The Rain Is Always Gonna Come

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict finally did as he said he would -- twice -- and sent for help. He did not want to leave Genevieve in the house alone, but he waited downstairs . . . needing to regain himself before he went back up there. And with any luck, by the time that happened, he would not be alone. Benedict took the time to quickly clean things up downstairs, not out of necessity but more to busy himself and distract his mind. He dumped the now coloured water from the bowl into a bucket, and tossed the stained cloth that he had used to clean her. He left the contents of the bowl where he had dumped them. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Time passed incredibly slowly it would seem, though Benedict lost track of it entirely at the same time. Fortunately, a knock at the door could not have come sooner, and he hurried towards it, opening it to reveal the very man that he had sent for. "Thank you for coming." At this late hour and with haste. The unspoken but hopefully understood words. Benedict stepped to the side so Lewis could enter, closing the door behind him. He knew Lewis was good in his role, but more so, he felt as if he could trust him to be discreet. Benedict did not wish to waste any time but also needed to give Lewis quick insight into what happened. "My friend--" The word now seemed so odd to say when before, it had come with ease -- even if they did things that seemed to exceed the label of friends. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "She um . . . " Benedict's gaze dropped a little, looking past Lewis as his mind went to her circumstance. Haunting images of what the others had done to her to create such markings upon her body and cause her such pain. Trying to regain himself, for the sake of time, he met Lewis' gaze. "She is a victim of a mugging." That was all he could bring himself to say, unable to gather the strength to describe her injuries. Lewis would see it for himself. Benedict's voice quiet, his demeanor more somber than any previous meeting he had with Lewis. So with that brief description, Benedict continued to say "Please, follow me," before leading Lewis upstairs to where Genevieve was. Tag Lewis Anwyl & lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

Lewis was no stranger to late night professional calls. His work at the hospital might end once he left for the evening, but any surgeon who wanted to make a decent living in London had to build up a stock of private clients, and anyone wealthy enough to pay for a home visit was entitled enough to expect their needs met as soon as they snapped their fingers. He could not always blame them, in all fairness: after all, broken bones and bleeding wounds paid no heed to the hour of day, and time was often of the essence in extreme cases. 

The knocking of the messenger had not surprised him, therefore, but the name of the client had. Benedict might very well be wealthy as any of his clients — wealthier than most, truth be told — but he had never struck Lewis as frivolous or entitled. If he was calling upon Lewis' services at this hour, it must be for something quite serious. He had wasted no time, therefore, in donning his coat, fetching his bag, and hastening to the Englishman's home. 

The state in which he found Benedict, upon his arrival, only confirmed his suspicions as to the serious nature of tonight's call. Benedict himself looked quite healthy, at least in body, but he had distress written plainly all over his face. His explanation made more sense of that matter: it was not for his own sake that he had sent for medical help, but for the sake of a friend. Lewis' own countenance remained grave as he listened. A mugging could mean anything from a light scrapes to shattered bones — and judging by Benedict's demeanour, Lewis was inclined to guess it might lean more towards the latter. He said nothing, but nodded sympathetically and fell into step behind Benedict as the man led him up to the unfortunate friend in question. 

OWL

[lennie3]

Genevieve remained seated on the bed, fingers twisting together nervously in her lap. Feeling nervous around Benedict was strange, she had hardly ever felt that way around him. The moment they met she had been intrigued, yet briefly doubting he would be any different than the older brother she wasn't very fond of, her feelings around him had changed over time. What she felt had become dangerously blissful, happiness in its most simplistic form as they shared a bed; as they shared laughter and secrets. They had shared so much and just how close they had gotten was the issue, it was the idiotic wish to be with him Genevieve had not been able to allow herself to indulge in. She had sworn to herself from the beginning Benedict would not be a man she needed, that she would not need any man.

Now look at her, she needed him more than she wanted to admit.

Benedict return and Genevieve stood immediately, the large dress shirt falling down her frame, fingers twisting over the hem nervously, her gaze snapping to his before taking note of the physician following through the doorway. She recognised him, gossiping women were good for much and one thing they did perfectly was ensure Genevieve knew who she needed to know in London, she offered a polite smile and nod, "Doctor Anwyl, my apologies that you had to come with such short notice," she said, her gaze flitting between the physician and her former lover, letting Lewis see the light bruising over her face and the small cut on her brow no longer bleeding, small scrapes littered across her skin.

