The days blended together as Benedict was forced to suffer through the same routine with each moment that passed. He would wake, and for a second, everything was fine. Inevitably, the cruel reality would come crashing down like a ton of bricks on his heart as he remembered. He got ready for the day, helped to get the children ready and downstairs for breakfast. He would check in on his mother, who lie in bed staring out the window, an empty and hollow shell of a woman.
He would talk to her for a few moments to keep her updated on Daphne's piano lessons, or Colin's learning to tie a tie. It broke his heart to see her this way, but he continued to try and make her smile, to no avail. He would entertain the children while Anthony remained locked in their father's study, working away at the funeral arrangements and the late viscount's finances. He would sit through family dinner, keeping a smile plastered on his face while his insides were crumbling.
Finally, he would retreat to his room, attempting to paint for a few hours. No painting seemed good enough to him, no shade of color adequate, no brush stroke sufficient. Nothing felt right anymore. He would inevitably cede in frustration, knocking his paints to the floor or chucking his canvas at the wall. He would cry, he had never cried this much in his fifteen years of life. Finally, he would sleep.
He relished the hours during which he was able to sleep, to escape to a world where everything was perfectly okay, where his father would greet him with a kind smile. Tonight, just as he was dozing off, he heard a tapping on his window. He groaned softly and stood, going to the source of the noise.
Opening the window, he looked down to see Madeleine with a handful of pebbles, ready to throw another before she saw his face appear in the frame. She gestured for him to come down and he shook his head solemnly, closing the window and retreating back to his bed.
Madeleine Sinclair, however, was too stubborn of a girl to give up so easily. So, she sighed and hiked up her dress. And as she had done only once before, she climbed the trellis to her friend's bedroom window. She tapped on the window again, pressing her face against it to see inside.
Benedict did not move, staring at the ceiling as he lay in bed. Madeleine rolled her eyes and began to knock louder, forcing Benedict to stand and let her in so she didn't wake anybody else.
Once inside, she immediately pulled her friend into a tight embrace. Benedict stiffened for a moment, before relaxing into her arms. Her eyes welled up with tears as she heard him begin to cry.
"There, there. It's all right, I'm here now. Come." She guided him over to the bed, the two sitting down as she continued to hold him while he cried. It was a heartbreaking sight, her friend in such pain while she felt helpless to do anything. All she could do was be there for him, as he had been there for everyone else the last few days.
After a while, Benedict took a deep breath and sat up, looking at his dearest friend. She gave him a sad smile, reaching up to wipe his tears with her gentle fingers. She held his face in her hands, stroking his cheek with her thumb.
"Oh, my dear Benny, I am so sorry. I don't know what else to say, other than that I am sorry. How can I help?"
Benedict placed his hand over hers, unable to muster up a smile this time, but his eyes spoke for him. He pulled her into another hug.
"Your being here is enough help, Madeleine. I can't tell you how difficult it has been to keep up this charade for the children." He muttered into her hair, resting his head atop hers.
The next day, and for the days that followed, Madeleine came to the Bridgerton house bright and early. She insisted on entertaining the children, allowing Benedict the time to sit with his mother.
One morning, he sat in the chair next to her bed, as usual, and watched her for a moment.
"Mother, I am afraid I feel selfish to say that I miss you dearly. We all do. I can't imagine the pain you are going through, but I know it must be more than what any of us feel." She gave him no response, staring blankly out the window.
"I brought you some breakfast." He took the plate from the table next to him, gesturing toward it. She did not move, and he sighed.
"Mother, I know this is difficult, but you must think of the little one." He smiled softly. "You have not eaten for days, and I'm sure the baby is hungry as well."
This got her attention, and she looked at him as though she just noticed he was sitting there. Gently, he helped her to sit up and gave her an encouraging smile. He was happy to see she was finally eating, and for a moment, he had hope that things might start to get better. When she finished, she retreated back to her lying position, and her gaze returned to the window. He gently brushed her hair out of her face, kissing her temple.
"I love you, Mother. I will be back to see you later." Benedict stood, taking the empty plate with him. He had only made it to the end of the hallway when he heard his mother cry out in pain. He dropped the plate, rushing back to her room and seeing her sitting up, clutching her stomach.
He shouted for the maid, the doctor, anybody, to come help. Anthony came rushing out of his office to his brother's cries and immediately went back in to grab the phone and call for the doctor. His mother's ladies had entered the room, helping her to lay back and get comfortable as she cried out in pain. Benedict couldn't move from his position in the doorway, the overwhelming fear debilitating him, just as it had when he saw his father laying in the garden. The doctor rushed past him when he arrived, nurses following, before the door was slammed in his face. He slid down to the floor, leaning his elbows on his knees and listening to his mothers cries inside the room. It had begun to storm outside, and he could Madeleine softly singing to the children to soothe them, and hopefully distract them from their mother's current state.
