Upper Orders//Benedict Bridgerton

⚘twenty seven⚘

In an attempt to continue to smooth things over, Benedict has decided to take me to see the Academy.

"You will finally show me what it is you are working on?" I ask.

Benedict nods. "I thought you might like to see."

I smile. "I have only been nagging you for weeks to see what you are working on."

Benedict's valet comes rushing towards us.

"What is it? Is everything alright?" Benedict asks.

"It is your brother sir."

Benedict and I rush into Lady Danbury's home after Anthony. One of the servants tells us the Anthony has carried Miss Sharma upstairs to her bedchamber. Benedict and I rush in after them. Miss Sharma is already surrounded by her mama and sister.

"What happened?" I question.

"My valet saw you carry Miss Sharma inside," Benedict tells his brother. "Is she all right?"

"I do not know," Anthony tells us.

I can see that he is heartbroken over whatever has happened. Miss Sharma is unconscious on her bed. I can only assume that anything that has happened is not good.

"Are you all right?" I ask Anthony.

I can see tears in Anthony's eyes. "It's my fault. It is all my fault."

"Anthony," Benedict says. His brother does not look at him. "Anthony." Anthony rushes from the room. "Anthony."

Benedict follows after his brother. I offer my sympathy before doing the same.

I sit in the drawing room at the Featherington house.

"I do hope Whistledown picks up her pen again in time to write about my forthcoming nuptials," Prudence says.

"Perhaps she rested her pen so she did not have to write about such an uninteresting affair," Philipa offers.

"Or perhaps she was done ruining the lives of others," I offer.

"Mama, I wish to visit Eloise," Penelope says. "It has been a week."

"You will not set foot into that household," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"This will blow over," I assure Penelope. "All things do."

"Varley," Aunt Featherington says as she stands up. "Lord Featherington and I would like to give a ball."

"Excellent idea," Lord Featherington says.

"So that we may finally celebrate our engagement?" Prudence asks.

"So that we may finally celebrate all of us," Aunt Featherington says. "Varley, I want luster and glitter and gold. I want the best of everything. And we will call it The Featherington Ball."

"How original," Penelope remarks.

"I will have invitations sent out straight away, ma'am," Mrs Varley assures. "Now..." She clears her throat. "...what about the Bridgertons and the Sharmas? Considering the state of their households."

"It certainly would be titillating to see those two families in one place again," Prudence says.

"Everyone does love a touch of drama," Philipa adds.

"You forget I am a Bridgerton now, cousins," I tell her. "And everyone knows Miss Sharma is yet to awaken from her accident. Perhaps you shouldn't make jest of her family at a time like this?"

"Invite them all," Lady Featherington states. "They likely will not come, of course, poor souls, but let everyone be allowed to finally see how well we're doing. After such a tragic year."

Benedict and I are in the drawing room of the Bridgerton home. Things have been rather somber in the week since Miss Sharma's fall from her horse.

"Roses and lilacs, I think, this time," Lady Bridgerton tells Mrs Wilson.

"Cheerful," Mrs Wilson says.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wilson," Lady Bridgerton says.

"Are you sending flowers to the Sharmas again?" Hyacinth asks.

"There's nothing worse than rotting flowers when someone is unwell," Lady Bridgerton explains.

"We're not attending this Featherington Ball, are we?" Colin asks.

"Oh, I do not know. I suppose it is a good thing we were invited," Lady Bridgerton reasons. "On my walk this morning I was given the cut direct. Twice. At least Lady Whistledown does not seem to be writing about it."

"She does not seem to be writing at all anymore," Benedict says. "Is that not right, El?"

"Eloise, uh, perhaps a stroll with Penelope might help clear your mind," Lady Bridgerton offers.

"The last thing Penelope needs is to be seen consorting with the likes of me," Eloise insists. "The Featheringtons know how bad this is. And you do too. Even if you refuse to admit it."

Anthony walks into the room. "No one informed me that we have lost three staff in the last month. These are precisely the things I must know about."

"We are not the only ones affected by our ill reputation of late, Anthony," Lady Bridgerton tells him.

"Colin. Would you care to inform me about anything?" Anthony asks.

"I do not take note of staff changes, Brother," Colin tells him.

"What about our accounts?" Anthony asks. "You do not seem to take note of them either, since I spent the last two days balancing our books, only to discover that you have taken out a rather large sum. Whatever for?"

Everyone looks at Colin suspiciously.

"If you must know, I was exploring an investment with Lord Featherington," Colin explains.

"This is just what makes the difficulties in this household. No one gives any thought as to how it must be managed," Anthony says.

"He is one and 20, Brother," Benedict reminds him.

"Is no one allowed to make their own decisions?" Eloise asks.

"You, keep doodling. And do not ask me to speak of your activities. I wouldn't know where to begin," Anthony scolds.

"May I be excused?" Eloise asks.

"I must go too," Colin says as he stands up from the sofa. "But do not worry, Brother. I shall send you notice of every step I take today."

Benedict grabs my hand as we stand up. "Yes. Doodling awaits, I suppose."

"And our son awaits, I would rather think," I add.

Instead of being late coming home from the Academy Benedict is home early.

"You are early," I tell him.

"I am an imposter," Benedict tells me.

"Whatever are you talking about?" I question.

Benedict sits down on the end of the bed and sighs. "My acceptance into the Academy was based on a large donation from Anthony."

I sit down beside him. "How could you possibly know that?"

"The other students were talking about it," Benedict tells me.

"And you believe them?" I ask.

"Should I not?" Benedict questions.

"That does not mean you would not have been accepted on your own," I reason. I take Benedict's hands in mine. "Your art is magnificent. And I am not just saying it because I am your wife." Benedict does not say anything. "I wish to ask you to promise me one more thing."

Benedict looks at me curiously. "I already promised no more tea."

"I want you to promise me that you will not stop doing your art," I tell him. "Whether it be here or at the Academy. I do not care. Just do not stop."

"I will not," Benedict tells me.

I smile before leaning in to kiss him. I pull away leaning my forehead on his. "Art is what makes you happy. And I only wish to see you happy."