𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆
musical affair

THEY ALWAYS KNEW when their mother was plotting. And to host a musicale in their home was definitely a sign of Violet Bridgerton's scheming.

Benedict was not particularly bothered by the notion, since he knew very well that the probable target of their mother's plots was Anthony. While technically this was Eloise's first season, it was clear to all — or at least, it was very clear to Benedict — that his sister did not want to be married this season.

On the other hand, Anthony seems almost tame to their mother's pestering, which Benedict knew was because he had gotten into his head to get married.

That left Colin and Benedict to feel a sense of freedom when attending the ton's events, which would probably not last, but was greatly appreciated while it did.

They were sparring in the gardens that afternoon, a form of sibling bonding they began years before. In the beginning, mere child's play that evolved into actual rules when the swords became sharper. Anthony always called for such things when he was stressed, and ever since he'd gotten into his mind to get married, all that burdened Anthony seemed to be upped tenfold.

He was watching Anthony let out his frustration by viciously sparring with Colin, fighting to keep his amused grin off his face lest Anthony saw it and decided to tear it off with his blade.

"She is pompous and arrogant and quite sure she knows best in every situation," Anthony spoke through gritted teeth as he struck against Colin.

"She sounds like a terrible nuisance."

"Especially since you are the one who knows best in every situation," Benedict couldn't help but comment, since the complaints coming from Anthony almost sounded like Daphne's rants about him last season.

That comment seemed to spur Anthony in to defeat Colin once more, throwing his scabbard away from him.

"And the victor of every match today," Colin bemoaned.

Anthony simply ignored Colin and walked forward, turning to Benedict.  "Less talking, more fencing. Brother." He indicated for Benedict to take Colin's place.

Benedict took the weapon with a sigh, already imagining the sore muscles he would be sporting later tonight.

He opened his arms as if for an embrace as he faced off Anthony, a sly smile on his lips. "Ready?"

Anthony merely retained the most serious look he could muster as they began fencing, before deciding to speak.

"Do you know why I win every time?"

Benedict countered his brother's move as he responded. "Because every time you lose, you claim we cheated." He managed to score a point, and so they separated and faced off each other once more.

"Because I know my duties," Anthony continued, not ruffled by Benedict's words. "What my purposes are and how to obtain them. Which I will do when I make Miss Edwina my viscountess."

Just as he finished saying those words, Anthony managed to touch Benedict, making them tied. Benedict turned and took a deep breath as they began again, trying not to listen to his brother, the distraction surely part of Anthony's plan.

"Miss Edwina and I are well suited, she is a lovely young lady." As he continued to speak, Benedict playfully moved his sword to annoy Anthony, and couldn't help the smile off his face when he saw he was succeeding. "She wishes for children, she'll make a perfectly agreeable wife."

"What he means to say is that he has already dismissed every other young lady in town," Benedict said while he countered every move Anthony made with a grin, the annoyance coming from his brother just serving to amuse him further.

"You take too much upon yourself, brother," Colin piped in, from his very comfortable position on a bench as their spectator. "Perhaps your life might be easier if you pursued someone with a less disagreeable sister."

Anthony lost all focus on the spar at that, turning to Colin with an incensed expression. "Why should I be the one to admit defeat?"

He almost regained his posture, turning to face Benedict again only to rapidly turn around and leave Benedict stumbling, free to laugh silently to himself at his brother's fury over the elder Miss Sharma, exchanging an amused look with Colin, who was also very much enjoying Anthony lose his head.

"Regardless of which young lady I have chosen to pursue, there would've always been some obstinate father or meddlesome aunt into the picture. I shall certainly not let some sister, especially one younger than me, keeping from getting what it is I want." Anthony finished his tirade by finally rejoining Benedict, who gave him no time to think before going on the offense.

"Whom you want, you mean?" Benedict asked as he scored against Anthony, taking him by surprise when the sword touched his side.

"Is this still a friendly match, or do we need to find some armor?" Colin jokingly asked.

"That is what you do lot understand, brother," Anthony remarked. "Benedict honors me by holding nothing back." They faced each other one final time, Benedict finally with some modicum of seriousness. "As I now honor him."

Benedict barely had any time to counteract as Anthony went forward, losing his footing and falling back into the grass.

"What honor," he muttered, accepting his brother's hand to get up.

"Thank you, gentlemen, for the bracing exertion." He pulled Benedict for a hug, to which Benedict could only stare on in befuddlement. "Now it is time for me to secure my final victory for the day."

As he walked away with a comment for them to wish him luck, Benedict exchanged a look with Colin, the two of them left astounded by Anthony.

