Benedict pulled at his collar uncomfortably. Night had fallen and he and his brothers, along with a handful of other local men were trussed up in fine suits that put Benedict's entire wardrobe to shame.
And he felt like a fish out of water. He didn't belong in this world. He never had. But here he was, debasing himself for money. Well, not just money. He was doing it for the love of family. He would do anything for his family.
"Look at this lot," Colin whispered. "Have you ever seen such a dog and pony show?"
Benedict stifled a laugh. Of course he hadn't. Not up close anyway. They were in the thick of it now, and it seemed even more absurd to him. The men looked like penguins, backs ramrod straight, drinks in hand, dressed solely in black and white. They all looked exactly the same, save for age and race. And Benedict would know. The Bridgerton siblings all looked famously alike. The same chestnut hair and chocolate brown eyes. The only thing that distinguished Benedict from Colin and Anthony was his height. Benedict was at least two inches taller, making him stand out in any crowd. Usually Benedict was grateful for it, but tonight, he just wanted to blend in unnoticed.
Anthony was at his left shoulder and Colin to his right. He could feel their nervous energy. It was infectious too, because Benedict felt his palms start to sweat, and the rapid pace of his breathing. He hated feeling this way. Even though his daily life was mundane and routine, at least he knew what to expect. He could be himself with his family and friends. Never having to act like anyone else gave him a sense of freedom. And now he was pretending to be stuffy and upright, when all he wanted to do was wear his painting clothes, sleeves rolled up, splashes of color on his face and arms from the intensity of his creativity. But he would do this for his mother. For his siblings. And frankly, a little for himself.
Just when Benedict felt like he would run out of patience, he heard the distant sound of a violin coming from the large ballroom off to his right, just out of sight. The Featherington's butler marched over to the uniformed line of men.
"Alright then you lot. Your job is very simple. Carry the trays. Provide glasses of champagne. Speak only when spoken to. And absolutely, under any circumstances, do not speak to the debutantes. They are far above your station and I will not have you salivating over them."
Benedict barely suppressed his eye roll. Of course they weren't going to fraternize with any members of the ton, especially not a respectable young woman. Unless one wanted to be hanged and quartered, staying away was key.
"Well off you go!" the butler barked.
Colin leaned over so only his brothers could hear.
"Alright lads, show time."
Sophie steeled herself as the Beckett's carriage pulled up to the decent sized mansion.
It was grand, every window lit with candles. She had been here several times before. She didn't particularly mind the Featheringtons. She was actually quite indifferent to all of them, save one: Penelope. The third youngest daughter in a line of redheads, Penelope was a quiet, but sweet and kind wallflower. She only ever had nice things to say to people, Sophie included. In fact, Sophie rather liked speaking to Penelope on the outskirts of the ballroom, whenever she wanted to avoid dancing with another bland gentleman. Yes, Sophie decided, she would immediately seek out Penelope and catch up with the younger girl. At least then, she might actually enjoy her evening.
Her father assisted her in exiting the carriage. Sophie laced her arm through the crook of his elbow. Her mother followed closely behind, already chattering away about all the eligible men who would be there and how she simply HAD to introduce Sophie to them and their mothers.
Sophie heaved a sigh. Knowing what this evening would be in advance had done little to assuage her irritation. Praying for a swift evening, Sophie climbed the stone stairs into the house.
Upon entry she was greeted by a cacophony of sights and sounds. Mrs. Featherington had clearly gone all out for the occasion. Ornate chandeliers hanging overhead were decorated with exotic flowers. It made the whole house smell like a garden. The floors were polished to near sparkling. In fact, Sophie thought she could see her reflection in them. The servers were dressed to the nines, so much so that they almost blended in with the lords and viscounts in their all black and white attire. Sophie entered the ballroom, which was already filled with beautiful women in colorful frocks, The air was charged with their nerves and excitement, all hoping to catch the eye of the most eligible men, perhaps a duke or a count.
That was the main difference that set Sophie apart from the other debutantes. She didn't care about status. Her family was already well-respected on their own. Her dowry was sizable enough that she didn't have to marry the richest man in town. And in all honesty, Sophie didn't want to rely on her husband for money. It would make her beholden to him. Sophie had decided at a young age that she would never be subservient to any man.
