TW: domestic ab*se
The next day Lucy woke up feeling more alive than she ever had in her life. The first person she thought about when she woke up was Benedict, and how she longed to see him once again that day if she could. She thought of the previous day, and how his appearance in the park changed something in her, then how she felt whenever he didn't show up to dinner, and their meeting in the library followed by the minimal contact they shared. Curiosity and perhaps desire overcame her, but she didn't know what desire, in its essence, truly was. Did she long for friendship? Or romance? What does romance itself entail, anyway? Those were the questions she wanted so desperately to be answered. There was a knock on the door, distracting her from the thought of Benedict, and her lady's maid entered the room. Hopping out of bed, she went straight to her dressing table, ready to prepare for the day.
"You're in high spirits today, my Lady," She said.
"Oh, I'm just delighted to be back, Jane" Lucy replied.
"Well, let's get you dressed and ready so that you may make the most of your time here," Jane replied happily.
"Yes, I do not want to waste a single day," Lucy replied.
She was dressed in a light green frock with subtle golden embellishments, making the color in her cheeks pop and her skin glow. Her matching silk gloves slid up her soft arms with ease, and then she finished the outfit off with a bracelet along with a matching golden necklace that her mother had passed on to her. The precious stones in it slid downwards across her skin, like an enchanting waterfall around her neck, much like the necklace she had worn the previous night. That specific style of necklace was the most flattering on her, she had to admit. Once she was ready to face the day, she headed downstairs to join her family for some light breakfast. As she entered the dining room, she noticed that everyone was there except for her father who was nowhere to be seen or heard. She greeted her mother and siblings good morning and slid into her designated seat next to Henry, almost immediately beginning to ravage the plate of fruits in front of her.
"Where is he?" Lucy whispered to her older brother.
"God Knows," he replied in an unamused tone. Lucy craned her neck and looked into her brother's eyes, prodding him to go on.
"He didn't return from the gentleman's club until well into the early hours of the morning," he added, matter of fact.
Lucy could sense that her brother was agitated, and for good reason. In the recent months their father had taken up drinking as a hobby, or perhaps a sport, and he was not exactly the nicest person when he was drunk. Lucy was suddenly transported in her mind back to a night just two months ago when their father returned from one of his many nights out and got into an argument with Henry. They were so loud that they woke Lucy and Eleanor up from their peaceful slumbers. The two sisters decided to venture downstairs quietly to see what all of the commotion was about, and when they peeked through a door that was left half open, they witnessed their father striking Henry right across the face. Blood began pouring from his nose as he cupped it, and then sat on the cold ground in slight shock. Their father simply turned his back and glided his way through the French doors that led to the gardens, making sure to knock over whatever was in his path. Eleanor was at a loss for words, and she heard her sister whisper-shout something into her ear repeatedly, but it took her a moment before she actually heard the words that were being spoken to her.
"Go back to bed, Ellie. It's okay, I will take care of it. Go back to sleep." Lucy said as she embraced her little sister. Eleanor nodded profusely and turned on her heels, swiftly heading back upstairs. Lucy headed towards her brother, who was sitting with his back against a sofa, and kneeled in front of him.
"You should go back upstairs with Ellie, Luce. You wouldn't want him to see you." Henry said.
"What do you mean? Oh, dear god, Henry- why did he do this?" Lucy said. She was still in shock. Her father had certainly become more angry since their mother had become ill but he had never laid a hand on anyone, as far as she knew.
"It's not the first time, Lucy. Please, just go upstairs before he does the same to you. And he will if he sees you." Henry pleaded.
She sat there for a couple of seconds, staring at her brother in disbelief. He had a distant but pained look on his face, and pinched his nose at the bridge in an attempt to make the blood stop pouring out.
Sitting in the dining room that morning, she saw that same look on his face but more mild. She decided not to press him on the issue, as it would probably only upset or annoy him. Instead, she casually mentioned that she was heading over to the Bridgerton's house at around luncheon to spend some much-needed quality time with the friends she hadn't seen in the past year. Yes, it was a slight embellishment of the truth, but she couldn't very well tell her family that she was going over simply to awe at a certain Bridgerton brother. Awe? No, she wasn't going to awe at him. Where did that come from? She was simply going over to admire and talk about his artwork, since he practically invited her to do so.
Breakfast was followed by a stroll in the gardens, admiring the season's new blooms, a lemonade at the sitting area outside with her sister, and then a quick practice at the pianoforte. Lucy realized that she filled her morning with activities to make time fly by faster so that she could finally make her way over to the Bridgerton's house. When the clock finally struck an acceptable hour to pay a luncheon visit, she eagerly made her way out of Blackthorne Hall with her Lady's maid Jane and strolled over to her neighbors. Before she could even bring her hand up to knock on the door, it opened wide revealing the Bridgerton's butler.
"My Lady," he said as he moved aside to let her in.
"It's lovely to see you again" Lucy replied.
"I should say the same to you, My Lady" He responded.
"I'm afraid the house is empty today, except for Mr. Bridgerton" he added.
