Benedict had not seen her for some weeks. He wasn't sure if she were avoiding him but somewhere he couldn't help thinking that because every time he went to see Madame Delacroix and looked for reasons to stay, she wasn't there. Genevieve began to find it a little strange, his repeated visits. In any case, she was noticing, and she could see that he was clearly beginning to show less interest in her and his eyes were searching for someone else. Yet she did not think the time was ripe to call him out on it but instead preferred to observe him for now.
No, Benedict hadn't seen Alina for a while, and she didn't hang around to work overtime either. Until that one evening. He had come to Genevieve with an excuse like the last time, they had not even made love, in fact they did little to no more. Genevieve had frowned at the sight of him but had otherwise made herself scarce, as she had an appointment somewhere.
He had found her, and the way he would never forget it made him smile... She had fallen asleep on the sofa with the garment she was working on, a powder blue dress with all sorts of frills and colourful flowers embroidered on it. She had draped the dress over herself, over her waist, as if it were a blanket, but it didn't look like that. No, it looked like she was a sleeping princess, someone who could fit into one of the balls of the 'ton'. She was walking on her left side and her face was enclosed by her long brown hair. Benedict looked at her closed eyes, her full lips and how she was sleeping peacefully and could not help but find her attractive.
He had no idea that Alina now had two jobs, one with a law firm as a cleaner and the second, of course, with Madame Delacroix, to pay for her mother's medical expenses.
He had no knowledge of the fate of the workers in his world, how making long days influenced body and soul and that the sacrifice was outweighed by the reward, a measly pay. Of course, he was not aware of this, but how could he not be?
After staring at her for a while, well it wasn't really staring... he lied to himself and realised that it was no longer appropriate and that he really should wake her up. Benedict cleared his throat, but she was apparently so tired that she did not even wake up.
He tried again and again and had no effect until he had no other choice but to wake her up physically now, he thought. Benedict walked carefully towards her and the closer he came the harder it was for him to concentrate, bent over, grabbed her shoulder very gently and nudged twice, before taking several steps back not to frighten her.
She didn't wake up immediately but when she did it was with a loud gasp, followed by a petrified glance at him. Then, after a few minutes, realising that she had fallen asleep at work and that he, of all people, had found her, she turned red but got up immediately.
"Mr... Brid... Sir. I can assure you that this has never happened before... I, I just wanted to rest my eyes for a little bit. I didn't expect to fall asleep" she said looking at the ground while feeling mortified to her core.
"You don't have to answer to me Miss Kennedy" he said with a friendly smile, and it was but she didn't see it.
"I, I'd like it if...you wouldn't tell Madame anything- she began to stammer, again frightened at the possibility of losing a job she needed.
"I won't tell her anything... Really, I won't. You can trust me." She could trust him? What kind of strange remark was that from his side as if they were talking as two new acquaintances.
Yet she found it would be rude to call him out because he interacted with her, so she refused from comment.
She just nodded without looking at him and then quickly walked away and put the unfinished dress on a table.
"You are really good at what you do," Benedict remarked, again smiling friendly.
She only nodded again, this time in thanks, hoping that she would be spared further embarrassment. All she wanted now was to go home and get into bed, as Alina was exhausted. What was he doing here? Why did she have to run into him every time? It almost seemed as if he was deliberately seeking her out and finding excuses to run into her, but the very idea was ridiculous. These encounters were just coincidences... right?
Alina reached for her coat and wrapped it tightly around her, then put on her hat and draped her scarf around her neck. It was now a lot colder than before and people were saying that there would be snow, well Alina hoped not, they already couldn't afford to heat their little house. Besides, her mother would undoubtedly catch a cold and that would affect her already poor lungs.
She was already shivering in her thin coat, which he noticed to her dismay but didn't remark on it. Instead, he repeated something he had said to her before.
"It is really cold out there today" and he looked towards the exit.
"Last time you declined my offer, I hope this time you will accept me getting you home" he said seriously but she shook her head and said no even though the idea was tempting. He didn't need to take her home, and certainly not to see where she lived, she had been embarrassed enough for today. He seemed to have realised this somehow, to her surprise, and made a counteroffer.
"If you like, I can drop you off a few blocks away... so that . you can go the last bit on foot," he said, taking a few cautious steps forward. She looked doubtful for a while, as if she were reasoning with herself, but then she murmured a soft "okay then" while looking at him with difficulty.
"Good" smiled Benedict. "I'll get my coat and I'll see you outside he said like it was the most casual thing in the world. At that moment, common sense kicked in and she vehemently despised herself for agreeing to his idea. She wasn't pressed about her reputation, although she wouldn't want people to think that she was his mistress but nonetheless couldn't understand why he wasn't worried about hers. If he were to be to be seen with her, a poor seamstress, Lady Whistledown would have a field day.