Genevieve was still not completely convinced she needed to be seen by a physcian. Perhaps it was the concern she had seen on Benedict's features which made her willing to be seen by one, or perhaps because maybe it would help the tension between them to not be alone. Though maybe most importantly Genevieve had seen the rage flash through his eyes when he realised she was hurt, and men did such stupid things when angered, the idea of Benedict trying to find those who did this to her and getting himself hurt caused her more pain than her injuries. If Lewis Anwyl needed to tell them she was going to become the picture of perfect health within short for Benedict to remain safe she would happily oblige.

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[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

The sight that Lewis had expected to find upstairs certainly did not match the reality. Considering the grave expression on Benedict's face at the door and the haste he had urged in his summons, Lewis expected to find someone with a few broken bones, at the very least. 

Instead, what he found was a woman rather indecently clothed. He was far from the most perceptive of men when it came to working out the relationships of the ton, but this tableau made it plain that 'friend' might not have been the most accurate of terms for Benedict to use. Her dress may very well have been ruined in the mugging, which was natural enough to expect, but a friend like Benedict could have easily found a spare maid's garments for her to don. The fact that she was clothed in a shirt of his own, barely reaching her knees, suggested... well, Lewis would not have liked to contemplate what it suggested. 

Clearing his throat rather uncomfortably, the surgeon discarded his hat on the dresser by the door and crossed the room towards the bed. However awkward this situation might be, he was a medical man, and he had been called here to attend to a patient. Even if that patient only seemed to bear a few scrapes and bruises, he had a responsibility to ensure that she was well. Once he had set his coat and bag aside, he took his place beside the bed and gently coaxed her chin up to inspect the cut on her forehead. "No apology necessary, madam. Mr. Bridgerton tells me you were mugged — you stand upright well enough, so I trust you have no broken bones?" 

OWL

[lennie3]

Genevieve prided herself in being at the very least the slightest bit perceptive. She did not need to be very good at reading people to take notice of the disbelief flashing across the physician's features as he saw her standing quite well on her own. His reaction was of course understandable, Benedict was a prominent enough member of the ton no one would have missed if he had taken a wife, and as he had not, she clearly was not his wife so for her to stand in his chambers, hair loosely braided and dressed in his clothing most definitely made Lewis's reaction nothing but reasonable.

At the mention of Benedict's name Genevieve's eyes flitted back to the man in question, her gaze lingering over his frame and the world around her disappeared for a brief moment before Lewis called her back to it. She looked to him quickly, hair whipping around to fall over her shoulder, tendrils of dark curls falling loose from the braid, and she nodded. "Yes, I was conducting some business and I'm afraid I encountered the wrong sorts of people," she explained, but she knew Lewis did not require or deserve the same explanation to her injuries Benedict had, no Lewis needed an explanation of her injuries, "I believe it is only some bruising, and a few cuts," her gaze flicked back to Benedict directing her words at him more than the doctor, "I'm sure it is nothing serious," she looked back to Lewis, "but I appreciate you taking a look, Doctor Anwyl."

She heard herself how dismissive her own words sounded, how she did not make it seem as if her injuries in the slightest went above anything Benedict would have needed to call upon a physician for. Genevieve sighed, swallowing and for a moment she cast her gaze down before the mask was firm across her features once more. "My ribs are bothering me quite a bit, my breathing does not feel impedimented however walking has proved rather uncomfortable."

