Sweet Honour- Benedict Bridgerton

15. A Golden Heart Comes With A Price

Benedict's pov:

The early rays of moonlight began to pour themselves through the ceiling windows, and Benedict thought to himself that maybe Victoria had summoned them.
He found it an oddity that so many people would flock to Victoria and crowd her so, but he understood them, because that was exactly what he wanted to do. Although, without the many questions and backhanded compliments.

As his gaze rested on her still, there was a small amount of reminiscence within him, as thought he had see it all before. And he had, when he watched his sister Daphne be bound to the callings of society and his brother Anthony wounded by the burning tropes of love.
Benedict thought for his whole life that he may be able to avoid the scars that love and society may leave, being the second born meant that he could dodge around responsibility and reputation, but as he watched Victoria blush at the spouts of compliments from people, he knew that the hand of God was dealing him a card of love.
This card he could no longer ignore.

It was as if Victoria's presence lingered long after she was gone. That includes the first time, when she left for five years, but also the many times that Victoria stormed from a room that he was in, or even when she met with one of his siblings.
Like when Eloise returned home from a garden frolic, it was not the smell of cigarette smoke that he sensed upon her, but that sweet chamomile scent that belonged to Victoria.
He felt as though he might be the only one in the world to sense something like that, but as he watched other young suitors crowd around Victoria, he knew that it would not be long until one of them knew that feeling all the same as him.

"Enjoying the view, brother?" Anthony said from behind Benedict, giving him quite the fright.

"Are you really making a jest at my interests?" Benedict said as he turned to look at his brother with an eye roll.

"Answering a question with a question, very smart brother. But is that truly all you'd like to do? Just watch? Why not go and ask for her hand or something, be bold." Anthony replied.

"Admiration means more than you think, brother. I don't wish to crowd her senses, just look at the number of people around her." Benedict extended his arm to show the amount of people that stood around Victoria, like a group of bidders around an animal trussed up for auction.

"All the more the reason to save her from that misery." Anthony stated, patting Benedict on the shoulder before returning to his wife.

Benedict thought about it thoroughly, he didn't want to treat Victoria like a prize at the end of a race. He was not one to treat a relationship like theirs so brashly. But it turned out his feet had made the decision far before him, because he had already stated taken steps toward the door where Victoria stood along with her fanfare.
He knew it was for her sake, but it didn't stop his heart from beating any faster as the gap enclosed between them.
Benedict slinked through the crowd, pardoning himself to anyone he might've pushed out of the way, and slyly straightened his plum coloured cravat.

"Miss Knight," He said, bowing his head slightly before outstretching his arm for Victoria to take.
"Would you do me the honour of having your first dance?" He asked with a smile, but the feeling inside of him was only serious. The thought of rejection creeped up on him, which would scorn only more intensely with this amount of people watching.

"It would be my pleasure." Victoria answered, her smile warm and homely. It felt as though a thousand weights had been lifted from Benedict's heart. Victoria looped her arm within his as they began to walk toward the dance floor.

"Thank you." Victoria whispered while they assumed their positions for the cotillion, to which Benedict only smiled, they were too far away enough, at arms length, for him to hear anything else she might've said in that moment for the music being so loud.
The music picked up and they began to step in intricate patterns like neighbouring flowers in a plant pot, twisting and twirling around each other.
The next thing Benedict knew they were practically pressed together as more people joined into the dance, the space between them lessened. It occurred to him that this was the closest they had been in years, and to his relief, Victoria broke the ice of this situation.

"I do not think I could have handled a second longer of their chattering, it all just blended into one noise, like sea birds squawking." Victoria giggled, and Benedict laughed too, then twirled her under his arm before regaining the prior position.

"I am glad to have relieved you from the torment." Benedict replied, stepping in time to the music that seemed never ending.

"I'd like to apologise formally for my sisters behaviour, she has later apologised so I pass that to you." She said before twirling away and back again. "I should not have taken her word for truth so quickly."

"It is a simple mistake, I do usually find I trust my siblings too easily also." Benedict smiled widely, but eagerly wanted to break the awkwardness between them. "Thank you for keeping your word." He said.
"Whatever for?" Victoria replied.

"Saving me a dance." Victoria chuckled at this, almost misstepping, which could've sent the couple beside them tumbling to the floor.

Benedict wished to replay this moment in his mind for evermore. Victoria's laughter was like a call that could break him from anything he was doing and send him spinning into some abyss of contentment.
She looked up at him, blue eyes glistening in the chandelier light. He was sure that she was sent here to ruin his life, because there was no way that he could ever break free from her.
Her being was like a drug, but not like the ones that Benedict had maybe done in order to aid his art skills, this was laced with something he couldn't quite put his finger on yet it was so entirely addictive.

The music came to a halt, and Benedict expected them to bow to one another and exit the dance floor, but Victoria whispered something that surprised him.

"Do not let go." She lowered her eyes as they walked slowly from the dance floor, Benedict had the urge to question this request but he knew that he would do anything that she asked.
So he squeezed her hand and smiled to the people watching. But as he rested her hand on his forearm, he could feel a slight shake in her hand like a sort of jitter. Benedict's brows furrowed as he tried to understand what was going on with Victoria.

Peoples gazes began to return to their own business as they both neared the refreshments table, and Benedict watched her shakily pour herself a glass of lemonade before he came to his senses and took the jug from her, pouring them both a glass and allowing her a break.
Benedict passed her the glass.

"Are you quite alright?" He asked.

Victoria looked as though she was going to say 'yes, absolutely, completely.' but he could see something wash over her that changed her mind, then she pointed a gloved finger to the opposite side of the room.

"Do you see that man?" She said, but Benedict couldn't quite identify him in the sea of suitors that occupied the hall. "The man in the dark green dinner suit, red hair." Victoria explained and Benedict spotted who she was on about.

"Yes, what about him?" Benedict asked.
Victoria opened her mouth as if to speak, but slammed her mouth shut, her eyes tearing up at whatever thoughts were churning in her mind.

Benedict stepped in front of her, shielding Victoria from any of the gazes that may still have been lingering upon them. He lightly pressed a hand to her shoulder, in a pathetic attempt of comfort.
Benedict's eyes darted around her face, desperate to understand what was upsetting her so. But her eyes did not lie upon him, but to the man she'd described.

"He killed my mother."