Warnings: mentions of sex, marriage, I messed with timelines a little bit but it works (I think), dialogue heavy. this ended up being part humour, but part serious talk about gender frustrations. idk. I like it tho. female titles - mrs etc.
----
The Bridgerton family always thrived through the London social season. Their family so established within society that their balls, tea parties, and dinners were always packed with beloved friends and acquaintances.
It was one of the famous Bridgerton balls that you met your husband, Benedict. He had asked you to dance after working up the courage for most of the night, and the moment your hand touched his, he knew he was a goner. For you, it was the moment he pressed his lips to the back of your hand at the end of the dance
Two years later, your place within the family was well established. Violet doting on you as if you were one of her own children, Daphne and Eloise coming to you with questions they could never ask their mother or brothers. They placed a trust in you that you could only hope you lived up to, but all worries were worth it when you got to go home with the love of your life at the end of the day.
----------
The pale blue drawing room is filled with the delicate notes of the pianoforte played skilfully by Daphne. Violet stands by her daughter's side, watching her proudly before moving to the tea table and reaching for the teapot.
You sit on the opposite couch to Benedict, watching with glee as he bickers with Colin over the last buttery biscuit on the nearby plate. Benedict pouts childishly when Colin wrestles it from his fingers, taking a large bite in victory. You smirk at the expression on Benedict's face, highly amused by your husband.
"Are you laughing at your husband's loss, Mrs. Bridgerton?" Benedict asks, his voice teasing as he arches an eyebrow at you.
"Of course not, my love," You answer, "Just at the biscuit's circumstances."
A satisfied smile crosses Benedict's face at the sound of your endearment for him. You would always be his darling; he would always be your love. His smile grows so large that he forgets about his biscuit loss and instead, loses himself to thoughts of his plans for you tonight. He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear Eloise enter the room until she speaks.
"How does a lady come to be with child?" Eloise asks upon entering the pale blue drawing room; her tone demanding, her face worried.
Silence descends upon the drawing room with such speed that it makes your ears pop. Daphne pauses her practice of the pianoforte, her fingers poised over the keys. Colin chokes on the butter biscuit he was eating; the chunks getting stuck in his throat as Gregory rushes over to him with a cup of tepid earl grey tea. Violet almost drops her teacup, her legs going weak at such a question leaving her unmarried daughter's lips. Benedict's eyes find yours; wide with alarm as a shocked expression crosses his face.
It was the last thing anyone in the room was expecting to hear this morning.
"Eloise!" Violet cries, her voice shrill at the unexpected question. "What a question!"
"Apparently," Eloise chortles in disbelief. "One does not need to be married!"
"That is enough, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet exclaims angrily. "Sit down with no more talk of such things."
Eloise blinks at her mother before clamping her lips shut, joining you on the couch across from her brothers. You pat her hand consolingly. Eloise groans as she leans back on the couch, rubbing her forehead with hand. She glares at her elder brothers. "I bet the two of you know," She accuses, her shrewd gaze jumping between her siblings.
"Do not look at me," Benedict pleads, desperate to have any other conversation than the one currently holding the attention of the room.
"Have you ever visited a farm, El?" Colin jokes much to the anger of his mother who admonishes him for broaching improper topics of conversation. You cover your mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to burst free.
Eloise turns her attention to you, ignoring her brothers altogether. "Do you know how a lady comes to be with child?"
Your eyes widen with her forwardness; the burning curiosity alight in her eyes combined with a hint of fear at the unknown. Clearing your throat, you turn to your husband. "Benedict?" You address, "Do you have an answer for your sister?"
"I do not," Benedict answers easily, avoiding the conversation entirely.
"Please (Y/N)," Eloise all but begs.
"I'm sorry, Eloise," You say quietly, dropping your voice to not worry Violet. "This isn't something that is so freely spoken about. This is something you find out when the time is right."
"When is that time? When I'm married?" Eloise demands, crossing her arms as her anger begins to get the better of her. "What use is that if I want to know now? I won't be out until next year, and even then I bet the answer is still wrapped up tight for me not to know."
"I understand your frustrations, Eloise," You whisper, doing your best to comfort the young lady. "You just need a little patience."
Eloise huffs, turning away with indignation at which you frown. You would happily tell her, happily educate her on why marriage was not a necessity to have a child, but it would go against the wishes of your family by marriage, so you keep quiet. Instead, you sigh sadly, upset at the clear frustration written on Eloise's young face.
Benedict can almost feel the hurt rolling off your shoulders as he watches you be dismissed by his younger sister. His heart squeezes at the turn down of your lips and furrow of your brow. He slaps Colin on the knee in parting before standing. "Darling," Benedict murmurs, "Let's leave them in peace for today. We'll come back tomorrow."
Reaching for Benedict's hand, you pat Eloise's shoulder with your free hand. She stiffens but doesn't move. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you more," You murmur, squeezing her shoulder before leaving the room with Benedict in tow.
---------
"What would you have me do?" Benedict sighs exasperatedly, unbuttoning the last three buttons of his loose, white shirt as he readies himself for bed. "Tell Eloise the truth? Mother would have my head."
This conversation had been bubbling all day. The morning spent at Bridgerton House, and the subsequent conversation with Eloise was playing on your mind. It had dimmed your mood every time you thought of the upset on Eloise's face, and how she was shut down by her family.
You fix Benedict with an unimpressed look before ducking behind your dressing screen, ridding yourself of the dress you had worn to dinner. "No, I wouldn't have you do that, but surely you can see the imbalance."
Benedict remains silent, unsure of where the conversation is heading. You sigh, pressing a hand to your forehead and poking your head out from behind the screen. "It's so frustrating, having to wait until days before your wedding before finding out how children are made and what sex is. It's humiliating too. To sit there as your mother stutters through her explanation that isn't really an explanation at all, and you enter a marriage without much knowledge of what to expect other than hope that your husband will have some idea of what to do."
"I haven't thought of it like that."
"You haven't had to, Benedict, but you have to understand Eloise's frustration," You all but plead as you re-enter the room, ready to go to bed with your beloved husband. "I'm not saying explain the whole birds and the bees to her, but there needs to be some form of education that shouldn't have to come down to our mothers with mere hours before a wedding."
"It can't be mere hours," Benedict argues.
With a hand on your hip, you arch an eyebrow at your husband in challenge. "My mother explained sex to me two hours before I married you. Luckily, I had already bribed a maid in the house to explain it to me a year before, so I knew what I was expecting. I don't know whether Eloise will think of such a thing."
"Two hours?" Benedict gasps, reaching for you.
You nod, going to him willingly. "Two hours. She didn't know how to broach the subject which is what I'm worried about. That's why something needs to be done. I just hope in future generations that such a talk will be approached with much more knowledge and comfort."
"Alright," Benedict concedes after a moment of reflection. "I see how Eloise could be frustrated, but there isn't anything I can do. It is Mother's decision as to when she tells Eloise, not ours despite what we may think."
"I know, but I'm glad you've listened. Thank you for that," You whisper, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Benedict's unshaved cheek.
"Now," Benedict murmurs, ducking to press a light kiss to your neck. "Can we go to bed?"
A light chuckle leaves your lips as you revel in the way your husband seems to find that sweet spot on your neck every single time. "Lead the way."