Sweet Honour- Benedict Bridgerton

14. Peonies

Victoria found peace within her bed yet again.
She had laid there since the wee hours mentally preparing herself for the day ahead, and she was free to weep and wallow until her hearts content. Ada would visit occasionally, bringing glasses of fresh orange juice and a warm hug, her smile allowed Victoria's heart to mellow slightly. Iris was yet to show her face.

Victoria was well aware that this day would change the course of her life, just like the day she was announced diamond and the day her mother died.
She had an awful sense of motion sickness wave over her and she wanted nothing but to sit still in the face of a burning society and think nothing about her appearance to them.

"Sister," Ada said, standing shyly at the door.

"Yes sweet?" Victoria replied.

"You must hurry, the ball is soon and you are yet to be dressed."

"Very well then, help me up." Ada ran over and grabbed Victoria by the hands, pulling her up and out of the bed. Victoria walked herself over to the brown box that laid upon her vanity chair, the parchment enclosing the gown waiting inside.
She gave Ada a kiss on the cheek before running herself a bath in the copper tub, sprinkling rose petals and lavender leaves over the warm water. This was an old ritual her mother had taught her, in times of heartache she may allow herself respite in suds of silky soap cloaked in a lavender aroma. 
She washed until she felt like herself again, before drying off and stepping into her garments and gown with the help of Frances. The gown was that of periwinkle, diamantés and silver thread embroidery cascaded over the dress, making it shimmer in the sunlight.

Victoria sat herself in front of her mirror and began to apply her lip and cheek stain, but stopped when she spotted her sisters face in the reflection behind her.
"I am not filled with malice," Iris said. "And it pains me that you think of me so."
Victoria had thought of many retorts she may make toward her sister, but this garden of disdain would grow unkept until Victoria put and end to it, and maybe it was the best idea to do it before the ball.

"I do not think you filled with malice, sister," Victoria replied. "but I merely do not see any reason why you would go to such great lengths to do something like that."

"My reasoning is more complicated than you may think." Iris said plainly, sitting down on Victoria's bed.

"Well, indulge me so I may be able to try and understand."

Iris began to fiddle with the frayed edges of her shawl. "You have been there my whole life..." Iris said finally. "Mother was only present in a fragment of my life but you, you have been there ever since. I cannot watch you go off and marry into other families, how am I to live without your wise words and," Iris stuttered, holding back tears that gleamed on her eyes in a sheet of sadness. "and your advice, which I may seem to despise most of the time but that is not to say that I never take it into account."

"So, it is solely a matter of my love life? I promise you, sister," Victoria walked over to Iris and took her hands in hers. "if I ever marry it will not be the last you see of me. If anything I will make it my aim to be there every waking moment that I can."

Iris wiped her tears away in one fell swoop, and smiled before taking Victoria into her arms for a hug.
"I am truly sorry sister." She whispered.

Victoria allowed herself to smile too, resting her head upon Iris' shoulder.

"And I." She replied. "I will buy you a new pair of pointe shoes at once."

Victoria and Iris readied themselves for the ball, and walked outside into the sweet air of spring, the bees swooping around the geranium in loops. Victoria was glad to see that at least some form of nature had the energy to step into daylight with positivity.
The carriage ride was swift, the Danbury estate only being a short distance away made it easy, but Victoria's heart beat harder with every second on the bumpy road, her legs felt like jelly as she came to the sudden reality that this particular venue would be filled with socialites.

Victoria stepped gingerly out of the carriage and onto the gravel path.

"Here we go." Victoria whispered to Iris on her left.

"Darling, it has only just begun." Iris replied sarcastically.

They walked in tandem toward the grand double doors, music of a string quartet streamed from them like the gates of heaven imagined.

All eyes were on them, well, they were on Victoria. She was entirely worried that they could see through her, because she could see right through herself as she played up to the facade for their watchful eyes.

Her whole world fell to the ground as her eyes landed upon the blisteringly blue ones that belonged to Benedict.

Every one else in the room disappeared, and suddenly it was just them in that hollow expanse. Victoria wanted to run over to him, to travel that distance and grab his hand and escape to somewhere far from Mayfair.
It was at that moment, that Victoria realised that there would be no distance that she would not travel for him. Victoria could paint every single landscape that could possibly stand in her path, but no ocean, no mountain, no desert scape could stop her.
She would find a way to reach him, and he would hold her in his arms and give her as many freshwater pearls as she liked, so many that she could make a necklace.
She would pick fresh peonies and grind them with oils until a fresh paint was made, and they would watch the tide go in and out while he painted with the peony stain.
There was nothing she would not do for that life.
No path she would not take. Nothing she would not risk.

But to her disappointment, every single other person remained in that room, staring and expecting.
But Benedict smiled softly as they held their gaze, and for once, Victoria understood that nobody else in that room mattered.
She allowed herself to return back to reality, and as she greeted the guests with smiles and curtsies and compliments that felt entirely fake, one thing remained true.
His gaze lasted on her still, imperishable.