Moments: One-Shots || Benedict Bridgerton

Moments: Midnight Moments

I

Seven weeks after your wedding

He finds you hunched over in the garden, being sick into his beloved rose bushes. It's around midnight and one of those warm late summer nights. It's been over a month since you returned from your two-week honeymoon in France.

"Darling, why are you out here so late?" Benedict asks, full of concern, handing you a handkerchief from his night robe to wipe your mouth

"I thought some fresh air might help," you say weakly, closing your eyes and swaying on the spot slightly, trying to tamp down another wave of nausea.

"Let me get you a glass of water," he bustles, giving you a quick peck on the forehead and disappearing back into the cottage.

When he re-emerges, you take it gratefully, rinsing your mouth, then taking a slow drink. You place the glass on the table next to a flickering lantern as he wraps you in an embrace from behind.

"Sorry if I woke you," you say softly.

"You didn't, my love. I stirred, and the bed was empty, so I came looking for you," he assures. "Did you eat something bad?"

You chuckle, enjoying the brush of his warm lips on your temple as you both gaze up at the stars.

"No, darling."

"Then why are you being sick? Perhaps an illness you picked up?"

"Not that either," you tease, waiting for the penny to drop.

"Then what is it?" he queries.

"Benedict, it's been seven weeks since our wedding night...," you pause, seeing if he figures it out.

"Yes and?" he prompts, sounding nonplussed.

"And I am frequently feeling nauseated..., and I have not bled this month," you offer the puzzle pieces.

You hear more than you see the moment he figures it out.

There's a gasp and a hitch in his breath right by your ear. "Oh!! Are you... pregnant!?!" his tone is filled with wonder and excitement.

"I rather suspect I am," you smile, placing your hands over his, around your waist.

He spins you in his arms, so you face him.

"Oh darling, that's so... wonderful," he gushes, kissing your forehead, cheeks, and mouth. "A sibling for James," he whispers happily, wrapping you tightly in his arms.

"Yes, my love," you smile up at him, and you rest your foreheads together.

—-

II

7 months after your wedding

You stand in a shaft of moonlight, staring out of the window, unable to sleep. James' sibling has started kicking now and sometimes wakes you up at night, dancing away. You gently rub your belly over your nightdress, hoping to calm them.

"Shh shh, my sweet," you soothe quietly "it's nighttime, and we should be resting."

"Baby moving?" Benedict's voice is low and rough with sleep.

"Yes, my love," you turn back slightly towards the bed. "I'm sorry to wake you; go back to sleep; they will be done soon, I hope."

He yawns then you hear footsteps as he pads out of bed.

"Let me see what I can do to help," his smile is warm as he kisses your lips briefly before kneeling in front of you.

He cups your bump gently and brushes his lips against it. You feel his warmth through the thin cotton fabric.