"Should I perhaps have told him that Miss Edwina is still very much ill, and will not be attending mother's musicale?" Colin asked, his tone sounding genuine, but his face nothing if not mischievous.

"You sly devil," Benedict laughed. "He is going to be incensed tonight."

Colin shrugged, going to the table beside the bench where some refreshments were laid out and taking a glass of water for himself. "I still think he should look into other options, not only does this situation seem entirely too troublesome, I think he gives way more attention to Miss Kate Sharma rather than Miss Edwina Sharma."

Benedict went to join him, the combination of the sun with the exercise was a perfect recipe for becoming overheated.

"I agree, but you know our brother, once he's gotten something into his head, there's little that will change it."

"We should prepare some suggestions for him perhaps, for once he has gotten his spirit entirely crushed."

Benedict raised a brow. "And who would you suggest? Are you very in tune with the ongoings of the season?"

"I read Whistledown, as most people do. And contrary to you, I actually attend the ton's events."

Benedict could not argue that he mostly abstained from any gatherings, be it for a trip to a gentlemen's club where he could hardly be coerced to dance with unattached young ladies or one of the less proper parties that Granville liked to throw.

"I attend occasionally," Benedict tried to defend himself.

"Yes, to help Eloise escape from possible suitors and then abstain to the card room." Colin had a point, and so Benedict merely rolled his eyes. "And I was thinking perhaps Lady Guinevere Bedwyn."

The name was such a surprise that Benedict choked on his drink, ensuing a coughing fit and Colin hitting him on the back.

"Bedwyn? As in, Bewcastle's sister?" He asked once he'd regained his composure.

Colin nodded. "The very same."

Benedict did not personally know the young lady, but as one of her brothers was someone he considered a friend, Benedict felt he'd heard enough from Rannulf to form an impression of Guinevere Bedwyn, shallow as it may be. Rannulf was always saying how proper she was, the apple of their brother the Duke of Bewcastle's eye, and proudly stated how she'd thought little of most prospective suitors.

"Isn't she the one that is very... exigent?" Benedict asked, figuring his choice of adjective was better than most.

"I suppose, but Anthony is a Viscount, a perfectly well-suited position for a lady such as her."

Benedict doubted the reputation of a rake their brother had would please Lady Guinevere any more than it pleased Miss Kate Sharma, even at the prospect of a title. "I suppose they could suit, even if I think Anthony would drive himself to madness with such a prim and proper wife."

Benedict certainly couldn't imagine life beside such a person, after all, he was far from the most conventional of gentlemen, not to mention his family was hardly so formal.

But he and Anthony were always different in their desires, and even if Benedict thought Anthony needed someone of wilder spirits to contend with, he could hardly change his brother's mind.

"She is reserved, I'll admit," Colin replied. "But seemed nice enough, very duty oriented, but isn't that precisely what Anthony is?"

The biggest issue was that Colin's good opinion was not a hard thing to acquire, he was free with his affections, but Benedict would trust his judgment, he was the only one of them that actually knew the lady in question.

"We'll plant the idea in his head after things blow up with the Misses Sharma, if only to stop his sulking when that happens," Colin remarked.

Benedict had a feeling that would be sooner rather than later.

To see their home decked out in decorations and the music room filled with chairs and a small stage gave Benedict a sense of appreciation for how much his mother planned and fussed, for it truly looked transformed.

"Benedict!" He turned to face Eloise, who was approaching him rather faster than she should be blue to manage with her shoes.

"Yes, sister?"

"Sit beside me during the musicale, I fear mama has orchestrated something to place me next to an unattached gentleman, and I can hardly avoid conversation when sitting beside someone for a whole hour!"

Benedict would be amused if he didn't suspect his mother had also sat him beside an unmarried young lady, and so he readily agreed.

"We shall sit in the very front where talking would be seen as rude, just in case," he remarked, and Eloise took his arm with a grin.

"That is why you're my favorite brother."

They were quick to snatch the upfront seats, and when their mother saw them already sitting down instead of mingling amongst the guests, they were the recipients of her glare. But she could hardly scold them in public, so Benedict felt safe enough for the time being.

As the lights dimmed and the opera singer came on stage, Benedict felt obliged to pay attention. Oh, if his mother knew how this woman had been involved with Anthony mere months prior, Benedict was certain she would've never been hired. But she was a lovely singer, and it brought to attention how the Dowager Viscountess never did anything by halves.