And so that secret wish in her heart and soul continued to fester. Knowing she had her pick, that she didn't have to marry for any particular reason gave her hope. Maybe, just maybe, her true love, her Prince Charming was out there. If he was, Sophie was determined to find him.
Her mother gripped her elbow unexpectedly, guiding Sophie around the room, already calling out to other ambitious mamas. Sophie plastered on the public smile she had mastered. It was going to be a long evening.
He had to admit to himself that the night wasn't too unbearable. It mainly involved a lot of standing around, waiting to be summoned by someone who wanted a drink. Sometimes he would catch one of his brother's eyes as they passed each other. Colin would always wiggle his eyebrows or wink suggestively. Anthony, as always, was far more reserved, just giving a curt nod of his head. They were blending in, not bringing any attention to themselves, and making a great deal of money while doing so. Benedict supposed he shouldn't complain.
That was, until, he stumbled a bit, and splashed champagne all down his front.
"Damn," he swore under his breath. Now he would have to leave the ballroom to clean himself up and probably get chastised by the butler for making such a brainless error. Setting down his tray, Benedict hurried from the room, heading in the direction of the nearest men's room.
He passed many people in the halls, and heard some unseemly giggles coming from behind a closed door. Dear god, he thought to himself, please don't let me interrupt anything like that.
He made it to his destination, quickly running to the copper sink as he whipped his suit jacket from his body. He would have to dab some water on it in order to avoid stains, or god forbid, smells. He didn't want anyone thinking he had imbibed and was drunkenly catering to lords and ladies.
After working at it for a few minutes, Benedict realized he now had a new predicament: the jacket was wet. Too wet to put on without soaking his borrowed white dress shirt underneath. Muttering another curse, Benedict decided his best bet was to take the jacket outside, where the warm summer air and light breeze might make quick work of the problem. Now he just had to find a way to sneak onto the terrace and find a secluded corner where no one would notice a servant.
Sneaking furtively through the halls, he glanced around every corner before making his way forward. He could see the grand French doors which led outside directly ahead of him. Taking a risk, he made a mad dash for them, hoping against hope no one would witness his escape.
Thankfully, his absconding went undetected. Benedict rushed through the doors, quietly shutting them behind himself, and quickly swiveled his head from side to side. He saw a few people milling around, but none paid any attention to him. Walking quickly, he headed left, for a dark and secluded corner, away from prying eyes. As he rounded the stone wall where he would be out of sight, he was startled to realize someone else was out there. And not just anyone. But a woman. No, he corrected himself, a debutante. The exact type of person he shouldn't be around, especially alone, outside, in the dark. He went to quietly back up and leave undetected, but she seemed to sense his presence. She turned abruptly, and Benedict was rooted to the spot by the deepest green eyes he had ever seen.
"Who," she said somewhat imperiously, "are you?"
Sophie had only meant to be gone a few moments. She just needed some fresh air, and a break from the overwhelming suffocation she felt in the ballroom. Her mother had introduced her to no less than seven bachelors. None were even remotely interesting. One only spoke about his love of shooting. Another insisted he was the best betting man in all of London. And a third had actually suggested that he had read more books than she had. Sophie was exhausted by it all. Even worse, she had only managed to speak with Penelope for mere minutes before her mother located her and dragged her off to the lemonade table.
And so Sophie found herself looking for an opportunity to sneak away. She found that opportunity when her mother ran into Lady Featherington, who could chat and gossip like no other. Even her mother, who was so prim and proper, couldn't help but be addicted to gossip, like the rest of the ton. She was, afterall, an avid reader of Lady Whistledown, the most famous gossip columnist to ever grace the London papers. So, as soon as Sophie could sense that her mother was deep in conversation with the hostess, she made her move. Striding briskly to the exit, she looked around surreptitiously and fan in hand, she stole out onto the terrace.
She found herself a private spot, around a corner and off to the side. She stood there, looking out over the Featherigton's vast garden. Her mind wandered, focusing on her next steps. She would have to choose soon. Perhaps she should start narrowing down a list. The thought sickened her. To choose a husband from a list of names, hardly knowing the man, was less than ideal. But Sophie knew her lot in life. This was what was expected of her. It had been since the day she had been born. Sophie looked up the night sky, once again hoping against hope. Maybe she was even praying. She would never know for sure, because at that moment, she sensed someone near her. It was more than a sense really. It felt like. . . . electricity. She was acutely aware of this person, and yet she knew they were a stranger. The air grew hot and thick and Sophie knew she needed to turn around; she needed to know who this was that was affecting her so.
