversations with Colin it almost sounds like Ben views himself as being stupid. "Why did I apply? How stupid of me, how could I be so silly to think they would accept me? Benedict, you absolute fool!"
As others have stated, Ben is a zero or hundred person - if the tears at being accepted was due to pure relief or the fact that he was high as a kite, that's up to you to decide.
Once he gets to the academy, heâs almost like a kid at Christmas. Everything is so exciting! Heâs finally amongst people he look up to, people he wants to be like one day! Whilst Ben can be rather arrogant, I donât think he views himself as being one of them yet.
I don't remember the exact dialogue but someone asks Ben if he's new & you see that quick moment of panic on his face before Ben answers "is it that obvious?" He's nervous, insecure & doesn't truly feel like he belongs there. He hopes that he is good enough or will become good enough.
In episode 7, when Ant comes barging in at the academy we see a Ben who's comfortable. He has started to feel like he fits in, he's working on his art & he's making progress. But as soon as he notices that Ant's there, he quickly "straightens up". He knows what his brother & best friend is gonna say & sure enough...
Throughout the season we've seen Ant refer to it as doodles or that Ben should "go back to [his] pretty pictures", he straight up laughs in Ben's face when they're talking about poetry. I'm not saying that Ant does this to be cruel or is dismissing Ben on purpose, what I'm saying is that due to Ant's tunnel vision he doesn't notice how it lands with Ben. What also doesn't help the situation is that Ben, just like Ant, is very skilled at putting on a mask, building up that wall & playing his role.
It's an essay for another time but I think that after Edmund's death, Anthony went into duty mode whilst Benedict went into jokester mode. When their mother was still grieving, Anthony did the job of making sure that the family stayed afloat whilst Benedict made sure to put a smile on everyones face. Through the season we see the chill Ben who takes the comments in stride up until when Ant is lashing out on everyone. I could be wrong but I think that's the only time we've seen Ben take offence or even react to those "pretty pictures" comments.
I think that's why Ben feels more hurt & betrayed than he's letting on in episode 8. Ben thought that he had finally made something for himself, carved a place out for himself in society outside of the family. It was Benedict who had achieved something, not one of the Bridgerton brothers. But it was all just pretend. Those comments weren't just brotherly banter, they held some truths to it - that Ben was a joke. None of what had happened at the academy was real, he was fraud & people had just used him for his family name. The people there weren't actually his friends & were supporting him, they were probably all laughing behind his back.
It was all make believe & it doesn't matter how much Ant takes it back & now encourage him. From Ben's perspective he should have just listened to those thoughts from the beginning. He was stupid to think he was actually good at it! He's not an artist, his paintings will never be called masterpieces. Ben is a joke & everyone knows it, they just didn't want to hurt his feelings.
With that said, I'm waiting for a certain Lady in Silver to arrive because as Luke Thompson said: "He's so open, which is a lovely quality & a lovely thing to play, but he's happy to be pushed or dragged or drawn in lots of different directions. A lot of the challenge for him will be about finding his center before he can even start to think creatively."
I'm on love with your new one shot!!! it's so adorable and also a little heartbreaking, you capture their voices perfectly, I'll be here to read everything you post
Thank you so so much anon, what lovely and kind words! I am so grateful you took the time to read it and leave a message like that - means the absolute world to me!
The Object of One's Affection (Benedict Bridgerton and Sophie Beckett)
-o-o-o-
âWhat about here?â Sophie encouraged, placing the ornate bouquet down onto the bedroomâs windowsill; delicately fluffing at it. âThey look rather pleasing under the natural light, do they not?â
âThey would be most pleasingâ, Eloise bemoaned, looking up disinterestedly from her book, âif they were out of my sight entirely.â
The only experience Sophie had with this type of courting thus far were her stepsisters and she knew full well that Rosamund would have lapped up any manâs attention as if she had travelled a hundred miles on foot without a lick of water. As the Bridgertonâs newly appointed ladyâs maid, she was admittedly rather bemused by the teenagerâs deep-seated defiance towards any and all potential suitors that came her way.
