It is said that second-born sons have all the fun. This much is certainly true for Benedict Bridgerton, free from the burdens held by his eldest brother, the Viscount. One must wonder, how does the second eldest Bridgerton spend his time?
To the to...
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Benedict's eyes widened in fear and he rushed to the door, opening it and frantically calling out for help. He hurried back to Madeleine, wrapping his arms around her.
"It's okay, my love. It's going to be okay." He whispered, fear coursing through his body as he held her.
"Oh, it hurts, dear god, it hurts." She sobbed, clutching on to his shirt with a iron-like grip.
Daphne was the first to rush in, her room just down the hall. She looked at the scene before her and turned, loudly calling out to send for help.
Anthony, currently halfway up the stairs with his mother, rushed back downstairs into his office to send for the doctor. Violet hurried into the room, sitting on the other side of Madeleine.
"What hurts, dear? Where is it?" Her eyes were worried as she examined Madeleine for any visible injuries.
"The baby," the girl sobbed out, shutting her eyes tightly from the pain, "It's the baby."
Benedict's breaths quickened as she spoke and his heart pounded, an all-consuming fear creeping into his chest. He felt utterly helpless as they waited, only able to hold Madeleine and whisper sweet comforts to her.
The doctor rushed in no more than fifteen minutes later, ordering Benedict and Violet to step away. Anthony ushered his younger siblings out of the room, all having come from their room when they heard the screaming, and brought them to the drawing room.
Benedict did not take his eyes off of the doctor as he began to examine Madeleine, panic coursing through his veins. He felt an arm around his shoulder as his mother comforted him, and it was then that he noticed the hot tears rushing down his cheeks.
The last time he had felt a fear as strong as this was when his father died, and one week later, when his mother almost died giving birth to Hyacinth. He could not lose Madeleine. The very thought inflicted such pain as though his heart had shattered into millions of glass shards, penetrating every inch of his body.
The doctor looked up after what felt like ages, but had likely been a mere twenty minutes.
"I am terribly sorry. The baby did not make it." His voice was a solemn whisper and Benedict felt the world crumble around him, everything fading into oblivion.
He stared at the doctor, unable to believe that he had just said what he did. It felt as if the world was moving in slow-motion, the doctor's lips parting and coming together slowly as he continued to speak. Benedict did not hear a word he said, his ears ringing in a droning tone.
He was pulled out of this hypnotic state by Madeleine's cries, unimaginable anguish and grief filling the air with every one. He let out a breath he did not know he was holding in, rushing over to her side and pulling her into his arms. She sobbed into his chest, her body shaking in agony.
Tears flooded down his cheeks, landing in her hair as he held her tightly. The two held each other as if their lives depended on it, finding in each other the only sense of comfort that could be offered in this unthinkable tragedy.
Violet walked the doctor out, her own tears betraying her polite speech as they stung her eyes. She closed the door once he left, leaning against it as the floodgates opened and the tears rushed down her cheeks.
Benedict held Madeleine in his arms as she sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he failed in his attempts to remain strong for her. He could not remember a time in his life when he had felt this heartbroken. When his father died he was in so much pain, but it was a different kind of pain. It was a different kind of heartbreak to know your baby was no longer alive.
The two had been sitting there for nearly two hours when Benedict left Madeleine to make her a cup of tea. He stood in the kitchen, one arm crossed across his chest and a hand over his mouth, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as the kettle whistled in the background.
Daphne walked in at that moment, unaware he was there. Her heart sank as she laid eyes on her brother, eyes closed, his body trembling as he cried. She felt her own tears prick at her eyes as she walked over to him, pulling him into a hug.
Her heart ached as he wrapped his arms around her, melting into her embrace. His body shook with sobs, his immeasurable grief consuming his emotions. She felt a terrible sense of helplessness, unsure of what she could say in such a situation. She did not say anything, she just held her brother tightly as he broke down in her arms. After a while, she pulled away, resting her hands on his cheeks.
"I am so sorry, Benedict. There is no comfort to be offered in such a tragedy." She whispered, tears running down her cheeks as her heart ached for her brother and Madeleine. He nodded, knowing there was nothing anybody could say that would make any of this better.
Daphne stayed with him for a while longer, simply being there for him so he knew that he was not alone. Benedict took a deep breath, wiping his face with his hand.
"I, um.. I have to go. I have to bring this to Madeleine." He turned, grabbing the cup of tea. Daphne nodded, watching him with sad eyes as he left the kitchen.
Benedict headed up the stairs, opening the door to his room to find it empty. He narrowed his eyebrows and called her name, checking in the bathroom and closet.
Something out the window caught his eye, and he moved closer to see Madeleine standing in the backyard. He set the tea down, grabbing a jacket and running downstairs. He headed out to the backyard, rain pouring down on his head once he stepped outside.
Madeleine was standing with her arms crossed over herself, her gaze seemed distant and zoned out. Her body remained unflinching as the raindrops pattered against her skin, as if she could not even feel them. Benedict slowly walked up to her, watching her with a concerned gaze.
"It always seems to rain when I am at my lowest." She spoke after a moment, her voice an empty whisper. Benedict frowned, his lips parting. He did not know what to say. How do you comfort somebody who has just lost their baby? Who now has to return to a nursery full of tarnished dreams to pack everything back up?
He sighed and walked closer, gently pulling her into his chest and wrapping the jacket tightly around her. They simply stood in the backyard, their tears blending together with the rain to create a still portrait of loss.
