Wild Uncharted Waters

Two

"Ah... Ah..."

It was like a spell. Her voice swirled in the air, enchanting all who heard it. And Benedict Bridgerton himself was enchanted by her. The spell of her song found it's way to his chest, tugging on his heartstrings in a way he'd never felt before.

He was lost in her voice, lost in her eyes which seemed to be locked on him. A dazzling smile was upon her face as she sang, highlighting her high cheekbones, one of the many features that made her so breathtaking. And those dark eyes that seemed to shimmer as she gazed out at him. Benedict knew the moment he stared into those gorgeous eyes that he'd be able to spend hours lost in them. She was absolutely stunning.

"Oh my gosh...." He murmured, unable to keep his admiration silent. "Hmm?" Charles glanced over at the man, "My Benedict, you look downright flushed!"

"Oh shush Charles, I'm trying to listen!" Benedict whispered. But Charles knew better. The man's cheeks were tinted with a red blush, his light eyes glossed over in awe.

Charles' followed his gaze, it was set on Lady Campbell, and to his surprise, she was staring directly at him, as though her magical song was dedicated specifically to him.

"Benedict, are you-"

"Charles, for the love of God-"

"Have you seen yourself? You are infatuated! I'd call it love at first sight even." Benedict rolled his eyes, "Love at first sight? That's ridiculous, Charles, you are confusing real life with the romance novels you read."

"Benedict, I assure you, I am seeing perfectly straight, and there is a connection between you two."

There was no denying that. The way she gazed at him was nothing less then desirable. He drew her in, which is why she was now singing only to him. Nothing in the world no longer mattered, it was just them. Two souls connected by a beautiful melody.

It was a sight to behold, and Charles had front row seats to this spectacular display.

But then in one fail swoop, it was gone. In the middle of her aria, Lady Campbell doubled over, coughing harshly, clutching at her throat. Worried gasps flew from the crowd. "Is she alright!?" Someone exclaimed.

Worry and unease was written over the second eldest Bridgerton's face as he watched the woman flee the scene. He turned to face Charles who had a look of shock plastered upon his face, "Should-should I go after her?" He questioned, unsure of what the next move was.

Charles nodded rapidly, "Yes, Benedict go!" And so he did. He shoved past the ton, apologizing in his wake. "My apologies, sorry!" He exclaimed, brushing past Violet, who called after him, "Why Benedict? Wherever are you going??"

He whipped around, trodding backwards, "I will be back soon, Mama!" And it wasn't long before he was rushing out the door and into Lady Danbury's garden in search of a certain damsel in distress.

And yet found no one in sight. "Hello?" A loud cough filled the air again. "Good Lord, is she dying?" He murmured, worry building up inside of him.

He rushed around the garden, calling her name, but was nowhere to be found. She couldn't have run so quickly, especially not with the state she was when she fled the ballroom.

While Benedict was determined to find her, he was beginning to give up hope. His Mother and family would be looking for him soon. Exhaling deeply, he turned the corner, a wave of relief washing over him because at last, he had found her. The beautiful maiden was hunched over, leaning against a trimmed hedge, hacking loudly into a handkerchief in her hand.

Benedict wasted no time in rushing toward her,  "Lady Campbell, are you alright?" He questioned. The woman jumped at his voice, holding the cloth to her mouth as she scurried away from him, not bothering to look at who has found her, "Stay away!" She exclaimed before coughing into the handkerchiefs once more. Once she recovered, the lady groaned in annoyance, muttering a string of curses beneath her breath. If any respectable lady or gentleman who was not Benedict, they would've found her to be very improper about her word choice.

The brunet cleared his throat as to remind her of his presence, "Might I fetch you a glass of water, something, anything?" He offered, wanting nothing more than to help.

She huffed, her temper being tested, "You want to help??" Lady Campbell then whipped around to face him, she spat, "Maybe try and keep you distance-"

The brunette froze, locking eye contact with the man before her. She recognized him immediately. Oh, what an idiot she was. Not only did she recognize this to be the handsome man in the crowd but as-

"Mister Bridgerton." She curtseyed before him, allowing her handkerchief to fall beside her as her wavy hair fell in front of her face. Benedict shook his head, although she could not see, "Oh please, none of that. I am not my brother." Anthony was the Viscount, he was the one who people bowed too, the one people respected the most. Benedict was.. well.. Benedict.

"You come from a respectable family, sir," she said, rising to her full height, she was a fairly tall woman, taller then most of the ton, Benedict noticed, "It would be rude not to pay my-"

Her sentence was interrupted by a cough, this one sounding far worse then the rest which concerned the man, who moved to retrieve her fallen handkerchief, but the woman held her hand out, "Please don't. Do not touch that." But Benedict was known to be a rebel and reached for it anyway.

His eyes widened at the sight of copper blood botching the cream silk of the fabric. Lady Campbell pursed her lips, "I told you not too." She whispered, trying to be as respectful as possible while she snatched the bloody handkerchief from his hand.

"Are you ill, Lady Campbell? Should I fetch for a doctor?"

"No!" She exclaimed, the volume of her voice causing the man to stumble slightly in surprise. Well, he shouldn't have been too surprised, she was very good at projecting, it was shown during her amazing vocal performance. But the outburst just surprised him. A look of regret spread across her face as she sighed, "My apologies, Mister Bridgerton-"

"Please, Benedict is fine." He said, sending her his crooked grin. A soft smile spread across her lips, "I must take my leave, Mister Bridgerton." She said, brushing a stray lick of hair away from her face as she turned away to leave.

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

"Might I know your name?" Benedict questioned. A soft chuckle slipped from her red lips, "You already know, Mister Bridgerton."

"Well yes, Lady Campbell, but I ask to know your first name."

"I cannot say."

"And why not?" He wasn't trying to come off as pressing in any way, but he wanted nothing more than to know the name of the beautiful woman who had seemed to capture his heart.

"Because it is not your information to know."

"Lady Campbell-"

"I must be going now. Goodnight Mister Bridgerton." And without another word, she disappeared into the garden, leaving Benedict Bridgerton stranded alone, left only with the remnants of her angelic song.

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