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[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

As Lewis entered the room, Benedict remained at the entrance of it, leaning against the doorframe as he simply watched from this distance. Truth was, he was unsure whether Guinevere would be more comfortable being examined with him absent, or present. An ironic thought, considering he had cleaned the blood and tended to her within his capacity. But at the same time . . . there was another male now present. Certainly, it would shift things. At the same time, he did not want to leave her nor let her out of his sight. He wanted to hear the extent of her injuries and to see if there was anything that Benedict could do to further help. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ She would already be spending the night here so he would not need to worry about her having to make the journey home -- even if it was not incredibly far. Nor wonder what to give her to wear, which, Benedict knew was part of the reason he required discretion from the surgeon. The maid would return in the morning and Benedict could get her fresh clothes. For now however, Benedict simply remained focus on her. Genevieve's eyes going to Benedict was all the assurance he needed that perhaps . . . it was indeed alright for him to be here. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ So he used that to take a step into the room, and another. He was closer, but still leaving adequate distance so not to disrupt the examination. Benedict folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the wall, listening to her explain where it hurt, how it hurt. How any could remain calm upon seeing a woman bruised and injured at the hands of men . . . was curious. Though, as a professional in one's field, also made sense. Yet all he could do in this moment was watch, listen, and be ready should there be anything, anything at all he could do to help her situation. Tag Lewis Anwyl & lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

Genevieve was right to presume that Lewis neither required nor desired an explanation of how she'd sustained the wounds. It was enough to know that she'd been mugged — that told him all he needed to know. It was the sort of thing, unfortunately, that happened rather frequently in London. Really, she was lucky that she hadn't come away any worse than she had. 

Her mention of rib pain was mildly concerning, but given that she had clarified that she had no difficulty breathing, it did not seem likely that she had broken any. A little pain while walking was to be expected, with this level of bruising. As he contemplated whether it was worth taking a closer look at the ribs, he had to force himself not to turn his head with a disapproving look at the sound of Benedict's footsteps creeping closer behind him. This would not be the first time a friend or relative refused to leave him alone to do his examination, but it was just as annoying and bothersome every time. 

With Herculean effort, he managed to keep his expression neutral and resolved to hold his tongue unless Benedict decided to properly interfere. If he merely chose to hover, that was irksome, but bearable. Dropping his hand from her chin, he instructed, "Keep your hips steady and twist your upper body for me, would you? Left then right. Tell me if that worsens the pain in your ribs at any point."

OWL

[lennie3]

She forced her attentions to the physician, the poor doctor had had to leave the comfort of his home for a job which thus far did not seem to cause him too much concern. That was a good thing, she reminded herself, if Lewis had broken into a more panicked state at the sight of her that would have meant she had probably looked worse than she thought. Genevieve thought it was bad enough with the bruising across her dark skin and the blood drying in her brow. It was nice the only medical professional in the room was managing to stay calm.

Nodding Genevieve did as he asked of her, holding her hips steady she twisted her torso from side to side. She did so slowly, trying her best not to rush through the motion, not sure if she was afraid it would hurt more or if it would mean she would miss the pain. It ached, slightly, not much, not more than she could manage. "No," Genevieve confirmed shaking her head, "a slight ache but, that may only be the bruising, could it not?" 

In an attempt to escape her own nerves she looked away from the doctor, letting her eyes instead fall to Benedict stepping further into the room. It had been impossible not to feel his gaze on her as she moved, almost as impossible as it was to not let her attention linger on him. She exhaled softly, "no pain breathing either, I presume that would be rather painful with a broken rib," she said, and they were probably words she should have said looking at the physician and yet Genevieve's eyes didn't leave the other man. It was not Lewis she felt the need to reassure, he was a doctor, he could see whether or not she was seriously injured on his own, no it was Benedict hovering at the door with a concerned frown on his face she was more concerned about.

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[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

Lewis watched carefully as Genevieve obediently twisted her torso from one side to the other. She kept her movements slow, but she showed no outward display of pain, which was comforting to see. Difficulty breathing would have been the most obvious indication of broken bones, but pain during movement could still suggest smaller fractures. The absence of that pain was a very good sign. 

And still Benedict interfered, whether he meant to do so or not. He had not moved any closer to the two of them, but he still remained a bothersome presence — as long as he remained in the room, Genevieve seemed more inclined to address her remarks to him instead of to Lewis. The niggling sense of annoyance that had started to grow in the surgeon's chest swelled only faster. Really, he had half a mind to ask the two of them why on earth they had sent for him in the first place. Their problems seemed to lie far more in whatever tension they weren't addressing between themselves as opposed to any physical complaints. 

