An Offer From A Gentleman

Benedict's Story

Hello again: it’s me, the Prologue, and I’m here to tell you about little Sophie Beckett, the illegitimate daughter of the 6th Earl of Penwood. Sophie was left on the doorstep on Penwood Park at the age of 3, along with a note — contents unknown to us — which persuaded the Earl to take her in. Yes, I know you are still traumatized by the parenting nightmare last week’s Prologue dumped on you, but I am a new and slightly improved version. What I’m saying is, Earl of Penwood > Duke of Hastings. The bar somewhere in the lower circles of hell, but the Earl does clear it. He’s not a very hands-on parent, mind you, but he does provide all material comforts a child would require. Sophie is being raised as the Earl’s ward, under the pretense that she is the orphaned daughter of an old friend. None of the servants are fooled by this subterfuge, but they all adore Sophie because she is a delightful child, and they lavish her with the affection that’s not forthcoming from her actual parent. What happened to Sophie’s mother? No clue. Thanks for nothing, Prologue.

Life for little Sophie is generally pretty good until the Earl decides to get married. You are not surprised by this development, nor by what transpires next, because we can all spot a Cinderella story a mile away, yes? And we are about to be Cinderella-ed like we’ve never been Cinderella-ed before.

The evil step-mom is called Araminta. Araminta is a GREAT book character name. Just the right amount of hoity-toity with a definite suggestion of maliciousness. Look, I am spoiling nothing by telling you right off the bat that she’s evil because she is evil – right off the bat. There are also 2 stepsisters: Rosamund, who is beautiful and a b*tch (but not a beautiful b*tch which is an important distinction), and Posy, who is plain but kind. They’re both around the same age as Sophie, but Sophie will not be allowed to play with or even talk to them. Evil Stepmom (as we shall call Araminta from now on) lays down the rules upon arrival: Sophie should not be seen or heard, ever.

Life thereafter is somewhat less nice for Sophie, although she continues to receive the same material comforts and education as before. That all changes once the Earl dies when Sophie is 14. In his will, the Earl does the bare minimum as a parent by providing a dowry for Sophie (along with the other 2 girls). He understands enough of his wife’s character to also make a special provision: Evil Stepmom will get two thousand pounds per year as her share of the estate but this will be trebled to six thousand pounds if she agrees to keep Sophie with her until Sophie turns 20. The idea being that Sophie needs a place to stay until she’s old enough to marry, etc. The fatal flaw — and I don’t know if the blame for this lies with the Earl’s shortsightedness or the incompetence of his executors — is that nobody ends up keeping an eye on Evil Stepmom to make sure that she doesn’t … oh, I don’t know … turn Sophie into a literal servant. Alas!

Ten Years Later

Lady Whistledown helpfully tells us that it’s Benedict’s turn to get married, in case you didn’t realize whose story we are reading. Conveniently, the Bridgertons are throwing a masquerade ball. What better way to find a mate than at a party where you can’t see anyone’s face. It’s like Love Is Blind, Regency edition! No shade — I have and will watch eleventy billion iterations of that show, and now I’m kinda mad this one doesn’t exist. Evil Stepmom and her daughters are prepping for the ball, which mostly seems to involve tormenting Sophie for no particular reason. I’m sensing that is a general theme in their household. Well, Posy tries to be nice but is so utterly cowed by Evil Stepmom that she’s not much of an ally for Sophie. Sophie is now 20 but still living with Evil Stepmom; since she doesn’t know the terms of her father’s will, she thinks this is all due to Evil Stepmom’s largesse, meagre as that is considering that Sophie is an unpaid servant. It sounds awful and also deeply illegal, even for the 1800s. Sophie is not allowed to have any time off or nice things, not even books. Her only escape from the drudgery is reading Lady Whistledown’s gossip paper and dreaming of the fun parties she will never attend – like this masquerade ball.

