To Paint With Shadows | Benedict Bridgerton

Two Hearts On Fire

After the events of the day, Sophie found it difficult to sleep; the main nagging thought in her brain being how embarrassed she was during the walk in the garden, not only did she have to face the pity of the Bridgertons, but she had put on a show for the rest of the Ton as well.

That is therefore why she made her way down the stairs and into the library. As she gently opened the door, she peered round it to see a figure sat by the window; Sophie would have been lying if she said she did not know that Benedict would be in there, but would she be lying if she denied that she wished he would be?

She had become so caught up in her thoughts, that she had allowed the door to slam behind her: whilst it caused her to jump in fright, Benedict did not stir.

He had known she was there.

He turned so he was looking at her. 'What a coincidence that we run into each other again, Miss Taylor.' He goaded, as he made his way into the candlelight.

'I have told you it is Sophie.' She responded simply, as she fanned through a book she had found lying on the desk.

'Well, Sophie.' He exaggerated, 'What is it you have come in search for?' An entertaining companion? He continued as he neared her.

'I have told you, you are too dull for that.' She said, somewhat distracted by his now towering presence.

'I thought I was puzzling.' He whispered, as he took the book from her grasp. He was now so close that Sophie swore she could hear the beating of his heart.

Or perhaps that was hers.

'Y...You can be both.' She stuttered, rather put off by the way his eyes followed the movement of her lips.

He grinned, shaking his head as he did. 'I think, I will have to disagree.' He muttered playfully.

Breathe, Sophie, breathe: she told herself. Why was she so worked up? Why did he need to be so close? All the racing thoughts in her mind, caused her dizziness to return.

Benedict must of noticed because he was quick to drop the act.

'Sophie?' He inquired genuinely, hesitantly bringing his hand to her cheek.

Her skin burned like a flame, but his cold touch seemed to alleviate this: Sophie leaned into it, humming in response.

'Come sit by the window, it should help cool you.' He directed her, his voice gentle and caring.

When Sophie did not make an attempt to move, he directed his eyes to the shallow rises and fall of her chest: it became obvious then just how much she was struggling. Securing his hand around her waist, he guided her to the window, not letting her go as he sat her down by it. Whilst the gentle breeze did have some effect, Benedict was only making it worse: his grip on her waist caused her body to scald itself from the inside out.

Sophie did what she could to focus her mind on her recovery, but it was to no avail. In the end, she was left with no choice but to remove Benedict's hand herself, trying to slow her breathing as she did. Benedict did not seem to take any offence to her actions, instead he just watched her, watching her as if she may disappear before him.

When the room, finally stopped spinning, Sophie sighed, relaxing slightly.

'Are you alright?' Benedict asked warily.

Sophie met his gaze, his eyes seemingly full of worry. She needed a moment before she could answer.

'It is nothing, it was just a-' She began.

However, Benedict was quick to interrupt: 'Do not finish that sentence.' He instructed her, rather forcefully. 'This has happened three times now, twice in the library and once today, in the gardens, and they become more severe each time.' He explained.