"Eloise, Benedict," their mother spoke suddenly, standing in front of them mere minutes after the ambient became brighter and people began to leave their seats to converse. "Would you please stand by me while we talk to guests? I wish to have some company."

Her smile was sweet but sickenly so, the type that gave them the message that it was far from a request, but a demand. Violet Bridgerton always knew how to wrangle her children to do what she wanted, and rarely had she ever needed to raise her voice to do so.

"Of course, Mother," Benedict replied, nudging Eloise with his elbow when she remained glued to her seat.

With a pointed look at her, Benedict managed to get Eloise to accept his help in getting up, and for good measure, he wrapped her arm around his so she couldn't make a break for it.

"If I have to do this, then so do you," he whispered through his teeth in a fake smile as they walked behind their mother toward some guests.

As their mother was approached by guests time and time again, they cordially stood by the Viscountess and partook in polite conversation. Benedict even got to meet the illustrious gatekeeper of Miss Edwina Sharma, the woman who so incensed his elder brother. Benedict had to say he found her none of the things Anthony had, Miss Kate had been perfectly nice and even engaged Eloise in conversation.

"Lady Hallmere," his mother greeted as a blond woman approached, with another following behind. "How wonderful of you to come. I hope you were pleased by the performance."

Lady Hallmere smiled, making her strong features soften. "It was wonderful, you have very good taste, Lady Bridgerton." She gestures to the young woman who was now by her side. "Have you had the opportunity to meet my sister, Lady Guinevere Bedwyn?"

"No, but it is a pleasure to do so," his mother replied, smiling at the girl, who curtseyed before greeting her, the picture-perfect of properness.

"The pleasure is mine, Lady Bridgerton."

Benedict noted that the sisters did not bear much resemblance, not only for they were of different colorings — one of blonde hair and blue eyes and the other with dark hair and brown eyes — but their countenances differed quite a bit as well. Where Lady Hallmere held a sense of carefreeness with her actions and words, as well as posturing, Lady Guinevere was perfectly poised and rather stiff with her movements, as if every one was calculated beforehand.

"And this is my daughter, Miss Eloise Bridgerton, and my son, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton," his mother introduced them, and Lady Hallmere was quick to address them.

"How do you do, Miss Bridgerton? It is your first season, no?"

Eloise smiled, and Benedict was glad that it didn't come out as a grimace. "Very well, and yes, indeed. My very first venture into London society."

Benedict pressed his lips so as not to smile at the hidden words that Eloise certainly wanted to utter about her true thoughts, and so almost didn't notice when he himself was addressed.

"Mr. Bridgerton. I believe you know one of my brothers." At Lady Hallmere's remark, Benedict turned his attention to the interaction.

"Indeed, Rannulf. I have seen him this week, in fact, at White's. We have been friends since Eton."

As he conversed with the Marchioness, the polite but rather shallow pleasantries a rehearsed dance he had always been well instructed in, Benedict couldn't help but glance at Lady Guinevere. He was curious, a sense of wanting to ascertain if Colin's suggestion had any merit to them.

She had a graceful bearing, her head held high with a posture that spoke of her position. Her dark hair was in an updo that showed her neck where a simple but tasteful necklace rested, and the lights of the candles reflected in her curls. Her face had high cheekbones, a straight nose, different from the slightly hooked one of her sister, and large eyes, a  color not unlike that of her hair. She was fashionably dressed, in a gown he was sure was one of Madame Delacroix's, a deep blue that contrasted well with her complexion, along with white gloves that went to her elbows, and a fan in a lighter shade of blue than that of her dress.

She was not a participant in the conversion that her sister held, merely fanning herself and looking about at the same time, but one could tell she heard every word that was said. For a moment, Benedict was pleasantly surprised by her smiling, for it gave lie to the notion that she was as cold as a marble statue.

But another glance made him realize it was less of a smile and more of a mask, for it did not reach her eyes.

As his mother engaged Lady Guinevere in conversation, not once did her countenance change, as if no words or actions were worthy of eliciting a response. Her manners were perfect, but Benedict could only think of how lacking in emotion she was. He couldn't agree with Colin in the regard that she and Anthony would suit, his brother might be bound by duty, and that sometimes made him a bore, but Anthony felt deeply, and all that life beside someone like her would do was stifle him.

Benedict did not think badly of the girl, of course not, but there simply was a matter of compatibility.

Love was not something one could force.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊
benedict is a romantic and that comes with certain prejudices
sparks and falling in love at glance are things one might expect, but that is often not the reality
sometimes you have to know someone before you love them

also, adapting show scenes is pure chaos, my netflix is so confused