The day had not turned out the way he planned it. He wished he could forget about it but he knew that would be impossible to do.
Perhaps he had misheard or it was a small animal. With one last glance at the bush, Benedict shoved his hand into his pockets and walked out of the garden, ready to go home.
CHAPTER20
Benedict was stunned. He’d spent so much time with Augusta faking their courtship that he didn’t realize how much of it had become real until she confessed her feelings to him.
Or perhaps he did. Perhaps he’d known all along but was content to hide behind the veil of friendship and a bet so he could carry on with seeing her whenever he wanted to without having to feel like there was anything more to be expected from it.
On the carriage ride back home, he felt no less than cow dung. He’d let her go off feeling like she meant nothing to him. Now she’d think he was exactly the way she had imagined men to be.
He loved her. He didn’t know when it turned into something real but the moment she confessed her feelings for him, he knew he felt the same.
He ran a hand up and down the length of his face, suddenly exhausted by the thoughts raging through him.
How could she have been so bold despite all she’d been true and you let yourself be held back by the same fear you’ve had all your life?
Benedict hadn’t meant to act so loosely with her like he was a rake who cared only for his pleasure and nothing of her feelings, although he had to admit to himself that that was exactly what he’d done.
He’d kissed her when he had no business doing so considering their relationship fell back to just a bet. And when she’d confessed her feelings to him, he should’ve been overjoyed and taken the next step by confessing his own feelings so they could have a real relationship.
He couldn’t believe that day had come when he would be called a rake and it wouldn’t be useless drivel in the lips of someone whose only purpose was to offend.
I should make things right… I need to do so but what can I do?
Confessing to her was likely what she wanted from him, but the thought of doing that sent nausea tracking up from all the drinks he’d had after she left him standing there.
Benedict trudged up the stairs to his study. He’d seen the weird looks he received from his mother and sister, although they’d been gracious enough not to say anything or ask any questions. The last thing he needed was to be pestered into speaking about how he truly felt.
Benedict exhaled sharply, pouring himself a drink from the decanter. He tipped it, upending the contents straight into his mouth. He welcomed the burn that came as the hot liquid slipped down his throat burning all the way down to his stomach.
He was happy with the way things were beginning to develop between them. It was great to know that his feelings were reciprocated, no matter how underdeveloped they were. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to approach things in a way that would be better for both of them without him having to discomfort himself.
Benedict sighed and got up from his seat, shutting the door of the study behind him. He strolled along the hallway, walking down the stairs out into the gardens. He took a deep breath, the lovely night air cooling his heated body from the alcohol in his system. He lifted his head up and looked up at the sky. It was a full moon, beautiful and bright. He should’ve been able to enjoy it and yet he couldn’t.
The sound of leaves rustling caught his attention, pulling him away from his thoughts. He jerked backwards as a figure stood suddenly. He had not realized he wasn’t alone. He squinted his eyes to figure out who it was and smiled when his mother waved him over.
“What are you doing out here, mother? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he asked her, sitting beside her. Her nostrils flared before scrunching up and she looked him up and down.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked him in return, evading his question.
“Only a little. I had a glass when we returned.”
She nodded. “I come out here on the nights when I think of your father. It’s one of the things that helps me get closer to him.”
She fingered a rose petal, a soft gentle caress to avoid bruising the petals like she’d told us a while ago. “Your father knew how much I loved flowers. It was one of the first things I told him about myself on our first promenade. I didn’t realize he remembered it still until after we were married. The garden was nothing more than bush growing beyond its bounds back then.”
Her eyes scanned the area and she let out a small laugh like she’d heard a joke. “He blindfolded me as he led me here, and somehow, I knew that he’d fixed the garden. What I didn’t know, however, was the lengths he’d gone. He made sure that all my favourite flowers were exactly where I wanted them to be. I was so touched by the work he’d put into it but even more so, I was touched by the fact that he had the one quality I always hoped for in the man that I married. He listened.
“Now I come here when I miss him and wish to tell him that because I know that he’s forever listening to me,” she finished, patting his arm gently as she went back to staring out into space.
They sat quietly for a moment, her legs crossed at the ankle and his spread out in front of him. She turned to Benedict suddenly, her lips stretching out into a small smile.
“Now, tell me. What is it that had you coming out here in the middle of the night? Because you never do. I’d like to know what my son is thinking about so seriously that has him staring at the moon so deep in thought.”
Benedict sighed as he prepared to tell her. He needed someone to speak with if he ever wanted to truly find a way out of his situation.
“It’s the lady I’m courting. We had a fight,” he said.
