To Paint With Shadows | Benedict Bridgerton

Throw Yourself to the Wolves

'Benedict, is she alright?' Violet asked anxiously, as Benedict rushed through the door carrying Sophie in his arms. Anthony followed close behind him, the two never wavering in speed as they made their way towards the stairs.
'Have you called for a doctor?' Benedict asked sharply, fear pouring from his features.
'Yes-' Violet answered quickly, but before she could say anymore Benedict was already at the top of the stairs.
His mind was storm-ridden; his thoughts a fog, in the haze of his dread; he could not lose her. She was still breathing, Benedict had made sure of that, his hold on her remaining throughout the quick carriage ride, but each breath was shallow and rasped. Before, Benedict even considered where he was taking her, he pushed open the door of his room with his shoulder, placing her down on the bed; he watched as he eyes fluttered open, only to roll around her head.
'Sophie.' He whimpered, gripping her hand with his, his knees crashing to the floor, 'Sophie.' He spoke through the dryness of his mouth. The rest of the Bridgerton stood in the doorway, unsure of what to; yet, the all quickly dispersed as Anthony and the doctor bolted into the room.
'Doctor Nichols.' Anthony announced to the room
'You must help her!' Benedict begged, tears filling his eyes, 'It is her heart.' He grabbed the man's hand, who quickly recoiled.
'What has happened?' The doctor asked, looking Sophie over, and concluding he needed more clarity on the situation.
'She has episodes of dizziness and fatigue. They do not know its cause.' Benedict explained quickly, 'She just collapsed in my arms.' His voice breaking as he recalled the memory.
The doctor made his way round to Sophie's bedside, gently lifting her eyelids to gauge her levels of consciousness, before placing two fingers on her wrist. 'Is this condition worse when she is stressed?' He queried, his eyes fixed on his pocket watch.
'Yes.' Benedict answered hesitantly, guilt consuming his words; he had been the cause of such stress.
Doctor sighed as he looked up at Anthony. 'Her pulse is weak, I fear there is not much I can do for her.' He spoke solemnly.
Benedict let out a cry, his trembling fingers finding their way to his lips; Colin stepped further into the room, placing a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.
'You must do all you can. Whatever it takes.' Anthony instructed softly, but clearly, his own eyes wide.
As Doctor Nichols nodded in understanding, The Bridgertons began making their way out of the room, all but one: the immovable force of Benedict stood, his eyes set on Sophie. 'You must save her.' He cried, 'Please.'
The doctor stood then, closing the distance between Benedict so that he may look him in the eye. 'Sir, I will do all I can to save your wife... but you must allow me to work.' He delivered gently, looking to support from Anthony and Colin as they began to drag their brother out of the room. Once the door had been shut, Benedict began pacing, muttering to himself as he ran his hands through his hair; his siblings and mother watched him, wanting so badly to rid him of his worry, but even they could not be rid of theirs.
'Benedict!' Violet called out hoping to gain his attention: when she was met with no response, she repeated his name once again.
'Benedict.' She muttered softly, as she grabbed his wrist, 'If you do not calm yourself, the doctor will have to see to you too.' Fearint the paling of his skin.
Benedict glared at her, the tears obscuring his view. 'How can you ask that of me!' He snapped, 'She is to die... she is to die and it is my fault.' He croaked, his chest heaving as he slowly sunk to the floor.
Violet looked to Anthony, her look telling him to give them some space. As soon as Anthony understood he began quietly ushering his siblings away. She then joined her son on the floor; their backs resting against the wall.
She took a deep breath, as she watched her son writhe in pain. 'This is my doing.' She mumbled, as her eyes bounced from wall to wall. Benedict sniffled, looking up at her in confusion.
Violet smiled sadly: 'Your heart has always been so virtuous. Even as a boy you seemed to love everything and everyone so dearly.' She continued, her gaze wistful as she thought of him as a child. 'I suppose I have taken it for granted; I have always been so assured in the fact that you care for your sibling and myself so deeply, that I have caused you to carry everyone's burdens.' She took his hand hers, her own tears threatening to drown her features. 'Anthony has always been practical and logical, it is why he is a great viscount, but you... you have taken on the toll of this family's feelings when he and I could not.' She chocked, a lump catching in his throat, 'I am sorry, that your emotions have so often been dismissed because of it, so much so that you are blind to them yourself.' Her wash was awash with tears.
Benedict allowed his eyes to fall to his fingers, as he fidget with the ring upon his pinky. 'For so long I have lived with this perpetual despair, even when I was happy I felt myself trying to overcome this numbness I feel.' He spoke up, 'I did not mind it, I wore it as an armour: keeping the things I care about at arm's reach.' He smiled, with the thought of his next words, 'Yet, the moment I met Sophie, she seemed to vanquish my defences almost immediately... After that every feeling I held towards her was so vigorous, consuming me with colours I have never felt so vibrantly: painting my world anew.'
Suddenly, the pair of them broke out into the occasional chuckle; Violet glad that her son had found someone he truly cared for, and Benedict overcome with the truth of his happiness.
When they calmed themselves Violet spoke again, the events of the evening catching up with her: 'What will you do?' She queried.
Benedict leaned his head back, eyes drifting to the ceiling: 'I do not know. I had thought tonight may be the cure.'
'There is no cure.' Violet simply stated, 'In time opinions will change, but you will never be fully rid of their judgement, and whilst I understand your thinking, to her it seems that tonight you have eternally displayed her, so that all may do the same, whilst you have simply hidden behind the safety of a painting.' Violet explained sympathetically.
'What are you saying?' Benedict asked, hope flashing in his eyes.
'I am saying that no matter how humble the person, we all wish to be loved visibly; throw yourself to the wolves too.' She further clarified, a slight smile donning both of their faces.