Ben Meaning To See You

[Lewis Anwyl]

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

Lewis was grateful that Benedict finally spoke up to save him from his desperate stammering, but he was rather taken aback that the man's interruption came in such a flat-out denial. He did not seem defensive — on the contrary, he sounded perfectly matter-of-fact — but he certainly did not beat around the bush in confronting what Lewis had implied. The surgeon flushed; he was inclined, by instinct, to respond with a denial of his own, insisting that he had not meant to call Genevieve his mistress. To do so, however, would have been an outright lie. 

In any case, the matter of whether he had or had not implied the thing was rather beside the point. Implications or no implications, the point was that Lewis believed it. Benedict's denial, well-stated though it was, did little to change that. He would not have liked to accuse the man openly of being untruthful, but really, there were few other ways to explain what Lewis had seen that night. A modiste was not likely to simply turn up on the doorstep of a wealthy young gentleman; and, if she did so, she was not likely to find him willing to clothe her in his own shirt and lay her down in his own bed; and, even if all that were to occur, said young gentleman was certainly not likely to grow so agitated over a few cuts and bruises that he sent in the middle of the night for a surgeon. No, that was the sort of thing that a man did for either a wife or a mistress, and Genevieve Delacroix was not the former. 

Nevertheless, he held his tongue. He had already embarrassed himself quite thoroughly enough; he had no wish, in consequence, to embarrass himself further. If Benedict wished to deny that she was his mistress, Lewis could pretend to believe it. He had no interest in the affairs of the ton, in any case. If he found anything distasteful, it was the fact that Benedict had involved him in the matter in the first place. 

He downed the rest of his brandy in one swallow, nearly coughed, and set aside his empty glass. He was rather inclined to refill it himself, but he was not quite such an intimate friend of Benedict's to justify helping himself to the man's liquor. "Forgive my presumptions, Mr. Bridgerton. It was not my place. Of course she is not your— well. Not my place." He cleared his throat hard and tried weakly for a little self-deprecating humour. "I tell you, sir, London society really is no place for a lowborn Welshman!"  

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict had not been offended nor upset by Lewis's former words . . . but the ones he spoke now, were the ones that would disappoint Benedict. Though, the second son made no show of it. He maintained his composure, though the words were indeed felt. Apology was expected he supposed, knowing it was the polite thing to do when one may have been told something other than what they presumed. For him to say it was not his place . . . Benedict of course disagreed with that, for he welcomed honesty regardless of where a person came from. But, it was his latter spoken words, of referring to himself as a lowborn Welshmen that disappointed him. It may be mere fact, but Benedict had never judged one on their rank in society. It made a person no less, nor have any less belonging in London society. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He could certainly see how this mindset was hardly one of popularity among the ton, but at least among friends. Among those he chose to socialize with -- willingly and enjoyed the company of . . . he did not want rank to ever be a barrier. "If we are indeed friends, then it is your place," he told him. He could only hope the man did not mean that he felt it was not his place because of the status difference. Had he thought it out of pure desire to not want to talk about it, then that was an entirely different matter. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You are free to speak your mind here. In fact, I encourage you to," he continued to say. "Without need for forgiveness or fear of repercussions. I know I have asked much of you, but I would also ask this of you." That he be honest and not feel as if he had to silence his tongue. Taking the last sip of his drink, Benedict rose to refill Lewis's glass and then his own, before positioning himself back comfortably in his chair. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "London society has many faults," Benedict began to say. "Stifling a person from being able to speak freely is one that I find most troubling." A conversation that touched on a former one they had, about expectations of conversations. "But it does not make one less worthy of being among it." Among society. As Benedict previously acknowledged, he knew his views of equality -- if it could even be called that -- were not overly common nor expected of nobility. But it was not only how he was raised, but also, how he perceived things. He did not wish for Lewis to think low of himself, at least not where Benedict could tell him otherwise in each other's company. Tag Lewis Anwyl Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

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

Lewis had scarcely even thought about the remark. To him, that sort of self-deprecation came rather naturally: most of London society was ready with barbs about either his nationality or his profession, and if he had learned that if he made the quips at his own expense, that tended to rob those barbs of a bit of their sting. At least then, he could frame the matter as though they were laughing with him, not at him. 

Benedict's earnest rebuttal, however, stunned him. From his first day in London, back when he had still been naïve and fresh-faced, the city had looked down on him and spat at his feet; English society, for now, was content to let the Welshmen be as long as they stuck to their fields and their shipping ports, but nobody wished to see them in London, especially not one from the rural communities. A fine, English-speaking Welshman from Cardiff was tolerable enough, but one from Pwllheli, with a thick accent and terrible manners, was unthinkable. 

