Bridgerton Imagines

A Necklace of Pearls // B.B. [blurb]

"Darling?" You call out as you step onto the balcony, watching the tired set of Benedict's shoulders straighten at the sound of your voice. "Is everything okay? You're missing the party."

Even now, though removed from it, the light sounds of conversation, music and laughter float out onto the balcony. It had been thrown in your honour; celebrating Benedict's and yours tenth anniversary, and the night was going swimmingly until you noticed the absence of your beloved husband.

"It's nothing, my love," Benedict reassures, turning to face you with a small smile on his face. He leans against the balcony railing as he reaches a hand out for you.

Happily, you go to your husband's embrace, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before focusing your stare on him. "It's not nothing. Tell me – what is the matter?"

"A moment of privacy, that's all."

"Whatever for?"

"To give you your gift."

"I thought we agreed no presents, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Ah," Benedict chuckles, "So the easel and charcoals currently set up in my art room are not a gift from you?"

"Nope," You shake your head, a wry smile on your face.

"And the brand new leather sketch book that was placed on my desk this morning has absolutely nothing to do with you?"

"Nothing."

"Oh," Benedict sighs dramatically. "Then I guess you won't be wanting this then?" He pulls a delicately wrapped rectangular box from an inside pocket of his jacket.

You reach for the box, curious to see what was nestled inside. Benedict holds it just out of reach, laughing at the growing pout on your lips. "Alright," He concedes eventually, handing you the box. "It's yours."

You smile gratefully at your husband, rising onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before tearing into the paper. Your breath becomes stuck in your throat when you catch sight of what the box held so delicately. A necklace of pearls sits inlaid within red velvet; a necklace just long enough to rest perfectly at the base of your throat.

"Benedict..." You gasp, "They're gorgeous."

"My Aunt Billie helped me pick them out," Benedict explains. "It's why I disappeared to Aubrey Hall weeks ago. She said that my father gave my mother something similar on their anniversary. These pearls were hers, but she urged me to give them to you."

"What did I do to deserve this?" You ask, your voice awed as your fingers rest gently over the pearls.

"You make me a better person," Benedict confesses into the setting sun. "You always have, since the moment you accepted my proposal, you've made me a better person."

"Kiss me, Benedict," You urge in the muted evening light surrounding the balcony. "Kiss me like you mean it."

Those words are all it takes for Benedict to gather you in his arms. His left arm hooks around your waist as his right comes up to cradle your cheek; his thumb brushes your cheekbone; a loving smile graces his lips before he finally... finally kisses you.

No matter the length of your marriage; no matter how many times you have kissed your husband before – it would always feel like the first time. His lips were against yours as passion unfurled in your chest, smothering you with its force as your arms wound their way around Benedict's neck, your fingers tangling in the hair at his nape.

Every kiss shared with Benedict started out gently; a smooth brush of the lips before he inevitably let himself fall into the desire he still held for you after so long together. The hand at your waist crushes the material of your dress as his lips continue to claim yours for all of their worth.

You smile against his lips, deepening the kiss soon after. He tastes of the remaining bubbles of his last glass of champage; the taste becoming addictive now mixed with the potency of your husband. Your hands leave his neck, smoothing a path down to the lapels of his jacket where you tug him ever closer to you, needing to feel him pressed against you before the kiss would inevitably end.

Breathless, Benedict breaks the kiss, knowing all too well that it was only a matter of moments before the both of you were to be interrupted by one of his meddling siblings. You whimper at the loss of his mouth against yours, fluttering your eyes open to see Benedict watching you with an undecipherable look in his eyes.

"Happy Anniversary, my love," Benedict whispers, his voice breathless from the kiss.

"Happy Anniversary," You reply, brushing your lips lightly against his. "Benedict?"

"Yes?" He answers, chasing you for one last kiss.

"You're so cute when you blush."

"Then it's a good job I only ever seem to blush around you."