How Its Made // B.B.

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Warnings: mentions of sex, marriage, I messed with timelines a little bit but it works (I think), dialogue heavy. this ended up being part humour, but part serious talk about gender frustrations. idk. I like it tho. female titles - mrs etc.

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The Bridgerton family always thrived through the London social season. Their family so established within society that their balls, tea parties, and dinners were always packed with beloved friends and acquaintances.

It was one of the famous Bridgerton balls that you met your husband, Benedict. He had asked you to dance after working up the courage for most of the night, and the moment your hand touched his, he knew he was a goner. For you, it was the moment he pressed his lips to the back of your hand at the end of the dance

Two years later, your place within the family was well established. Violet doting on you as if you were one of her own children, Daphne and Eloise coming to you with questions they could never ask their mother or brothers. They placed a trust in you that you could only hope you lived up to, but all worries were worth it when you got to go home with the love of your life at the end of the day.

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The pale blue drawing room is filled with the delicate notes of the pianoforte played skilfully by Daphne. Violet stands by her daughter's side, watching her proudly before moving to the tea table and reaching for the teapot.

You sit on the opposite couch to Benedict, watching with glee as he bickers with Colin over the last buttery biscuit on the nearby plate. Benedict pouts childishly when Colin wrestles it from his fingers, taking a large bite in victory. You smirk at the expression on Benedict's face, highly amused by your husband.

"Are you laughing at your husband's loss, Mrs. Bridgerton?" Benedict asks, his voice teasing as he arches an eyebrow at you.

"Of course not, my love," You answer, "Just at the biscuit's circumstances."

A satisfied smile crosses Benedict's face at the sound of your endearment for him. You would always be his darling; he would always be your love. His smile grows so large that he forgets about his biscuit loss and instead, loses himself to thoughts of his plans for you tonight. He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear Eloise enter the room until she speaks.

"How does a lady come to be with child?" Eloise asks upon entering the pale blue drawing room; her tone demanding, her face worried.

Silence descends upon the drawing room with such speed that it makes your ears pop. Daphne pauses her practice of the pianoforte, her fingers poised over the keys. Colin chokes on the butter biscuit he was eating; the chunks getting stuck in his throat as Gregory rushes over to him with a cup of tepid earl grey tea. Violet almost drops her teacup, her legs going weak at such a question leaving her unmarried daughter's lips. Benedict's eyes find yours; wide with alarm as a shocked expression crosses his face.

It was the last thing anyone in the room was expecting to hear this morning.

"Eloise!" Violet cries, her voice shrill at the unexpected question. "What a question!"

"Apparently," Eloise chortles in disbelief. "One does not need to be married!"

"That is enough, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet exclaims angrily. "Sit down with no more talk of such things."

Eloise blinks at her mother before clamping her lips shut, joining you on the couch across from her brothers. You pat her hand consolingly. Eloise groans as she leans back on the couch, rubbing her forehead with hand. She glares at her elder brothers. "I bet the two of you know," She accuses, her shrewd gaze jumping between her siblings.

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