âWell then, perhaps it might âpleaseâ you to know thatâŚâ Sophie lifted the attached card and announced that â⌠a âMr Williamsâ spent a pretty penny to gift you these flowers.â
âWell, âMr Williamsâ may take his flowers and place them in such a location where the sun does not shin-â
âAh!â Sophie turned and held her outstretched hand chest height. âYes. I quite understand, Miss Eloise.â
Satisfied, the young lady smirked as she returned to her reading, crossing her ankles on the footstool in front.
Shaking her head and twisting back to the buffet of colour, Sophie could not help but continue to arrange the fresh buds in a most pleasing manner.
âNot that there was any doubt in my mind; but I think you rather special to receive such a magnificent bouquet, Miss Eloise.â She admired, entirely captivated by the hypnotic pinks that stood in front of her.
âThere is nothing special about being fawned at like prized cattle.â Eloise grumbled, lowering her book again. âDo men truly believe that such a simple token will make a lady fall at their feet?â
âWell, I cannot imag-â
â- That we are so easily swooned by minuscule yet objectively overstated acts of affection?â
Despite Eloiseâs cutting tone, Sophie felt her lips curl up; wholly enamoured by how headstrong the young Bridgerton was. She knew the young Miss could go on all day about how much she despised the whole thing and who was she to stop her?
-o-o-o-
Confound it.
She had only turned her back for a mere moment to prepare Miss Eloiseâs bath before bed and yet, somehow, the young woman had still managed to disappear without a trace. Whilst one must have great patience as a ladyâs maid, this was now the third night this weekâŚ
Tracing the halls, Sophie prayed she would not run into Mrs Wilson in her hunt; the head housekeeper had made it quite clear that she was keeping a close eye on Sophie given her rapid (and somewhat questionable) employment at Number 5 and thus always seemed to be waiting in the wings for any misstep she might make.
After searching high and low for what felt like an age, Sophie drew a breath of relief when she spotted Eloise sitting tranquilly upon the gardenâs swings; casually rocking back and forth as she spoke to a fellow night dweller â a suspicious cloud of smoke floating around them.
Cautiously, Sophie snuck closer, unwilling to spook neither her mistress, her companion, nor the other household staff towards the trioâs current whereabouts.
Some may consider her next actions as eavesdropping but as soon as Sophie caught sight of the back profile of Benedict Bridgerton on the opposing swing, she ducked for cover and felt immobile as her ears directed their intrigue towards the spirited conversation taking place just ahead.
Eloise was venting, that much was clear.
â- and I am supposed to stand there and pretend to be flattered by their lecherous advances!â
âRequesting a dance is hardly lecherous, El-â
â- Well I certainly do not solicit their attention and yet it is foisted upon me as though it were some sort of honour!â
âOh, show some mercy to these poor men, Eloise.â Benedict chuckled with a low hanging head shake. âI beg you.â
With his shirt collar undone, his waistcoat un-buttoned idly and his hair all wild and roguish, Sophie felt as though she could stare at him all night if given the opportunity. He was so very breath taking.
But now was not the time for oneâs breath to be taken. Now⌠it was bedtime for one precocious Miss.
A deliberate cough alerted the confidantes to the fact that they were no longer alone, and both stood up so hastily their intruder half wished she was someone more intimidating; interested to see how they would react to being truly caught out.
âOh, it is only you Miss Beckett.â Eloise quickly erupted into a grin, chucking herself back into the swing, although now on the side facing Sophie. âI was just informing Benedict of last nightâs mind-numbing events.â
Turning her attention to the man in question, Sophie noted that he looked a lot more sheepish for having been caught indulging in a cigarette. Unlike his sister, the offending object was hurriedly tossed to the ground as he attempted to wipe his hands clean of the evidence against his breeches.
As Benedict continued to stand in a most unsettled manner, the maid half-wondered if he was so troubled because he thought she would assume he was being a bad influence on his sister?
And, perhaps, if this had been a mere week ago, she might have. However, after getting to know the girl next to him, who was now inhaling another sizeable drag and blowing the smoke out expertly, she knew that it was far more likely that the younger sibling was the guilty party here.