One of the men from earlier burst out of the room as Anthony paced back and forth, stopping when he saw the man.
"My lord, you must come in. It is imperative." Anthony looked from the man to Benedict, a panicked look in his eyes. Violet screamed out in the background and Anthony nodded, following the man inside. Benedict could hear the doctor ordering his mother to lay back down and she refused, arguing that this was not normal.
"The baby is not in position. It is turned the wrong way. I need to know what you'd like us to do." Anthony stuttered in response, unsure of how to react. The doctor continued.
"I will do my best, but there may need to be a choice made. Who would your lordship prefer?" Benedict raised his head at the sound of this, refusing to believe that the doctor was asking what he thought he was.
Violet protested, insisting that the doctor speak to her, that Anthony was a child and could not make this decision. Her cries were ignored, as the doctor insisted that his lordship make the decision.
"His lordship is a child! He is my child, he was born in this very room, from this very body. It is no matter to him." It pained Benedict to hear his mother this way, in such pain that she could barely get words out. The doctor attempted to move the conversation to the hall but his mother called out.
"No, Anthony do not leave this room." His mother ordered, and Anthony kneeled beside her, telling her that he will go to find out what the doctor is asking and she must lie down.
"He is asking you to decide which one of us should live, me, or the baby. You kill the baby, you save the mother. You cut the mother, you save the child. It is not your choice to make. It is mine."
"It is his lordships choice." The doctor interrupted.
"Edmund is his lordship!" Violet shouted, crying out in pain once again. "The choice is Edmunds, it can only be Edmunds because he loved me. He loved me so much, this wouldn't even be a conversation. Because that kind of love.. the answer, this choice, is obvious." She sobbed through her pain, screaming, "Edmund should be here!"
Benedict couldn't bear to listen to this anymore, standing and storming away from the room as tears fell down his cheeks. He needed to get out, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't bear the thought of losing his mother now too. He turned the corner and ran into Madeleine, who had a plate of treats in her hand, presumably to bring the children. Once she saw his face, she set the plate down and grabbed his hands.
"Benedict, what is it? What's happened?"
Benedict gasped for air, feeling as though his lungs were collapsing inside of him. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst right out of his chest. He felt Madeleine's warm hands move to cup his cheeks, and he placed his hands over hers, trying to calm himself. Anthony stormed past the two and Benedict couldn't bear to think of what decision had been made.
Madeleine guided him to a bench in the hallway, holding both of his hands in hers once again. Benedict attempted to explain what he had heard but all that came out were mutters and parts of words muffled by sobs.
"Benedict, you must breathe. I can't understand you in this state. Come on then, breathe with me." She counted each one, encouraging him to match her breath like you would a child. Benedict sighed as he felt his breath return to him, shaking his head as more tears fell down his cheeks.
"My mother, there is a chance she won't make it. The doctor has asked Anthony to make a choice.. to choose if.." His voice trailed off, unable to say such a horrid thing. It was no matter, Madeleine put the rest together herself. She frowned and squeezed Benedict's hands with her small ones.
"Your mother is the strongest woman I have ever met, Benedict. She will get through this, I know she will." She nodded confidently, smiling softly at him. "She will be all right."
Madeleine got up for a moment to bring the treats into the children and make sure they were all right. Then she sat back down beside Benedict, and the two waited to find out what would happen. Benedict's hands were shaking, his leg bouncing anxiously, and Madeleine kept her hands over his, attempting to soothe him. She couldn't help but realize that she too was frightened, but she knew she mustn't show it. She smiled softly as she heard Daphne singing to Eloise and Franny, the same song she herself had been singing to them moments before. It seemed to calm Benedict as well, as he relaxed a bit and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.
It felt like it had been hours when the door finally opened. Anthony had joined the pair a while ago, waiting anxiously himself to know what had happened. The doctor walked out.
"Your mother and the child are quite all right. It is a little girl, would you two like to meet her?"
Anthony looked at Benedict as both boys nodded immediately. Madeleine gave Benedict's hand a squeeze of encouragement before letting go so that he could go inside. She smiled to herself, sighing in relief as she walked back into the drawing room.
Anthony entered first, Benedict following at his heel, eager to see for himself that they were both okay. Violet held the child in her arms, staring at her with an indiscernible expression. A tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head softly.
"Edmund should be here." She could barely muster a whisper, and her voice was blanketed in sadness.
The two boys sat on the edge of the bed, on either sides of their mother. Violet handed the baby carefully to Anthony, and Benedict took her hand, kissing it.
"I am so glad you are okay, Mother." She smiled softly at him, sadness ever so clear in her eyes.
"She shall be called Hyacinth, for Edmund's favorite flower."