Pain is Weakness for Benedict

[Rose Fletcher]

Pain is Weakness

Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

Tag: Rose Fletcher

i' m    n o t    b o u n d    b y 

THE RULES OF SOCIETY

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23. with a twisted ankle

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It was not easy to find a quiet place within the Bridgerton estate. Fortunately, the task was made a tad bit easier due to their visitor. A seamstress had come for the Bridgerton daughters were getting custom gowns made. So at least half of the siblings were upstairs. Anthony was out, Colin was traveling and Gregory was with his tutor. So yes. A secluded place was much easier found, which allowed the second son to practice his sketches. A quiet space did wonders for Benedict in terms of concentration and -- THUD -- . It seems he had spoke too soon. He quickly scrambled to his feet, setting aside his sketchpad as he opened the doors of the parlor to reveal someone on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. The seamstress.

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It did not take a genius to deduce what happened as Benedict hurried toward the young woman. "Miss--" He didn't know her name. "Are you alright?" He crouched down beside her, inquiring to see how coherent she was. She appeared to be still conscious, which was a relief in itself. Raising his gaze to a servant who had also heard the noise and come rushing, Benedict gave instruction. "Send for a doctor." Because that slip sounded bad enough that it was best they get her checked out.

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[Rose Fletcher]

source tagged Benedict Bridgerton words 348 notes

There were four Bridgerton girls in need of new gowns, and though they seemed like perfectly nice girls, some of them were incapable of standing still as she took their measurements. It wasn't that she was not capable of working in such conditions, even when the youngest had twisted in order to observe something her older sister was saying, and Rose had caught herself with the pin she'd been attempting to fix in place.  It had however, grown increasingly frustrating until finally she had finished with each of them and bid them farewell. Rose felt relief once she was out of the room, away from the constant chatter and headed for the stairs.  She had been an only child growing up, and though she had often wondered what life might be like with siblings of her own, now she could see that it could be exhausting. Descending the stairs, her mind preoccupied by the work that she would need to start the moment she returned, she was not paying attention to where she was placing her feet. Rose felt her ankle twist painfully as she missed a step and before she could hope to catch herself, she felt herself falling. Something resembling a yelp escaped her as she fell, landing at the bottom of the stairs with a groan. Hurried footsteps sounded from nearby and the next moment a gentleman had crouched beside her, inquiring about her wellbeing. For a moment she was too stunned to speak, whether that was due to the fall or the fact that he seemed genuinely concerned for her wellbeing was yet to be seen. "I'm alright sir, there's isn't need to make a fuss" she insisted, finding her voice and sitting up so she did not look a complete fool. "I just twisted my ankle, my own stupid fault but it'll be fine in a minute" wincing as she straightened her leg and attempted to stand.  "It doesn't even hurt much, honest!" now if she could just figure out how to move past him without arousing suspicion that she was being untruthful.

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[Benedict Bridgerton]

Tag: Rose Fletcher

i' m    n o t    b o u n d    b y 

THE RULES OF SOCIETY

Benedict was relieved to see that the woman was at least coherent. That there was no injury that would compromise her speech or thought as she was able to promptly respond. Then came her attempt to stand. Benedict remained near, rising to a stand as she did, staying close in case she required support. He carefully watched to see where she shifted most of her body weight -- presumably on the uninjured foot.

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How could he in good conscience send her out when she may not be able to even walk with ease? "Maybe not," he told her, knowing he could not exactly argue with her regarding her pain. He could not actually know whether it hurt or not -- but rather, merely assume. Besides, he did not wish to argue nor tell her what she should do or how she should feel.

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"But perhaps we should allow a doctor to take a look nevertheless?" He asked, rather than demanded. "It would be safest." To have it checked rather than wait for the injury could grow worse. "Would you permit me to assist you to the drawing room?" If she was in agreement -- the latter words unspoken though hopefully understood. Despite her being of a lower rank, he was still a gentleman and would not touch a woman -- even in attempt to help -- without them granting him permission.

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