"Oh. By Mr. Bridgerton... you mean?" Lucy asked, hopeful.
"Mr. Benedict Bridgerton" he replied.
"Ah. Well, I would not mind waiting in the drawing room for the girls. You should let Mr. Bridgerton know of my arrival, though. I wouldn't want to impose." Lucy said.
"Of course My Lady. I shall return with refreshments." He said as he showed her to the drawing room and left her to her own devices.
The room was a beautiful and calming shade of blue, and the young Blackthorne found a seat and made herself comfortable near a window with a view of the street lined with large cherry blossom trees. The butler returned shortly after with tea and biscuits, as well as some pastries- it seemed enough for five people let alone one.
After about fifteen minutes of sipping her tea and eating a few of the jam-filled treats, Lucy heard someone shuffling in the hall outside the drawing room. She also heard a frantic scramble of what sounded like papers, before the door opened to reveal Benedict. He seemed as though he was disheveled, internally and externally, but was trying to hold it together for the sake of propriety.
"My Lady," he said, greeting her with a short bow and a slightly too wide smile.
"Mr. Bridgerton," Lucy replied, reciprocating the grin. His cheeks were flushed a light pink color, she noticed, like he was having a busier morning than usual. His hair was also slightly messy and his shirt was not done up properly, which was an altogether rather endearing sight. Lucy found that she disliked men who were always formal and proper, even while they were in their own homes. Yes, Benedict was always like this but at that moment in time, it was far more charming. He approached her and they both sat down.
"Forgive me but this is quite strange for me, Lucy. I have never really shown anyone my work." He said as he ran his hand through his hair without thought. It seemed as though it may be a nervous habit of his, messing up his hair.
"You do not have to show me anything if you do not want to, Benedict, I'm just here for the company- to catch up," Lucy replied.
"No, I do. I just... hope you like them, is all." He said in response.
"I am quite sure I will," Lucy answered with a soft smile. With that, he nodded and placed his work on the table nearest to Lucy, free for her to go through at her own will, and stepped back. She leaned forward and carefully examined each piece that he laid out for her to see. Lucy was even more stunned than she expected herself to be. The paintings he had brought were mainly landscapes, and they were as breathtaking as could be. The neutral tones along with the light greens and blues blended beautifully, with the perfect mixture of impressionism and romanticism. The portraits, on the other hand, were quite possibly the most beautiful ones she had ever seen in her life. Although they were unfinished, that's what made them alluring- the undivulged sense of what is and what could be. The rough work of charcoal against the pages, highlighting the features of the people he had drawn, provided an atmosphere of darkness and intrigue.
"These are incredible, Benedict. I truly have no words to describe how they make me feel." Lucy stated.
"I think those words perhaps describe how you feel anyway." He replied with a grin.
"I suppose they do," she responded, smiling.
"Why have you not done any more portraits? You are so well at capturing the likeness of people" Lucy asked.
"I do not know. I presume it is because I lack inspiration on that front." He replied nonchalantly.
"However, I do quite like this one," He began. In a swift motion, he stood up from his seat across from Lucy and sat next to her. Then, he rummaged through the pile and pulled out a portrait of Daphne.
"She sat for hours while I practiced. She really did not have to do that but she did anyway out of kindness. It's the best one I've done." He said as he enthusiastically showed her the drawing. Only then did he realize how close the two of them were, and he appeared to instantly regret not taking more notice of his movements, especially in the presence of a lady. The pair locked eyes for a brief moment, and Lucy felt that familiar flutter in her chest, although this time it was going at an even faster speed. All of a sudden they were both extremely aware of the speed and sound of each other's breathing, as it was the only sound that filled the room. That is, until Benedict broke the silence.
"Lucy," he said, softly and quietly.
"Yes?" She replied, in a daze.
A couple of seconds later, the magical moment was over when Benedict snapped back to reality and broke eye contact. He stood up once more while clearing his throat, and sat back down in his seat across from her.
"I'm pleased you like them" he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Of course I do. You could practice with me, you know," She replied sweetly, trying to forget the little moment they had just shared.
"Wha-oh, you mean, you would sit for a portrait?" He asked, his cheeks still a pink shade.
"Yes, if you ever need to work on those skills, I would be happy to help," Lucy responded. He thanked her and shot her another one of his smiles.
"I should probably be leaving, though. I am supposed to meet a friend at my gentlemen's club in a short while. I shall see you soon, My Lady" he said and waited for her to stand, so he could do the same. He gathered his belongings that they had been looking through together and folded them underneath his arm. With a quick bow and goodbye, he was out the door and Lucy was left alone in the Bridgerton's drawing room, completely baffled as to what had just occurred between the two of them. She couldn't help but think that she had done or said something to offend him, judging by his rather abrupt exit. She thought they would be able to spend more time together- thought that he would keep her company until his sisters returned home. It was what she was looking forward to. Although the brief moment was sweet, she was once again left wanting more. She wanted more, but did not know what exactly it was that she wanted from the boy.