I think this is a good time to tell you that Sophie is a total Mary Sue. This tracks considering Cinderella was the original Mary Sue. Sophie’s beautiful, she’s kind, she’s 200% more forgiving that I could ever be. Let me put it this way: I would have been scrubbing Evil Stepmom’s chamber pot with her toothbrush the entire time. I’m not sure Sophie even thinks about it, and if she does, I’m sure she feels guilty. Now, generally speaking, I hate Mary Sues. Between you and me and my therapist, I think it’s because I am verrry well aware of my own foibles and I don’t think it’s fair if other people get to move through life without that heavy burden. Also, I find that being oppressed by the knowledge of one’s own shortcomings really dampens down a person’s tendency to be perky. Perky people are … best in very small doses. Like, maybe a short story or a novella at most. A whole book is gonna stretch my patience so let’s hope that Sophie isn’t an unbearably-Mary-Sue Mary Sue.

Once the Evil Stepcontingent leaves for the ball, it’s time for the housekeeper and the other servants to assume the role of fairy godmother and magical mice and get our heroine ready for her close encounter of the prince kind. That’s right: Sophie is ALSO going to the ball. She’ll be wearing an old dress of the previous countess, and it won’t scream “something is odd here” because it’s a costume party, remember? How convenient. The only problem is shoes, or specifically the lack of shoes that fit Sophie. Ugh, here we go again: beautiful girls and their dainty feet! Where is the representation for us ladies with big feet, huh?? No prince for us. She borrows a pair from Evil Stepmom’s closet, and I’m sure this will not be a problem later whatsoever.

At the ball, Benedict Bridgerton hates his life. No, it’s not because he’s tall, good-looking, and rich. It’s because he’s indistinguishably tall, good-looking and rich. Nobody can tell him apart from his brothers, you see! Well, people mostly can’t tell him apart from Colin and, in my humble opinion, only if these people don’t try very hard. Colin has green eyes! And is extra charming! Totally different from Benedict, who has brown eyes and is only moderately-above-average charming. [Everyone can always tell Anthony apart because he’s very, very uptight and prone to threatening people at the drop of a hat.] But this is Benedict’s Big Issue, as we will come to see: who is he and how does he stand apart as an individual in a large family full of outsized personalities? Honestly, it is one of the most relatable character motivations in this entire series and THANKFULLY not a daddy issue. And furthermore, if Benedict is a rake, there is barely a passing mention of it. PRAISE THE LORD!

That being said, if Sophie is a Mary Sue, Benedict is a Generically Nice Guy. Don’t get me wrong; he’s not a “nice guy” in the problematic sense. He’s just sort of … bland. He’s, like, Vanilla Colin (and keep in mind, Colin is kinda vanilla to begin with, let’s be honest). However, in the scheme of this book, and considering what Anthony and Simon have put us through, Benedict is a nice change of pace. We like Benedict. Not as much as Colin, but enough.

Ok, back to the story. Violet, the dowager Countess Bridgerton, asks Benedict to dance with Prudence Featherington. You may recall she’s one of the uninteresting Featherington girls. Benedict would rather eat razorblades than dance with her, so he suggests dancing with her sister, Penelope, instead. Penelope is at least witty, even if Julia Quinn persists on otherwise emphasizing all the ways she’s not physically attractive. Benedict likes Penelope; she’s nice and has a personality, and Benedict likes wallflowers better than popular “it” girls anyway. Point for Benedict. Oh, do not misunderstand: he doesn’t like Penelope like that, but he’s able to imagine that someone else could. Not anyone he knows but, you know, someone. Mmmm, ironical foreshadowing! I like it.

[Also, Penelope is supposedly dressed like a leprechaun for this party which I refuse to believe even the most neglectful Regency-era mother would have allowed. A LEPRECHAUN? Might as well put the girl in a garbage sack at this point. Ugh, the way they did Penelope dirty in this entire series, my God.]

But before Benedict can take Penelope for a whirl on the dancefloor, he stops dead in his tracks. A vision in silver has just walked in and Benedict is thunderstruck.

She shimmers.

She glows.

She’s utterly radiant.

She looks happy.

She’s … Cinderella!!! Just kidding, it’s Sophie, duh.

