Sweet Honour- Benedict Bridgerton

25. Behind The Great Oak Tree

For Victoria, the morning came far too early. Before the birds had even started to sing, before the alley cats returned home, before the sun appeared over the horizon. She sat upright in her bed, startled at the abrupt ending of this particular nightmare, an eerie feeling that she was falling thrummed through her. She steadied herself and looked over at the little ornate clock on her bedside table, which told her it was precisely three o'clock morning time. 

"Christ." Victoria huffed and fell back down onto her pillow, she could feel the tenacious hands of the nightmares pulling her back into sleep, but this time she resisted. Not the damp cloth, nor the sleeping tablets or the glass of water on her bedside table would provide her with any solace at all. Victoria rolled her eyes and shifted to the edge of her bed, flinging her feet over and placing them in her slippers. She walked like a Zombie (as described in the folklore her mother told her never to read, but she did not listen) over to her dressing gown on the back of her reading chair, and put it on promptly. It was quiet, so quiet, too quiet. Victoria took two fingers and peeled the curtain away from the window ever so slightly. Quiet, she thought, but peaceful. 

She took her copy of Undine and walked timely to the backdoor, she squeezed her eyes shut as she turned the key in the lock, praying to God that the noise would not wake her family. One deep breath, and it was done. Off into the garden she went. Surely the nightmares couldn't catch her out there.

A little patch of dried moss looked comfy aside a large oak tree, whose branches canopied almost half of the garden and its beings, animals, flowers, insects, and streams. She settled herself with her back against the tree and sighed. 

"May this provide me more solace and comfort than that awful bed." She said aloud, and opened Undine. 

Perhaps an hour or two had passed, she could not quite tell. The sky had gotten a little bit lighter, and a little blackbird had perched itself by the stream, taking turns at drinking the water and singing a tune, so she had guessed it was about five o'clock in the morning. About to turn another page, she heard some rustling coming from behind her. 

Maybe the nightmares could catch her out here?  

She tried not to breathe or blink, and she silently begged the blackbird not to draw attention to her. She squeezed her mouth shut, just incase any sound were to come out of her involuntarily. The rustling continued, getting louder and closer. Victoria allowed herself to take just one breath, to steady herself. Closer and louder and then nothing. She exhaled sharply. Was this all in her head? 

The sound of something -or someone- slumping against the other side of the oak tree caused her to regain focus. Do not daydream it only ends badly. Tin clanking, pencil on paper, a light whistle sounding a soft song. Ever so painfully slowly, Victoria turned her head and leant round to try and see who or what was on the other side. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw sketches on parchment strewn along the mossy floor. A hand reached over to one of them and picked it up, the other hand dropped a deep blue cravat on the ground. In such shock, in a moment of pure mental amiss, the copy of Undine fell from her hand onto the moss with a thump. Victoria tried not to damn herself aloud, and flung herself back against the tree, with another unfortunate thump. She sighed and thence came more rustling.

"Will I ever see you without that book?" Benedict uttered from the other side of the oak tree.

Good God, will this ever end?

"I suppose not, it is a good read." She replied slowly and brought her hand to her chest in an attempt to stop her heart leaping out of it. 

"Victoria, why are you out here at such an ungodly hour in the morning?" He asked, a twinge of irritation in his voice. Victoria sighed, what is his problem?

"Why are you so interested in my whereabouts? I am but a girl reading a book, is there something wrong with that?"

"So defensive and opposing." Benedict said exasperatedly, "You were not always like this. I remember a day where you would tell the truth."

"You wish for me to confide in you?"

"Why, yes. I asked a question and I would like a truthful answer."

"You are not a head doctor." She said.

"You are insufferable." He retorted.

"I know." She sighed and tears stung at her eyes, God, why? 

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, and then it was interrupted by the blackbird's song.

"And so?" Benedict queried again. 

Victoria stifled a sob. There was once a day, that felt so long ago , where a young Victoria and Benedict would sit and watch the sunset against this tree and confide in one another, for it seemed like there was no one else in the world that could understand what they felt, as though they were speaking their own language.

"I cannot sleep, Benedict." Victoria admitted, attempting to carry some riotousness in her voice, but it was covered by a small sob that came from deep in her heart.

"Why not?" He asked.

"I suffer from night terrors... Ben, it's every time I close my eyes. Every time I try to catch a wink of sleep I am stunned into fear." The sobs kept crashing against her lungs, and she could no longer keep such waves of emotion at bay. This was the first time she had actually, truthfully, faced her issue head on. 

"And what about your family? What about... Will?" He uttered the name, his voice stained with jealousy. "Isn't he there for you?"

"He tries his best." Victoria admitted. "Everyone tries, but nothing helps. I have been attending these social gatherings, grand balls, meetings with Lady Danbury and her majesty the Queen on a mere two hours of sleep."

"Victoria." Pity laced his voice, even just uttering her name caused her to fall more in love with him. Some more rustling followed and Victoria looked to her right where Benedict's hand lay palm up on the moss. She let out another sob, whether it was out of happiness or embarrassment it made no difference. She reached her hand out and placed it in his, intertwining their fingers. Victoria relaxed at his touch, and her breathing slowed. 

The silence was sweeter this time, with his touch she felt warmer and more content. 

"Close your eyes." He said, quietly and softly.

"I can't." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I am right here." He squeezed her hand ever so slightly. "Yes you can. We can do anything, right? It's just us."

Victoria nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She let her eyes flutter shut and breathed deeply.

"There you go." He said.

Nothing came for her. No monsters appeared from the darkness. Instead, she felt the warmth of the rising morning sun on her eyelids, as though the brightness of the sun's rays fought against the dark expanse of sleep. Some more rustling followed and she opened her eyes. Benedict shuffled around to her side of the tree and put his arm over her shoulder. 

She looked up at him -internally damning herself for not getting ready properly before leaving her home, she had no clue how dishevelled she might have looked- with a smile, which he returned. 

"Let's watch the sun." He said. "Like the good old days."

Victoria nodded and rested her head on his shoulder, breathing steadily. Involuntarily, her eyes closed, and this time she wasn't afraid.