“ Will you tell the truth so I don’t have to lie ”
Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader Chapter 8
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Tags: flirtation, kissing, it’s really building up now y’all. (Promise)
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🝮🝮🝮🝮 Chapter 8: Tell the Truth. 🝮🝮🝮🝮
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It felt peculiar to be back in the Bridgerton house so soon. You wondered how your presence might make the family feel. Sure, Eloise might be delighted and well there was certainly something between you and Benedict. You had met them all yesterday, the ones still living there anyway. You were also told stories of the siblings who were not there, so much so you felt you already knew them completely. Luckily for you, it was so early in the morning none of them were truly awake. You made a peaceful entrance into the home, and Violet, as you came to know her by, showed you to your quarters. She did not stick around for long, leaving quickly to offer you some privacy.
The room was a beautiful soft blue with white intricate detailing all throughout. Lady Bridgerton’s tastes were clean, simplistic, and refined most of all. You ran your hand over the soft sheets of the bed, feeling as though if you happened to lay back down, you would not wake for a good long while. Servants quickly moved your trunks into the room, setting your things up for you. You looked around more to see a lovely mahogany desk, perfect for when you had the itch to write. The armoire in the left-hand corner of the room was sleek and elegant in its design, quite grand as well. The true pièce de résistance was the marble fireplace in the center of the room, straight across from your bed. You hand glided ever so smoothly across the sleek mantle, the stone cold to your touch. It appeared the room had not seen use for quite some time.
Once you had given the room thorough exploration, you laid on the bed. Sinking into the cloud beneath you, you felt your eyes begin to close. Other senses began taking over. You noticed the smell in the room, something floral and something that just smelt like…home. Your hands extended out to grip the bedding beneath you, taking their time delving into the pure luxury at their fingertips. You felt safe again. You felt like you were alone. You felt like Nicolas could never find you here, truly your own little corner of the world.
Though you felt alone, you were quickly reminded you were not actually alone. Soon, you heard loud stomping and running as the younger Bridgertons must have woken up. The noises startled you, and you sat up off the bed. It was weird to hear so much noise in the morning. No matter where you had stayed, it had always been quiet. Your family was small after all. In all honesty, most days you did not even see your brother or Elizabeth until 10:00 or 11:00 in the morning. You did not know what time it was exactly, but based on the sun’s position, it couldn’t have even been 9:00 in the morning yet.
Deciding you should try and make a good impression, you motivated yourself to get out of bed. You walked over to the door and opened it. You tried to take a step out, but quickly pulled back as Hyacinth, the youngest Bridgerton, nearly knocked you over.
She herself seemed startled as she stopped dead in her tracks. She whipped her head around to face you, “Y/n?”
Giddy, she ran right up to you, “What on Earth are you doing here?”
You gave her a gentle smile, “Hello to you too Miss Hyacinth. I’ll be visiting for the week. My brother and his wife had some business to attend to back home.”
She didn’t care much for the explanation, “So we’ll have another girl in the house? I’ve got to go tell Gregory! He’s even more outnumbered now!”
She reached out and gave you a hug. It took you by complete surprise that she appeared to have warmed up to you so quickly. But as fast as she embraced you, she darted away with even greater speed to go chase down her brother. It would not be long before the rest of the family knew of you now. You giggled as you watch her scurry down the hall, so full of youth and vigor.
Not entirely sure where to go, you make your way downstairs to the drawing room. It was really the only place of familiarity. No one happened to be in the room, and so you took your place exactly where you wanted to be, at the table behind the pianoforte. You discovered the book Eloise had let you borrow, forgetting that you had accidentally left it in the rush to leave yesterday afternoon. It sat on the table, pristine as ever, waiting to be opened. You finally sit down and open the book, glancing over the first page.
It was difficult to concentrate, but you did your best to sit there and read. You couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps you were suppose to be elsewhere. Maybe there was something else you could do or maybe you might have been in someone’s spot? You waited in anticipation for more of the family to arrive.
After a few moments passed. your wish had been granted. You peer up to see Eloise standing near the fireplace, head cocked to the side in confusion, “Y/n?”
You closed the book swiftly, “Good morning Eloise.”
“What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” she came over to you and sat down at the table.
You knew Eloise had a keen sense of when she was being lied to. So no, you could not tell her a lie, but you could omit information she didn’t need to know. Not right now anyway, “I was going to leave with my family, but they decided it was best I stay in Mayfair to continue the season. Your mother has so graciously opened her home to me. I hope this does not upset you.”
Her mouth hung open a little, “No…no this does not upset me at all. I am excited. I have many more books to show you, and it will be so nice to have a friend in such close proximity. What room are you staying in?”
