Sweet Honour- Benedict Bridgerton

5. May 3rd 1805

The Day That It Happened (flashback)

Victoria's home was eerily quiet, hauntingly quiet. It has been four days since the death of her mother and it was as though the world was held at a standstill. Her father had given her the news that morning, that they would leave in respect and mourning for their mother. She didn't really understand why he would justify it so, but she knew that she had to go along with it, merely out of respect. But something plagued her all morning and evening and night. How was she to say goodbye to the Bridgertons, most importantly- Benedict.

How she was going to say goodbye, she didn't know. A letter perhaps? Or to leave with no word at all? But she was better than that, so, she slipped away from the dreary presence of her father and went into her back garden, where the stone laid path led into the woods, directly between her house and the Bridgerton's house. She knew she'd find him there, painting the stream or sketching some abnormality in the shape of the trees. And there he was, perched on a rock, quill and pad in hand.

He looked so enthusiastic to see her. "Vic!" He jogged over, discarding his belongings on the forest floor, to take Victoria into his arms. "I was beginning to worry," he said into her shoulder.

"I'm glad that you are well enough to leave your home, even to see me." He grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"Passably." She said, but she felt nothing but fake in his arms, she loved it really but she knew what she had to do and it broke her into a million pieces. "I need to speak with you."

"Yes, that is what we are doing." He chuckled.

"I mean, seriously. I wish to speak seriously."

"Of course." He said.

She didn't know how to start, so she walked over to a rock and perched herself upon it, picking up a pebble and tossing it up in the air. He sat down beside her, she knew he was worried but maybe that was a good thing. He would never believe that what she was going to say was true unless she really acted it.

"I'm leaving." She said, unmoving, she could not look at him.

"Leaving?" His voice cracked in the middle of the word, adolescence had its effect on him.

"My family and I. To Cornwall. My father cannot stay in our house." She choked on her words. "He says he feels my mothers presence, that he finds it overwhelming." She could feel the tears on her face now, they were cold just as her heart and she could feel him go still by her side.

"It is alright, we can write to each other, I do not think the mail man should take long between correspondence. You could stay at my home and we would accommodate you while you decipher a solution."

She shook her head because his optimism irked her, she just wanted him to be upset and angry and leave her off of his own accord. "I have no reason to stay, nor do I have a reason to write to you." She wanted to scream, to apologise profusely and admit her undying love for him, but it was impossible. He stood up, looking down at her and she could do nothing but look back, his eyes were red and teary and it broke her.

"You have no reason? What about me? What about the life that you have here?"

"I do not have a life here, as far as I am concerned."

"You are callous." He paused, she thought maybe for effect but she could see it in his eyes that he really meant it. "I spent all of my days with you, since we were six years old Victoria, now you tell me that you do not have a life here? What about last summer," He took her hand in his, "when I told you that- that I would travel across sea and land for you? That I loved you." He faltered.

"I do not love you." She pulled her hand from his, her eyes were streaming with tears now, but yet she remained unmoving, a statue in disdain for her words. He began to plead for her to stay; he shook her shoulders, brushed the tears from her cheeks, held her hands, paced up and down, tore up the paper in his pad, snapped is quill in half, trudged through the water in the lake.
All while Victoria remained inert and silent.

"Please stay, dear Victoria, I cannot bear to think what I will be without you."

"You will soon forget all about me, about everything that we- about it all. I will be nothing but a memory."

"You are heedless. You cannot mean it!" He had lost all touch of his gentile manner, he was usually so caring, so comforting, bursting of hope. But now his skin was pale as though he might faint, she felt it in her heart too, but there was absolutely nothing she could do to ease either of their pain.

"Good bye, Benedict." She hesitated but she stood up and walked away, leaving him alone in the woods, staring at her back while she drifted from his life like smoke rising from a bonfire.