Chapter Twenty-Four: Benedict Comes to a Decision [Part One]

✦ Author's note ✦

Dearest Readers,

I apologise for the lack of updates, life and work have been quite busy. However, I have finally got around to writing the next chapter and I am happy to share it with you. Some of you requested a Benedict POV, so here you go, in the next two chapters, we'll get into our beloved and favourite Bridgerton brother's head. Thank you, Kayla, for being my editor, your insights are always invaluable.

Enjoy,

L.H.

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Benedict had always known he wanted to get married. Most men, of course, knew that they get married and a great majority of them eventually reached the point where they do so on their own volition and not because of the constant nagging of their mothers, something Benedict was closely familiar with. But he , ever since he was just in leading strings, that he wanted to find a life partner and settle down with, preferably in the countryside, separate from his family. He would visit, of course, but he wanted to live his own life in peace and quiet, away from the meddlesome ton, scrutinising gazes and constant social pressure of the city. He wanted to find a wife he would cherish and, in exchange, she would adore him to bits, and a few children who would look up to him for any mediocre achievement. He did not have strong preferences for a woman, although he has always been partial to long, silky blonde hair and small, petite women whom he could encompass in his embrace. He has never been blind to beauty and luckily he could find something he liked in almost any woman, a slender waist, a freckled face, a shy smile, rosy cheeks coloured by blush. He absolutely loved when women blushed and more importantly when he was the cause of it. And what he enjoyed the most was when women took pleasure in his company, when they melted under his touch, trembled with anticipation for his kiss, and whispered his name in pleasure. He enjoyed the effect he had on women and he rarely had any trouble finding willing participants to satisfy his needs.

But unlike his brothers, he wanted to settle down. Anthony was a rake, quite an infamous one, there was no shame in speaking the truth. He had introduced Benedict to brothels on his eighteenth birthday and he was a frequent and well-liked visitor of them. He constantly had a mistress, sometimes even more than one, and he, ever more so than Benedict, was always popular with the ladies. But at the end of the day, Anthony was very well aware that as head of the family it was his duty to sire an heir. Therefore, the day would come when he needed to find himself a viscountess and start his own family. For now, Anthony was doing his best to delay the inevitable and was falling head over heels in love with the opera singer Sienna Rosso. And he probably hadn't the faintest idea. Benedict knew his brother better than anyone else and he was sure that there was yet hope for him, but it would take one incredible woman to twist his stubborn head and knock some sense to it. Good luck to anyone who would attempt to try it.

Then there was Colin who could enjoy a few more years of escape from the attention of their mother. Benedict wasn't privy to Colin's affairs with women. It was quite certain, however, that Colin was constantly running away from any kind of responsibility under the excuse of his adventures. Surely, travelling had its appeal and Colin truly seemed to be invigorated every time he returned from abroad, but he never courted any young lady with serious intentions, even if he courted more of them than Benedict and Anthony put together. If Anthony had the reputation of being a rake, Benedict of being mysterious, Colin was surely the charmer of the Bridgerton brothers, the golden boy, mamas' and debutantes' favourite and the addressee of many heartfelt but never sent love letters. Whereas their mother's attention was focused on Daphne for the Season, she found the time to make subtle and not so subtle comments about her sons' lack of marital status.

Benedict never held any reservations against marriage, he simply had yet to find his match. He wasn't particularly inclined to settle either, after all, he was in his prime, but if the right lady was to cross his path, he wouldn't let her slip through his fingers. He has participated in many seasons, danced with hundreds of debutants - many standing by the walls on his mother's orders - and sometimes even called on some of them. Albeit, none of them has captured his genuine interest or could engage his attention. He was a hopeless romantic. He imagined that someday a lady of his dreams would just walk into his life, he would feel it in his bones and it would rush through him like lightning with such intensity that he could barely stand still. That was the feeling he anticipated, the feeling he craved. He wanted to fall in love utterly, painfully and irreversibly so he would feel it in every fibre of his being. So, it would turn him inside out, turn his world upside down and that the epicentre of his universe would be that sole person. Love would ruin him. It would pay no heed to reason or sense. Because he imagined that if one were to love there was no point in doing it half-heartedly; that it became impossible to hold any reservations or inhibitions, to hold back, to tame his passion if the other felt the same.