“Upstairs, 2nd room to the left,” you answer with a smile, happy knowing she did not seem bothered by your presence.
She squealed with delight, “Ah so right across from mine!”
The rest of the family slowly trickled in, each one looking more awake than the next. Kate and Anthony greeted you with smiles, Gregory looked at you confused and a bit standoffish (thought you took no harm as this was probably due to Hyacinth), and Benedict…was no where to be found, not yet at least. You had piped up when you thought you heard footsteps, but it was only Violet with Hyacinth following behind her. Eloise kept you interested in conversation, but you did find yourself wondering where Benedict was.
The thought must have become evident on your face as Hyacinth smirked, “Benedict is always late in the mornings before we promenade. Don’t worry Y/n.”
You blush slightly, embarrassed to have been caught. Before you can say anything, Violet speaks up, “Oh hush. He is not always late. Wasn’t it you, my dear, who made all of us late last time?”
Hyacinth sunk back in her seat, “Well maybe Y/n should go and wake him up…”
Violet snapped her head towards her youngest, “That is enough, Hyacinth. I will go and wake him myself-”
“No need family,” you finally heard his familiar voice, “I am ready now.”
He looks about the room, his gaze stopping dead in its tracks when he sees you. You give a small wave and smile. Meanwhile, Benedict seems frozen in time. He does not seem as confused as the others were at you sitting in the drawing room. He seemed…like he expected you, or maybe half-expected you was the better term for it. His feet then steadily move towards you, seeking you out as if you were the only one in the room.
“Good morning Miss Talbot,” he offers his hand for you to take so that you may join him in standing.
You take his hand, feeling a little bit of a spark as your hand touches his, “Good morning to you too Mr. Bridgerton.”
You look over to see the Viscount and his wife exchange looks before the Viscount speaks, “Alright then family, now that we are all accounted for, let’s get going then.”
You walk with Eloise as you all file out of the house and into the carriages, though Benedict soon comes up to your side, “And whom will you be riding with this morning to the park? My carriage is not so bad if you do not mind the romantic displays of my brother and his wife.”
You giggled, “Thank you, but I will be with Eloise. I do sincerely appreciate your offer.”
Eloise leaned behind your back, looking at Benedict with a smug and teasing expression. Benedict merely rolled his eyes at her. He appeared to be slightly disappointed, but after the night and morning you had, you were not sure you could deal with putting up such a strong front around three different people at once. Omitting information was much easier to you than lying.
You and Eloise walked arm and arm, and both of you excitedly made plans for your week long visit. Eloise picked out several books to tell you about, and you planned to show her some of your favorite poems. They were not ones you had written, but some you had collected over the years. You were most excited to visit the family library Eloise told you about. In hushed voices, you even made plans to sneak into each other’s rooms at night for more private conversations.
“Miss Talbot?” a gentleman from the first ball approached the two of you, and for the life of you, you could not remember his name.
“Lord Oakley,” he quickly added, “Could I invite you to walk with me?”
“I believe you already have,” Eloise replied in a snarky tone.
He peered at her strangely, “Good morning Miss Bridgerton, lively as ever I see.”
“I certainly am and I-” Eloise suddenly got cut off, as out of nowhere, her mother nudged. her to the side. Violet gave Lord Oakley a grin and excused her daughter away.
You and Eloise exchanged looks. The look in her eyes screamed that she felt sorry for you. You gave her a look of reassurance back. You could indeed handle yourself, even if the last thing you wanted right now was to socialize with a stranger, “I should very much like to join you for a walk Lord Oakley.”
You grin and take his arm, you keep a moderate pace as you stroll together. He does not say much at first, perhaps expecting you to be the chatty one. Soon enough he speaks up, “I have heard you are a great lover of art Miss Talbot.”
“I am a moderate fan of art,” you respond, “It is my brother was has more of a love for it than I do. I prefer the written language.”
“Oh, um, yes my apologies,” he is quiet for a moment more, “How are you enjoying Mayfair so far?”
“It is quite pleasant,” you look around at the bird flitting about and the soft sway in the trees, “I never imagined there could be such beauty in the city, but Mayfair has surely not dissatisfied me yet. What do you enjoy about Mayfair, Lord Oakley?”
“The ladies,” he chuckled, “All of you are so accomplished and stunning to the eye.”
You smile, thought not out of an agreeable nature, more out of compliance, “Thank you…are there…any particular attractions you enjoy?”
“Only the one I am so fortunate to have on my arm.”
Did he really think any of this made him charming? Did he truly believe he made you more interested in him with these obtrusive remarks? You tried to pull away slightly, so that you may find some excuse to direct his attention elsewhere or some excuse to leave, but he only tighten his grip. In fact, he pulled you in even closer.
