Upper Orders//Benedict Bridgerton

⚘thirty eight⚘

Dearest Gentle Reader, if you thought that revealing my true identity would stifle me, guess again. I fear no reproach, as now you know I write to you from one of the most reputable houses in Mayfair. Certainly, no house is perfect. Though, there are some that purport to be.

Take, for example, Bridgerton House, with its shining reputation. This author must question what really goes on behind closed doors. It is known that Lady Violet Bridgerton praises love matches above all else. But does love excuse why several of her children have had rather rushed engagements? Perhaps the family confuses love with lust.

And then there is the fact that there are so many Bridgerton children. Has one ever wondered why so many? This author certainly has. Perhaps because a few of them may be of dubious parentage.

Benedict grabs the copy of Whistledown from my hands. He starts to rip it to pieces.

"It is so obvious that Cressida is envious of your family," I tell him.

"Our family," Benedict states. "And she is speaking of our engagement you realise."

I nod my head. "I do and I do not care." I wrap my arms around Benedict. "I know that our engagement was rushed but it was for love not anything Cressida may be hinting at."

"I imagine my mama is cursing the whole Cowper family," Benedict remarks.

"Probably," I agree. "Though I am grateful that Cressida kept our children out of it."

"She would have regretted it if she talked about our sons in her little scandal sheet," Benedict insists.

"Ma'am, another Whistledown," our housekeeper tells me.

I take the paper from her.

Dearest Gentle Reader... it seems someone has been impersonating me, and so I can no longer sit idly by. This author is not interested in judging what one does out of desperation. But gossip as I might, I always tell the truth, and I cannot tolerate a lie. Cressida Cowper, this author is not. If she were me, surely she would have reported on the great debt Lord Blackburn refused to repay to Lord Samson this week. Or the fact that Mrs. Newham unceremoniously dismissed her maid yesterday for the simple act of asking for a day off.  And I will not even mention the small cruelties Mr. Davidson's wife endures daily. Except, I suppose, I just did. I say this all to remind you that this author, the true Lady Whistledown, is always paying attention. Something that I believe Miss Cowper should try to do a little more. Yours Truly, Lady Whistledown.

"That is much better," I state.

"That is a true Whistledown," Benedict states.

"Still harsh," I state. "But true. That is what matters. Lady Whistledown has never lied."

"The gossip in the ton means she has never needed to," Benedict offers.

"We all should have known Cressida Cowper does not have the wits about her to be Lady Whistledown," I state.

"And it is not so crazy to believe she would lie about such a thing," Benedict offers.

"She is a liar. Everyone knows that much," I tell him.

I have just changed into my nightgown when the door to the bedroom opens. Benedict smiles as he steps inside.

"You are home rather early," I remark. "Much earlier than the night before Anthony's wedding."

"It was more tame than the night before Anthony's failed wedding," Benedict remarks. "Through the night before his wedding to Kate I do remember leaving early because someone was feeling needy."