And if that had not been enough, his chosen profession had made things all the more difficult. He had come to London — stupid, young, and green — with grand dreams for his place in medical society, but it had not taken him long to realise the folly of that. Within the medical community, peers regarded each other as enemies for hospital positions and rivals in the academic world; outside of the medical community, London at large still viewed surgeons as little better than barbers and hacks. Making one's way as a surgeon was not a matter of talent or dedication, but a matter of clawing one's way forward however possible and making plenty of enemies along the way. 

In short, in eight years of living in London, no one had once bothered to tell Lewis that he was welcome there. 

The simple earnestness of Benedict's reassurance struck the breath out of Lewis' lungs. He was loathe to show any sort of emotion in front of any man, least of all one he knew so little as Benedict, but he was obliged to take a long exhale and tip his head back to avoid letting his eyes grow misty. When he had composed himself a little better, he dipped his head back down again to stare into the empty glass on his knee. "I believe that is the kindest thing anyone has said to me in quite some time, Mr. Bridgerton." His voice came out a little rawer than he would have liked, but there was little to do about that. "... I thank you."

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict's words had seemed to draw some form of reaction from Lewis, and the younger male attempted to understand what it was. Emotion perhaps? Lewis clearly held better skill at composing himself than Benedict did . . . but never the less, there was something that had seemed to resonate within Lewis. Benedict did not question it, he merely watched the other man seemingly process his words. Or absorb them, perhaps? Or . . . he wasn't entirely certain. He only knew that he felt the twinge of sadness for him as well as annoyance at those who would condemn him to place him as such low esteem of himself. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But, sadly, Benedict also knew that this was the norm in society. He lived a very privileged life. A sheltered one too. But as he had grown up, and now being exposed to different sides of society . . . he felt a confidence within him, to speak up against injustice as well as the devaluing of someone like Lewis. Letting the silence linger, Benedict's expression softened as he watched him . . . before Lewis spoke of how that had been the kindest thing anyone said to him in a while. Benedict offered a small smile as he continued to thank him. "I find that both honoring and saddening," Benedict told him. The honor part was clear, to know that Benedict could tell him such truths of kindness that he had not heard in some time. But, saddening for another reason that perhaps required further explanation. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Saddening that you are not subject to kindness more often." He paused for a moment, knowing that Lewis did not say such things for sympathy, nor was that what Benedict was offering. "But do not take my words as simply kindness. They are truth." Benedict wanted him to believe it as well, though the second son was not naïve enough to believe that his mere words was enough to undo all the judgements of society. Still. Whatever he could offer Lewis in the way of kind truths, and complimenting words . . . he would gladly, willingly, and eagerly give. "And I am sorry, that others do not acknowledge your value more often." For London society, could indeed be a cruel one. For Lewis held value as not just a surgeon, but of course, as a person. Tag Lewis Anwyl Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

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

It was a very odd thing — and a very embarrassing thing — to find himself so affected by such a simple reassurance as Benedict had given. At its heart, it was no more than basic politeness: if a man were to put himself down, it was only natural for a friend to raise him back up with a kind word or two. That was all Benedict had done. It was thoughtful, but it was not particularly remarkable. 

The exact subject of those kind words, however, had struck a little too close to Lewis' heart. He had never felt himself quite at home in London, as much as he wished that he could; he bore, at all times, of a sense of tension that he could not shake, and while he was not always conscious of that tension itself when he was in London, he was conscious of the absence of it whenever he left the city. If he had paused to examine that feeling, he would likely have found it difficult to explain a precise source of it. In a word, perhaps what it came down to was pressure. Every part of London, from the balls and the dinner parties to the coffee houses and the libraries, carried the pressure of constant performance. Whether he realised it or not, Lewis had begun to believe that belonging in London meant submitting to that pressure and measuring his performance against others, and in that, he always came up short.

What Benedict had said was simple enough, but it had served, in some small way, to remove that pressure. It was not complete freedom from performance, certainly, but at least Lewis no longer felt quite so much like he needed to prove his worth. It was a strange feeling, that. When Lewis finally met Benedict's gaze again, he offered the same almost-smile that he had bestowed on the man at the tail end of their first conversation together. "You are a very good man, Mr. Bridgerton," he said, quite simply. "There are not many of those in London." 