Benedict, however, was a wealthy patron, and even Lewis, taciturn though he might be, knew better than to insult such a fellow. Making great effort once again to keep his expression neutral, he turned aside from Genevieve to fix his gaze on Benedict. "Mr. Bridgerton," he said, ensuring that his tone was as polite and pleasant as possible, "I believe your friend and I would benefit from a bit of privacy for this examination. Perhaps you would be so kind as to fetch the lady some brandy, to steady her nerves?" 

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict's eyes remained on Geneveieve's as she continued to explain her injury, saying that there was no broken ribs. Benedict was listening, and yet, not at the same time. He knew she was not technically talking to him, but he could not help but keep his eyes upon her and . . . perhaps it was more what she did not say that he was merely focused on. Entranced by. Emotions that neither of them had clearly dealt with since . . . their departure from one another. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ One that had presumed to be permanent only now, it proved it was not. And all that rush of emotions came flooding back. This, coupled with Benedict's unspoken fear of how something far worse could have happened to her. This, was bad enough, but what if it had been something more? The fear and concern only further validation that clearly, this was not over. Nor would it be so quick to heal. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ The silence that fell in the room wasn't even immediately recognized by Benedict for several moments, until he could somehow feel it. Feel Lewis' eyes on him expectantly. Benedict quickly snapped out of it, breaking his locked gaze with the modiste and instead, looking at the surgeon. Had he said something to him? Words belatedly processed in his mind. "Oh," he quickly stated. "Yes um . . . " He didn't want to leave her but if this was best . . . "Of course." And yet his feet seemed planted in place. Looking at her once more, he uncrossed his arms and casually moved himself off the wall. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He was no fool -- contrary to what current circumstances may otherwise suggest. He knew that he could not just quickly grab a class of brandy and return. He would need to give her her privacy, as Lewis requested. Looking at her once more, and giving a nod to Lewis in understanding -- and acceptance -- Benedict practically forced himself to leave the room, not stopping from his movements until he was down the stairs. He feared anywhere closer would just draw him back to where they both were and clearly, that not where he was preferred to be. Tag Lewis Anwyl & lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

It would not have taken a detective to work out that Benedict was only leaving with extreme reluctance. To be fair to the man, Lewis supposed he could hardly blame him — even if Genevieve's injuries were objectively very minor, she had still been attacked, which was more than enough to justify Benedict's excessive concern. He did not know what Genevieve's connection was to him — not a wife, certainly, or he would have heard about that — but she clearly mattered a great deal. 

It was a relief, however, to have the man gone. Better for Benedict to take some time to compose himself, fetch the brandy, and come back to a fine dose of good news. Once the sound of receding footsteps had faded their way down the stairs, the surgeon turned back to Genevieve. 

"Right." His tone of voice was still polite, but there was a slight note of relief in it, too. Far easier for the both of them to focus now that Benedict was not a constant, hovering presence. With any luck, she would cooperate a little better instead of sending longing glances over his shoulder. "Now, I believe we have addressed the ribs well enough — as long as you have no difficulty breathing and no pain with movement, I doubt you have any breaks. Have you any other major injuries?"

OWL

[lennie3]

She didn't voice her complaint when Lewis suggested she might need some brandy to calm her nerves. Genevieve was not sure anything could calm her nerves around Benedict at this point, or if alcohol was a good idea. But even more so she did not want him to leave the room, if anything his presence had been the one thing in recent hours which had made her feel safe. It did not take much however to tell there was an underlying tension to the physician's polite suggestion; he wanted Benedict to leave the room. On a professional level Genevieve could appreciate it, she knew how hard it could be to do her own job with mothers hovering and making whispered comments about how they did not like the particular colour their daughter had their eye on. Genevieve had lost count how many times she had watched a young woman's hopes for a particular coloured gown die for her to instead settle on what her mama wanted for her.

But while she did not complain Genevieve sucked her lower lip between her teeth, sucking in a breath as Benedict reluctantly kicked off from the wall to leave the room. She did not need, nor did she want brandy. She wanted him to stay. Pressing her lips together tightly seemed to be the only way she could manage not to protest against him leaving. It could not have been easy for Lewis to do his job. As much as she wanted Benedict to stay she needed to respect the professional attempting to his job, especially when his job was ensuring she was not injured too badly.

