Sweet Honour- Benedict Bridgerton

16. Good Gods

(return to Victoria's pov)

Benedict had led Victoria into an out of the way room, free from the view of the man that caused her mothers death.
But as she sat down slowly upon the chaise lounge, her heart was away from her and her spirit on another planet entirely.
This man returning knocked the wind out of her, just as her life took a turn for the better, something came along to create a pothole in the road.

And seeing his face, he stood there pale as a ghost. He had wrinkles that cut deep into his skin, thick eye brows that resembled caterpillars placed above his eyes, and a short and stumpy frame that hid inside his emerald green tailcoat.

"Are you truly being serious?" Benedict blurted out as he sat beside Victoria, placing a gentil hand on the small of her back.

"Benedict, I would not lie about something as serious as this." But Victoria paused, and turned to face Benedict, taking his hand to stop the shaking that thrummed through her. "Although, he technically didn't kill my mother."

Benedict's head cocked at this, like a dog questioning their owners instructions.
"What is it that you mean?" He asked, brows furrowed in deep confusion.

Victoria chewed on the gum of her cheek as she contemplated telling him the truth about this. But her heart was racing like the horses on a racetrack. Victoria found it difficult to come to terms with the reasons for her mothers death alone, and she feared that repeating it would thrum all of that terror right back into her.
She felt herself begin to tremble, it was pathetic and she knew it, but her body would not listen to her demands to just stop shaking.
Benedict's hand gripped hers just that little bit tighter, and she felt her heart begin to deflate from this panicked state.

"You can trust me." He said slowly, to which Victoria nodded.

"My mother was very ill for a while, my father never told us why so my siblings and I would always question what was happening. At one point, my father got so desperate to save her that he phoned every doctor in the region, asking for help or treatments. All but one doctor said that they could not help, that it was out of their field." She paused, regaining her composure.
"But this doctor, the man we saw, he said that he had a cure for my mothers illness." Victoria felt herself choke up, saying this next part was the most brutal thing that she never thought she'd say again.

Benedict continued to place a gentle hand on her forearm, but this time Victoria did not feel comforted.

"To what I know, he injected my mother with some sort of medicine. But she... she began to convulse and then died hours later." There was streams coming from her eyes now, and there was no way that she could hold it back. Her heart was spinning, contorting in ways unimaginable.

Benedict's eyes darted around her face, she could tell that he wanted to help but she could no longer speak, it was as though the words were pulled from her.
She was helpless.

"Why is the bastard not in prison?" Benedict asked, a fire of rage breathing in his eyes as he looked toward the door.

Victoria shook her head, and tried her best to string up a sentence that may be coherent.
"My sister, please my sister."

Benedict understood at once and darted out of the room. Victoria fiddled with her dress, assessing the diamonds and pearls in an attempt to distract herself.
It was as if the curtains were closing, the last bow, the final act. Victoria was slipping away into the chasm of anxiety, and the knowledge that the most dreadful man in her life was standing somewhere outside that door sent her into a spiral.

Benedict returned with Iris, with her looking incredibly flustered and confused, chastising Benedict for leading her into a room unchaperoned. But Iris's face fell from confusion to panic when she noticed Victoria practically hyperventilating on the sofa.