“I missed your presence at the ball the other night, and I am not the only one. You will think it best to avoid resistance,” he sneered quietly.
You gave him a horrified look, “I do not understand.”
“None of us knew where you disappeared off to that night. Then you come back and ignore us for Mr. Bridgerton of all men? You should consider yourself lucky we did not raise such a fuss. I do not know how things work in the countryside during the social season, but it is not very smart to keep us waiting,” he gritted his teeth.
“Lord Oakley!” you hear Benedict come up behind you, “I have not seen you in so long! Finally enjoying fresh air like the rest of us?”
Lord Oakley released his grip on your arm, “Mr. Bridgerton, I can’t say I have seen much of you either. It is nice to see you socializing again.”
The men then stared at each other. You looked between them, confused as to what was happening. You could tell they were sizing each other up, but you could not tell who was winning. Who was the offense? The defense? Were there even sides at all?
Lord Oakley must have conceded as he then nonchalantly smiled and tipped his hat to you, “Good day Miss Talbot…Mr. Bridgerton.”
You watched as Lord Oakley walked away. Feeling a little shaken up but the interaction with him, you kept quiet and looked around for Eloise.
“Was he bothering you?” Benedict inquired.
“Oh? No…no he was not bothering me,” you replied, still shaken up, subconsciously resorting to instincts. It was natural for you to lie to one man about another man.
“Are you sure? He looked as if he was squeezing the life out of your arm,” Benedict gently touched your arm, inspecting it.
You felt a fluttering in your chest, similar to when he touched your shoulder, “It did hurt…a little.”
He hummed, “Well I think it best I accompany you for the rest of our promenade.”
He extended his arm to you. You thought back to what Lord Oakley had just spoke to you.
…Mr. Bridgerton of all men?
You took his arm anyway, deciding that Lord Oakley was not the type of man you wanted to impress anyway, “I believe so too.”
The two of you began your walk in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. Benedict cast glances your way every now and then, but it was only to check in on you. You were much too invested in the cool breeze tickling your skin and the butterflies dancing across the wind. You looked at him a few times too, your eyes meeting before you immediately cast them down.
“Mr. Bridgerton?” you finally spoke, “Thank you.”
He looked at you puzzled, “For…?”
“For coming to my aid,” you look out towards the lake, “I did not care for Lord Oakley’s company.”
“No one hardly does,” he quickly added, “No need to thank me. As soon as I saw him walk towards you, I knew he would be trouble.”
“Do you two have some history between you?” you could not help but ask, Lord Oakley’s words still gnawing at you.
Benedict pondered for a second, “Not that I can think of. Why do you ask?”
“He…well,” if there was ever time you were going to be honest today, you decided now might be a good time, “He seemed displeased that I danced with you that night at the ball, instead of him, or any other gentleman for that matter.”
Benedict laughed, “One man’s jealousy is not any concern of mine or yours for that matter.”
“But he said I ignored him for you of all men, what did he mean by that?” you stopped over by the edge of the lake, sensing that whatever answered he provided to your question might not be appropriate for everyone’s ears.
Benedict sighed, following you to the edge of the lake, “I suppose…I’ve created a certain perception among my fellow gentleman. One that…means I am no threat to them.”
“That I do not consider myself an eligible bachelor,” he clarified.
“By extension, that means any eligible lady who wanted to dance with me…well that would not mean anything in society’s eyes. Not in the way it would if he or any other eligible bachelor danced with…with you,” he continued, “He must have hinted that you should not waste your time. It seems he and maybe other men, would like me to keep not being a threat.”
“But I wanted to dance with you, so why shouldn’t I have?” it all seemed confusing to you.
He paused, scanned your face, then stepped closer to you, “I do not share the same sentiment Lord Oakley does.”
He gently lifted your hand, “I believe you should dance with me if that is your true desire. Furthermore, I think you should dance with me every time you have the desire to do so.”
A deep red blush crept onto your cheeks, “It would not be…a waste of time?”
He lifted your hand to his mouth, giving it a gentle kiss, just as he had done the first night you met, “I do not wish to be a waste of your time Miss Talbot.”
It had been a long, long day. After promenading, you and Eloise went with Violet to pay a visit to the modiste. You were unsure of what color you liked best, usually relying on Elizabeth’s opinion to narrow down your choices. You ended up being convinced to pick a fabric that was the exact same shade of blue as your room in the Bridgerton house. It did not take much convincing, you thought it a beautiful color anyway. You did have a bit of time to yourself today, just enough to take a breath before the family dinner. You did not say much at dinner, and with how exhausted you looked, none of the family members pushed you to speak. Soon after dinner, it was lights out, and you were thankful to finally get some more time alone. You were forever grateful to still be in Mayfair, but you were not used to just how loud the Bridgertons could be when all together.
