Often

An Eventful Evening

Adalia couldn't help the nerves that overcame her. She had not expected to see Benedict so soon. Was this of his own wishes? Or was this his family? What if the morning light had brought a change in his thinking?

She was currently bathing in a warm bath of lavender and vanilla, a scent often associated with her. The deep aroma's not soothing her as quickly as they normally would. She leaned further into the metal basin, hoping that by submerging herself, she could relax.

After freeing her mind of worry and exiting the bath with the help of a nearby maid, she made her way to her room. Sending the maid away, she set to work oiling her skin. It was a lavender oil, something she had learned from her nanny.

Her skin glistened in the light with the help of the oil, and she turned in her mirror to examine her nude figure. Her brown skin was not free from blemishes as some of the other ladies of the ton, a tan settled over her skin from her many hours in the sun, scars from falls, and bug bites scattered on her legs, and a deep scar along her abdomen where she had once fallen from a tree into a thorn bush.

No, Adalia was not the porcelain doll her brothers thought her to be. Her hands pulled at the light pudge of her stomach, even with all her time spend moving, she held a softness in her belly, her belly flared out to wide hips at the bottom and moderate breasts at the top, her nipples a dark rosy brown colour.

She followed her hips to the center, where a dark bush covered her womanhood, she had not much to compare herself to, having been kept away from the ton most of her life, and taught at home by her sister and tutors, she had not made friends outside of her family and the help around the manor.

She was too ashamed to ask for advice now, but she had read books on human anatomy and had a basic understanding of bodies. From the romance books and poems she read, love was all consuming, and her body would not hinder her lover. True love is not stopped by comparison.

That still did not ease her mind, she had seen the gardeners working before, shirts unbuttoned, but something about Benedict Bridgerton's, glistening chest revealed by a low buttoned shirt had caused desire to stir in her as it hadn't before.

A blush started covering her chest, making its way up to her cheeks. Her nipples pebbled, and small bumps raised from her arms at the thought of him. Looking at her body again, she felt like Venus personified, a woman now stood before her, something she hadn't taken proper time to notice before.

She shook those thoughts from her head and made way to her closet to find something to wear to tonight's dinner. Her wardrobe had recently been filled with new dresses to help usher her into society. Her dresses did not come from the town modiste as was normal, but rather from her nanny.

A woman of many talents, seamstress was just one of them, and having more knowledge in what the woman of today wear, Adalia had left it up to her to dress her for the season. Using fabric gathered from her brothers travels, she was sure to leave an impression from her fashion alone.

Which she was counting on, while not a shy mouse, Adalia was quiet, preferring to keep to herself and her family. It was why being around Benedict was so easy for her, almost like they had known each other a lifetime rather than an afternoon.

He was outspoken and loud, often rambling and dreaming, whereas she was more grounded, quiet, and listening. He didn't ignore her for talk of only himself but found a way to get her to talk about herself, a feat only accomplished by her family so far.

The white dress had a layer of light sheer pink over top, almost looking white until the light hit it just right, it was tight on her bodice and flowed down her legs, the straight cut slightly getting caught on her hips hinting at the curves beneath.

The sleeves made of only the pink material puffed out in a short cap, the light colour popping out against her dark skin. She applied light makeup, not one to wear it normally, a powdered blush, and kohl rimmed eyes to help her eyes stand out, were all she used.

Her hair was something else, and she was unable to come up with a good style, so she called for her nanny. The woman had long since stopped being known as nanny by her siblings, now being called by her name, Samara, but the childhood name had been carried over by Adalia in adoration for the woman who helped raise her.

"Oh my dear child, look at you!" Samara called out at the sight of her. "What a magnificent lady you have grown into."

"Thank you." Adalia said bashfully. "Nanny, I need help with my hair. The curls are most uncooperative today!" she ranted.

"Of course, dear." Nanny ushered her to sit, pulling hair pins from the small dish on her dresser. Somehow, in a matter of minutes, her hair went from a curl explosion to a half down half up style, the hair oil coating her nanny's hands helping to tame her mane.

"Thank you! I look beautiful, almost like my mother." Adalia turned to Samara, taking hold of her hands.

"Like your mother indeed." Samaran agreed, a small smile on her face.

Samara's children had since left the nest, moving on with spouses and children of their own, leaving just her husband and her. Her husband was head coach man for the manor, and while she missed her children dearly and wished they did not live so far away, her heart was still full with the girl, nay, woman in front of her.

They made their way out to the hallway, and down the stairs to her awaiting siblings, her brothers froze in surprise at the sight before them, her mothers beauty mixed with their father's wit. Her sister rushed over to her, embracing her in a hug, never having seen her sister so dressed up.

"My, what a becoming lady you have turned into." A voice broke through the silence.

Her father was home, she shouldn't be surprised as it was the marriage season and appearances were to be kept, but the deep baritone of his voice filled her with so much comfort she had to hold back tears as to not ruin her look.

"Father!" she called running over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist like he would disappear.

He held her tight for a minute, looking over at all his grown children, wishing his wife could be here to witness what wonderful humans they had become.

"We have a dinner we must get to. Let us not keep our hosts waiting." He stated, walking arm in arm with his daughter towards the carriages.

---

As the carriages pulled up to the Bridgerton Manor, her sister in law gasped at  the sight before her. It was a sight to behold for sure. The vines and blooming flowers took over the front of the building, giving a fairy tale like quality to the home.

"It is as beautiful as they say!" she exclaimed.

While the Blackmoore manor was by far larger than the Bridgerton estate, it lacked the homely feeling that exuded from the structure in front of them. A feeling that was steadily decreasing with her brother and sister's young family.

The family walked out of the manor to greet their guests, the youngest with her eyes wide in hopes of not missing the moment the mysterious Blackmoore family exited the horse-drawn buggies. The second eldest held his breath, awaiting the one he really wanted to see.

Her brother's were the first out of their carriage, then her father and eldest brother exited the carriage, her brother holding out a hand for his wife, and her father a hand for his daughter. Her eyes immediately found Benedict's form, standing tall well above the height of his other siblings.

A smart suit, fully buttoned this time, showed off his impressive physic and his hair tamed unlike the day under the tree. He looked handsome.

Greetings were exchanged between two families. The parents, knowing each other from before each had lost a spouse, and the men familiar with each other from school and gentleman's clubs. 

Both families made their way inside toward the drawing room where they settled into light conversation not long before the men of the Bridgerton family, invited the men of the Blackmoore family to the study for refreshments, her father opting to stay and continue his conversation with Violet.

She cast a look at Benedict, meeting his gaze that was already on her, as they departed, they had not had a moment to talk yet but she was sure that the fuzzy feeling in her stomach would only grow in his absence.