An Offer From a Gentleman

“Entirely upon your father,” Lady Bridgerton replied jauntily. She turned to Sophie. “They all look just like my late husband.”

Sophie knew she should remain silent, but the moment was so lovely and comfortable that she said, “I think your son  resembles you.”

“Do you think?” Lady Bridgerton asked, clasping her hands together with delight. “How lovely. And here I’ve always just considered myself a vessel for the Bridgerton family.”

“Mother!” Benedict said.

She sighed. “Am I speaking too plainly? I do that more and more in my old age.”

“You are hardly elderly, Mother,” She smiled. “Benedict, why don’t you go visit with your sisters while I take your Miss Bennett—”

“Beckett,” he interrupted.

“Yes, of course, Beckett,” she murmured. “I shall take her upstairs and get her settled in.”

“You need only take me to the housekeeper,” Sophie said. It was most odd for a lady of the house to concern herself  with the hiring of a housemaid. Granted, the entire situation was unusual, what with Benedict asking that she be hired on,  but it was very strange that Lady Bridgerton would take a personal interest in her.

“Mrs. Watkins is busy, I’m sure,” Lady Bridgerton said. “Besides, I believe we have need for another lady’s maid upstairs. Have you any experience in that area?”

Sophie nodded.

“Excellent. I thought you might. You speak very well.”

“My mother was a housekeeper,” Sophie said automatically. “She worked for a very generous family and—” She broke off  in horror, belatedly remembering that she’d told Benedict the truth—that her mother had died at her birth. She shot him a nervous look, and he answered it with a vaguely mocking tilt of his chin, silently telling her that he wasn’t going to expose her lie.

“The family she worked for was very generous,” Sophie continued, a relieved rush of air passing across her lips, “and they allowed me to share many lessons with the daughters of the house.”

“I see,” Lady Bridgerton said. “That explains a great deal. I find it difficult to believe you’ve been toiling as a housemaid. You are clearly educated enough to pursue loftier positions.”

“She reads quite well,” Benedict said.

Sophie looked to him in surprise.

He ignored her, instead saying to his mother, “She read to me a great deal during my recuperation.”

“Do you write, as well?” Lady Bridgerton asked.

Sophie nodded. “My penmanship is quite neat.”

“Excellent. It is always handy to have an extra pair of hands at my disposal when we are addressing invitations. And we do have a ball coming up later in the summer. I have two girls out this year,” she explained to Sophie. “I’m hopeful that one of  them will choose a husband before the season is through.”

“I don’t think Eloise wants to marry,” Benedict said.

“Quiet your mouth,” Lady Bridgerton said.

“Such a statement is sacrilege around here,” Benedict said to Sophie.

“Don’t listen to him,” Lady Bridgerton said, walking toward the stairs. “Here, come with me, Miss Beckett. What did you  say your given name was?”

“Sophia. Sophie.”

“Come with me, Sophie. I’ll introduce you to the girls. And,” she added, her nose crinkling with distaste, “we’ll find you something new to wear. I cannot have one of our maids dressed so shabbily. A person would think we didn’t pay you a  fair wage.”

It had never been Sophie’s experience that members of the ton were concerned about paying their servants fairly, and  she was touched by Lady Bridgerton’s generosity.

“You,” Lady Bridgerton said to Benedict. “Wait for me downstairs. We have much to discuss, you and I.”

“I’m quaking in my boots,” he deadpanned.

“Between him and his brother, I don’t know which one of them will kill me first,” Lady Bridgerton muttered.

“Which brother?” Sophie asked.

“Either. Both. All three. Scoundrels, the lot of them.”

But they were scoundrels she clearly loved. Sophie could hear it in the way she spoke, see it in her eyes when they lit  with joy upon seeing her son.

And it made Sophie lonely and wistful and jealous. How different her life might have been had her mother lived through childbirth. They might have been unrespectable, Mrs. Beckett a mistress and Sophie a bastard, but Sophie liked to think  that her mother would have loved her.

Which was more than she received from any other adult, her father included.

“Come along, Sophie,” Lady Bridgerton said briskly.

Sophie followed her up the stairs, wondering why, if she were merely about to begin a new job, she felt as if she were  entering a new family.

It felt... nice.

And it had been a long, long while since her life had felt nice.

Chapter 14

Rosamund Reiling swears that she saw Benedict Bridgerton back in London. This Author is inclined  to believe the veracity of the account; Miss Reiling can spot an unmarried bachelor at fifty faces.

Unfortunately for Miss Reiling, she can’t seem to land one.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 12 MAY 1817

Benedict had barely taken two steps toward the sitting room when his sister Eloise came dashing down the hall. Like all  the Bridgertons, she had thick, chestnut hair and a wide smile. Unlike Benedict, however, her eyes were a clear, deep green—the exact shade possessed by their brother Colin.