The Second Born Bridgerton // Benedict Bridgerton

An hour

"Gretna green?"

"Yes, my dearest. I am afraid that seems to be the only feasible option we shall have. But I promise you that once we are married, I shall do everything in my power to make up for the fact that you will have had such a rushed wedding. It is far from ideal-"

"It is exactly ideal. I have wished to run away with you to Gretna green from the very day I have met you. This does not phase me, Benedict. This is what I have dreamed of." I cannot help but smile, pushing my lips against his as his hands cup my face. "If it means I am to be with you then I do not care if it is the most rushed wedding in the entire world. If it means I shall be your wife by the end of the night then so be it."

"You must pack a bag. It is a fair way from London and we shall be away for a few days at the least. You must bring a dress and anything else you will need... whatever else it is you ladies need. I shall go and do the same." Benedict smiles at me with that lovely smile, kissing the crown of my head as his hands continue their soft grasp around my face.

"You shall pack dresses and whatever ladies need too?" I tease, and he reacts with a small chuckle, kissing my head once, twice, three times. "Now you must figure a way to get out of this window."

"And not end up with a broken leg for the wedding. It shall be difficult, but I am sure I shall manage. I shall see you in an hour." He nods, slipping back from the window and climbing down the vines. I watch as he stops at the bottom to straighten his jacket, before he approaches his own house to climb back through his window. I assume no one knows he has left and so he cannot simply walk through the front door, and I must admit how entertaining it is to watch him struggle through the open gap.

Once I am sure he is in and he is okay, I begin to pack. As I start to look through my dresses, I realise I do not own a single one that is not purple, other than the lilac one I had made when mother was not around and that I wore when the bridgertons came for dinner. I could not use that as my wedding dress, in fact, I refused to. I did not have many other options, however... unless....

I sneak from my door, only because I do not wish to see either of my parents for them to involve me in conversation once again. I have had rather enough of talking. I move towards Marina's room, slowly, and I am almost sure I have succeeded before I hear a voice from behind me. "Peaches? What are you doing?"

I turn around so that I may see Penelope, who stands with a candle in hand so that she might illuminate the entire hallway. I hesitate as I look at her. I am no longer sure of the way I feel about this certain sister. "I wished only to ask Marina a question."

"You should not sneak out. Do you not think you are in enough trouble?" Her voice is hushed, she does not wish to have to engage either out mother or father in conversation either. "You must go back to your room and you must not sneak out... you shall only make things worse for yourself, Peaches."

"And what is that? Another threat, dear sister? I do not know why you have informed lady whistledown of what you have but I know you must be involved. I do not think you know quite what you have done, I do not think you understand quite what lady whistledown has suggested of me and of Benedict. I... If you wish to tell her more then tell her I am to marry tonight, tell her that she has gotten whatever strange wish she had of ruining me, and that I rush to Gretna green." I take a step towards Marina's door, and this causes Pen to begin to try and beckon me into her own room. "What is it, Pen?"

"I... I cannot say whilst we are in the hallway. I cannot." She shakes her head and disappears back into her own room. A little reluctantly, thinking of marina's pretty white dresses and the hour time limit that I have, but I follow her nonetheless. "Peaches I cannot say anything other than I am sorry. I was angry with you, and I was so angry that I have caused all of this. I was exactly as immature and as childish as you said I was, I wrote those things of the pair of you and I had them published. I... I do not expect that you shall forgive me. I should not forgive myself for what I have done. I knew as soon as I sent it to the printing press that I has done wrong, I knew as I was writing it that I was doing wrong, but I... I was so full of rage and all of the emotions I have never been able to express... after all that has happened with Colin and Marina as well, I was in such a state and I make a horrible, horrible mistake. I shall fix it, lady whistledown shall fix it. I... I have written something to publish already so that I might try and control the damage but I... I am sorry. To you and to Benedict. I am... sorry. Can you forgive me?"

I watch her for a moment, shocked with the revelation that she is lady whistledown. I was not too fond of her writings and had never obsessed over them as everyone else had but I was still aware that what she was admitting to me was not to be sniffed at.

Next, I came to think of her apology, and the question that she has posed to me. She stands in front of me, sniffling and holding back tears, and I believe that she means all of it. I cannot believe what she has done, of course not, or the things she has said about me. It proves she is certainly not as clueless about some matters as I had always assumed she was... but could I forgive her?

Could I forgive and forget as Lord Granville told me to? Did she deserve to be forgiven?

I must make my mind up with haste, as my hour to meet Benedict begins ticking away.