Benedict was no stranger to working out in the past. In fact, he still trains weekly to date. Through painting his arms have built up strength, with his fencing he's learned to utilize the power in his legs.
Benedict is strong, but he was barely strong enough to overcome the urges to stride for that bathroom door and knock, but he knew if he was to leave Princess Victoria here alone, she would surely be upset.
The pair did not travel out of the public eye, still close enough for them to be seen by those who grouped in the halls as they could not be alone together unchaperoned.
"So, I've been made aware of the fact that your attention seems to be elsewhere lately." She says, her arms crossing instinctively at the thought of having to compete with someone.
"I apologize, sincerely, your highness." He bows, almost with shame.
Almost.
"At the first reading of Whistledown's papers I was quite unhappy with you, Lord Bridgerton but I'm sure you could already assume that." Benedict couldn't lie, Victoria made him nervous, like a worm on a line waiting to be devoured.
He nods, not daring to interrupt her and letting her speak. "I hope that you are not letting me make a fool of myself by keeping you as the only one I give the honor of spending time with me." She says.
'Give the honor of spending time with me?' Benedict thinks to himself. He wasn't very fond of her arrogance. "My intentions were never to make a fool of you, your highness. My apologies, again." He bows, again.
"Good, I don't know who this other lady seems to be, and neither do you, but I hope you would logically weigh your options before you made any naïve decisions. Especially when I am a princess." He had been unofficially courting Princess Victoria for quite sometime now. He liked her, she was evidently beautiful and not terrible company but they didn't seem to have anything in common.
The two were standing in front of a wall of paintings and murals on the wall, which prompted their next conversation. "Do you like to paint?" Victoria asks him, and he almost bursts from excitement at his favourite hobby being the topic of conversation until something deflated inside him.
He had brought up his interests of painting and all things are-related on numerous occasions. Had she forgotten already? Just when Benedict thought he would be confined to conversing with the Princess all night, he saw you again.
He was attentive. Maybe it was a trait he naturally picked up from being so artistically inclined but he couldn't help how sharp his senses were, especially now that he knew you were near by. He saw the ruffle of your dress for mere seconds before it disappeared behind the front door.
"Excuse me, for just a moment." He excuses himself and goes after you. You were fast. You had been half way down the path towards the orchard where there lies a large maze, one that he knew he must beat you to before he lost you again.
It was like torture, being mere meters behind you but unable to call you by your name.
He grabbed onto the hand gently, stopping you in your tracks.
Or at least, who he thought was you.
The woman turned around, she had your similar complexion but entirely different faces.
"I am deeply sorry," Benedict apologizes, his hand let hers go, praying no one had seen the embarrassing moment that just passed. The woman walks away, he watches what little hope he had left in him walk away from him. Maybe he was really losing it.
No.
He watched the dress with a focused gaze. The carnations sewn into the dress were unique, maybe enough to be one of a kind. He was certain that's what you were wearing when he had seen you exiting the ladies room earlier before you went back in.
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Masked Hearts: A Bridgerton Story
फैनफिक्शनBenedict Bridgerton x Black Reader After travelling suspiciously from one end of England to the other The Russell's find themselves in Mayfair right in the heat of courting season, but Ayesha wants no role in such a thing. Or so she thought. This s...
