“Mother? Mother, please wake up,” she pleaded, her words shaky.
“Theodore, help her up. We need to put her in bed,” she said. “Call a physician.”
She stayed by her mother’s side, her hand in hers as she prayed that she would wake up.
The scene shifted once again in her dream.
“It’s your first season, dear. Why are you being so rude and standoffish? You will chase all your suitors away,” her mother told her.
“I have no intention of getting married, Mother,” Augusta said simply. “None of this is necessary.”
The Viscountess’s face paled and she stared at her with guilt and tears in her eyes. “Why? Is it because of me, dear? I promise not all marriages are the way that mine was. Please give love and marriage a chance and I promise that you will not regret it.”
“No, Mother, I do not believe in love,” she said. “Stop trying to push this on me. I will not marry.”
“Please, Augusta. Love can be quite beautiful when it is with the right person,” her mother begged, her eyes pleading.
“No… I do not care what it could be with the right person, not when men can lie and deceive. I love you, Mother, but I will never end up like you.” Augusta had not meant to say the last part so harshly, but she did regardless. She touched her mouth in realization, but it was already too late to take her words back.
The Viscountess had frozen, hurt plastered on her face in a way that made Augusta want to apologize. The tears in her eyes slid down her cheek. “I also hope that you don’t end up like I did,” she said finally, “but staying unmarried isn’t the way to stop that.”
Augusta hated that she had made her mother cry but she would not budge on this. “Perhaps not… but it is the best way to ensure it.”
Augusta woke up in cold sweat, her cheat heaving as she looked around her dark room. The candles had blown out at some point. She felt unsettled as though she were sick, but she was not. Everything inside of her seemed to be fighting to eject something.
What is this?
She had not dreamt of her mother in a long time. It almost felt as though her body was trying to remind her of her convictions… but why would she need reminding? Her convictions were still as strong as they had always been… there was nothing swaying them.
As though to prove her wrong, her mind drifted to Benedict and the way that he had made her feel during their date. She gasped as her cheeks flushed.
No, there’s no way I am starting to like him. Is that even possible? I only just met him. This is all just a bet and nothing more.
She tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t. Her mind was stuck on Benedict and the fear that he might unravel everything she had worked so hard to build around herself.
CHAPTER11
“Oh, this is even better than this last one,” Letitia said, excited. She turned around, taking in the heavily decorated space.
Benedict looked around, failing to appreciate the sight of the heavily decorated ballroom, everything decorated mostly in blue. Although his thoughts, when uttered, could come across as rude to the host, it was not intended to be so.
The large expanse of space was occupied by gentlemen and ladies of High Society, their bodies grazing as they milled around, shrinking the space.
He had always hated events like this, often choosing to completely avoid them than to spend the time and energy he needed to last the night. He wished to be anywhere else but at the ball, but his duty to his sister stopped him from doing do.
Unlike every other night at the ball, however, Benedict did not much mind the overly perfumed air mixed with floral accents and the smells of scented oils from bodies. Tonight, while small, a part of him had been eager to join in tonight’s festivities.
He looked around the room now, his eyes searching for the chestnut brown hair and sparkling green eyes that held his interest.
Merely hours had passed since their last meeting, and yet, Benedict found himself counting the hours until he saw her again. He didn't want to dwell on the reason, choosing instead to focus on the fact that they were now courting and were supposed to spend time together. Whether or not that was the whole truth seemed less significant in the moment.
His eyes grazed over the crowd, searching for her tall frame but he couldn’t find her. His brows furrowed as he did one last search, following his mother and sister into the ballroom.
Where are you?
“Benedict, you have been so distracted since we got here. Is anything the matter?” his mother asked, her eyes following his line of sight as she looked with him for whom she did not know.
“Just searching for someone,” he said.
