Benedict Bridgerton Regency Imagines || Benedict Bridgerton

(Be)Longing

I: Saved

"Unhand her at once!"

The smooth, confident, older voice rings out across the village green, and suddenly the pack of nasty bullies who have your arms in a grip seem to melt away from around you.

You don't even think to pause and thank the person who broke up the mob. No, your fight-or-flight response is in full-on flight mode. The minute your arms are released, and you see the break in the circle, you run. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. Bolting down the road and into the safety of the churchyard near your house. You do not want to run home upset and worry your mother, so you do the next best thing, the thing you are becoming increasingly good at, hiding. You climb a crabapple tree. And then you let the tears flow—just flooding down your cheeks.

You hate this new village your parents have moved you to. Your father, a doctor, had been offered the position as village physician, and now here you are, moved from Surrey to Kent, but it might as well be the other side of the world. You miss your friends. You miss your old village. You are not the most outgoing of people, and the upheaval in your life has been immense. You yearn to be back in your old, familiar, comfortable home.

You are sniffling, taking deep breaths, angrily wiping tears, and preparing to face your family when he appears.

"Are you alright?"

You startle. Beneath you, squinting up into the tree, is the owner of the voice who rescued you. Seeing him now, you feel an odd warmth in your ribs. He looks older, maybe fifteen, if you had to guess. He seems benign with a calm face, and his expression is one of sympathy and concern.

"Yes," you squeak quietly.

"It is safe for you to come down," he says gently, "should you wish."

"Are they gone?" you query, wishing you could hide the tremble in your voice.

"They will not bother you again; I can assure you," he states with absolute certainty.

Your eyes go wide, "What did you do? I don't want to make it worse for my brother," you fret.

"I told them if they mess with you again, they will have the Bridgerton brothers to contend with," he nods, with an air that suggests the name is of some local import.

"Is that you?" you ask timidly, not wanting to get down from the tree just yet.

He chuckles. "You must be new here?"

"Yes... we just moved here two weeks ago. Those boys have been tormenting my brother since his first day at school. They appear to have chosen me to pick on as he is not around," you frown, dusting a twig from your skirt.

"Well, that ends now. Now, do you need help down?" he asks.

"No," you sniffle, "I am capable."

"I wouldn't doubt it," he nods politely and steps aside to allow you space to jump down.

With a quick swing, you do so, landing neatly on your little brown boots. You unfurl to your full standing height, but even then, you have to crane your neck to look up at him.

"Very impressive," he smiles warmly. "I am Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton. Welcome to Kent." he thrusts out a hand to shake and, bemused at the formality, you take it and shake as if a businessman, not a ten-year-old girl.

"Thank you, Benedict. I am y/n y/l/n. My father is the new physician," you gesture vaguely over the church wall towards your home next to the rectory.

"Ahhh," he nods in understanding.