Sweet Honour- Benedict Bridgerton

8. Hornbeam and Ash

Victoria settled her easel in her art studio, one that they had installed when she was ten or eleven, it had a barre along one wall and a massive window along the other. It meant that Victoria could paint while Iris could work on her ballet, it was functional and a sanctuary for many years of her life.

She had decided to start off easy, to paint the cherry blossom tree in the back garden, really honing in on the detail of its petals. It was going swimmingly, each brush stroke was made with care and the sun was in the perfect position, so that the tree was clear as the focal point, the colours mingling in beauty.

The painting was near finished when she heard a knocking at the door and turned to see her maid, Frances.

"A caller is here for you, madam." Frances announced.

Victoria knew that it would come at some point, the callers arriving off of their own accord while she tried to enjoy her day.

"Thank you, Frances. I do not mean to keep them waiting, but would you allow me a minute or so to change into some more appropriate attire?" She knew that she could never get away with speaking to a gentleman dressed in her gown covered in hornbeam and ash leaves.

"Of course." Frances smiled and exited promptly.

Victoria picked out a lilac dress, with the aid of her sister Ada, and clothed herself as quickly as humanly possible. She huffed as she pinned her hair up in messy swirls, allowing some strands to frame her face and neck.

"You look beautiful sister." Ada squealed. "This caller will be charmed!" She kicked her feet up and down as she sat on Victorias knees.

"Why thank you Ada, you look not so scruffy yourself." Victoria smiled as she led Ada out of her room.

"Are you taking me with you?" Ada questioned, brows quirked in confusion.

"Yes of course, I need a chaperone, do I not?"

"Oh yes sister!" Ada beamed at the notion that she would be included in this particular endeavour, for she was always too young for any of Victoria's usual ventures. Victoria kneeled down to whisper to Ada before they entered the drawing room.

"Now, once we enter you must greet the gentleman and then sit quietly on the settee, I am sure the young man would be delighted so see you." She pinched Ada's cheek.

They entered and there was a young man starting out the window onto the ton.

"Mr William Maywood of Canterbury." Frances announced.

Ada hurried forward as Will turned away from the window. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Maywood." She stepped back and expressed the cutest curtsy known to man. "I am to remain as chaperone." She smiled and Victoria winked to her as she took a seat upon the couch.

"It is my pleasure to meet you too." Will smiled and bowed his head. "I suspect that I am here after many callers today already?"

"Not at all, in fact you are the very first." Victoria replied as she settled herself on the opposite sofa, taking a pillow into her lap. "Please, have a seat."
Will sat beside Ada who was happily reclined with her nose in a book.

"I was just thinking that we should talk, since we didn't have the chance to at the debutante yesterday?" He asked politely.

"Yes of course." Victoria obliged, as Frances entered the room with European pastries.

"Oh I do love these, I have a talent for baking them too." Will said.

"That's rather surprising." Victoria said, and Will frowned. "Oh no I do not mean that you would be unable, I just mean that the level of difficulty in making them is so high, I didn't know you had learned."

"Do not worry, but yes, I traveled to France last year and learned to make them in a Parisian Patisserie."

"Well, that is marvellous, I actually took a short trip to France last year also, a beautiful country is it not?" She said. "It is funny how we did not bump into each other."

He chuckled.

"Actually," she said, "If you would follow me I could show you the very painting I did when I was in Paris."

"Absolutely." He said and followed her through, looking over his shoulder to a sound asleep Ada, book flat upon her face.
They walked into the art studio, and Victoria revealed a painting from a pile of many of the like and held it up to the sunlight.

"That is excellent." He whispered, and stretched out his hand as if to reach for the flowerbeds in the landscape.

"Thank you." She smiled.

A knock at the door.

"I'm very sorry to intrude Miss, but there is another caller here for you." Frances announced yet again.

"Of course allow them to come in." Victoria replied.

"If you would like me to leave, I can, I do not mean to intrude." Will said.

"It is no bother at all." She smiled as a young man entered the room, a young man with brown hair and blue eyes, in a black suit with a navy blue cravat. None other than Benedict Bridgerton.

"I truly should go, I fear I have overstayed my welcome." Will said, and Victoria smiled sorrowfully, as she truly did not want him to go. He was a sweet soul with the right intentions and she felt as though getting herself into bother with Benedict again would only muddle things.

"Thank you for seeing me." Victoria said as Will began to walk out of the room.

"I hope we can do this again sometime." He smiled, moving past Benedict who was blocking half of the doorway as he leant against the frame.

"I believe you met with my sister today." Benedict spoke after a long few minutes of silence.

"She said she would not tell, but then I am sorely mistaken." Victoria replied.

"Do not worry, she didn't indulge me any details of a little forest frolic, she merely spoke about seeing you around."

"There is very little you can trust a Bridgerton with isn't there."

"There is no need to scold." He said.

"You have some might to say that to me." Victoria huffed.

She had decided to get back to her painting while she let him drone on in the background.
But she seemed to be having some difficulty getting her painting apron on for her dress was in the way, she sighed and began to paint anyway.

"Please, let me help." He said.

"You will not come any closer." She could feel her pulse racing but she picked up her paintbrush and palette and painted on some birds in the peachy morning sky.

"You will ruin your dress." He scoffed.

"I do not mind ruining one for the sake of art."

"You are truly unbearable, that is one thing my sister was right about."

"Ah so she did share some titbits with you did she? I would not be shocked if she was the infamous Lady Whistledown for all she gossips." Victoria took off her apron in a small fit of anger and dropped it onto the floor.
She put her equipment aside and then bent down to pick it up, Victoria's heart raced even faster when she felt her hand touch his.

"Please, allow me." He said.

Victoria felt as though she could not object any longer as her eyes flickered across his. This was not a battle or a feud, no more than they made it out to be. She desired to speak to him as she did all those years ago, with ease and grace and -dare she think- love.

She merely turned her back to him and allowed him to place the apron around her neck, he moved her hair out of the way and in that motion he grazed the nape of her neck.
He laced up the garment, and it was the most excruciating minute of her life.

For she did not know whether she wanted to scream, cry, or turn around and kiss him.
It provoked her that she did not know what he thought, for they used to be so in tune that once they were able to communicate through only their eyes. Now it was gone.
Whisked away into some vast expanse of forgetfulness.