Upper Orders//Benedict Bridgerton

⚘eighteen⚘

Benedict is getting ready to leave for his family home. He and his brothers are getting together today to fence.

"I was not even invited to my cousin's wedding," I state.

"Did you really want to attend?" Benedict asks.

"No," I confess. Benedict laughs lightly. "But she is my cousin. She is part of the only family I had growing up."

Benedict is moving things around clearly looking for something. I hold up his leather belt.

"Looking for something?" I ask. Benedict smiles. "I fear you would lose your head were it not attached."

Benedict goes to take the belt from me, but I pull it back. Benedict watches me as I move to stand behind him. I wrap the belt around him and tie it in the back. Once the belt is fastened Benedict turns to face me.

"You are always taking care of me," Benedict says.

"Will you be attending the soiree tonight at Danbury house?" I ask.

"No," Benedict tells me. "I promised Mr Mondrich I would visit his new club."

I nod slightly. "Do not stay out too late."

Benedict smiles as he steps closer to me. "Oh. Did you have something planned for tonight, my love?"

I smile as I pull on the front of his shirt. "I guess you will not find out unless you come home at a reasonable hour."

Benedict groans. "You make it so hard to resist you."

I lean in and kiss Benedict. "I never asked you to resist." I wrap my arms around Benedict tightly pressing my front to his.

"If you keep this up, I will be late to meet my brothers," Benedict tells me.

I smile mischievously. "Would that be so bad?"

"I really have to go," Benedict insists.

"Fine." I sigh. "I suppose I will have to make do without you."

Benedict smiles as he kisses me. "I will be home at a reasonable hour."

I head to the soiree at the Danbury House. I thought it was going to be a normal party but instead each eligible young man is showcasing a talent. So far, the talents have included flute playing, cymbal playing, magic, and a rather strange dance.

"At least it is the men who are making fools of themselves this time," Miss Sharma whispers to me.

"Was this your idea?" I ask.

"I wish I could take credit, but no," Miss Sharma tells me. "Lady Danbury encouraged a poetry reading. The men, thanks to their spirit and competition, concocted the rest of this farce on their own."

I laugh lightly. "Of course, they did."

Lady Danbury moves to stand in front of all of us. "Oh, yes. Marvelous."

"You are the viscount's sister-in-law, yes?" Miss Sharma asks.

"Yes. But do not hold it against me. It is not a blood relation after all," I joke.

A man with a yoyo finishes his little show. Lady Danbury steps forward once more.

"Yes. Yes. How about a pause?" Lady Danbury says.

After a brief pause the talents begin again this time with a poetry reading.

"And on that cheek, and o-er that brow, so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, the smiles that win, the tints that glow, but tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!"

Everyone claps for the last performance.

"Gentlemen, thank you all for the most splendid display of your talents this evening. A memorable occasion, to be sure," Lady Danbury says.

"Pardon me. Lady Danbury?" Anthony says as he walks into the room.

I can see Benedict trailing behind him.

"Uh, Lord Bridgerton, I did not expect you," Lady Danbury says.

"No, I seem to have fallen off the guest list. Ah. Though you'd never deny a young man you've known for nine and twenty years the pleasure of your company? And neither would your footman at the front door," Anthony says.

"Apologies, viscount. You appear to be late again. We were bringing the evening to a conclusion..." Miss Sharma starts.

Anthony interrupts her, "Surely Miss Edwina has time for one more. I spent all evening crafting something. An original. Would you like to hear it?" Miss Edwina nods slightly. "Would everyone like to hear it?"

The crowd agrees.

"Yes. Most definitely."

"Go on, then."

"Of course, Lord Bridgerton."

Lady Danbury steps aside for Anthony to take center stage.

Anthony starts to read from a paper, "What is it..." He clears his throat. "...truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty./So much that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her...To honor...To hon..." He rumples the paper and throws it into the fire. "My apologies. I cannot do this. I cannot claim these words as my own. They are someone else's entirely. Truth be told, I'm not..." Anthony sighs. "I'm not a man of poetry. Words of flattery are beautiful and sweet, but they are also hollow unless accompanied by action. Miss Edwina, I could stand here and pretend to be someone I am not. I could pretend to want the very same things as you, but I'd be lying. I may not be able to... offer the display of passion that you truly deserve. But I assure you that when it comes to action and duty... I shall never be found lacking. And I hope that is what will speak louder than any pretty words ever can."

Everyone claps for Anthony's performance. I turn to Benedict noting he has made it to my side.

"I seem to remember you telling me you were not attending," I tell Benedict.

"Anthony enlisted me for help," Benedict tells me. He fakes a yawn. "It is getting rather late don't you think?"

I fake a yawn of my own. "I think it is, dear."

"I shall have the carriage brought around," Benedict tells me.

Benedict and I start the short ride back to our home.

"Those were your words tonight," I state. "The ones Anthony read."

Benedict nods. "Indeed."

"How was your evening before your brother interrupted?" I ask.

"I met a Mr. Cruikshank, an illustrator. A talented illustrator. We spoke about art and the Royal Academy Schools," Benedict tells me.

I look at Benedict a little surprised. "Are you thinking of applying?"

"Would it be alright if I said yes?" Benedict asks.

I take his hand in mine. "Of course, it would be, Benedict. Your art is your passion. I would not stand in the way of that."

Benedict smiles widely. "Thank you, Diana. You have always supported me."

"And I always will," I assure.

Benedict leans towards me. "I should like to thank you."

I wrap my arms around his neck. "I have a few ways that may be accomplished."

Benedict smiles as he kisses me. "I am at your service."

There are two things that lurk within the dark and shadowy places of our fair city. Vermin and secrets. I shall leave it to you, dear reader, as to which do the most harm. One has to wonder what secrets the season's diamond is holding near and dear to her heart. And who shall she choose to share them with? The Viscount Bridgerton, perhaps? At least the elder Sharma's opinion on such a matter is certainly no secret at all.

To be fair, one might call this author the biggest secret-sharer of all. For who else could possibly keep all of you honest? When even the most well-kept of secrets must eventually come to light.