Benedict simply must meet her, so he completely forgets Penelope (justice for Penelope!!), cuts a bunch of guys already in line and whisks the masked beauty to dance. Problem is, she doesn’t know how to dance. That’s ok, Benedict is a resourceful guy and there is a conveniently private terrace close by available for lessons. Instead of being, like, “whoa, rando guy, back off”, Sophie thinks it’s charming and fun. She’s just so darn happy to be there, guys. Because she’s the eternally sunshiny Mary Sue, yeah? Ok, fine, also because she’s never been to a ball before and it’s all very fun and exciting. It takes her a minute, but eventually she figures out that Benedict is Benedict, by a process of elimination after Colin turns up. They look alike (remember, everyone at this party is wearing masks), but Sophie figures out who’s who based on her encyclopaedical knowledge of Lady Whistledown’s paper. Colin immediately angles for an introduction – calm down, Colin, this isn’t your story yet – but Benedict shuts him down. He wants mystery lady all to himself.

Left alone with Sophie, he tries to figure out who she is, as she refuses to tell him. He skillfully engages her in conversation and is able to deduce a few things from her responses (like, for example, that the only things she knows about the ton are from Lady W’s paper). To his credit, he’s pretty perceptive for a dude; Sophie is impressed too. They talk a bunch, and Sophie manages to make it clear that she’s here for a good time, not a long time. NOT LIKE THAT! Sophie is a lady even if she’s illegitimate. What I mean is that Sophie knows this is her one and only chance to be at a ball, and dance with a handsome prince aristocrat, and she’s gonna enjoy it to the fullest. So when Benedict teaches her how to dance, and then extends the lesson to kissing, Sophie is all for it. She’s basically 95% in love with him already.

But then … alas! The gong strikes at midnight and it’s time for everyone to unmask. Sophie, of course, can’t be around for that so she runs away. Benedict can’t catch her due to last minute interference by Lady Danbury, who can always be trusted to create a little chaos. All that’s left is … a glove. Hah! I bet you thought it was going to be a shoe. Julia Quinn is not that literal. Also, it wouldn’t work because England is not a totalitarian state where you can force random people to try on shoes. Also, the shoes belonged to Evil Stepmom anyway. No, Benedict has a glove, and luckily it’s embroidered with a crest and a monogram.

Back at home in her cold (I assume) garret (I assume), Sophie thinks about her magical night and cries herself to sleep because she knows she’ll never see Benedict again. Little does she know, Benedict has other ideas.

And he doesn’t waste any time. The very next day, Benedict gets to work. He takes the glove to his mother and asks her if she recognizes the crest. Violet has a mental Rolodex of aristocratic information, so of course she does. [Some of y’all who are babies may need to look up what a Rolodex is. I was going to change the reference but then thought, f*ck it – Google exists, enjoy this slice of Gen X nostalgia.] Violet tells him it’s the Penwood crest and asks him where he got the glove. Violet smells a romantic plot in the making and she is excited. Benedict doesn’t even need to come up with a lie to put off his nosy mom; he can truthfully tell her that he doesn’t know who the owner of the glove is. That’s the whole problem! Violet is familiar with Evil Stepmom aka the dowager Countess of Penwood, and Violet doesn’t like the vibes. Fortune-hunting harpy is Evil Stepmom’s vibes. Violet’s vibes are more chill; she would let her kids marry paupers if that would make them happy. I have an itsy bitsy feeling this dictum only applies to Violet’s sons, not her daughters, but I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt because Violet is actually really nice in this book.

Meanwhile, Sophie is getting hell from Evil Stepmom, who noticed that one of her shoes is scuffed. Dancing with a handsome stranger has some occupational hazards, and I guess a scuffed shoe is one of them. Because Evil Stepmom is evil, she makes Sophie clean ALL of her shoes. So Sophie is (in)conveniently out of the way when Benedict comes to Penwood House for a visit. He meets with Evil Stepmom instead, but his attempts to detect the identity of the mystery lady in silver come to nothing. Benedict is no Benoit Blanc, ok. After seeing Rosamund and Posy and realizing neither of them is the mystery lady, Benedict leaves immediately. I’m sure an abrupt exit won’t make this unannounced visit seem extra weird or anything. Benedict doesn’t care but he should. Evil Stepmom might be momentarily mystified, but she is not stupid. She spots Benedict outside holding the telltale glove, puts glove and scuffed shoe together, and quickly figures out what has happened. The result: she immediately kicks Sophie out of the house. Sophie is left to fend for herself, with no money and no immediate job prospects.

