Racing back into their Mayfair home, the girls barged into the informal drawing room where their mother was busy painting with some watercolors. Margaret, surprised by the sudden intrusion, greeted her daughters warmly as they walked into the room. Lucy noticed Henry sitting in a corner as well, reading peacefully.
"The Bridgertons have invited us to dinner, Mother- may we go?" Eleanor asked eagerly. Henry looked up and laughed at the excitement of their youngest sibling.
"Of course, darling. I think I will remain here, though. I was going to retire early tonight- as was your father." She replied with a soft smile.
"Yes, we expected so," Lucy spoke.
"Well, we should be getting ready. Our first dinner back!" Eleanor said excitedly.
She dragged her sister out of the drawing room and up the grand staircase leading to the upstairs rooms. The two of them went into their respective rooms, then called in their maids to help them prepare for the night. Lucy's hair was the first task to be undertaken- the previous neat coiffure was completely demolished after the events of the day- traveling for hours on end, the visit to the modiste, and the excursion in the park. It was returned to its elegant and tidy appearance and made more fancy with the addition of hairpins on one side, which were glistening with French diamonds. The dress her lady's maid picked out for her was a pale pink with a white trim around the bust, and flowers in the same shade running all the way down.
After she donned her gloves and bonnet, as well as some last minute pieces of demure jewelry- a pair of simple diamond earrings and a matching necklace that trickled down her neck like rainfall in a V shape- Lucy met her younger sister in the foyer of the house, ready to leave. Eleanor was wearing a baby blue dress, with silk gloves to match, and decided to neglect any jewelry. It was a simple ensemble, yet it was perfect- symbolic of her virtue. Eleanor was waiting with henry, who changed into his evening wear. The three of them shared some lop sided grins and excited chatter before they set off for the night, eager to taste that delicious and esteemed Bridgerton cuisine and engage with the friends that they hadn't seen in so long.
Lucy, Eleanor, and Henry stepped into the Bridgerton house and were quickly greeted by a swarm of joyful Bridgerton siblings. Francesca and Hyacinth were arguably the most excited to see them, as they immediately began asking them questions about their activities in the countryside, while also praising the Blackthorne sisters on their impeccably styled hair and beautifully crafted dresses. Anthony eventually pushed his way through his younger siblings with his wife Kate, who was dressed in a dark purple frock that made her glow, and introduced her to the three of them. Colin then appeared, greeting the girls before making his way to his best friend Henry. Lucy couldn't help but notice that there was one face that was missing, though. Benedict. She wondered where he was, and when she would get to see him. Gregory was even here, running circles around the group. Would Benedict be coming to dinner or did he decide not to join them tonight? No, he must be joining them. It was his idea for the three of them to join his family that evening, after all. She would have to wait and see, though she was growing impatient by the second for some reason.
Breaking her out of her slight daydream, a high-pitched voice rang across the room, screaming Lucy's name. The girl ran across the room and engulfed her friend in the tightest embrace she had ever experienced in her life.
"Daphne, you're killing me," Lucy spoke, her voice strained.
Her friend let go of her and laughed.
"Sorry, Luce- I'm so happy to see you again, it's been far too long," She replied.
"Come on, let's go in for dinner- mama's waiting for us, she's so excited to see all of you!" she added.
As the evening went on, the dining room filled with laughter and chatter between the two families. The Bridgertons talked about the latest news of the Ton, while the Blackthornes illustrated what had become of their lives in the year they spent in the country. Benedict, unfortunately, was nowhere to be seen throughout the night. Lucy was debating for much of the evening on whether she should say something or not, then she finally decided to speak.
"Forgive the interruption, but I was wondering where Benedict was?" she asked Violet, careful to pose the question in a manner that seemed neutral and not full of... desperation?
"Oh, he's probably off painting somewhere. He loses track of time when he does." She replied with a soft smile.
"He usually doesn't like to be distracted when he's been struck with inspiration" she added.
"I had no idea that he was an artist, how intriguing" Lucy replied.
"I'm certain he would be happy to show you his work. Don't tell him I told you this, but I know he gets rather shy about showing people his art. But I'm sure he wouldn't mind showing you if you were truly interested" Violet said in a hushed tone.
"That would be lovely. I am an admirer of art, although I am rarely one to take to the canvas myself" Lucy replied and laughed.
"I can't seem to paint anything that doesn't resemble a flat circle or square" she added as she and Violet shared a giggle.
The prospect of spending quality time with Benedict, discussing art, seemed like a dream. It also provided her with the opportunity to discover why she was suddenly feeling so strange in regard to him. Lucy was never much of an art fanatic, but over the past year it has piqued her interest, and now knowing that Benedict was an artist himself she had found the perfect excuse to spend more time with him. The only issue was that he was nowhere to be seen. Another issue that might be posed would be the fact that he might not want to speak about art with her, or even show her his work. Why would he, she was nothing special to him as far as she knew, after all. And if he rarely showed his own family most of his work, why would Lucy be any different? She tried to put the thought of him aside and enjoy the rest of her dinner. This was something future Lucy could deal with. After the two families finished their desserts and headed into the drawing room to continue their conversations, Lucy headed to the library in search of a book that Anthony said she could borrow.
