,wallflower' • BRIDGERTON

chapter 18

"Keep looking at yourself in the mirror." He whispered before his eyes glanced back over at Benedict, who's cheeks were a flush red. Benedict noticed by the way Isaac pulled Hope flush against his body, and the way he looked at him...

He was showing Hope off... like some kind of prize he had won. Benedict breathed in, listening to Hope's moans become more high pitch. "I am close." She said before Isaac's pace increased to point where Hope's eyes squeezed shut. "Let go." Isaac whispered against her ear. Hope's head threw back before she reached an orgasmic climax.

She shuddered before slumping against Isaac, completely exhausted. He trailed his finger back up and placed his thumb in Hope's mouth and she turned around to face him once more. He took out his thumb and they kissed passionately, as Hope cupped his face.

Benedict's eyes finally snapped away and he cleared his throat quietly before leaving her door, his fists clenched.

✑

Once Hope took a bath and cleaned off the smell of Isaac from her skin and she put on a white silk night gown, since the sun had set and it was well into the night. She thought about how Isaac never answered her when she asked if he could be more to her.

He... ignored her almost. Hope walked out of the wash room, her hair damp with water. She walked nearly sluggish-like into the ballroom that led to the grand stairs. She walked up the flight, and turning right instead of left. She walked down the dimly lit hallway and she saw that Benedict's door was open slightly ajar, and she could see a slither of candle light bleed through. Hope breathed in and wandered to his door.

She approached it and timidly looked inside, she could see Benedict lying in bed, under his duvet as he was reading a poetry book. She glanced back, suddenly not wanting to bother him. "Hope, are you alright?" She heard him say from within his bed room. She looked back at him with a hesitant expression.

"I'm quite well... I just took a bath not too long ago." She said, voice nearly as quiet as a church mouse. Benedict looked at her with confusion. "It is nearly well into the night." He said, Hope stepped back a bit, shaking her head. "I understand, I will see you in the morning." She said, nearly leaving—but her name was called by Benedict, making her stop.

She stepped back inside and looked at him. He looked at her antsy expression and her hands, which clenched into a fist ever so often. "Come in." He said, pulling back his duvet and scooting over, making room for her lie down beside him. She walked in completely and got into his bed, climbing up to the space he left for her. She got under the duvet and she felt her eyes sting as she laid on her side, facing Benedict.

Tears began to build. "I asked Isaac if he could be more to me but... it seems I was not heard. I do not understand why I am so upset, there was no indication that me and him were in love. We only needed one another for lust, that was all. I just... fantasied a little more than usual."

"Isaac seemed a good option for a husband, we complimented each other well... It was my fault, I expected too much from him." Hope sniffled and tears fell from her eyes and landed on her cheeks, her eyes turned pink. "You simply thought he was fit for you to wed. There is no harm in that, is there?" He asked, Hope shook her head softly before a soft sob left her lips.

"Is there simply just one man who wants my heart?" She said, Benedict looked down at her with a sigh. He placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it, trying to gift the girl a sense of comfort. Her eyes turned an irritated pink and tears snuck to her cheeks. Benedict looked at her with a face full of sympathy.

"Come here." He whispered, motioning for her to join his side. And once she did she tucked her face into his neck, he wrapped an arm around her and shushed her softly. He hadn't had a strong opinion about this Isaac Riddle, but after today.

He wasn't exactly an acquaintance to Benedict.

✑

Benedict decided to promenade Mr. Mondrich's bar, since he had heard good word of the place. Once he arrived in gorgeously lit room he had smiled in wonder. He suddenly spotted Mr. Mondritcg, who greeted him with a welcoming grin.

"Mr. Bridgerton! You honor me with your presence." He said, shaking the man's hand. "The honor's all mine, Mr. Mondrich. Then place looks extraordinary. Though... am I a little early?" Benedict said, not seeing many people in the bar. He crossed his arms.

"The crowd will increase with time, naturally." Mr. Mondrich said before he escorted the man throughout. "I heard a rumor that you yourself are an artist."

Benedict hummed before looking up at the ceiling. "Oh... I... dabble." He says. Mondrich chuckled before placing his hands behind his back. "Then, you just meet Mr. Cruikshank. He's a talented illustrator with many connections amongst artists and patrons." He said, they look over at a man with brunette hair and intense sideburns, he was talking with another man at a fireplace close by.

Benedict looked back at Mondrich with a hesitant expression. "I'm always excited to meet talented people." He said.

The two of them then walked off towards a table with glass cups and aged gin. "This is precisely what makes my establishment different, Bridgerton. I know you and your brothers are comfortable at place's like White's, but every honest man, regardless of his title, rank, or occupation, is welcome to be here." Mondrich said as he made both him and Benedict a drink. Benedict smiled warmly.

"I must say, Mr. Mondrich, I'm quite overjoyed to see what a fine establishment you've built by the sweat of your honest labor. Hear, hear." He said as he rose his glass. They cheered together with happy grins on their faces.

✑

Hope stood outside her window with her white night gown and she watched the moon as it sat in the deep blue sky. Her eyes entranced on the way it complimented the many stars scattered around. She breathed in before she suddenly heard the sound of talking from just outside her room.

She turned her head with a raised eyebrow before she scurried into the hallway and down the stairs. She could see in the ballroom that Eloise, Violet, and Colin were all dressed to attend some ball. And Anthony was not too far from her, looking at them with just as much confusion as she did.

"I was unaware there was a ball this evening." He said, clearly not dressed to attend much of anything. Hope nodded her head slightly. "As was I." She said.

"It is a soirée, rather. Did you not receive your invitation from the Danbury footman?" Violet asked, looking at her eldest son. Anthony suddenly had a look of realization, but also irritation. "The soirée is at the Danbury House. And Miss Sharma likes to accuse me of playing games." He mumbled to himself. Violet hummed with a smirk.

"And me?" Hope asked with a raised eyebrow. Violet looked over at her. "Benedict said you were unwell." She said. Hope scoffed softly.

"I am well, I assure you." She said defensively. Violet hummed, knowing that was a lie. "Well, come if you must, but know that there will be gentleman there performing poetry, I hear. Perhaps they'll chose their words more wisely than you." She said before walking out of the room, with Eloise and Colin at her side.