Being new in London and not knowledgeable about the people who circled in the upper classes he had carefully dropped the name to her colleagues to find out more and soon the ladies were talking at length about the Bridgertons. With no fewer than eight children, including four daughters and sons, they were a well-known and much-loved family in London. The Viscount, Anthony had married a few months ago, so Alina was told, and the position of desirable bachelor in the 'barrel' had now shifted to Benedict, the second in line.
"Lady Whistledown is very fond of him and has proclaimed him the most desirable and handsome bachelor of all the bachelors a couple of times," explained Elly, one of the younger, inexperienced interns.
"While I have never seen Mr. Bridgerton myself I'm sure she's right because she's never wrong... OOH. That reminds me... Remember Lady Whistledown wrote about the Jefferson's... It turns out she was telling the truth; he has impregnated their kitchen maid! Can you believe that?" she said but Alina was already no longer listening.
Most desirable bachelor huh? She didn't like the gossip magazine, but the writer had often been right, and Alina had to admit, Benedict Bridgerton was a nice-looking man to behold. Very nice looking if she was honest.
What made him attractive the most, Alina found, was his disarming smile that somehow was always genuine, and he seem to smile while moving every muscle in his face. Yet... She had been a fool to accede to his request, she realised, as she hid at the back entrance, deliberately standing away from the lampposts that shone their light on her. Alina intended not to wait any longer and to run away until the carriage suddenly appeared in front of her, and she could not run away.
The coachman stepped down, looked at her in a solemn way and opened the door for her. There he was, staring out the window for a moment, but when the door had opened, he looked in her direction, straight at her. She stood there staring at him for a moment before she realised that she really had to get in now.
She did so slowly, holding on to the left-hand rail of the carriage, and had reached the highest step, only to see him hold out a hand to her for the last bit.
Alina did not accept it and he looked disappointed for a moment, but otherwise didn't let on.
"Where to? " the coachman asked Benedict, who looked at Alina for reference. She hadn't expected it, his instant gaze and was momentarily taken aback by it. They locked eyes and there was a moment when neither of them could look anywhere else... until she realised what she was doing.
"Church Street, please," she said with a small voice. Yes, from Church Street would be the best way to get home without him finding out where she really lived.
The coachman took his place and they left. The first few minutes were painful as Alina did her best to stare out the window, anywhere but him, and he did the same but sometimes dropped his gaze on her. The silence became uncomfortable for the talkative Benedict and it had been his aim to get more interaction with her, so he spoke up.
"Madame Delacroix tells me that you have not worked for her long. He felt like an idiot as soon as he uttered the sentence, since he was openly referring to Genevieve, reminding her of the 'relationship' he had with her employer which was the last thing he had wanted to do.
"That's right, sir" she replied shortly, not wanting to give any more details, and again focused her gaze back on something, this time the interior of the carriage.
"Have you lived in London long?" asked Benedict in attempt to get some sort of a conversation going.
"No sir. We have been here just a couple of months." she answered again without the need to go into detail which frustrated but he wasn't deterred that easily.
She said we... and he was curious as to who she was referring to, somewhere hoping she wasn't referring to a boyfriend or husband even though he didn't know why he did hope that.
"We?" he repeated. Alina immediately understood her mistake but had no other option to explain.
"Me and my mother," she said softly, obviously still fascinated by the upholstery of the coach as she looked straight ahead to avoid looking at him.
"Ah I see" said Benedict which was a weird thing to say because it didn't really help continue the conversation, so he tried again.
"Any siblings?" he asked.
He asked, to which she shook her head, at least not a living one. She had hardly known her elder brother, who had died when she was four years old.
"I have seven" he said in a friendly tone to which she only nodded; she already knew this but didn't say anything else. It began to dawn on her that it was not very polite of her to give short answers every time, or not to ask him anything. Even though she regretted accepting his offer and hoped that this decision would not bite her in the behind later, that did not mean she had to behave like this. Besides, he had been a gentleman all the times she had seen him and had not shown any improper behaviour.
"What... what are their names...?" she asked as she turned her head to him carefully, very carefully.
Relieved that he no longer had to have the conversation on his own, he explained that they were called Anthony, Colin, Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth and talked about the ABC concept of their names. He then briefly went into what his siblings did, that Daphne was now Duchess of Hastings and his brother Anthony had married a few months ago. Colin wanted to go on a trip soon, Eloise didn't care for conventions and preferred reading to going to a ball, Francesca was staying with an aunt, and how the two youngest Bridgerton's fought like cat and mouse but couldn't be apart for too long either.