Two Years Later

Lady Whistledown catches us up: Benedict is now 30, and nobody in the Bridgerton family has gotten married in a while (since Anthony). Good thing Benedict is on his way to a party … no, wait. Wrong kind of party. This one is the Regency equivalent of a frat party at some rich git’s parents’ house in the country. The rich git in question is Philip Cavender, and I had to read that 3 times to make sure his name wasn’t Cadaver. A+ for this name too, Julia Quinn! Anyway, the party is full of the kinds of terrible things you might expect. Boozing, gambling, and likely non-consensual sex. To wit, Benedict arrives just in time to walk in on his host and 2 buddies trying to rape a house maid. I’ll give you three guesses as to who the house maid is. You’ll only need one. Benedict doesn’t recognize Sophie but he does recognize a sexual assault in progress, and he’s not going to stand for it. He removes Sophie from the situation with relatively little fuss – those rich gits are all cowards – and they leave together. Sophie doesn’t have much choice, seeing as how she has just lost her job. But also! She has recognized Benedict. It’s the man she’s been dreaming about for 2 years. What is he doing at this god-awful party? Good question, Soph. In his defence, Benedict isn’t a close friend of Cadaver boy, and didn’t know what kind of party this was going to be when he decided to go — plus he very much needed to be there for this whole plot twist to work. So. We’ll give him a pass.

Anyway, if you’re wondering why Benedict doesn’t recognize Sophie, it’s because she’s lost a lot of weight in the last 2 years and had to cut off her hair to sell it for money. I mean, ooookay, I guess. Still seems sus to me, but on a scale of “Christian Bale in an Oscar bait movie” to “Clark Kent takes off his glasses in a telephone box”, I guess Sophie falls closer to the “plausibly unrecognizable transformation” end of the scale. Plus, as they drive to Benedict’s house, he does ask her if they’d met before – she seems familiar. Sophie’s, like, ackshually now that you mention that … Psych! No, no she doesn’t. Rather than saying anything that might help advance this plot in a meaningful way, she decides unnecessary mystery is the best policy. To divert the conversation, she fawns over how wonderful and brave Benedict was in his showdown with Cadaver boy and his gang. Benedict shrugs it off; he hates bullies would-be rapists (fixed that for you, Ben). Also, he has 4 sisters. Normally, I hate the “I have sisters and daughters” type of male ally, but I will give Benedict another pass because he did list it as a secondary reason.

As they’re riding in the (open?) carriage, it starts to rain. Benedict’s, like, crap! I had a cold last week, I am doomed. As we have previously established, getting wet in the 1800s meant an automatic brush with death. There is a bright side though, as far as Benedict is concerned; if he gets (non-fatally) laid up in bed for a while, his mother can’t drag him to meet more debutantes. There is only one woman he’s interested in marrying, and it’s the mystery lady in silver who disappeared 2 years ago. You know, the one sitting next to him just then. But, hey, I see a bright side too: I smell a “nursing a love interest through a non-life threatening illness” interlude. I LOVE “nursing a love interest through a non-life threatening illness” interludes!! My sexual orientation is basically that sequence in Sense & Sensibility (1995) where Col. Brandon carries Marianne in from the rain (wetness strikes again!), asks how to be of use while she’s sick, and then spends hours reading to her in his Alan Rickman voice while she convalesces. It is almost impossible to mess up this dynamic – don’t even try, Julia Quinn! – and it works with the genders reversed too.  Which is good, because Sophie is about to get her nursing cap on.

