Benedict stared blankly at the scandal sheet, reading it over for the third time to make sure he was not simply seeing things in his drunken state.

"Well? Is it true?" Colin asked, not bothering to hide the excitement in his voice. The whole Bridgerton family loved Madeleine and had practically grown up with her. He thought it would be wonderful if the two finally got together.

Benedict tore his eyes away from the sheet and looked up at his brother with a distraught stare. "No, you dimwit. Of course it isn't true." He groaned, bringing his face to his hands. Colin rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatics.

"It would not be so bad, you know. She's a wonderful girl and you two obviously care for each other very much." Colin raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, we care for each other as friends. Nothing more than that. God, I.." Benedict's voice trailed off and he rubbed his temples, nursing an oncoming headache.

"You what?" Colin was rather confused, he couldn't understand why this was such a bad thing. Benedict looked up at his brother and sighed, taking a long pause before he spoke.

"I think I might be in love with her, Colin."

Benedict grimaced as he spoke. He was not sure if it was the alcohol that made him blurt that out, but he couldn't seem to care at this point. He felt as though he was going to hurl.

"I do not know why, or how, but lately.. my mind has been incessantly consumed with thoughts of her. Her smile, her hair, her eyes, her laugh, her. I can't get her out of my head and it is torture, brother." He ran his hand through his hair, slurring his words slightly. Colin laughed and clapped his brother on the shoulder.

"This is a good thing, Ben. You mustn't be so stressed about it. We have all known for a while that you two are more than friends and it is rather. painful that it took you this long to see that also."

Benedict scowled at his brother, shaking his head.

"It is no matter. She will never see me in that way and at any rate, she deserves better than me. I do not want to marry, not anytime soon at least. Once I marry, I will be forced to focus on raising a family and handling accounts and I will have no time to focus on my art. That sounds absolutely dreadful."

Colin frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Benedict shut him up with a wave of his hand. "This conversation is giving me quite the headache, I must go to bed. I trust you will keep this between us?" Colin nodded, sighing at the stubbornness of his brother and watching him leave the room. He did not understand why Benedict couldn't see what was right in front of him. The two would be happy together, they loved each other, and it seemed as though everyone knew that except for them.

The next morning, Benedict woke up with a blistering headache and the events of the night before hit him like a truck. One of the maids knocked on the door, calling to him that Madeleine was downstairs to see him.

"I do not wish to see her right now, please send her away." He grumbled into his pillow and he heard the maid's footsteps retreating away from his room.

Madeleine waited anxiously in the parlor, having read the latest Whistledown earlier that morning. She desperately wanted to talk to Benedict about it, to clear things up between them. She also wished to know why he had been so short with her lately, giving her the cold shoulder at every chance he got. The maid entered the room again.

"I am sorry, Miss Sinclair. Mr. Bridgerton does not wish for company at the moment."

Madeleine frowned and stood up, thanking her politely and leaving the room. She hated that he was pushing her away like this, but she knew it was best to give him space. She was almost at the door when she heard Eloise call her name. Madeleine turned around and smiled at the girl, who was walking down the stairs with Colin. Eloise looked at the scandal sheet in her hands.

"Ah, so you have read the latest issue, I see." Eloise chuckled, approaching her. "Whistledown sure knows how to make something as drab as a dance seem important, doesn't she?" Madeleine laughed softly and nodded, looking down at the sheet in her hands.

"It seems she does. I came over here to talk to your brother about it but it seems he does not wish to. I was just leaving."

"Benedict will come around, just give him time." Colin nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. Eloise and Madeleine both turned to look at him, suspecting that he knew something they did not.

"Colin, may I speak with you? In private?" Madeleine glanced over at Eloise, who took that as her cue to leave, laughing softly to herself. Colin watched the girl in front of him, biting his lip as he contemplated what to tell her.

"I can't help but notice that it seems you know something I do not, Colin. I have tried to speak with Benedict but he seems to be pushing me away. Have you spoken to him about this?" She gestured to the scandal sheet and Colin shifted nervously on his feet.

"I have, yes. But I am under oath to keep the conversation between he and I. I assure you, Mads, he will come to his senses eventually. Just give him a little time. You know artists and their dramatics." He chuckled, making Madeleine giggle a bit. She nodded.

"Oh yes, I do. I will give him time as you suggest. Thank you, Colin. I'll see you around?" The boy nodded and smiled at her as she left the house. Once she closed the door he sighed and turned around, making a beeline right to Benedict's room. He opened the door without knocking and found Benedict in bed.

"Feeling the aftermaths of last night, brother?" He asked cheerily, Benedict grunting in return. Colin crossed the room and opened the blinds, letting the sunlight enter the dark room. He was hit with a pillow as he turned around and he laughed, sitting at his brother's desk.

"You are an imbecile, do you know that? I do not understand how you can be so cheery after last night." Benedict glowered at him, barely lifting his head from the pillow.

"Ah, I am not the one who finished the bottle though, that was you, dear Brother." Colin winked, dodging Benedict's pillow as he threw another one.

"Madeleine was just here." When Colin did not get a response to this statement, he continued. "She wished to see you. She seems rather concerned about Whistledown's writing of the two of you. And she feels as though you are pushing her away. Are you pushing her away, brother?" He leaned forward, watching Benedict with a concerned look.