Genevieve tore her gaze from the now empty doorway to look to the doctor, "yes, thank you," she agreed with a small nod, but Lewis' words echoed through her mind, "I do not know if it matters much but, Mr Bridgerton helped me clean a cut on my forehead, it was bleeding more when I arrived," Genevieve revealed, he was a physician after all, he needed to know of all her injuries in order to help her, she could not sow a dress for someone without having their measurements, "I do not have any further injuries, my attackers were simply after money, they became... displeased, when they were informed I was not carrying much of it."

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[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

If Lewis noticed her displeasure at Benedict's departure from the room, he made no remark on the matter. To some extent, a good bedside manner was a necessity for any medical professional, but a patient's feelings could not win out over their physical well-being. It was plain enough that Benedict was a distraction to her; even if that distraction was more of a nuisance than a genuine threat, it was still better to dispense with it. She would survive ten minutes without him, Lewis was sure. 

At least her lack of pain had not entirely been feigned for her friend's benefit. Given how much her attention had been fixed on reassuring Benedict, Lewis had worried that she might, on some level, be concealing the actual extent of her injuries in order to keep the Englishman from growing too concerned. Her demeanour, however, did not change a great deal once Benedict was out of the room, which was comforting to see. 

Once more, he tipped her chin up to inspect the head wound, taking time to check her pupil dilation and eye movement as well. Thankfully, the wound itself was not deep enough that it would require further treatment, and she displayed no obvious signs of a concussion. As he tipped her head to the side to inspect the extent of the bruising, the faintest hint of a smile, which did not quite reach his eyes, flitted across his lips. "Well, Mr. Bridgerton's concern was slightly exaggerated, I think. I expected to find you on death's doorstep." 

OWL

[lennie3]

It hit her she did not actually know what message Benedict had sent to the surgeon in order to get him to pay a home visit at this time of night. But his words made it seem perhaps her injuries had either been slightly exaggerated and it explained the disbelief the doctor had seemed to show of his mere presence in the house. Genevieve felt her skin flush, offering an apologetic smile as Lewis ensured the injury on her head would not need any further dressing.

The least she could do since the doctor had come all the way to Benedict's home was to follow his instructions as he tended to her. "I am sorry, if you rushed away from something important to get here," she insisted, "I'm sure Mr Bridgerton was simply concerned, our own lack of medical training made it more difficult than it was for you to determine how superficial my injuries seem to actually be," the smile she offered was polite, carefully constructed across her features to remain small and not pull too much at her face. Her injuries may have been superficial but it did not mean the bruising did not hurt when her muscles shifted below her skin and Genevieve would avoid it if she could.

She moved her head with the direction of his touch, tilting her chin to allow him a better look at her wounds. "Is there anything I should think of especially during the next few days, or even weeks?" She asked, it seemed the least she could do was to at the very least ask Lewis a few questions since he had made the journey. Considering how he had seemed it had been a journey he had had to perform in a rush as well.

tag Benedict Bridgerton & Lewis Anwyl .

[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

If Lewis had wished to be rather blunt, he might have pointed out that Benedict had called upon him at a rather late hour. The only important matter that this house call had taken him away from was the matter of a good night's sleep. Granted, he had not actually been asleep when Benedict's message had arrived, but it was more about the principle of the thing. It would take a fair amount of time to find a cab and make his way back home once his business was concluded here, and he did have hospital work to conduct in the morning. 

He held his tongue, however. His own disgruntlement aside, he knew it was not Genevieve's fault that Benedict had decided that a few scrapes and bruises warranted the attention of a surgeon. If anything, Genevieve seemed rather embarrassed about the whole matter, and she seemed to share Lewis' opinion that this really was not serious enough to require medical attention. There was no sense in being rude to her over any of this. 

He let that matter lie, for now. Letting his hand drop back down, he stepped aside and bent down to rummage in an outer pocket of his bag. When he straightened back up, he presented a small vial to her. "You may take a small measure of laudanum, to ease the pain for tonight. That cut above your eye should heal well enough on its own, but I would recommend forgoing a corset for the next few days to ensure that the ribs heal without discomfort. And, ah..." How to tactfully put this? "You should... refrain from any, er... strenuous activities. Physically speaking."

OWL