They reach My Cottage – no, really, that’s the name of Benedict’s mansion, how very hipster of him – and get changed out of their wet clothes. Benedict tries a little bit of mild flirting on the cute (former) housemaid, but thankfully doesn’t step out of line when she fails to respond. She just escaped a sexual assault, Benedict, give her a minute! The only clothes available to Sophie are from Benedict’s wardrobe, so she’s left to stumble about in a pair of too-large breeches. This is somehow relevant later. They both fall asleep – in separate rooms – and then Sophie wakes up when she hears Benedict moaning. No, not that kind of moaning. He has a fever. Oh noes!! She goes to see if she can help, and wouldn’t you know it, Benedict’s fever ramblings basically amount to “kiss me”. Sophie is, all, “why not, don’t mind if I do.” Ooof. Okay, moving right along. She decides this is as good a time as any to tell him she loves him. Benedict is, like, “where did you go”, and it’s clear that he’s dreaming about you-know-who. Sophie’s, like, “hi, it’s me, I’m right here”. Benedict wakes up at that precise moment to burst her bubble – “not you” he says – and passes out again. Hmmm … so far, this whole “nursing a love interest through a non-life threatening illness” interlude is not living up to expectations.

Sophie takes the opportunity to scope out Benedict’s room, and let’s not pretend that you or I wouldn’t have done the same. She doesn’t find anything incriminating but she does find a sign of Benedict’s personality, finally. He’s an artist, guys! There are sketches and paintings and there is even a portrait of … her! Well, of the masked lady. It is a sign!! Why Sophie isn’t more excited about this, I don’t know.

The next morning, she wakes up in a chair next to Benedict’s bed. There are 2 strangers in the room. Luckily, they aren’t Bridgertons, which means Sophie can get a word in edgewise. They’re Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree, the caretakers of My Cottage. They’ve returned from a night away visiting family or some such convenient excuse for leaving the coast clear for Sophie and Benedict to waste a perfectly good “nursing a love interest through a non-life threatening illness” opportunity. Am I still a little sore about that? MAYBE. Benedict wakes up. There’s some back and forth about whether Sophie is or isn’t a servant. Like a true Mary Sue, Sophie is, all, “poor little old servant me” during this entire exchange, even though Benedict is clearly trying to treat her like a guest. The Crabtrees are probably wondering how they’ve found themselves in the middle of some third rate George Bernard Shaw pastiche scene. Mrs. Crabtree remarks that Sophie needs a belt so her breeches stay up. Benedict is suddenly very, ahem, alert. Because he’s totally horny for the not-servant girl, yeah? Dashing Benedict’s hopes of catching sight of an ass-cheek, Sophie goes to change into one of Mrs. Crabtree’s dresses. Then they have breakfast, and Benedict realizes that Sophie has been basically starved by her previous employers. She’s like one of those wide-eyed abandoned kittens in rescue shelter ads, and Benedict’s saviour complex is activated BIG TIME. He’s going to protect Sophie and find her a job at his mother’s house.

But first, he’s going to drag out his recovery as long as possible. And why not? He gets to rest in bed, eat good food, stay away from parties full desperate mamas, and spend quality time with Sophie. It’s great! Maybe he can convalesce indefinitely. Little Benedict, however, is feeling rather frisky. That’s right, Benedict gets, umm, a little too excited during one of Sophie’s visits. He manages to camouflage Little Benedict long enough for Sophie to leave the room, then decides it’s time to head to the lake for a cold dip. Didn’t you just get over a cold, Benedict? How many fevers is it going to take for you two to figure out your sh*t? What kind of crap plan is this?

But apparently another fever is not the plan. The dip in the lake is just an excuse for Sophie to come along and get an eyeful of Bridgerton prime beef, if you catch my drift. Mary Sue or not, she sticks around for the whole show. Predictably, Benedict catches her. Sophie is wholly unrepentant, and Benedict admits he would have done the same thing. However, he’s still going to punish her (huh? Why?) so he makes her wait while he gets dressed, only she has to turn around so she doesn’t see anything. I am unclear on whether the punishment is the waiting around or the not seeing part. These two have an odd way of flirting but whatever works for them. Eventually, they kiss. It’s really nice. So nice that Sophie starts to cry – it reminds her of their perfect first kiss. Benedict immediately asks if she wants to stop and OMG FINALLY SOMEONE ACTIVELY CARING ABOUT CONSENT! Sophie doesn’t want to stop but she does keep thinking about how Benedict might be imagining kissing her other self (mystery lady) and it’s making her jealous of herself. There is an easy solution to this dilemma and Sophie doesn’t pursue it, obviously.

