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𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫.
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"Miss Woodbury!" A voice bellowed from the outside of her room accompanied by the sound of the collision of the perpetrator's knuckles on the bedroom door. "Miss Woodbury!"
The governess grumbled as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She was still tucked in bed which was surprising considering that she was a morning person. Augusta was sure she hadn't scheduled any lessons with the children today.
Half-heartedly, Augusta rolled over and willed her body to get out of bed and stumble towards her bedroom door. The door was barely open as Eloise stomped in with a demeanor that showed she was in the middle of a dilemma. As the second Bridgerton daughter paced around the room, Augusta sat on her bed and simply watched until Eloise turned to her with wide eyes.
"How does a woman come to be with child?" Eloise inquired as she stopped in front of her governess.
"Hm." Augusta hummed, "Good morning to you too, Eloise." Nonchalantly, she stretched her arms up in the air, a yawn escaping her mouth. "What on Earth made you ask that question? Who is with child?"
". . .A maid." She answered and bit her lip. "I just knew that one does not need to even be married to have a child!"
Augusta tried to school her expression into staying neutral. She had learned a lot of lessons by simply growing up in a farm (though she was unsure whether the Viscountess wanted to hear that she was giving her daughters a lesson about how children were brought into the world). It took all her strength not to lay it all out how everything came to be.
"Out of all the people, Eloise, why would you ask me? Why not your mama?"
"Mama would not tell me." She sat down next to the governess. "And Benedict told me to ask you."
Shaking her head, Augusta rolled her eyes. "You must not listen to everything your brother tells you to do."
"I think he just wants you to get out of bed so he will have someone else to annoy."
"Well, he certainly has succeeded."
Augusta stood up from the bed and gravitated towards her pile of clothes to mix and match for the day. The Viscountess Bridgerton had invited her for a promenade but Augusta had declined as she had plans with Siena and Genevieve.
Sighing, Augusta gathered her unruly hair into it's standard bun and picked out a one of her long, plain, grey skirts and a white buttoned blouse. She could still feel Eloise's curious gaze. When she turned to face the second Bridgerton daughter, the lady had her hands placed behind her back in a child-like manner.
"Eloise." Augusta started. "I cannot tell you how a woman comes to be with child ─ "
" ─ But you know?"
" ─ No. I do not."
"But, Benedict ─ "
" ─ Is mistaken as usual." Augusta walked towards her and met Eloise's gaze. "Tell me, Eloise. Are you scared of bearing children?"
Eloise shrugged. "I am, Miss Woodbury."
The governess nodded. "I understand."
"You do?"
She was met with a sympathetic nod.
"But, I do not despise children, Miss Woodbury. I just think that I would be an unfit mother or wife. I would like to be like you ─ a governess who nurtures her mind. I want to fly!"
"Oh, you do not want to end up like me, dear." She told her and Augusta meant it. Who would want to end up like like her ─ a teacher who survived based on her salary with unfulfilled dreams?
"That is what Mrs. Featherington said the other day."
Augusta smirked. "She is a smart lady."
Eloise snorted and joked. "It is not lady-like to tell lies, Miss Woodbury."
"Very well."
As she was making her way towards the bathroom, Augusta took one last long look at Eloise. She sighed ─ surely it was important for a young lady to know how babies came to be. It was going to be her body that would be nursing it for months anyhow!
"Miss Bridgerton." She started and was met with big, curious Bambi eyes. "A woman comes to be with child through love."
Eloise gaped, looking at her governess incredulously. "Love?!"
Augusta shrugged nonchalantly. "At times."
"At times?!
"Will you be parroting every word I say?"
"Miss Woodbury, what other reason could there be?"
"You will know soon, Eloise."
"Not soon enough!"
"I have to bathe now. Has today's newsletter arrived yet?"
"I left it on the dinner table."
Augusta smiled to herself, excitement bubbling up at the thought of her first short story being features for thousands to read. "Excellent."
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It was the complete opposite of the day before: Augusta Woodbury sulked her way to the modiste, dragging her feet through the streets at the dead of night. Her two friends sighed in relief once they say that it was just the governess entering through the back entrance to which she had just chuckled at ─ a first sign of joy on Augusta's features for today.
"Bloody hell, Augusta!" Genevieve exclaimed as she lowered the pair of scissors. "You half scared us out of our wits!"
"Sorry." Augusta uttered as she plopped her body down on the couch, dejected at today's events.
At the sight of this, Siena and Genevieve immediately flanked to her side with the modiste grabbing two wine glasses and a bottle of whiskey and the opera singer tenderly taking Augusta's hand in hers. They knew what had happened; they had been waiting the whole day until their friend would show up like a blubbering mess with tears streaming down her face. But, no. Siena and Genevieve knew better. They knew that Augusta was not a big crier.
"We saw the newsletter." Siena said, shedding her fraud of a French accent. "Your words would have made a better story, Augusta."
Augusta groaned. "I know! Mr. Bamber told me so!"
"Who's Mr. Bamber?"
"The daft publisher at the daft newsletter office who promised me I was getting published!"