Once you closed the door to your room, you quickly had your lady’s maid help you out of your clothes. You thanked her as she whisked them away. You quickly put on your night gown and silk robe. You could have fallen asleep, if it were not for the itch in your brain to write something. You had promised a poem for Benedict to read on the day of the gallery viewing at Somerset house. Seeing as how tomorrow was the day, you were nearly out of time. Recently, you had been feeling so uninspired. Though some events of the day could provide you with some fuel for creativity.
Ultimately, you decided to go looking for the library Eloise had mentioned. Sometimes, you took inspiration from other famous works. Somehow reading became the catalyst for letting the words you could not quite write down before flow through you effortlessly. You took a lamp with you, keeping as quiet as you could. Eloise had said it was on the first floor, but unfortunately you had no clue where on the first floor. You felt your way around the rooms, using your light sparingly in case you walked into somewhere you should not be.
Eventually, through some trial and error, you came across what surely must have been the library. You marveled at how many books could be displayed within the small room. Of course, the room was not actually small by any means, but with how densely packed it was, you felt like the room was the perfect cozy little nook. Setting the lamp down, you began looking through the collection, squinting your eyes to find words like Shelley, Keats, and even Byron. The desire to use a variety of sources for your poetry coupled with your curiosity of what all the collection held made you an insatiable, inspired writer. It also made you too focused, thus oblivious to your surroundings.
“Sneaking around your first night?” Benedict’s voice rang behind you.
Gasping, you jump back, turning to face him, “My apologies, I-”
“No need to fret. Your secret literary rendezvous is safe with me,” he set his own lamp down and closed the door behind him.
Alone. You two were alone. Just as you had been the night you met, outside in the garden. This…this was a much more enclosed space. Despite being indoors, you felt you had much more privacy than when the two of you were under the moonlight, “I found a few books. I will be on my way now.”
“Wait…please wait,” he put his arm out in front of the door, “I’ve been waiting to have another opportunity like this with you. Please do not leave, not yet.”
“Mr. Bridgerton, if any of your family found us-”
“I know. I know,” he spoke, “I cannot help it. This might be the only chance this week I am able to speak to the real you.”
“The real me?” you furrowed your brow.
He took a step closer to you, gently taking the book in your hand, “Byron? Keats? Quite romantic if you ask me.”
“No, tell me what you mean,” you take the books back.
“I have noticed, when around others, you put on an act. Not just any act though, not like the ones all ladies put on to impress potential suitors and in-laws,” he took another step closer, “You become so dull…Y/n. So eager to be seen as…suitable…as a perfectly reasonable woman, but with me…I see what lies beneath.”
You become nervous, nervous of what he has to say and what he plans to do, “Benedict…”
“I just want you to know,” he puts his hand on your shoulder, “that you do not have to do that with me. I want to see your passion, more of what lies beneath. It does not scare me. It fascinates me. I crave to see what creativity, what intellect, what desires you are hiding.”
“I…could almost say the same to you,” you chuckled, attempting to lighten the air in the room, “at first, I thought I had done something wrong. I thought I came off too aggressive. Over time since our dance, I have learned something about you too.”
“And just what would that be Y/n?”
“I learned,” you took a step closer to him now, “That even though I am the obvious outsider in this society, you are just as much outsider yourself. You are lost Mr. Bridgerton. You ran after that dance because for once you felt yourself enjoy what society has to offer. We are both artists in our own right. You with your paintings and me with my poetry. We crave to be different, and to be fools falling in love is something so foreign. Just as I have difficulty navigating these waters, you have no compass yourself.”
“How observant you are,” he smirked, “There she is. There is the woman I have been waiting to meet again.”
“I am surprised you are still intrigued despite what you have seen of me,” you looked him right in his eyes.
“I am surprised you are still intrigued despite what you have heard of me,” he retorts.
There was no making light of the tension now. The heavy breaths between you two made the air denser, even downright stifling. You two are evenly matched with each other, locked in a stalemate. Neither one of you will verbally, openly admit exactly what is going through either of your minds.
Perhaps that is why you lean in closer to each other, faces inching closer and closer until Benedict completely closes the gap. Once his lips touch yours, his hand flies into your hair to grip the back of your head, not allowing you to pull back. Once you feel his lips on yours, you did not think you would ever want to pull away. You kissed back with fervor, with longing, with complete passion. He pushes you back against one of the bookcases, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek. You let out a small whimper at his touch, and as soon as your noise pierced the air, he smirked against your lips.
Oh God, what had you gotten yourself into?
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