"No, I am simply not in a state to talk about this. I thought that much was clear. Now, if you don't mind, your incessant questioning is making my headache much worse." Benedict gestured to the door and Colin rolled his eyes, standing. He was about to speak, but decided against it, leaving the room.

That evening, Madeleine visited once again and just as before, Benedict told the maid to send her away. She was beginning to get frustrated with him. He had never pushed her away, they had always been the two people who knew each other best and could talk to each other about anything. She desperately wished to know what he was thinking.

Two days later, Madeleine and her mother decided to go for a morning walk in the park and get some fresh air.

"My dear, it seems as though something is troubling you mind. Would you like to talk about it?" Madeleine sighed and looped her arm through her mother's, looking into her concerned eyes.

"Oh, it is nothing, Mama. I am simply thinking about what Lady Whistledown wrote of Benedict and me. I have tried to talk to him about it but he has refused to see me."

Madeleine's mother gave her a sad smile and squeezed her arm gently, placing her hand atop her daughter's.

"Men, they can be quite infuriating sometimes, no?"

Madeleine laughed at this and her mother smiled, looking forward again as they walked. "That is quite the understatement, Mama. Let us talk about something else, please. I do not wish to spoil this beautiful morning with talk of such frustrating things."

The two continued to walk as they discussed what books Madeleine had been reading lately, the upcoming balls, and who they thought would marry this season. Madeleine absolutely adored her mother, and the two had always had a close relationship. She felt as though she could talk to her about anything and she trusted her more than anyone else.

Madeleine's father died when she was seven years old, and it only seemed to bring the two closer to each other. They mourned together for as long as they needed, and they made sure to talk about him quite often over the years. They enjoyed speaking of the happy memories.

When they returned home, Madeleine walked into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She heard her mother coughing from the other room.

"Mama, are you all right?" She called out, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove.

"Yes, dear. Just a throat tickle it seems." Her mother laughed and Madeleine smiled, continuing to make the tea. She finished and brought the cup to the living room, handing it to her mother. Her attention was grabbed by movement outside the window and she saw Benedict walking across his backyard before sitting by a tree with his sketchbook.

"I am going to go outside and speak to Benedict, I'll be back within the hour." She smiled at her mother and grabbed her shawl, heading out to the backyard. She had only just made it out the door when Benedict heard her coming, his head snapping up. He quickly looked away and closed his sketchbook, standing and heading toward his house.

"Benedict!" The girl called out to him, but he did not stop. She sighed and ran over, grabbing his arm gently.

"Benedict, you have been avoiding me all week. I only wish to speak with you and I do not understand why you are pushing me away like this. I thought that we were friends." She frowned as he turned to face her, looking everywhere but her eyes.

"What do you wish to speak about, Madeleine?" Her heart twinged at the tone he was taking with her. It was proper and cold, not sounding like the kind and caring Benedict she knew and loved. She widened her eyes in incredulity at his nonchalant attitude, as if nothing had happened.

"The latest Whistledown, what else?" She tilted her head, attempting to meet his eyes, and he finally looked at her.

"There is nothing to talk about. She was wrong, and that's that."

"Wrong about what exactly? We did dance, we did enjoy ourselves, she was not wrong about that." She put her hands on her hips, getting agitated with his attitude.

"She was wrong about us. She proposed that the two of us have found ourselves in a love match, and that is utterly ridiculous. I do not have feelings for you and I never will, yet she makes it seem as though we are to marry." He scoffed, as though he was disgusted by such a notion.

Madeleine felt quite hurt by his harshness, so quick to say that he will never care for her in that way. She had never considered it, but it hurt her to see that he was so revolted by the idea.

"God, you are such an idiot at times, Benedict. It was a simple gossip sheet, nothing more. And here you are, pushing me away and insulting me to my face."

"I am not insulting you, Madeleine. I am simply informing you of the truth, which you asked for, might I add." He raised his voice, growing angry with her, and she met his irritated glare with one of her own.

"No, I asked that you talk to me, as a friend! It is quite clear that you no longer see me in that way. It is truly disheartening to see that you would throw away almost two decades of friendship over the words of a woman who nobody even knows." She glared, crossing her arms. Benedict rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Are you quite finished? I have better things to do right now." He stated, coldly.

"I can't believe you. I wish to never speak to you again, Benedict. You are no longer the person I knew." Madeleine was infuriated with him, unable to believe he was being so rude to her over such a dumb thing.

"Glad to see we are on the same page." He gave her a fake smile, turning on his heel and storming into the house. She watched him leave and felt her eyes well with tears. She turned and walked back to her own house, still in shock at the lack of care he seemed to display. She had always considered him her closest friend and the two had never had an argument in the twenty years they had known each other. He had never raised his voice at her like that, or at anybody for that matter. He was always the most even-tempered of the Bridgertons, and she was failing to see why this stupid gossip author would lead him to act this way.

When Madeleine entered her house, she heard her mother coughing again. The girl frowned, she had never known her mother to be sick, the woman seemed practically immune to everything. They had often joked about how she would live forever. Madeleine made her way to the living room, and stopped in the doorway as she saw her mother holding a white napkin, soaked with blood.

"Mama, are you all right?" Madeleine's voice was laced with concern as she rushed over to her. Her mother looked quite pale all of a sudden and Madeleine called out for the maid.

"Please, send for the doctor. Something is wrong!"