She spun quickly, shocked to find a tall, well-dressed man slowly backing away from the railing where she stood.
A slight shiver of fear went through her. She had never truly been alone with a man, especially a handsome one with such a striking build. He would tower over her if they were standing closer, Sophie was sure of it. Mustering up her courage and standing up straight to appear more imposing than she felt, Sophie asked him a simple question:
"Who are you?"
He looked like a deer caught in the crosshairs. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a moment, clearly struggling with whether he should answer her or flee from her presence. Eventually, he chose the former.
"I'm Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton."
Bridgerton? She had never heard that family name before she was sure of it. He certainly didn't look familiar. And she knew she would have remembered him. His height, his chestnut hair, the warmth of his eyes. None of it would have escaped her memory. But here he was, standing before her, and she realized with a thrill she was alone with a man she didn't know from Adam. It both terrified and excited her.
"Well Mr. Bridgerton, what brings you out to my private section of the terrace?"
He cracked a small smile.
"I was unaware it belonged to you Miss….."
With a start, she realized he didn't know who she was. Not that she was full of herself, but most people in London knew her family, and knew of their only child.
"Beckett," she found herself telling him. "Sophie Beckett. And I never said I owned it, just was occupying it momentarily."
He made a mock little bow, which irritated Sophie for some reason.
"Excuse me then Miss Beckett, I hate to disturb your solitude."
He went to turn and leave.
"Wait," Sophie shocked herself by saying. "Why have I never seen you before?"
Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she thought she saw a flush of embarrassment cross his face.
He hesitated for a long moment and then cleared his throat nervously.
"I'm . . . . new to town. Haven't been here very long. This is my first event I've attended."
It was partially true he thought to himself ruefully.
"Oh," she said thoughtfully, letting the word hang in the air.
"I truly am sorry if I've disturbed you Miss Beckett. I assure you it was entirely accidental."
She smiled warmly at him, a little embarrassed by her behavior now.
"It's quite alright," she replied. "I rather enjoy talking with someone new. I already know every person there." She tilted her head back towards the ballroom. "So this is rather refreshing for me."
Benedict could hardly believe the situation he found himself in. Here he was, a nobody, standing with a beautiful woman of the ton, and she actually seemed grateful for his company.
He decided to press his luck.
"So Miss Beckett, are you on the marriage mart this year?"
She looked at him forlornly.
"Yes unfortunately. This is my second season. I was rather hoping I would have more time, but my parents desperately want me to make a match this year."
"And yet you do not seem to want the same thing."
She blushed. How had he known that? Did her face give her away?
"And what about you Mr. Bridgerton? What are your intentions this season?"
He gave her a mysterious smile.
"Oh I'm just a tourist, passing through, soon to disappear back into the night."
"Well that's certainly no fun," saying as she frowned. "All the mamas will be so disappointed. I'm sure they would find you to be an excellent catch for any of their daughters out this year."
"Is that so?" he questioned. "And what about you Miss Beckett? Do you believe I am a catch?"
He was teasing her, she knew it. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of stroking his ego, she thrust her chin out.
"I could not say. I have only just made your acquaintance and know nothing about you as you have remained so mysterious."
"Ask me anything about myself. I'll tell you what I'm willing to."
Really this man was frustrating. Sophie hated puzzles and she was determined to get to the bottom of this perplexing Mr. Benedict Bridgerton.
"Very well," she huffed. "Tell me about your family."
He hesitated for a moment, and then his eyes seemed to decide he could convey this information.
"I come from a large family. There are 8 children in total, 4 girls and 4 boys. I am the second eldest. And then there's my mother of course."
"What about your father?" she interrupted.
He gazed at her with an ineffable expression.
"My father died many years ago."
She blanched, feeling uncomfortable.
"I'm so sorry," she replied. "I shouldn't have asked."
He tilted his head and looked at her curiously.
"No it's fine. I don't mind talking about it. I loved him very much. He was a wonderful father."