Benedict is, like, “who really are you?” He’s convinced she’s not a maid. Sophie refuses to tell him anything or even agree to let him help her find a better position. She’s not his responsibility. Benedict would like her to be. Especially in bed. Ooooh, indecent proposal time. Ok, he doesn’t offer her $1,000,000 for one night, but he does offer her a permanent position with a good benefits package. As his mistress. Sophie is ready to give in and they make out some more. Look, I don’t blame her; the labour market in the 1800s was ROUGH. But then Benedict starts going on about all the nice things he’s going to buy Sophie and Sophie’s moral principles kick in. She’d rather be a maid than a mistress. Benedict is confused because, did he mention the benefits package? It’s really nice! Sophie is, all, “if you think that’s all that matters, you don’t understand anything.” Ok, Mary Sue.

Sophie is ready to pack her bags and leave, but Benedict won’t hear of it. If she won’t be his mistress, he’s still going to help her get a job. They argue some more, and Benedict guesses (one of) Sophie’s secret(s): she’s illegitimate. He tells her he doesn’t care about that; if she will agree to be his mistress, he promises to take care of any kids they might have. Sophie doesn’t care because what about his wife? Benedict is, like, I don’t have a wife and I’m never getting married … unless it’s to that mystery lady I’ve been dreaming about for 2 years. He doesn’t say that part out loud, but Sophie can tell he’s got something or someone on his mind. The argument goes on and on but the upshot is that Benedict threatens to have Sophie wrongfully arrested unless she agrees to go to London with him so he can get her a job with Violet. Sigh, I thought we were making progress with consent here. Suppose it could have been worse, though. Imagine Anthony in this scene.

Back in London, Violet is very chill for a mother whose son has turned up with a strange woman who needs to be given a job. Conveniently, the Bridgertons’ lady’s maid just quit – to go work for Evil Stepmom, oh my god, the synchronicity of it all – so there’s a Sophie-shaped job opening just waiting for a Sophie. Violet has some suspicions that things are not as they seem with Sophie; she is too educated for a maid, for one thing. Violet deduces that Sophie can even speak French! Maybe she’s the illegitimate child of a nobleman. Ding, ding, ding! Violet is a much better Benoit Blanc than Benedict.

Sophie is quickly taken up by the Bridgertons, who are all super nice to her. Still, she’s afraid to get too comfortable for a number of reasons. One, as a lady’s maid, there is a risk that she could run into Evil Stepmom at any moment, and Evil Stepmom would be sure to f*ck sh*t up. Two, living at Violet’s house, she’s going to be running into Benedict all the time, which is gonna be a painful reminder of everything she can’t have, etc. Babe, you coulda had it. And you coulda shot your shot and told him who you really are, while you were at it. But, no. So now enjoy your slice of martyr pie.

Naturally, these two can’t stay away from each other. They end up in the garden together at some point, where Benedict is mopey AF because he can’t bear to see Sophie sad and also can’t bear having sexy dreams about her all the time. Sophie is the first person he can imagine spending his life with since the mystery lady disappeared on him. Too bad he can’t marry her. I guess it would cause a scandal or something. They kiss again. Benedict would like to do a lot more, and he would really like Sophie to give in and agree to be his mistress. He debates forcing her hand by compromising her (aka having sex then and there and hoping someone comes in), but decides he doesn’t want to embarrass Sophie in front of his family. I mean, thank God for that, but also … how about you don’t pressure her at all, hey? How about just accepting that she doesn’t want to do the thing you want her to do? No? No. Benedict’s alternate plan is to slowly wear her down by wooing her until she agrees to become his mistress after all. Ookay.