"That must be nice, to have so many brothers and sisters" she said with a small smile while she looked at him very briefly, too briefly according to Benedict, but he had to make do with it.
"Well, no it is not for they are all incredibly annoying " he explained but she saw the gleam in his eyes and heard the loving way he had spoken about them.
They glanced at each other and once again, just like the last time, their gazes stayed focused on each other a little too long and she was the one who turned away first and looked outside.
"Here is far enough, um thank you" she uttered when she saw that they were almost at Church Street. Benedict yelled for the coachman to stop and the carriage came to a halt. The man wanted to get down to help Alina get off the carriage, but Benedict called out that he would.
"Oh no, there's really no need. I can-" she tried to interject but he refused to listen.
"Please wait" was all he said and then stepped out to the front and opened the door for her and held out a hand. She looked at it, then briefly at him, hesitated for a moment but then decided to take his hand.
His hold on her was firm but not hurtful at all, to him, her hand felt icy, and the cold seemed to affect his as well, as it seemed to pass through his glove.
Alina's heart suddenly began to beat harder, much to her dismay, making them want to get out of this situation even faster. She moved too fast, and took a wrong step, or rather slipped, and would undoubtedly have fallen hard on the street... had he not moved forward to grab her with one arm and putting the other on her back. This to her horror meant that she was now being... effectively held by him.
It felt nice, to be held by him, to be held by a man perhaps, but by him even more so. She hadn't had much experience with men apart from... from a kiss on the lips of her neighbour's boy when she was 12, she hadn't experienced much in that... area of life and didn't want to after what occurred to her four years later.
However when she was held by this man she barely knew and instead of feeling frightened she felt at ease. Safe.
He took short breaths or was it her, she didn't know, but didn't seem to want to let go to her surprise, so she was the one that recoiled, very shortly after but when she did, she did it so fast she bumped into the open carriage door, against the window frame and it made her winch in pain.
Benedict knew he shouldn't chuckle, but the whole thing was comical to watch and her clumsiness so endearing. She looked at him angrily for a moment, then reminded herself of her place, she had no right to be angry with him at all. Who was she after all? Alina stepped away from him, intending to walk away immediately and muttering a thank you in the meantime, but once again she was stopped.
"You, okay? Sorry... I didn't mean to laugh at you" he said apologetically.
"Yes, I am fine. Uhm, thank you for taking me home. I can manage from here" she stated.
Benedict looked around. He had never been to this part of London before, but it didn't look... great. There were drunken men sleeping on both sides of the street, the alley she wanted to walk into was badly lit and it smelt awful as the rubbish was just lying on the street.
"I'll walk with you" he insisted, and she panicked immediately. Her eyes grew large in shock and she began to shake her head.
"No, you don't have to. Please go back into the carriage, it's... it's not safe here for people... like you" she weakly argued.
"And I suppose it is for you?" he retorted and yes, he had a point, but she didn't want to admit he was right and was lying.
"Yes... So please go back", Alina urged this time with more determination.
He looked at her for a long time bit his lip but then shook his head.
"I am joining you. End of discussion" he said and took a few steps forward. When she did not follow, he turned and said, "Are you coming?" whereupon Alina sighed and joined him.
They walked forward in silence, and the more they approached her little house, the more the tension in Alina's whole being increased. When they finally reached the corner where she had to turn, she stopped and looked at him pleadingly.
"This really is far enough... All I have to do is turn a corner here and I'm already there, there is no risk for me to go alone I assure you." she said with a pleading glint in her eyes, hoping he wouldn't insist on escorting her the last part. She was embarrassed enough for a lifetime as it is, the last thing she wanted was seeing her small and ridiculously humble abode.
He seemed to understand thankfully and nodded as response.
"Okay, then. Then our paths part here" he smiled briefly.
"Goodnight, Miss Kennedy" he said with that gentle soft-spoken tone of voice of his that for some reason she liked to hear.
"Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton." and then he bowed to her, bowed, and turned and left.
He was almost out of the alley, but something told him to look back and there she was, still standing. But he said nothing and continued walking until he got the urge again to turn to her and ... yes, there she was, still standing.
Benedict walked back a few steps but kept his distance from her as she had that startled expression on her face again.
"May I ask why you haven't gone home yet?" he asked her with raised eyebrows.
"I want to see if you arrive safely at the carriage first," she said, to which something stirred in him, a feeling he could not yet classify or wanted to classify.
"That's kind of you. " he beamed.
"Well... um... it's nothing really, just want to make sure you get to your carriage unharmed" she awkwardly tried to convey. Oh God, she was thankful for the bad lighting otherwise he would have seen her blush.