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Seeing Lewis's almost smile brought another realization to Benedict's mind . . . which was that he had never seen Lewis smile before. Not properly. In their first conversation, he had merely thought it was part of the man's attempt to keep some formality between them. But now realizing that he did not see the expression touch Lewis's features was curious. Of course, not to the point where he would question it. But it was interesting indeed. Benedict had never been one able to fully restrain himself from being expressive . . . whether it was shock, sadness, joy . . . anger -- a not too common emotion for the Bridgerton second son to fully showcase -- or what have you. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ So when Lewis spoke kind words of him, Benedict smiled; a genuine, sincere smile. For, they meant a great deal to him."Thank you," he responded, the sincerity of his tone matched with his expression. Truthfully, such complimenting words meant a great deal to him for he felt it was earned. And he would much rather earn a compliment rather than be given one out of expectation or merely because he was a Bridgerton. Because he was nobility. Such attempts at flattery held a certain, superficiality to them. Yet ones such as the words that Anwyl offered . . . came from reason. From cause. And it made it mean all the more to Benedict. So to hear Lewis refer to him as a good man . . . it filled Benedict's heart with flattery and a strong sense of honor. The younger male reached for the brandy, filling Lewis's glass before proceeding to fill his own. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "I can certainly attest to that," Benedict said with a bit of an amused smile when Lewis said that a good man was not all too common in London. Once their glasses were full, Benedict settled back in his chair, holding up his glass. "It makes me all the more fortunate, to presently not be in the company of such men, but rather, a very good one as well," he told him, glass raised in a casual toast, returning the sentiment for he felt the same way about Lewis. Taking a sip after his words, Benedict leaned back in his chair, relaxing himself before curiosity prompted his next words. "Is it solely your work that keeps you in London?" Benedict asked. Did he have family here? A spouse? Any other reason for remaining other than work? It was Benedict's attempt to try and get to know the man before him . . . the man he easily called friend. Tag Lewis Anwyl Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

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

The permanent lack of a smile was a trait that most who knew Lewis had accepted as rather odd, but entirely characteristic of the surgeon. It was not a conscious thing: he never made any actual effort to conceal or withhold a smile, and he would have found the suggestion rather strange if anyone assumed that he did. He was, quite simply, serious to a fault, and having little natural urge to smile on most occasions, he saw no reason to force one. He had been told before that it was rather off-putting, but he remained disinclined to do anything about it. 

Even with the absence of a proper smile, the flash of gratitude across the surgeon's face was evident enough when Benedict leaned forward to refill his glass. He was not fond of being drunk, or even properly tipsy, but he found that two or three glasses of brandy served very well to loosen up the tension that generally afflicted him in social situations. As much as he liked Benedict's company, he was still not quite comfortable enough with the man to relax fully of his own accord. The man was, after all, still of noble birth, and even a kind noble was an intimidating companion. Another glass of brandy would put Lewis a little more at ease; he was thankful he had not had to ask for it himself.

The question did not surprise Lewis. Given how little he attempted to conceal his overall distaste for London, many acquaintances and associates had asked him why on earth he stayed in the city. Lewis had even asked himself that question on more than one occasion. Once he had paused to take a small sip of his brandy, he answered, "Mostly my work, yes. My temperament favours the countryside, but there are few opportunities for an operating surgeon outside of London."

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Taking another sip of his drink, he listened as Lewis explained his reasons for remaining in town. It seems that the man did not have family -- blood or otherwise -- that kept him here. Or, if he did, he was not comfortable in saying. Benedict however could certainly understand the appeals that the countryside held. It was a wonderful place to escape from all the ton and just be in ones own thoughts. Their visits to Aubrey Hall had decreased significantly since the passing of their father, so Benedict had purchased his own cottage to allow him the chance to visit when desired. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Time spent there however, was drastically deceased during the London season as his presence with family was required. Not that he minded of course. There was only so much solitude one could take after being around seven other siblings their entire life. "I too am partial to the countryside," he revealed. "But yes, I imagine it does not serve as fruitful where your work is concerned compared to the city." Work, family . . . marriage prospects, whatever brought one to the city, often kept them here for however long required. Tag Lewis Anwyl Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

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

It had been a rather cruel thing, for nature to put such conflicting passions and temperaments into a man. On the one side, Lewis abhorred London society, with all its pressures and demands; on the other, he could not stand the thought of forcing himself to settle down as a country surgeon, cut off from the debates and innovations of the city's medical circles. As much as he might claim to dislike the constant squabbling with his fellow surgeons and anatomists, there were few things in the world that would ever induce him to give it up. No, he knew quite well that he would not be satisfied living away from London, however many aspects of the city he found distasteful. 