Weeks later, Sophie has settled in nicely. All the Bridgerton women have become her besties. But Sophie is in for a nasty shock one afternoon because she almost runs into Evil Stepmom outside Violet’s house. Luckily, only Posy sees her, and Posy has the presence of mind to keep her mouth shut. Sophie is still hyperventilating when Benedict comes along. He takes her to his house so she can recover away from prying eyes and inconvenient questions. As they talk, he realizes that his plan isn’t working; the more time she spends with his family, the less likely she is to want to upset them by becoming his mistress. Sophie would give anything to have as nice a family as his. Benedict is, like, sure it’s nice but it’s not always easy. He’s still hung up on being Bridgerton No. 2, you see! Aww, poor Ben needs a little pep talk, and who better than the endlessly optimistic Sophie to give it. She thinks he’s so much more than simply not-Anthony and not-Colin. He’s someone who cares about people. Ok, that’s nice but not really a whole personality. What else you got? Well, he's got the soul of an artist. She’s seen his sketches and she thinks he’s brilliant. Benedict falls in love with her on the spot. We all love a little shameless flattery but wow, that’s intense. But, hey, that being said: if you want to shamelessly flatter me in the comments, I won’t stop you. I promise I won’t fall in love with you so it wouldn’t be awkward or anything. Just a thought.  

You know what time it is? Time for our protagonists to get it on! Bow chicka bow wow! It’s everything you would expect from a Julia Quinn “first sex” scene: lots of heat and unrealistic orgasms. Sophie has a marvelous time but she still won’t agree to be Benedict’s mistress. One time is ok, but a lifetime of sexing a man who’s not your husband is not kosher. Seems kinda arbitrary but ok. Benedict is confused and hurt because she keeps pushing him away. They rehash the same arguments again – she won’t be his mistress, he can’t marry her – and then Sophie finally reveals her big hang-up: she doesn’t want to have an illegitimate child. Because being one sucks. Valid point but also … you just had sex. Make it make sense. She can’t.

Two weeks later, and Benedict has been MIA. Everyone in the family is wondering why. Sophie knows but she’s keeping mum. Well, about some things, anyway. When the conversation somehow turns to “what’s Benedict good at, anyway?” Sophie can’t keep quiet anymore. Don’t worry, she doesn’t yell out “sex”. No, it’s art, duh. But also, Benedict really is the lost middle child in this family isn’t he? He’s 30 years old and somehow not a single one of his bazillion siblings or his mom knows anything about his hobbies or interests. And this family does nothing but talk all the time! Before anyone has time to wonder why the lady’s maid knows more about Benedict than his own family, Penelope Featherington comes in. She takes one look at Sophie and is immediately, like, “I know you from somewhere.” Penelope was at that masquerade ball, remember, and Penelope never forgets a face. Sophie finds the first excuse she can and scrams. She goes upstairs to play with some …. *checks notes* … random kids. I didn’t bother jotting down their names and it’s not important because this is just an excuse for Sophie to be playing Blind Man’s Bluff at a critical moment. Put a pin in it for now.

Meanwhile, Benedict arrives at Violet’s house, and he is in a bad mood. He runs into Anthony and Colin. When these three get together, something cringey is about to happen. And sure enough, we get an extremely cringey episode that is nothing except a set-up for the next book in the series. Anthony and Benedict tease Colin for constantly running away from Violet’s efforts to set up him with a wife. Even though they always did/do the exact same thing – hypocrites! Violet’s most recent efforts have involved trying to set Colin up with Penelope. Colin isn’t into it; he’s known her his whole life and she’s got girl cooties or something – there is simply no way he’s going to fall in love with her. Anthony lays bets they’re going to be married within a year. HAR HAR HAR! Colin is not amused. He loudly trumpets that he will NOT be getting married and he will DEFINITELY not be getting married to Penelope Featherington … who just happens to be standing nearby. AWKWARD!! Colin’s, like, “didn’t know you were there, soz”. He’s totally wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole but, instead, Penelope proceeds to read him to filth, like: A) I’m here because I was invited to come, and B) I never asked you to marry me, and C) I NEVER SAID TO ANYONE THAT I WANTED YOU TO ASK ME TO MARRY YOU, COLIN BRIDGERTON. She drops the mic and sweeps out, escorted by Anthony who is always stepping into the breech when someone is rude to Penelope. Brava, Penelope and well done, Anthony. Colin feels bad, as he should. He goes to find a drink and try to eradicate the last 5 minutes from his memory.