"Thank you, I appreciate that. Well, I'll be off then" he said and started to move away again but... then got an idea.
He deliberately started moving slowly, very slowly, like a snail, and did so for a few minutes until he heard her cry out after him.
"This is not funny, Mr. Bridgerton..." she cried out in agony and he couldn't help but turn to her and start laughing. She didn't know why... no doubt she had lost her mind, but she joined him a moment later and when they were both done, they shared another glance of understanding, of something but It didn't last long as she soon directed her gaze elsewhere.
"I'm really going now don't worry" he said before walking off and getting in. He looked at her for a moment but kindly, and then signalled to the coachman to leave.
Alina did not hesitate and left immediately, walking the last 10 minutes home. She had lied, it had been a white lie, but she had deceived him about where she lived. When she arrived home, she finished dinner, ate, and quickly went to bed.
There she pondered over the day she had had and especially the last few hours, and without realising it, she smiled before falling into a deep sleep.
Benedict arrived at his home, not his parents' home but the residence he had for himself, ate his dinner and then sat down in his drawing room with a whiskey and a cigar.
He, too, thought about the day he had had and especially the last few hours and, without realising it, he, too, smiled.
Benedict felt more and more compelled to go to the seamstress, which as a man was of course absurd, but he could not do anything about it. The following day, he had appointments that he could not cancel, so he had to be patient. One Friday afternoon, when he went to see Madame Delacroix again, hoping to find her, he found someone else.
"Oh hi... Gen. Nice to see you here," he stammered, and she grinned.
"Where else would I be?" she asked, trying her best not to burst out laughing.
"Yes, of course, silly of me," he said, running his eyes over the sewing rooms.
"She is not here," Genevieve mentioned o so casually after a couple of minutes.
" Who's not here?" he asked, hoping she didn't see through him but the tilt in her head and her "who are you kidding" stare said it all.
Genevieve rose from her chair and walked gently towards him, placing her hands on his upper arms.
"I've enjoyed spending time with you... Too bad it has to end here" she said softly.
"What do you mean? Why...does it have to-?" he asked her, but he couldn't dislike the sentence and her expression told him enough. He nodded and then gave a defeated sigh.
"Sorry Gen for this... I um... I-" and he sighed because he couldn't find the words. How awkward was it that he had to share with his former mistress that another woman had... had...
"You don't have to justify anything to me dear.. I know what I was getting into and so did you... Trust me... I saw this coming but to be honest I didn't expect it to be with one my of my staff" she said and a little smirk appeared on her face.
"I do wish to warn you..Know what you are getting into darling. I, of all people, don't need to tell you... that no matter how much we like things to be different we can't escape reality" Genevieve argued.
Benedict bit his lip. She was right, 100% right but he didn't want to believe it.
"I don't know... I don't know where this is going, I don't know what I'm doing but something inside is telling me I should... I should-".
"Find how you're feeling about her?" she finished the sentence for him.
"Yes" he sighed.
Genevieve retreated for a moment and released him in the process.
"I see" she said before taking a little pause.
"In that case, I'm sorry Benedict but your visits here... They must stop... I, I can't afford a bad reputation, and neither can you".
"Of course, I understand that " replied Benedict equally dismissively.
"That said... I'm going to Bath next week to visit my sister. If you're in the area, you can always drop by. At least, only next week" she added with a subtle grin.
He grinned back even more when he understood what she meant...
"Thank you, Genevieve... And sorry for-"
"Yes. yes. Don't worry" and she gestured with her hands to implicate that there was no need apologize.
"It's all good" she said.
He had waited a few days until he was sure that Genevieve had indeed left and then, on a drizzly Tuesday afternoon/evening, he headed for the sewing shop. Benedict walked in and was about to curse himself for not having come sooner until he saw her coming out of the rooms.
"Oh. Hello Mr. Bridgerton". This time she was fortunately not so startled at bumping into him, as if she were used to seeing him there, to see him, which he was inwardly pleased about.
"Hello Miss Kennedy" he spoke. "Good to see you again" he added.
"Likewise,", she said finding it strange that he had come as he should have known that Genevieve had left but perhaps, he did not.
"Madame Delacroix is not here... She is visiting her sister for a week".
Benedict took a little pause to reply, first looking at her penetratingly as if to decipher her she felt. It didn't make her feel uncomfortable just... a tad apprehensive about what he was going to say perhaps.
"I know that" he said and somehow this statement made her heartbeat further.
"Oh. Then why are you here?" she asked him cautiously; slightly worried for the answer but she had to ask him.
"To see you" he said very softly, almost too softly to hear and right at that moment the world as Alina knew it would never be the same.
