The Second Born Bridgerton // Benedict Bridgerton

A mess, dear sister

I wish to tell someone of my latest adventure but I know I cannot. Not even Penelope or Genevieve, I cannot trust anyone with this. I was well aware of the repurcussions that I could face if I did let slip. The first thing I do when I arrive home is write a letter to be sent first thing in the morning.

Dear Big, bad Benedict bridgerton,

I apologise for the delay in my response, how rather unladylike of me. It is no excuse, but I found myself rather preoccupied last night and so I could not possibly have replied to yourself. I am sure you understand this predicament, being such a busy and important man yourself.

Otherwise, I hope you continue to enjoy the art that I was kind enough to send to you. One day, that shall be priceless and so I do encourage you to hold onto it. You never know when your fortunes should change.

Yours, Peaches Featherington

I hand the letter to my lady as quickly as I can, before I climb into bed and pretend as though I am sleeping for when my mother enters in only a few moments time. And as predictable as ever, she glides into the room with philipa and prudence in tow. "Peaches, you must rise immediately. We must discuss your marriage prospects at haste."

"Oh yes, of course mother." As ways, I stretch my arms upwards and perform a fake yawn to give the impression I have just woken, before rising and realising that I have never undressed from my evening gown.

"Peaches, have you worn your evening dress to bed?" Philipa giggles and prudence joins in, my mother narrowing her eyes ever so slightly. "Why have you done that Peaches?"

"Oh, goodness. I was ever so worn out from the excitement of the ball, I must have gotten straight into bed and fallen asleep. I apologise mother, I am ever so worn out with all the social events. I have not become so accustomed to the busy life!" I force myself to laugh so that she may take more kindly to the pathetic excuse that I offer to her.

"Nevermind, Peaches. Make haste and be at the breakfast table as quickly as you can." She nods, before turning on her heels and striding from the room.

To my surprise, philipa and prudence do not follow our mother along like little obedient dogs as they always do, instead continuing to lurk by my door. "My dear sisters, is there something that I can help you with, or will you continue to stand there as I undress and bathe?" With this, they both giggle along with each other, before they leave, the door still wide open. I huff, closing the door and placing my chair against the handle so that I might actually get some warning before someone decides to allow themselves into my privacy once again. I strip from my dress, then deciding to open my curtains ever so slightly so that I might see whether he has already risen or not. In an instant, I see that he has already woken and he is sitting at his desk by the window, his brow furrowed as though he is writing an important letter or putting all the concentration and effort that he can muster into a sketch. He notices me, dropping the pencil, his grin widening. This makes me giggle a little as I think of the events of the night previous, quickly closing the curtain so that I can throw myself happily onto my bed.

Apparently, the chair did not do a good enough job, as Penelope manages to get through it, pushing the door open but at least she closes it behind her. "Peaches, we must talk."

"Why must we talk, Pen? What does it matter if we talk or if we do not talk or if... if... does anything matter other than Benedict Bridgerton? My dear sister, you were so right. I am madly and irrevocably in love, and I do not know what to do with myself. He is all I think about for, I wish only to be in his company, I cannot stand the moments I am away from him. I am in love, Pen." I sigh, muttering to myself, and I must sound like a mad woman. This just makes Penelope smile. "You smile, is that a good thing? It is a good thing, is it not? Is smiling good? It is good when he smiles."

"You are a mess, dear sister!" Penelope no longer just smiles, instead giving me a hearty giggle, placing both of her hands on top of mine to hold them, squeezing them gently and reassuringly. "And what did he do to provoke such a reaction from you? Will he propose?"

"He has said that he shall propose within the season. And he said that if Anthony tries to deny him the right, then he shall take me to Gretna Green, dear sister. If that does not prove that he is serious that I am not sure what shall! Oh, I have never felt so happy, Pen, I have never felt anything like this whatsoever. It is just as Lord Granville told me."

"Lord Granville told you? I did not know that you and the lord were such good friends that he should give you marriage advice." Pen leans in as though she is about to receive a juicy piece of gossip from my mouth, and she prods as though she is lady whistledown. "That is where you sneak out to each night, is it? I assumed it were to see Benedict but I realised that his light is always on, he was not going anywhere. You are visiting Lord Granville?"

"Pen, I do believe you have now overstayed your welcome." I am serious, but I do tease, and so she nods and smiles and she takes her leave. As soon as she is gone from my room, I jump to my feet and rush to the curtains once more to see whether he is still there. Of course he still is, the picture of concentration until he notices me. His eyebrow rises as he looks quizically at me, and so I close the curtain once again, giggling happily to myself. I understand why people do such ridiculous things when they are in love, because that is exactly how I feel at this very moment.