Meanwhile, Benedict is accosted by Violet, who wants to talk to him about an eligible young lady. It’s really a ploy; I’m pretty sure Violet is just trying to gage his feelings about Sophie because this isn’t Violet’s first rodeo and she knows what’s up. Benedict eventually gets around to asking Violet what would happen if he wanted to marry someone unsuitable. Awww, I guess you’re never too old to ask your mom for advice. Violet wants to know if it’s a little unsuitable or a lot. Benedict is, like, define a “lot” and then double it. But he doesn’t have to worry; Violet will support him no matter what. She does gently suggest that if his wife were, say, someone from the servant class, people would talk about it (and not kindly) and that might be difficult for him to bear, what with the charmed life he’s led so far. Violet: compassionate and perceptive. But, regardless, she’s there for him. Honestly, Violet is a great mom in this book.

Benedict finally wanders upstairs and catches Sophie with a blindfold on. Because she’s playing Blind Man’s Bluff, right? The scales finally fall from his eyes: ‘tis the mystery lady in silver. At last! But also, HE MAD!! Really, really mad. He tells her he’s been in love with her for 2 years, spent months searching for her, and she’s been lying to him this entire time. Honestly, Sophie never had a great reason for continuing to hide her identity after their second meeting so he has a point. He sweeps out angrily.

Sophie reacts in a very Sophie way and decides to immediately pack her bags and leave the Bridgertons’ employment. Violet intercepts her before she disappears and they have a lovely chat. In fact, Violet does her damned best to save the situation. She tells Sophie that she likes her and that SOPHIE IS JUST THE SORT OF WOMAN THAT VIOLET WOULD LIKE HER SON TO MARRY AND IS SHE SURE THERE’S NOT SOMETHING IN HER BACKGROUND THEY COULD WORK WITH TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN LIKE HAVING AN EARL FOR A BIOLOGICAL DAD???? I mean, Violet really just lays it all out for Sophie to connect the dots but … no. Eeyore Sophie just keeps repeating that she’s not good enough for Benedict. Oh Lord.

Sophie leaves the Bridgertons’ house and is promptly arrested on trumped-up charges laid by Evil Stepmom. HAH! Serves her right.

Ok, there are a few longish chapters to go, but I have run out of steam so let me condense. The next morning, Benedict and Colin are fencing, the 1800s version of going to the gym, I guess. Colin, back on his A game, tells Benedict what we are ALL thinking: why doesn’t he just marry Sophie already? Yeah ok, she’s a maid – but who cares? It all finally clicks for Benedict. Dammit, he will marry her and society be damned! See, Sophie? It really was that easy. Also, if you’re keeping track, this is the second wedding that Colin has facilitated in this series.

Thanks to Lady Whistledown’s column, the Bridgertons realize that Sophie has been arrested, and Violet and Benedict rush to the jail to spring her out. Violet lays a major smackdown on Evil Stepmom with great results: the truth about Sophie’s dowry is revealed, all the charges against Sophie are dropped, and Evil Stepmom is forced to agree to adhere to a hastily made-up cover story that Sophie is a distant (legitimate) relative of the Penwoods. Sophie finally accesses her inner rage and punches out Evil Stepmom for being a heinous cow – not to Sophie, mind you, but to her own daughter Posy. Sigh. Sophie Beckett: a Mary Sue till the end.

In the epilogue, we catch up with Mr. and Mrs Benedict 7 years and 3-soon-to-be-4 kids later. Things are great. Things are always great in the epilogue. This one is mostly a set-up for the next book. You see, Lady Whistledown is about to retire. You know what that means? IT’S TIME FOR COLIN’S STORY!!!! Awwww, yisssss!

Epilogue No.2 is all about Posy and her shotgun wedding to a nice vicar called Hugh.

Look, I know I kinda promised you Colin’s story next but your girl needs a little break first. So next week, we are going to do something different – I’m not sure what exactly yet but I am open to suggestions – and THEN … then we’ll do the best story in the Bridgerton saga. I promise it will be worth the wait.