Returning to the conversation at hand, Eloise pointed at Sophie with the fingers that still held her depleting cigarette. âTake Miss Beckett for example! She happens to perceive flowers as an entirely desirable implication of affection.â
The maid could feel the colour drain from her cheeks as she retreated from Benedictâs newly intrigued gaze. When she did not immediately respond, Eloise pressed her with a quick âDo you not?â; oblivious to the growing tension between her ladyâs maid and elder brother.
âI-I suppose you could say I enjoy looking at them...â
âYes, but you enjoy them because they are a novelty! I doubt you would feel the same if you were not so unlikely to receive them-â
âEloise!â Benedict scolded before he could even register how protective his tone might appear.
As soon as the last syllable left her mouth, Eloise knew she had misspoken. She had not meant to wound Sophie by any means. On the contrary, she was trying to convey that she felt Sophie would share her views on how superficial the action was if she were also a lady of the same stature.
âNo- I⌠I did not meanâŚâ Eloise began before stopping herself, not knowing how to recover.
Even though she was a maid, Eloise, much like her mother and sisters, still had great affection for her and through a slip of the tongue, she had practically rendered Miss Beckett entirely undesirable purely because of her status.
And thus, she felt utterly retched.
Clearing her throat, and expertly avoiding Benedictâs sorrowful eyes entirely, Sophie sensibly changed the subject. âPerhaps it is time we get you into your bath and ready for bed, hmm Miss Eloise? If we are to be caught out here, I doubt that either of you would face the same consequences that would befall me.â
No longer wishing to continue the conversation, she turned and prayed Eloise would follow.
Stubbing her cigarette bud into the grass, Eloise nodded guilty before doing as she was told; not willing to feel Benedictâs scolding gaze any further.
-o-o-o-
As Sophie gently brushed through her tangled wet hair that night, Eloise had apologized countlessly through the mirrorâs reflection, and each time the maid waved her off forgivingly.
Later, when tucking her in, she assured the young Bridgerton to sleep with a content mind that she had not taken offence to her verbal misstep. For Eloise was right, she wasnât ever likely to receive a bouquet similar to a lady like her.
In fact, there was nothing âlikelyâ about it; she simply never would.
As she readied her own self for bed and pulled her nightgown over her head, Sophie concluded that it wasnât even about the flowers themselves per say. It was about the gesture. The act of someone gifting them to you to say â âyou are on my mind.â.
Blowing her bedside candle out, Sophie shut her eyes and dared to dream for a moment.
Of course, it would be scandalous if Benedict ever sent her flowers, and she would certainly never ask it of him. For many, many reasons!
One of them being that it would raise far too many questions. But also, she would never want him to take such a risk nor would she wish to encourage his feelings down a path they ultimately could not follow.
Turning to the other side and gazing out of the window and up at the moon, a sigh fell out of her from deep within. The only man she would ever wish to receive said gesture from and it was never going to happenâŚ
The realization had her tossing mournfully for most of the night.
-o-o-o-
Running on such little sleep from the previous night, Sophie had never been quite so happy to see her chambers at the end of the hallway.
After completing her nightly duties of getting little Hyacinth ready for bed and then moving on to Eloise (who had graciously decided to stay put and not go missing this evening), she then set about readying the young ladyâs ensemble for the ball the following night.
Ensuring any crease was taken care of, all the jewellery options were present and accounted for and that the shoes were polished to perfection, she rounded the day off by making a start on washing and scrubbing the laundry.
Truthfully, she did not wish to admit that her particularly long list of chores were merely her way of distracting herself from other silly thoughts.
By the time Sophie was satisfied that every task she had set herself was completed, she could not wait to flop down onto the bed and rest until dawn. It was still somewhat of a novelty to her; as she was now able to acknowledge that under Aramintaâs reign, she was running on empty most of the time.
Shutting the door behind her, she immediately set about unpinning her hair â her eyes practically rolling into the back of their sockets with relief with every undoing of a curl.
Just as she was about to put her pins into their little trinket box for the night, Sophie noticed the two pieces of paper sitting neatly on the small cabinet beside her bed.
Before her there was, what appeared to be, a note resting atop a curled-up piece of paper; all sealed up by a red ribbon.
