𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | benedict bridgerton

► trouvé par amour

"I went to see her and she's not at her house," Benedict stressed, pacing frantically. "Benedict," Daphne looked at him in pity, her puppy eyes staring into his. She brought up a gloved hand and placed it onto his muscled shoulder with a soft smile. He shoved off her comforting arm, panic soaring through his veins. He walked around the drawing room, a half-finished painting standing by the window. He couldn't focus. "Benedict, she's probably gone off to think," Daphne told him, straightening out her dress calmly. Her worry was given away, however, by her shaky hands as she drank from a dainty teacup. "You didn't see her," Benedict pointed at Daphne with wide eyes, "You didn't see her face. She was scared. I- I can't- It was awful. I couldn't help her," Benedict said, refusing to cry due to the standards of his family. "Benedict, it doesn't matter, she'll be fine," Daphne rose her voice slightly, her message not being taken in by her erratic brother. "IT DOESN'T MATTER? HOW CAN IT NOT MATTER. THE WOMAN I'M IN LOVE WITH IS MISSING!" Benedict roared, his confession making Daphne subconsciously dropping her tea cup. The hot liquid spilled over the floor, staining the Indian rug which lay over wooden panels. "Benedict," Violet walked in, noticing the violently shaking boy. He looked up at her and stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut with masculine anger. "What happened?" Daphne asked, looking at Violet who stared at the closed door with a sad expression. "I told Marie she would need to marry Benedict if she wanted to pursue seeing him, I am afraid I may have scared her wits," Violet sighed, falling onto the sofa where she snuggled into Daphne's arm. "The girl will come to her senses Mama," She reassured, rubbing Violet's arm as both of them sat there lost in thought. 

►►►

Benedict moped in his bedroom all day, ranging from softly telling Eloise to going away to raging at Colin. Everyone had knocked on his door at least a few times during the day. He tried playing violin and painting and writing and crying and screaming. Nothing helped the ever-largening hole which sat right above where his heart was. "I'm going out," Benedict said to no-one in particular, ignoring Daphne's pleads that he stays home. "Be quiet sister," He said sharply, Daphne sitting down in shock. "Benedict, yes Marie is missing, but that does not give you the right to speak to your family like that," Violet announced, the whole family in the drawing room looking at her. Benedict stared at her, her brown eyes - the same as his - looking right back at him. He tensed his jaw, pressing his hands together. Violet spoke again but he couldn't hear her. All he could hear was the rush of blood going through his body, a slight buzzing. The sound of heartbreak faltering his normal senses. 

Benedict then turned around, grabbing the door and walking out despite Violet's protests. Benedict hadn't seen Marie in a day and he was going insane. He actually loved her. There was no burden like he assumed, no expectations. Just pure unconditional love. To the point that even if she didn't want to marry him, he would love her anyway. And he might one day marry someone else, but Marie will always be there in his heart. His first love. The burning hatred he had for her was really desire and lust and affection which he never had known how to express. But she had taught him. 

He ran out in the rain, paying a carriage-driver to take him to a near bar, Benedict tossing him a few extra coins before heading inside. The bar was small and dimly-lit however packed with drunkards. "A beer and three whiskeys," Benedict ordered, handing over money to the eager bartender who made his drinks right away. Benedict then made his way to the back of the bar where every booth was full. He stood, drinking the strong whiskey in hopes it would make him feel better. She can't have left? Could she? Would she? Thoughts invaded Benedict's head, so many, in fact, that he had to be shaken harshly by a man for him to come to his senses. "Hey there, son, you alright?" The gruff man asked, Benedict nodding and drinking his beer. "Come sit with us," The man said, his hair salt-and-peppered with different shades of grey. The man, introduced as John, was plump and short with a tight shirt and loose suspenders. "This is James and William, some good friends of mine who work on my farm," John explained, ushering Benedict in after them. "Anything happen today, boys?" John asked, explaining to Benedict that he took the day off to spend with his sick son. Benedict slumped into the chair, gulping down one of his three glasses of whiskey, wondering what it would be like to have children with Marie and care for them when they got sick. 

"Well there was word that a posh girl was riding through the fields and her horse fell," William shrugged, tearing up the bread that they'd ordered. Benedict's head snapped up, his eyes wide open. "What else did they say?" He asked, leaning across the table. William looked at him curiously before explaining in more detail. "Sommit about a girl from the upper side falling off her horse and then was lying under a tree for a while," William shrugged. John looked to his left in surprise, a few coins left by Benedict as the boy left in a flash. 

Benedict pulled on his coat, paying someone for their horse and galloping towards where John explained he lived. His horse neighed as the daylight lessened. Benedict shook his head, hoping the drunk feeling would rid itself from his mind. He stopped at a fork in the road, raindrops landing on his cheeks as if to show the heartache he was feeling.  "Excuse me!" Benedict called to a bunch of stable boys. "Do you know where there was word of a woman who fell off her horse?" He asked, tightening his grip on the reigns. The boys stared at him, not saying anything. "I will pay each of you a pound if you can help me find her," Was all he needed to say before the stable boys were on their horsebacks, riding through the thick dusk air towards a large oak tree in the centre of a flooding field. Benedict's throat closed up as he saw a figure lying under the tree. He got off his horse rapidly, running through the mud and water to get to her. He landed on his knees, looking at her white face with a face near to agony. He brushed the wet hair out of her face, looking down and retching at the angle of her leg. "Of course you would know how to tie a reign around your leg to stop blood loss," He said with a sad smile, feeling for her pulse. Tears sprung in his eyes as the weak beat vibrated through his fingers. His tears dropped onto her face, Benedict ignoring the calls of the stable boys. Finally, he got his wits to him and got the boys to get her on a horse, taking her back home.