It was completely different with Franny. He first saw her the day she made her debut and insulted the Queen in front of everyone, having escaped beheading only by a hair's breadth, retreating among the whisperings of the ton. He was taken aback by her audacity. She met his eyes and there was no shame or demureness in them; no, she looked at him squarely, perhaps she even tilted her head ever so slightly as if daring him to make a judgement. He knew instantly that she was different. It was refreshing, unique and ... compelling. From that moment on she has been in the back of his mind as a thought one could never clearly trace and yet could never get rid of. The next time he saw her was at the Season's opening ball at Lady Danbury's, standing alone, sipping some champagne. His eyes immediately shifted to the orange spot on her inner forearm. At first glance, he couldn't tell what it was, but then it dawned on him it might be paint which intrigued him very much. He started to wonder... Did she paint? Did they share the same passion? And then, as if she could feel his gaze on her, she looked up, and once again engaged his eyes in a defiant manner. That made his blood rush. But just before he could approach her, Wetherby appeared in front of her and he continued to be a constant obstacle. Benedict did not mind some competition, on the contrary, being part of a large family, he grew quite accustomed to it. Wetherby was a formidable opponent when it came to courting; his amicable, smooth manner, polite and kind demeanour coupled with a handsome countenance made him one of the favourites of match-making mamas. Indeed, even Benedict had to admit that Wetherby resembled a Greek god. He remembered that once a young lady fainted after receiving one of his impeccable smiles. Women were literally falling for him. However, despite all his favourable qualities and rich social life, Wetherby never seemed to declare serious attention towards any of the eligible ladies. And as surely no one would say no to him, apparently, he hasn't made any proposals of marriage either. Therefore it was rather ironic that he chose the sole debutant who declared it loud and clear that she had no intention of marrying anyone. But, if Benedict was self-critical, and he was proud to say he possessed a great sense of retrospection, it did not stop him either. Or at least not till he had the chance to investigate the validity of the claim up close.

So he started pursuing Miss Granville, who has become quite infamous for her talent in scaring her suitors away. Colin was curious to find out whether the rumours were true and he admitted that she did live up to her reputation. Benedict was growing impatient to meet her, and his chance finally came. He walked up to her, they talked and laughed. He quickly discovered that she was witty, observant and outspoken. She did not hide her opinion under the bushel which was refreshing. In a society organised around unspoken social rules, feigned swoons and artificial chitchat it was pleasant to meet someone who spoke her mind. And under the sarcastic surface, she was kind when she did not pay attention to hide it, it shined through her, especially when she smiled. He wanted more. He wanted to slip her hand into his, feel her in his arms, and spin her around the dance floor. However, she refused to dance with him, and not even properly, but with a wave of a hand as if she didn't believe his offer was genuine. Now that was a first; no one has ever turned down his offer of dance before. It t hurt his ego, but luckily he possessed a healthy amount of confidence not to be deterred by a small obstacle. Of course, if her lack of interest was obvious, he wouldn't pursue her, but at that point, he couldn't clearly tell where they stood. In the meantime, his brother also had to engage her in a mock war of flowers, which, as he later learnt, led to some confusion about who was sending which flowers. That was a shame as Benedict thought that he has rather brilliantly and subtly, just as he figured she would like, been courting her the whole time. Nevertheless, it did offer him an opportunity to tease her and he soon discovered how natural bickering with each other was. She was in her element when they were bantering delivering witty replies and sharp-tongued punchlines, keeping him on edge, making him laugh. He engaged with her easily, meeting her intelligence and humour and there never seemed to be a silent moment between them. Just before they could devise their devious ruse of getting back to Colin, Wetherby, who had no tact for feeling when he was unwanted, interrupted them. Franny, green she was, was completely oblivious to the vying in front of her and left both of them hanging when they asked her to dance. After overcoming the initial shock, Benedict laughed out loud as the situation was absolutely hilarious. Only Frances Granville could turn two gentlemen down at the same time without even noticing.