The Second Born Bridgerton // Benedict Bridgerton

Top half

It is a week before the next social event, which I am rather glad of. I have become ever so tired of the endless conversations, all of which seem to be to the same people or regarding the same subjects, and I am bored of it. I find myself physically exhausted as well, but that is most likely a fault of my own, since I have proceeded to continue to sneak out every night to Lord Granville's home. Only it is no longer only for painting.

"And what shall we be painting today, dear peaches?" I have arrived before Benedict tonight, most nights I do. I suppose it is more difficult for him to leave his home, what with seven siblings. As soon as he steps into the room, he removes his jacket and throws it onto the chair, taking a seat beside me as he peers to see what my paintbrush is doing. "A landscape, I should have guessed. I must say that I prefer the portrait of myself, but this is equally as handsome."

"If you call yourself handsome so much, it shall begin to become meaningless when I say it." I smile as he places a small kiss on my cheek, trying to continue to concentrate on the art in front of me. "The week of silence shall be over tomorrow with the widow's ball, and we shall no longer be able to spend each evening here."

"That is nonsense. You have spent every evening here for months, that has not changed with balls and dances previously and it shall not change in the coming weeks either. Do not pretend that you shall not still be coming here every evening to see your lord." He raises an eyebrow, wrapping his arms around my torso. "You are wonderful. You are talented, you are beautiful to look at." Between each sentence, he places a gentle kiss on my neck.

"You are distracting me from such talent." I lean back into him so that I might kiss his lips once, returning to concentrate on my painting. "I shall never finish this if my Lord does not leave me alone for even a moment."

"And what do you expect me to do? I crave a moment alone with you, I do not think that is a unreasonable. I sit in my home, at breakfast or at dinner, or in my room, or whilst speaking to one of my many siblings, and all I can think of is you. Forgive me if I show too much excitement when I am here with you." His hands run along the tops of my arms, and he does not cease kissing my jawline as I try to paint. "Is that such a bad thing, my lady?"

"It is not a bad thing at all. In fact, I enjoy it quite a bit... except, I am ever so close to finishing this, and I did hope to finish it before you arrived but you are earlier than usual. I shall be all yours in only a moment." I can feel my heart beginning to beat slightly faster as he rests his hands on my chest, but determined to finish this painting tonight, I carry on.

He seemed to not believe at first that I was indeed serious, but now kissing the back of my neck and moving himself to the seat behind me. "Then I shall paint something too. Every time that I see the things you create, I am reminded how desperately I must practice myself."

"Because they are so awful?"

"Because they are so wonderful, and you are fully aware that is what I meant, Peaches." He searches the room for a blank canvas, seemingly finding it difficult to discover one. He has painted over so many of them over the past week, each time deciding that he did not like what he had done and so discarding it do begin once again, and he was following the same pattern this evening. "I do believe I may have used all of the resources that Lord Granville was so kind to provide for you. I shall have to find myself some paper instead."

"There is paper underneath that easel, the one on the left, I am sure of it." I pause momentarily to indicate to where there is a clear stock of paper.

He slowly wanders over, taking multiple pieces before slumping back into the chair, unbuttoning the cuffs on his sleeves so that he might roll them up, leaning against the back of the chair with one leg crossed and resting on top of the other, stretching his chest out. "Do you have any suggestions on what I shall draw?"

"You have always told me that you are in need of practice on people." I do not allow myself to become put off by his attempts, narrowing my eyes a little.

"Then take off your dress and allow me to sketch you? I mean, I shall never become a true artist if I cannot sketch a person in their entirety. And if not, then at least the top half shall be acceptable?"

I am quick to look at him, the widest grin on his face, as my cheeks flush red. "Then perhaps you should use your memory. You have seen many women's breasts, and you must have seen mine at least ten times now. I paint a sunset yet fail to see one in front of me." Although I deny his request, he is getting what he wants. I begin to feel a little hot, with my heart beating quicker than it ever has and my throat becoming dry.

"I am a man, Peaches. I am simple and unobservant. I am idiotic, I lack talent, I often lack poise and grace, not to mention wit and charm. I am merely a second born, I possess no other qualities than slightly above average looks and sketching abilities. I say the wrong things in almost every situation I find myself in, and I never know what I am doing. But I do know that I am hopelessly in love with you."

"All that so that I shall take off my corset? You are an easy man to please." I cannot help myself any longer, giving in to his suggestions and removing the higher section of my dress. "Are you satisfied now, my lord?"

"Moreso than ever."