Victoria stood and assessed the paintings, her eyes glazing over as she reminisced in their childhood naivety. This emotion was a complicated one, she was not sad, but rather overwhelmingly nostalgic.
'Victoria, the flower beds.' One was entitled, inscribed on the back of the painting in cursive ink. This one intrigued her the most, for obvious reasons.
This painting showcased a beautiful flower bed from bird's eye view, soft lavenders and bright bluebells housed together in the one patch, but some of them were squashed by the imprint of a body. As though someone had fallen into the patch, laid there laughing about it for a moment, and then stepped out of the patch to look down and see the shape of their arms and legs and torso and head encased by flowers.
Victoria knew all about that, and she knew that it was her body that had been encased by flowers after falling into the flower bed on a bright summers day.
She remembered. She closed her eyes. She breathed in the delicate and sweet smell of lavender.
And there she was again in that moment.
She looked up to see Benedict's face, his mouth taut in a wide grin. He pulled his head back to howl out a loud laugh that could break the dusk into morning sun. Victoria was embarrassed, for this had been their first "date". And she might as well have ruined it right then and there. But all he did was outstretch his hand and help her up.
"You are company like no other, Miss Victoria." He said, failing to hold his laugh in as she frantically tried to rake the lavenders out of her hair with her fingers.
He stopped her hand with his, clasping them together and with his other hand he carefully pulled the lavenders from her hair.
On the last lavender piece, he twisted it in between his thumb and forefinger, he brought it to his nose and took in a deep breath.
"They do smell beautiful." He said, in that dreamy voice that could whisk anyone away on a cloud.
Victoria could not yet hide her smile as they walked off past the other flower beds in the garden, careful not to fall into any more.
Or maybe she did want to fall into another, maybe just so that his hand might pick flowers from her hair again as she looked into his concentrated eyes.
The slight smell of lavender faded away as she was brought back into the present moment by rapping on the door. She blinked a few times to rid herself of the image of him infront of her, but no matter how many times she tried, the picture of his face in that moment imprinted itself on her eyelids. But she could not complain.
She turned her head over her shoulder to see Benedict enter the room, his presence come at a convenient time. As though fate had intervened.
"Rating my artwork are you?" He said jokingly as he stood beside her.
"Ah yes, my wise judgement is criticising some," she said as she looked up at him with a smile "but I do believe that this one takes first prize." She pointed to the lavender painting that made her heart grow just a little fonder.
"It is one of my most highly praised, I am glad you have agreed with its other ratings in the past." He looked down to meet her eyes, but his brows furrowed. "Victoria, are you quite alright?" He asked.
"Of course." She said as she looked back at him, she did start to wonder why he was swaying a little from left to right, and why his face was beginning to blur. She blinked harder, both the imprint of him on her eyelids and his own face in that moment were fading.
"Victoria." He uttered, placing a hand at the nape of her neck. "You are burning up, please sit down."
She tilted her head to the side, not quite understanding his fervency. She might have brushed it off and continued to wonder just what he was on about if her legs hadn't given way from underneath her. I am sat, she thought. She laughed slightly at herself. Maybe she had finally given into madness.
Victoria looked up at him as he held her, his mouth was moving wildly but she could not hear what he was saying.
I am okay.
She wanted to say it but her mouth was too stubborn, her lips welded shut and so were resistant to her tries.
He brought her head close to his chest and she felt her neck relax, now limp in his grasp.
Home. She thought.
She let her eyes close, it felt nice.
She would just sleep there for now.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Honour- Benedict Bridgerton
Romance"There's things I wanna say to you, but I'll just let you leave. Like if you hold me without hurting me. You'll be the first who ever did." Victoria Knight grew up in the lovely town of Mayfair, but at the age of seventeen when her mother Lady Knigh...
