The thunder crashed outside as the rain poured down his window and Benedict sighed, barely able to focus on his sketch. Every so often, he glanced out the window at the Sinclair house, wondering what was happening there. A knock on the door caught his attention and he looked up as one of the maids popped her head in.

"Mr. Bridgerton, Miss Sinclair is here to see you. She is in the garden, she says she will not leave until she speaks to you." Benedict's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he stood, walking over to the window.

Benedict narrowed his eyebrows as the girl paced around in the backyard, paying no attention the rain pouring down. Her arms were wrapped around herself in place of a shawl and she shivered while she paced. Benedict grabbed a spare jacket of his off of his chair and head downstairs, opening the back door to the garden. Madeleine looked up at the sound of the door opening and he couldn't help but think that her expression resembled that of a lost and panicked child.

Madeleine walked up to him and he couldn't tell whether her face was wet with tears or with rain, but he had a feeling it was both.

"Benedict, I'm sorry, I know you hate me and I'm the last person you want to see right now but I just.. I didn't know where else to go." She let out a sob and Benedict quickly pulled her into his arms, shushing her softly. He tried to urge her inside the house but she shook her head, mumbling something into his chest about how she couldn't face everyone right now. He pulled the jacket around her, resting his chin on her head as she cried.

"Madeleine, I do not hate you. I could never hate you. And I am always here for you, no matter how angry I might be, you can always come to me." He squeezed her gently, trying to warm her shivering figure in his arms.

She looked up at him with teary eyes and his heart broke at the pure sadness on her face.

"My mother.. she was sick. And this morning.. She did not.." She sobbed again, unable to form the horrible words. Benedict noted her use of the past tense and his lips parted, pulling her into another tight embrace.

"Oh, Madeleine. I am so sorry. Please, come inside. I will make you some tea and you can borrow some of Daphne's clothes. I promise you will not have to talk to anyone." He gently ran his hand through her hair, which was now dripping wet, and he felt her nod slowly against his embrace.

He gently guided her inside, keeping his jacket wrapped tightly around her. He quickly ushered her up to his room to avoid running into anybody, and he sat her down at the edge of the bed.

"Let's get you warmed up, and then we can talk. I can not let you go back home in this state." He wiped her tears gently and she grabbed his hand, holding it in hers tightly. He could tell she wanted to say something but it seemed as though she could barely speak.

"You can stay here tonight if you would like." He practically read her mind, and she looked at him with thankful eyes, nodding softly. She could not go back to that house right now, she couldn't bear it.

"I am going to get you a cup of tea and some clothes. Change out of those wet clothes, I do not want you getting sick." He brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead, and she nodded slowly as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Benedict walked down to the kitchen, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove. He leaned against the counter and ran his hand through his now wet hair, sighing. He couldn't believe Madeleine's mother was gone, and he couldn't imagine the pain she was in. Well, he could to a certain extent, given his own loss, but he had his whole family to help each other get through it. Madeleine had nobody. It had always been her and her mother after her father died, and now it was just her. The door swung open and Benedict looked up, startled, to see Daphne, who looked just as surprised.

"Oh, Benedict, you gave me a fright. I was not expecting anyone to be in here. I could not sleep, and thought a glass of milk might be refreshing." She wandered over to the fridge, pulling the milk out. When Benedict didn't respond, she looked over at him curiously.

"Brother, is everything all right?" She slowly set down the milk, walking over to him. "Why are you all wet? Were you out in the storm?"

"Madeleine's mother is dead." He said, his voice solemn. Daphne gasped and her face fell into a frown.

"Oh goodness, that is terrible, I'm so sorry. Is she all right? That's a stupid question, I'm sure she is not all right. Is there anything I can do?" She put her arm on her brother's shoulder, watching him with sad eyes. He shook his head and gave her a small smile.

"Thank you, Daphne, but she does not wish to see anyone right now. She is in my room, I am making some tea to try and calm her. Oh, and please do not tell mother. She will try to comfort her and while her intentions may be good, I am afraid it will only hurt Madeleine more."

Daphne nodded quickly, giving her brother a hug as she promised not to tell. She bid him goodnight, turning to leave the room. Benedict poured the warm water into a mug, adding some honey and a tea bag before he remembered the clothes.

"Oh, sister, there is actually something you may do. Do you have a spare nightgown? Madeleine's clothes are soaked and she is absolutely freezing, I fear she may get sick." Daphne stopped in the doorway and nodded.

"Of course, let's go find her something." He followed her to his room and she handed him a nightgown and some spare undergarments, as well as a pair of warm wool socks. He kissed her cheek and thanked her, wishing her a good night before leaving.

Benedict walked back into his room, knocking gently before he entered so that he didn't scare the girl. He frowned when he saw that she hadn't moved from the spot on his bed.

"Mads, you must get out of those clothes. Here, Daphne has given me some spare clothing for you." He set the tea down and kneeled in front of her, unlacing her boots and removing them before helping her stand. He handed her the clothes and started to leave the room, giving her privacy to change.

"Benedict?" Her voice was quiet and meek, he wasn't sure she had spoken at all. He turned to her and she was looking up at him.

"I can't.." A tear fell down onto the nightgown she was holding and she looked as though her shaking legs might give out beneath her. "Will you help me? Please?" Her lip quivered and he hesitated, before nodding and closing the door once again. He slowly walked over to her and took the clothes from her hand, setting them on the bed. He moved behind her and began to unlace the corset, before pulling it off and hanging it near the door to dry. His gentle hands touched her shoulders as he slowly removed her dress, making sure to be careful and respectful. She shivered at the warmth of his fingers on her cold skin and he whispered a softly apology.

Benedict helped her into the warm and dry nightgown, tying it up for her in the back. He guided her to the bed and sat her down once again, removing her wet tights and stockings, and putting the wool socks on her feet. He stayed where he was, kneeling by the edge of the bed, and took her cold hands into his warm ones. She watched him, tears still running relentlessly down her cheeks. He lifted a hand and slowly wiped her cheeks, being as gentle as he could, before kissing her hands softly.

"I can not imagine what you are feeling right now, Madeleine, and I am so sorry. I will help you through this in any way I can, I promise you that." She sniffled and nodded slowly, wrapping her arms around him. He hugged her back, rubbing his hands gently up and down her back to soothe her. He pulled away after a few moments and handed her the cup of tea, standing up as she drank it. He opened the door and called the maid, asking her to dry Madeleine's wet clothes for the morning. The maid took the clothes from him and Benedict helped Madeleine to lay back in bed, covering her with multiple blankets to aid her shivering.

He turned and looked around the room, considering spending the night on the settee. He could go sleep on the couch in the living room but he did not think it was best to leave her all alone right now. He moved to grab a blanket and pillow to put on the settee but she grabbed his wrist softly, patting the spot in the bed next to her.

He watched her with hesitance, her eyes pleading up at him. He bit his lip and nodded softly, walking around the bed to lay down next to her. He pulled her into his arms, and she laid her head on his chest, curling up next to him. He stroked her hair gently, resting his head on top of hers as the two drifted off to sleep.