Besides, he was more fortunate than some. He had both friends in the English countryside and family on the Welsh coast; it was not often that he had the free time to slip away from London, but when he did, he had several find places to choose from where he could spend a few days in the fresh air. He had not paused to consider it of late, but now that Benedict had brought the matter up, Lewis realised that he was positively itching to get away for a short while. After weeks of endless balls and dinner parties, nothing sounded so enticing as a spell of quiet in the countryside. 

He resolved to see what could be done about that, once he returned home tonight. He could not abandon his duties for too long, but a week, perhaps, would not be so terrible. Resting his finger against his lips, he propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and nodded in absent-minded agreement. "The viscount mentioned, I believe, that the Bridgerton family has a home in the countryside. You spent much time there growing up, I presume?"

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Anthony's remark about Aubrey Hall could only mean one thing . . . that their mother was planning one of her events. The ones where she conveniently invited several families, all with young women and a few families of men so that it maintained -- or attempted to maintain -- some semblance of balance. It was often one of her many attempts to have her sons find a wife. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Benedict was already thinking of how to get out of that one, for there was no escape from it. Families remained there for the night and the couple days spent was exhausted with dinners, events . . . constant socializing. But, Lewis focused on having grown up there and those memories were indeed bittersweet. His eldest brother did not go to Aubrey Hall as often now and as a family, neither did they. Not as much as they had when their father was alive. "Indeed," he confirmed. "Called Aubrey Hall. It is in Kent," he elaborated. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "It holds several fond childhood memories, but as we grew older, there was a greater need for us to be in the city." It wasn't entirely untruthful. With his sisters coming of age, and the need for the Bridgerton family to be in the public eye -- unfortunately -- it was best to be in the city around others. His younger siblings had needed that. "But how I do miss hiking," Benedict said with a smile. It had been one of his favourite activities to do -- especially with his father and brother. "And what of yourself, where in the countryside do you enjoy visiting?" He asked, wondering if he had lodgings there or whether he rented to escape the city for a while. Tag Lewis Anwyl Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

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

Benedict's suspicions were entirely correct: when Anthony had mentioned Aubrey Hall to Lewis, it had been with a roll of his eyes and a lamentation that he would have to attend a ball there next month. He had invited Lewis along, with a note of plaintive desperation in his voice that implied he was desperate for any guests that were not marriage-hungry mamas and their daughters; Lewis, absolutely dreading the thought but not entirely sure how to turn it down, had replied that he would have to consider whether he could take the time off from his work at the hospital. 

As unpleasant as he imagined the events might be, the home itself in Kent sounded rather lovely. Lewis had not had the pleasure of visiting many country noble homes, but the handful which he had visited were certainly impressive enough to make him rather curious to see more. Given the ease with which the Bridgertons seemed to float through London society, it was almost odd to picture them growing up in the countryside; Lewis had to confess that he would like to see where they had spent their childhood.

Benedict's own question surprised him a little. Blinking twice, he replied simply, "Sussex." Realising, however, that he ought to say a bit more than that, he elaborated, "I have a few friends that have summer homes, in Sussex. A physician, with whom I took anatomy classes some years ago, and a French entomologist. Both are gracious enough to host me when I want the pleasure of the countryside."

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict listened as Lewis' explained that he would visit Sussex, staying at the home of friends who were able to host him when he wished to escape the city. The more that they spoke of it, the more tempting it was for Benedict to head out to My Cabin for some time, especially with recent events and thus, provide him the opportunity to just clear his mind. And heart it would seem. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ It was indeed getting increasingly difficult to escape during London season though fortunately, not as difficult as it was for his eldest brother and sisters. "That is good to hear. For everyone requires a place to clear their mind and be in peaceful solitude. The city truly makes that an impossibility." Whether working or not. Places of peace and quiet were quite limited. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "What activities do you enjoy doing when you are in the country?" Hikes, horse riding . . . Benedict had even collected rocks throughout his childhood and teenage years. A collection he still possessed but not one he had added to in quite some time. An odd thing to collect, but it was more about the memory attached to picking the rock rather than the rock itself. Still. It was not exactly a collection he made known to others. It was hardly anything to boast about, or make note of at all. Tag Lewis Anwyl

                        the rules of society.