30 Meaningless

12.1K 713 26
                                    

As it turns out, conducting a proper courtship in secret was impossible. Three days after Ella and I had decided to begin seeing each other, we still hadn't actually had any time alone and, the more I wished we did, the more I realized that there was a chaperone rule for a reason. Eventually, we would tell people about our courtship and when that day came, it was imperative that we could prove to society that it had all been conducted on the up and up. That meant we needed a chaperone.

Ella suggested Benthem and Madison. I thought it was our best option. It avoided the trouble with our mothers and her sister that keeping this secret had been designed to evade. Plus, Ella confided in me that she was having trouble keeping such a secret from her best friend. I understood, of course. It wasn't easy keeping anything from Benthem either. Especially when he already suspected, or perhaps even knew something of my feelings. So we had agreed to speak to each of them in private, to request their assistance in this secret courtship. Ella was talking to Madison now. So I was out in the city with Benthem with designs to do the same. Though I wasn't sure what to expect given how our last conversation had gone.

We were at the gentleman's club we had always frequented before our travels to the country. A waiter was setting our glasses of brandy down and asking if we would care for any cigars. Benthem was ordering. I wasn't paying all that much attention, choosing instead to focus on how I was going to tell one of my closest friends that the bachelor he'd met just a few short years ago was considering a change to his entire lifestyle.

"I'm glad you asked me to come out with you today, Victor," Benthem was saying as the waiter walked away. "I love my wife and I see the Harrington women as my own family but I do believe all this wedding planning is going to their heads."

I nodded, holding my glass in my hand but not taking a sip. He did, watching me over the rim of his glass, already realizing something was amiss.

"But you did not ask me here to pass the time with a game of cards, did you?" He asked. I shook my head. He sat back in his seat. "Alright, then. What is it?"

"Ella," I said and his entire manner changed. He looked simultaneously on alert and wary. It was a very brotherly response and almost had me rethinking our choice of he and Madison as our chaperones all together.

"Victor-"

"We've agreed to do this. Properly."

He blinked at me, the surprise clear on his face. I gave him the time he needed to process the information.

"You swore off courtship," he said quietly after a few minutes. My jaw tensed, as did my grip around the glass in my hand. "You said you would never engage in such an antiquated process again. You've never- not since..."

"She deserves a proper courtship."

"I agree," he replied, nodding. "Of course, I agree. I know you like her, Victor. I can tell. And I want you to be happy. But Ella is like a little sister to me. And I've seen how you are around women and-"

"I wasn't courting those women," I interrupted, afraid that if I didn't he would spell out my entire history with women and convince himself against it before I had the chance to make my case. "They were flings. Meaningless. They knew that. I made sure of it. You knew that too, Benthem. So why are you bringing it up now?"

"Because Ella means a lot to me."

"She means a lot to me too. More than you know. That's why I'm doing this. That's why I want to do this the right way."

"Then why are we here?" He asked, looking around. "Why aren't you making an announcement to your mother, to the Harringtons, to the whole town? Why did you bring me here, away from them, to tell me?"

I bit my lip. This was going to be the hardest part to tell him and still find a way to convince him that this is all proper and right.

"Ella wants it to be a secret," I told him. He narrowed his eyes and I could see the disbelief in them before I even got another word out. I sighed. "I know how that sounds coming from me. Especially given my past. But she is afraid that Emily will think the announcement is an attempt to overshadow her wedding and she's concerned about our mothers' meddling influencing the foundation of any relationship we are attempting to form."

"So why not wait until after the wedding?"

"Benthem," I spoke and I hated the desperation I heard in my own voice at my next words, "I can't."

Benthem's smile faltered. He sat back in his seat once more and watched me in the low candlelight of the club.

"We need chaperones," I blurted, needing to finish this, needing to explain before he had the chance to accuse me of any other wrongdoing, regardless of how valid he would be in doing so. "To do this right, we need chaperones. Telling her family is out of the question. Same for my mother. So, you and Madison seem to be the clear option."

"I see," he said slowly. "So this is the only reason you're telling me. If custom didn't dictate the necessity of chaperones, the two of you would be perfectly pleased with keeping this entirely between yourselves."

"Benthem-"

"I need some time to think, Victor. Perhaps even talk to my wife. I never saw fit before to inform her of your... character regarding women but perhaps now I will need to."

"I understand," I told him, trying not to dwell too much on the ice in his tone as I stood from the table. "I will use the restroom and then we can head back for the estate."

He gave me one firm, solemn nod and I left him sitting there and strode off toward the bathroom.

I'd never seen Benthem so mistrustful of me. He'd been there when things fell apart between Gwendolyn and I and I entered my phase of meaningless flings with women who I informed of how I saw them beforehand. He hadn't said a word then, just clapped me on the back and made a crude joke here or there about not seeing why the ladies liked me so well. Even when tensions in the city hit an all time high as society became aware of said flings and what had caused them and I'd needed somewhere to go, a place to run away to, he'd suggested his home town without a second thought and even giddily helped me pack. But ever since I spoke her name, that Benthem was gone.

And when I emerged from the bathroom, I saw that Benthem truly was gone. At least, he no longer sat at the table we'd occupied a moment before. My shoulders dropped as I glanced around the club for him, wondering if he had left, wondering if I would blame him if he had. But he hadn't left. He was still there, standing near the entryway, clapping someone very familiar on the back. When I saw who it was, my heart fell straight to my stomach and I uttered his name in stunned greeting as they both turned to face me.

"Elijah."

Eventually YoursWhere stories live. Discover now