Siena sipped from her glass. "Men often make promises they cannot commit to."
Augusta stood up from the couch, hands on her hips and looked at the two defiantly. "Maybe that is the problem. We need to stop putting men in these positions of power because ─ honestly ─ what do they do?"
"We have a queen. She's in power."
"And Lady Whistledown."
Augusta pointed a finger to Genevieve. "Her. She is a problem too. My story was swapped for some article about a bumbling Lord Bebrooke! How can that be more important than my piece about our soldiers fighting in the war?!"
"Augusta ─ "
"Who is this Lady Whistledown anyway and why do her words matter so much to these pretentious mamas and ladies?!"
"You're making my whole shop shake with your clamorous voice!"
"Good!" Augusta bellowed and looked up at the ceiling as if to curse the sky. She then said with her whole chest. "Then maybe someone would listen to me!"
Giggling, Siena took her hands and brought the fuming lady back to sit on the couch. As she sat, Augusta immediately frowned, crossing her arms. Siena patted her hair and Genevieve (who shook her head) kept shoving a glass full of wine towards her face.
"Our dear Augusta." Siena mused. "I shall applaud the man who marries you for you are quite a spitfire. Not to mention that loud mouth of yours."
Genevieve rolled her eyes. "Her loud mouth that's going to get us in trouble someday."
Scoffing, Augusta countered. "Oh, Heaven forbid if the Ton find out that I have befriended a talented modiste and the most dazzling opera singer of all of London."
"Both of you are welcome here but keep it down or else you'll scare all the customers away."
"Do not worry, Gen. I shall find another an arrangement with another gentleman soon enough."
"Hopefully someone less of an ass than your last." Simultaneously, Augusta and Siena threw her a pointed look. "I know." She said. "We shall not think of him."
Siena nudged the governess. "How is he anyway?"
Augusta shook her head. "I am not telling you, Si. If I tell you, then I become the messenger. Everyone knows it's the messenger that gets shot."
Sighing, Siena stood up and ran her hands over a pink cloth. "Very well."
The night was spent with the three ladies giggling over Cressida's Cowper sneer.
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"Well, what do we have here?"
He knew that voice. He'd heard it a dozen times over the last year ─ in his sisters' schoolroom, in the garden with Eloise, all around the house when she was scolding him for his antics. He'd hear the voice in his dreams too.
Benedict spun around in his chair to find Augusta in her night dress with a thick dressing gown over her shoulders to keep her warm, her long hair freely falling down her back. He wished it were his arms that kept her warm.
"You're the one intruding the boys' schoolroom." He pointed out. "I should ask you that question."
Rolling her eyes, Augusta waved the book in her hand. "I came to return this."
"Ah."
Silently, she walked across the schoolroom with the book tucked towards her chest and placed it delicately where she had grabbed it the other night. She never once looked back at him. He was glad; at least she wouldn't see how his eyes seemed to follow her every move. But, in some way, Benedict wished ─ by some sick twist of fate ─ she would catch him looking at her with the gaze that told the whole world that she had hung the moon and he wasn't anything other than a lovestruck fool.
"Goodnight."
"Aggie ─ "
Augusta interrupted him. "Mister Bridgerton." Her eyes were narrowed as if daring him to use the godforsaken nickname again. Usually, she would let it slide but this must be her sleep deprivation he was seeing.
(God, he hated it when she called him that. He wondered how his name would roll off her lips.)
"Why hadn't you revealed to Eloise about how a woman comes to be with child?"
She blinked owlishly at him, wringing her hands behind her back. "I did not think it was my place to tell her."
"Do you underestimate Eloise's intelligence?"
"Pardon?"
Benedict shrugged. "Just a thought."
"It's a dull-witted one." She swallowed thickly. "I apologize."
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why do you apologize?"
"Because ─ "
" ─ I failed to see you at the promenade today." He had changed the subject quickly after seeing how irritated she had become; the governess was tremendously protective of Eloise.
"Why are you asking?"
Benedict shook his head. "It wasn't a question ─ "
" ─ Did you miss me?" Smirking, Augusta crossed her arms.
Now that was a question.
"Immensely." He threw her a smirk to hide the fact that he wasn't joking at all. He terribly missed her presence and spitfire mouth. After seeing the tired and exasperated expression splayed on her face (one that Benedict was certain he wasn't the cause of), he furrowed his brows and asked softly. "Aggie, is everything alright?"
"Yes." Augusta answered immediately. "Everything is fine ─ absolutely perfectly fine."
He caught the taut tone of her voice. "Are you lying?"
She shook her head. "I would never."
"Liar."
Augusta shot him a small and close-mouthed smile ─ Benedict vowed he could feel his heart soar at the trivial action ─ and bowed her head. "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton."
Before he could answer, the door had already closed and she was gone. Turning back to the sketchbook on his lap, Benedict took one last swing of his whiskey and proceeded to draw a girl with the most curious gray eyes glaring back at him. He was suddenly full of inspiration.
─ see that beautiful gif above??!!! it's made by paralluman so go show her some love because she has TALENT <3333
♡ 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟭𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝘀! 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹. ♡