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Benedict's POV {2 days after the Trowbridge ball}
Benedict sat on a stool at the bar, his drink gripped tightly in his hand as he stared straight ahead. His face was stoic, but the slight downturn of his lip betrayed the pain he was feeling. The news about Elena's engagement had hit him hard and the alcohol only seemed to amplify his emotions.
He took a long sip of his drink as Colin finished reading the article, putting it down. "First Anthony's duel and now this." Colin sighed, staring at his brother, who wouldn't even bother to look at him.
"Well, don't just jump to conclusions like that. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation behind this." He tried to cheer Benedict up.
"What part of 'by becoming officially betrothed to Elena Bennet.' do you not understand, brother?" Benedict rolled his eyes.
"This attitude does not go well with your character." Colin replied. "So, what are you going to do about it?" He asked.
"There's nothing that I can do about it." He said. "The next times we'll see each other, she'll always have her arm wrapped around Lord Hawthorn's. It's over."
He couldn't bring himself to cry in public, instead he anxiously kept biting his nails. Colin signed, leaning forward and patting his brother's back to console him.
The two brothers sat side by side, the only sound between them the clinking of ice in their glasses and the muffled noise from the rest of the bar. Colin knew his brother was hurting, and he felt helpless to do anything about it. He glanced at Benedict, his face etched with a mix of sadness and resignation. They sat in the stillness for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts.
Then a few minutes later,
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Colin coughed on his drink as he recognized the woman who walked up to them. Confused, Benedict turned around and slightly jumped.
Lady Bennet was standing inches away from them, her body language exuding authority and confidence. Her facial expression was stern, and her gaze was sharp as she looked down at them. Her presence was intimidating, commanding attention and respect. There was a certain air of importance surrounding her, an aura that only a woman of her stature could possess.
This was the first time Benedict was face to face with the woman and she was more terrifying to him up close. "Lady Bennet." He greeted.
She flashed him a fake smile. "May I have a word with you, Mr. Bridgerton?"
Not knowing what to say, Benedict simply nodded as Lady Bennet started walking out of the bar. As he was about to follow her, Colin wished him good luck before giving him a shove towards her direction.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Lady Bennett's heels clicked on the floor as she led Benedict into a private office. Benedict glanced around the room, his eyes taking in the oak-panelled walls, the heavy velvet curtain framing the window, the comfortable leather armchairs and the massive oak desk at the centre of the room.