She walked down the dimly lit halls and trailed her finger along the firm wall for about five minutes when she finally reached the room she was in search of. Cracking the door open a couple of inches first, to make sure that no one was inside, she then headed in. It was even darker than it was in the halls, so she fumbled around a nearby desk in hopes of finding a candle. She found one and then lit it, breathing a sigh of relief. She held it up and moved it around the area of books Anthony had told her to look in and she spotted the one she had been searching for. Just when she reached her hand up, standing on her tiptoes, a voice echoed across the room and startled her.
"Need any help with that?" A male voice asked. There was humor and a slight tone of sarcasm in his voice, and it was incredibly familiar. Lucy's chest fluttered, to her surprise, and she turned around to face the man. It was him. Benedict. Standing in the door frame, dim candlelight illuminating the contours of his perfect and clearly defined face. She dropped the candle lower, unknowingly highlighting her chest. She only noticed when his eyes flickered to the area for a second, before returning to meet her gaze. She felt heat rise in her cheeks, and was thankful that it was too dark for him to notice.
"Benedict! You shouldn't sneak up on someone like that" Lucy said.
"I have a habit of doing things I'm not supposed to" he replied.
It was a simple statement, but he said it in a way that sounded as though it had many meanings to it, perhaps some unspeakable ones. Lucy was twenty-one, and had many female cousins who were married and happy to give her some details regarding what married life was like, but she couldn't help but think that they had left a major part of their tales out. They had the same tone while talking about it as Benedict had when he made that statement, and it made her slightly flustered. He smirked faintly, before stepping into the room and approaching her. He then proceeded to reach for the book she wanted with ease and handed it to her. She couldn't help but notice his height- she had to crane her neck upwards completely if she wanted to make eye contact with him.
"It's a good book. read it in one sitting. Hard to put down" He said nonchalantly, a smirk still present on his face. It was vaguely patronizing, in a way- the way he constantly smiled like an all-knowing god.
"Then I shall let you know how I fare with it" Lucy replied, returning his smile.
"I too shall let you know if we need help getting any books from the bottom shelf" he joked, and Lucy laughed while lightly swatting his shoulder with the book in her hand.
"I thought we were done joking about my height, Benedict. Besides, I may be short but my personality overcompensates for that" Lucy replied.
"Among other things" he responded. His eyes flickered downwards, quickly over her body then onto the floor. If she wasn't watching him intently, she would have missed it. There it was, that scandalous inflection in his voice- again.
"What do you mean by that?" Lucy asked, feeling her cheeks burning slightly more. He cleared his throat.
"Only that it is not just your personality that overcompensates for your lack of height." He replied in a more serious tone, still with a hint of humor in his voice. To avoid further embarrassment, she changed the topic. She realized that they were standing dangerously close, and while they were safe to be alone in a room in the Bridgertons household as they could trust everyone that was present, that didn't mean they could completely disobey the moral standards of society.
"We should leave, it is improper for us to be alone for so long in a room together unchaperoned" Lucy stated.
"God, Luce, we're practically family- no one would bat an eyelid if they walked in" Benedict replied.
His stance was one of hesitance, Lucy noted as he stood opposite her. His use of her nickname made her feel warm, even though it was one that many people close to her used anyway. When he said it, it was different. He never used to call her by her nickname, so why did he decide to do it at that moment?
"We're not children anymore, Benedict. We don't know what people would think" Lucy replied, pushing aside her overwhelming feelings for a moment to allow herself a proper train of thought.
"After you," Benedict said and motioned with his hand to the door, bowing ever so slightly. Lucy nodded and headed for the hallway, with Benedict on her heels.
"Your mother mentioned you were somewhat of an artist" Lucy began, trying to diffuse the tension that had arisen between them. She smiled at him as they made their way down the hallway.
"She did, did she? I don't know if I would call myself that just yet. I like art, but I have much to learn" He replied humbly.
"Well I would be most interested to see your work" Lucy responded.
"Really? Oh, well- alright, I suppose" He obliged. He seemed hesitant and nervous when he offered her his last response.
"Unless... you would rather not show me" Lucy added, making a statement sound like a question. She didn't want him to feel pressured to do anything he didn't want to do. Art is very personal, it is like a diary for some people, and Lucy knew that.
"No, no, I would very much like to. I just wasn't expecting you to be interested enough to want to see them. No one else ever seems to be" he replied.
"The next time you visit I shall have them prepared to show you" he added. Lucy smiled at him once more and he smiled back.
They made it to the drawing room and sat idly for about forty-five minutes, making small conversation with everyone else, before Lucy and her siblings decided it was late enough and headed back to Blackthorne Hall. As they approached the front door of the Bridgerton's house, she heard her name being called. It was Benedict.
"You left your fan in the drawing room," he said as he held it out to her and smiled. Lucy turned her head back to the door for a split second and observed everyone saying their goodbyes, oblivious to the two of them. She reached out and took the fan from Benedict, their fingertips brushing together slightly. It was a simple and common occurrence, nothing improper, but it gave her a rush. She was overcome with the thought of what his hand would feel like fitted in with hers, intertwined. It was a brief moment, but both of their hands lingered in place for longer than necessary, before they eventually pulled away. They said their goodbyes, and then Lucy and her siblings were off into the darkness of the city, with the thought of Benedict's words and brief touch embedded into her mind.