"you have no idea what it is like to be in a room with someone you cannot live without, and yet still feel as though you are oceans apart."
Sevyn was born in the slums of England, beginning to dance at age two, she was discovered by Henry Granville...
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••• "what a fool i have been to wonder if he might have a care for me.
how insane! the thought, that you could be to him dear in any way." •••
July, 1813
The chilly summer night brought on another interesting soirée on Henry Granville's behalf. Surely, Sevyn expected Benedict to attend, but she would not rely on it.
Adorned in just her undergarments, she stepped out into the hallway- still having to attend rehearsals tonight, she prepared in the hallway. Seeing Lucy setting up the parlor for the guests that were to come.
She wanted to see Benedict, speaking tonight was a different type of party than previous, she did not think he was quite prepared for what he was to witness. "I suppose you will be out late again?" Henry asked, leaning against the wall. "Hopefully, not within the presence of the Viscount again." He chuckled, receiving a nasty look from his child.
"Not funny." She groaned, wishing to be left alone, and have her parents forget about the Whistledown article. "It is not what you think it was."
"I saw, Sev." He sighed, sliding down to sit next to her on the wooden floor, "you never have to lie to me, you know?" She slowly nodded, her attention fixed on her twiddling thumbs. "Anthony came and talked to me about two mornings ago..."
Her head snapped in her direction, "pardon me?"
"He was worried he had upset your trust," she sighed, knowing that is what she feared, "I tried to tell him you would not hold it against him." He looked to her curiously, "what is it I hear about Benedic-"
"I must be going." She stood from the floor, scurrying to wrap herself up, covering her rehearsal clothes.
"Sev..."
"I do not wish to be late, father." He nodded hesitantly, staring up at her from his position on the floor. "I shall be home later."
Henry wished Sevyn would open up on the matter, but knowing she did not intend to marry- or that she has not seemed to change her opinion on the matter- confused him greatly. He never knew what to expect with the child.
Most men would not seek her out, feeling she knew too much. He knew how arrogant and ignorant the Ton was, and Sevyn was an educated woman. He never kept her in the dark about things that could be important for her to know once she got older.
Within the presence of other party-goers, Sir Henry did not really know if the Bridgerton was to show, but the light knock on the door eased his nerves.
Hearing the muddled revelry, Benedict stood anxiously at the door, hearing "Bridgerton!" A greeting from the man of the house, "I am so glad you came."
To which he responded, "I dare not miss it."
"Please, come in." Henry lead the young man into the house- a much different environment that what he had encountered the previous event. "Make yourself at home." He told his guest, "I would show you around, but host duty calls."
Against the noise of guests clamoring, Benedict began to roam the halls. Looking from room to room, full of taboo portraits, naked models, and dancing women. He ached for a life such as this one.
Catching his gaze, Genevieve Delacroix, clammed in her favorite bed-wear greeted him. "What are you doing here?"
The man turned surprised at the new voice, "apologies." He stated quizzically, "Have we met?"
"We do not need to have met." The woman laughed, "you are a Bridgerton, yes?"
"I see my reputation precedes me." He responded smugly, a flirtatious smirk on his face.
"Not exactly a virtue." She said with an ironic chuckle.
"Anything that gets me your attention is a good thing, I rather think." He stalked closer, clearly interested.
"You should go," Genevieve warned, not moving an inch. "Home to your brother, perhaps."
He released a scoff, easing his eyes to her corset, "but I'm receiving far too warm a welcome here."
As the clamoring continued around them, Henry could not help but notice Benedict's entanglement with the modiste- confusing him since Anthony had stated Benedict's intention with his daughter, but Granville was soon swept away to engage in his own matters.
Lead through the darkness by Harrison Freedman, the man who was to play Romeo, she arrived home safely. With an appreciative goodbye, she entered her packed home, which almost made her feel like a stranger. The halls were filled with strangers, and quite more than usual.
The mass looked to her as if she was the oddity, actually adorned in clothing. She tried to rush through the house, and reside in her bedroom till her house was just its normal residence, but she found herself curious to if Benedict were present.
To her unfortunate discovery on the loveseat out side of her fathers lounge, she found the man she was looking for, but not in the position she hoped to see him.
With a small, barely audible gasp, she recognized the women. Madame Delacroix and her own mother.
Catching the eyes of Lucy, who quickly shot up, "Sev." The girl ran up the stairs, hearing Benedict calling her name panicked.
Madame Delacroix and her mother.
Her mother.
She felt as if she was to hurl, locking the door to not allow any unwanted visitors, or any of the trio she just witnessed in her room.
The pounding on her door never seemed to stop, but she just became immune to at after a few minutes, allowing it to blend in with the loud noises erupting through the rest of the house.
Of course, she knew of her fathers predicament, and it never bothered her or Lucy, and that was not why she was upset.
She had rejected a lifetime of acting as she pleased, and being respected by the Ton and to have a title- to be Anthony's wife... to follow in the pursuit of a possible love match in the future.