Picking up the note, she took in the neat handwriting that read:
Her curiosity now peaked, she left the note down and gently tugged at the ribbon holding the parchment underneath together.
As it slowly unravelled and its contents came to light, she could feel her eyes beginning to water almost instantly as her breath left her.
The markings, though they lacked the same colourful vibrancy as real ones, were without a doubt the most beautiful bouquet Sophie had ever seen. Intricate sunflowers and newly bloomed roses cascaded around a beautiful vase as it displayed them proudly. Easily reminiscent of the types of bouquets that screamed luxury and expense when they showed up to woo the Bridgerton girls.
The drawing was done with such fine detail, they looked almost⌠real.
Closing her eyes and clutching the paper to her chest, she inhaled deeply. Curiously, it was then she noticed something wafting in the air that caught her attention. Lifting the paper to her nose, she discovered that there was some sort of scent attached to the illustration; a sweet gesture to help make the markings to truly feel alive. An essential oil, perhaps?
Her chest felt heavy, her stomach slightly woozy.
For they were to be hers - long after the natural wilt of nature would claim every other young lady of the tons bunchâs that adorned their bedside this very night.
Lowering to perch on the side of the bed, Sophie found herself silently cursing the dreamy gesture as she shook her head and fought her tears.
Why must he make this so difficult?
The subtlety of his âBâ initial was a quick reminder of the forbidden nature of their predicament but for one brief moment, she chose to ignore this and simply melt into the warmth of his act of affection.
Unlike the previous night, after readying herself for bed, she dropped off without issue â soothed by her loveâs enchanting words and charcoal blossoms.
-o-o-o-
All day disappointment was evident on Sophieâs demeanour at the lack of a certain second sonâs presence.
It had taken everything in her to not seek Benedict out last night after her discovery, but she acknowledged that if she had done, she would likely have done something sheâd regret and thought best to put a nightâs sleep between her and the charming gesture.
-o-o-o-
âThank you, Mr Bridger-â
Her fellow hallway dweller raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes to allude to his displeasure with her. Sophie relented with a smile, the ball in her stomach becoming more tickling by the second. âThank you, Benedict.â
âBetter.â He never thought he could be quite so overjoyed at the sound of his own name until it rolled off of her tongue so exquisitely.
âThe flowers, they were so lovely. And your note was...â Sophieâs head lowered self-consciously, her words evading her as her fingertips picked at one another's nailbeds.
âI meant every word.â
âI know.â And she did know as she looked back up at him earnestly. âAnd I shall treasure them until the ink is worn clean off.â
Sophie was grateful when Benedict did not then descend into another speech about taking her away from everything, about showering her with real flowers - if only she would give in to her desires.
Instead, he held his tongue; for he knew it would ruin their special, and rare, private moment.
She loved him for that.
And against her better judgment, perhaps he did deserve more than a simple thanks - just this onceâŚ
Sophie craned her neck around to ensure their seclusion before popping up onto the balls of her feet to capture Benedictâs face for a brief, yet wonderfully tender kiss. One that left his crooked smile beaming long after her lips had left his.
âNow, if youâll excuse me Mr Bridgerton, I must attend to your sisterâs hair for tonightâs ball.â
âWell then I shanât keep you, Miss Beckett.â
And from then on, as much as she admired the arrangements that Eloise and Francesca received daily, and as much as she enjoyed arranging them accordingly, nothing could compare to the artwork she kept folded up under her pillow. Where the sides were beginning to weather from nightly attention and the scent was slowly starting to fade.
Still so utterly beautiful. So utterly cherished.
-o-o-o-
A/N: After almost a year, I revisited and began to dig through my old drafts and came across this one and decided to post. May I say, I will never be more proud than when I discovered I had Eloise calling herself cattle and the f***ing show had a similar exchange - with Benedict of all people mooing at her!!
Anyhoo, I wanted to give a big, massive thank you to everyone who has shown love to my writing - it means the absolute world to me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you! I usually post married Benophie so this one is a departure which is why I think I was so hesitant to post it way back when but I felt like taking a chance, so I hope that it's okay that it isn't the usual domestic Benophie that we know and love!
