Matthew looked at him with a sadness, his eyes portraying that he did not believe the words that Benedict had just spoken.
“It is quite all right to look for her, Benedict. You were once betrothed and ready to marry her. Of course, there would be some residual feelings left after what happened. I know it doesn’t just go away just because you will it to, but I believe you can let go of her,” Matthew said.
Benedict chuckled at his friend’s antics. Much unlike him who hid his feelings from everyone, his friend had no problems with embracing his feelings. He often forgot this fact and assumed that Benedict was like him.
Benedict had not realized just how much Augusta occupied his thoughts. Thoughts of her had replaced the anger that he felt at Juliet’s actions and he had not cared for the judgment of the ton.
Am I too focused on Augusta?
Was there perhaps a chance that he was getting attached to her? The last thing he wanted was another woman in his life, not when he had only just unwillingly ended one.
He shook his head. No, he was only focused on her because he was worried about her. Augusta had a knack for doing whatever she wanted. Much like his sister, she was a free spirit who did not wish to be trapped and confined to the laws that governed everyone else. She had created a new wave for herself. Even if it was so small that it barely made a difference.
Benedict looked at his friend and smiled. “You have nothing to worry about, Matthew. It was not her I was looking for but someone else.”
“And who is this person that has got you so distracted from a conversation with your closest friend,” Matthew teased, although his voice held a hint of curiosity.
Benedict exhaled, knowing the reaction he was about to get from his declaration. Still, Matthew had been right when he said he was his closest friend and he saw no reason to hide it from him. Especially since many people had seen them together in Hyde Park and it would not be long since news of it spread around the members of the ton.
“I am actually looking for the lady that I am courting. I have not seen her since I arrived and I believe we were supposed to share a dance,” He replied, carrying on as if he had not just dropped shocking information on him.
Benedict looked at him as Matthew froze in shock, his brain mulling through the words to figure out what I meant.
“You what?!”
Benedict made to answer when he was distracted by a blur of yellow and a familiar face. His attention shifted to Augusta just as he saw her hurrying off, her face a mask of determination.
“Oh dear,” he muttered under his breath. “I think I see the lady I’m courting.”
He hurried after her. He wasn’t surprised when he found that she was headed towards a young lady being cornered by a man, but he did raise a brow when he saw who it was.
Him again? It seems he is truly on the prowl.
Lord Colin was speaking with another young debutante, no doubt wagging his tongue filled with lies and empty promises. Unlike his sister who had him, this young lady seemed to have been cornered alone.
Benedict quickened his steps, his friend following along.
CHAPTER12
“Lord Colin,” Augusta called out. She watched as his shoulders tensed when he heard her voice. The voice that had tormented him for years since she began her first season.
He turned around with a flourish, his rakish charms that he often directed towards young women lost on her. He glared at her, his eyelid twitching rapidly as she moved closer.
“Lady Augusta, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, his voice filling with venom and a coating of charm.
The lady he had only been speaking to looked at him with a frown as though shocked to hear him like that. Augusta smiled, feeling triumphant. As with every time they met, he always allowed his personal vendetta for her stop him from being able to convince the women that he was not the monster she often portrayed him as.
“I believe it will be more of a pleasure for me than it would be for you,” she said quietly, keeping her voice mellow. She’d come to know Lord Colin, more than any other rake she’d dallied with as a result of his heavy promiscuity.
Her run-ins with him were often so frequent that she had come to know what made him tick, one of which being the calmness of her tone when she addressed him.
She could not understand what it was about her tone that ticked him off, but she used it to her advantage, nonetheless.
As expected, his brow raised at the quietness of her voice, his hand balling and unfurling in rapid successions.
“I am sure I do not understand what you are talking about,” he said in an effort to regain control of the situation.
Augusta scoffed, the sound unladylike and yet, having the same reaction as her mild tone.