Sophie's heart fluttered at the obvious adoration he felt for his family. That was a core value to her: family. She had decided long ago she could never marry a man who wasn't close to his.
She began rambling nervously.
"I'm an only child. I love my mama and papa very much of course, but we aren't particularly close. They have their bridge clubs and horse races and luncheons, and I often opt to stay at home by myself. But they are wonderful people and they have always had my best interests at heart all my life. I am so very grateful to them."
Benedict nodded understandingly.
"What do you like to do when you stay at home? When you're not out dazzling at grand parties and balls?"
She flashed him a smile and leaned forward, almost conspiratorially.
"Don't tell anyone, but I like to go on adventures."
His eyes widened in surprise.
"Where does a respectable young lady such as yourself adventure to exactly?"
She sighed a little wistfully.
"My adventures only go as far as our library I'm afraid. I so love to read. Mainly romance and adventure novels. Anything that transports me to different places and times. I can pretend to be anyone. I can -"
"Escape." He had finished her sentence.
She stared at him, baffled how he once again knew what she was thinking.
"Yes," she told him. "Exactly that."
He stared deep into her eyes then, once again looking like he was aching to divulge a secret.
"I often escape too," he practically whispered.
"Oh? And where do you go Mr. Bridgerton?"
"Into my paintings."
This truly surprised her. She hadn't expected to learn he was artistic. Usually men of the ton had more masculine hobbies. Shooting, fencing, racing horses, just to name a few. She began to realize that the man in front of her was very different, truly an enigma she had never encountered.
"What do you paint?" she asked softly.
He shrugged,
"Mostly landscapes. I've done a few portraits of my family. I often give them as gifts for Christmas."
A blush crept over his face as he said this. Sophie wondered what that was about. Was he ashamed for some reason?
"That sounds lovely. I would love to see your work one day," she said boldly.
His mouth dropped open and he swallowed convulsively.
"You would?"
"Of course. You seem to have half a brain, unlike most of the men I am forced to converse with, therefore I would venture to guess that your art isn't half-bad either."
Benedict laughed in spite of himself. This woman was impressive. Her face was unmatchable, that much was true. But she was so much more behind all that. She was whip-smart, didn't suffer fools, and had interests that ranged beyond embroidery and playing a musical instrument. She was, he thought to himself, the kind of girl he'd like to marry one day.
If only they weren't from different worlds.
He could have stayed there, talking to her forever. But then he heard it, the distant calling of his name.
His head whipped around. Dear god it was Anthony looking for him. He didn't even know how long he had been gone,but certainly it had to be long enough that someone noticed. His brother certainly had.
He turned back to the enchanting woman.
"Miss Beckett you will have to forgive my rudeness but I must make a hasty departure. I hear my brother summoning me. He probably means to leave and I must accompany him."
A look of surprise crossed her face, but she did not argue with him.
"Very well Mr. Bridgerton. I have had a lovely time speaking with you. I wonder if it is not too forward to ask if you will be calling on me tomorrow?"
His brain stopped. His heart dropped. Never, ever in his wildest dreams had he imagined she would want to see him again. And how could he promise her he would call? He had no money for flowers or any fancy clothes to wear. And he was a commoner. Which she didn't know, since he conveniently had left that information out. Panic well and truly set in as he scrambled to think of how to respond.
"Tomorrow? Tomorrow I was going to go out into the hills and paint."
He cringed internally. A very flimsy excuse if there ever was one.
But she clearly would not be deterred.
"Very well. Then perhaps I may accompany you? I shall bring my lady's maid to ensure we are properly supervised?"
This woman he thought to himself. She was utterly magnificent.
"Yes that would be lovely Miss Beckett. I shall also pack a small picnic lunch for us. Would you be able to meet at West End Road and we can walk from there?"
She nodded her head and the smile she gave him almost knocked him over. Benedict was shooting far above his station and he knew this wouldn't last. But he couldn't help himself. He needed to be NEAR Sophie Beckett. He suddenly felt as if she were as indispensable as air.
"Excellent," he said. "Then I shall see you tomorrow at noon."
He took her gloved hand in his and gently raised it to his lips. He brushed a kiss over it and gave her what he hoped was a confident smile.
"And I'm very much looking forward to seeing you again Miss Beckett."
And with that, he swiftly turned around and strode forward into the night to find his brothers.