ME:
NO. You cannot BEGIN ANOTHER FIC while you have two other WIP's including the one about Anthony Bridgerton. I know you want to write about Ben, but you should finish up the other ones first. You have a job now, a home to manage and no time to write.
ALSO, ME:
I AM GONNA WRITE THE BEN FIC. NOW.
Sigh. Anyway, quick mention: the name Alina is not derived from "Shadow and Bone", I had the idea of calling this character Alina prior watching the show just FYI.
This fic mentions Anthony being married to Mara Kensington but takes place a few months back as to where we are with Last Chance. Anyway. Hope you enjoy. Sorry for errors, as per always.
xxxxxxx
Benedict stretched extensively. Last night had been wonderful, his tryst with the seamstress of spurious French origin (he kept her secret diligently) pleased him. Most of all he liked the fact that she left him free... No, they were both not under the impression that more would come from this 'relationship', which she herself reminded him of.
She had no illusions about the 'class difference' and assured him that he was not her only 'admirer' that she was not languishing in the moments when they did not see each other. Conversely, Benedict also dabbled with other ladies and sometimes... they even did it together.
So he had no reason to complain and he often was so good-humoured in fact that few would be able to catch him angry. He had a kind word for everyone and as he liked to tease his large family, there was never a grain of maliciousness in it. No, Benedict lived a nice life and was content with it.
His mother did nag him occasionally, no that his brother Anthony had married a certain Mara Kensingon in a hurry to prevent scandal a couple of months ago. To their collective shock as a family his brother appeared to be happy and Benedict's mother, Violet reminded him that it was time for Benedict to find a suitable candidate to wed for himself. Benedict was not concerned about that notion, not now at least. Lady Whistledown, however, found it necessary to write about him every x as a 'desirable bachelor' so that at every event he attended he met a frequent variety of daughters and their mothers who spontaneously stopped him for a chat.
Benedict yawned and realised that he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night and that thought made him grin a bit. When he yawned once more, he lay down and closed his eyes... just for a moment.
He was not allowed to fall asleep; his mother expected him to chaperone them to the Bailey's ball since his brother was now married and no longer took on these duties.
He woke up when it was dark and looked around.
It took him a few minutes to realise where he was and when he did, he nearly had a heart attack. He still had time, but he had to hurry, and hurry he would.
The first thing he had to do was to get away unseen, which he usually did, but it sometimes happened that some seamstresses stayed behind who, for whatever reason, were running late for work. He would wait patiently for them to leave so that he could get away quickly, but today he had no time for that!
He had to take the risk of someone recognising him, not that he expected it, but just to be sure. Benedict quickly got dressed, grabbed his shoes, and then stood on the landing to hear if anyone was downstairs. Fortunately, he heard nothing or no-one, so he went downstairs, reassured. Benedict was almost at the exit of the sewing shop when out of nowhere a girl, no woman, came out of one of the rooms.
They were both suprised to encounter each other but she even more so because she dropped a dress from her hands, which undoubtedly should not have fallen on the floor... She looked at the garment as at him and quickly picked it up.
"Apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." Benedict said apologetically.
She didn't say anything for a long time and then mumbled "not to worry Sir" while staring at the ground.
"Excuse me" she said after a little while as she went to the shop without looking at him and draped the dress on a mannequin. Benedict turned and looked at how carefully she wrapped the dress around the mannequin and then smoothed it over and he did not know why but the whole thing fascinated him.
He walked towards the door and then stood in the opening.
"Did you sew that?" he asked, not knowing why again but wanting to know anyway. Again, she looked at him slightly startled, obviously not expecting his question.
"Yes sir..." she said while reverting her gaze back to the ornately decorated light blue dress.
"Very nice... Although I don't know much about dresses. Well, my sisters commission theirs here but um... that's ... certainly a... nice dress" he stammered.
What in God's name was wrong with him? Sharing details like that and besides... why was he talking to her at all, he had to leave.
She whispered a brief thank you, her eyes still directed towards him but towards the dress.
"Well, um, good night," he said, but then he noticed something that should have struck him a long time ago. She had a few feathers stuck in her hair, which she apparently hadn't realised until now.
"Oh..." Ben laughed after a couple of moments and he pointed to her... "You have something in your hair, some little feathers" upon which she furiously tried to remove the things from her hair, but it refused to budge.
"Wait, hold still... I'll get it "he said taking a few steps forward, but she retreated and flinched so badly he halted in his movement, staring at him in utter fright and taking short, irregular breaths.
A second later, she raced past him and hid in one of the sewing rooms. Benedict had to listen carefully, but he heard it just as well, she was crying.
He walked slowly in the direction of where the sound came from and opened the door very carefully and saw her sitting and crying over some sort of desk.
She was so wrapped up in her own emotions that she didn't hear him, so in order not to startle her he cleared his throat. Her tearful, but beautiful brown-greenish eyes Benedict noted, looked up at her instantly and she immediately stood up and wiped her tears.
"Are you alright?" he asked to which she declined to give a comment, but she clearly wasn't as she stood there trembling. The atmosphere was tense, very tense and both wanted to get out of the shop at that moment, yet Benedict found that out of the two, he could not move.
She however was just about to walk away until he spoke again, and it was none of his business but maybe he could help her with something. If someone were troubling her, he could perhaps make a complaint at the constable for her, on her account, or help her out in some other fashion.
"I know. I uh know this is not any of my business but did someone... hurt you?" he asked after a few minutes, but she didn't give him an answer but started to tremble even more.
"No Sir and I am fine thank you", she lied.
Benedict almost wanted to ask her if she was telling the truth but decided to go for a different approach.
"Are you sure? You don't seem fine", he said.
"Thank you for your concern but I assure you I am" she spoke in a soft voice.
A moment later he could see her think about something frightening because suddenly her expression was filled with anxiety.
"Please... don't tell Madame Delacroix about me crying. Please sir. I need this job" she said before turning away, grabbing her coat, running past him, and making a quick exit.
Benedict remained standing for a while, looking towards the exit long after they had left.
He heard the door open again and suspected it was her, but it turned out to be Genevieve.
"Mon Chérie.." Genevieve said in a drawling tone as she put her fingers on his face and her lips on his.
" I thought you had a ball to attend to, what are you still doing here? Are you planning on not going?" Genevieve asked.
"No, I do intend to attend the likely incredibly boring ball, but I overslept so it seems. Sorry." smiled Benedict apologetically.
"Nonsense, dear... You can always stay, as long as you like" said Genevieve with a wink.
"Thank you. I ... I really have to go now" he said, and he bend over to kiss her.
"Until next time then" grinned Genevieve in a seductive way when he pulled back.
Benedict walked towards the door but but something in him prevented him from going, so instead he turned to Genevieve.
"Um... I ran into someone, one of your staff... She is uhm, not very tall, greenish-brown eyes, black hair, and" he wanted to say something about her curvy hips, too, but refrained at the last moment.
"Oh really, I know who you're talking about. That girl. I told her she could go home but she was working late again, being the perfectionist that she is. However, you don't need to worry about her, she is the most reclusive person I know but the best employee really. Works hard and is good at her job, does not complain. Hardly speaks at all, which can get a bit frustrating at times I'll admit. The other ladies' cackling gives me a headache now and then, so I don't mind her being so silent."
"I think your secret is safe with her but if you want, I can talk to her about it tomorrow and -".
"No... no. That's not necessary at all. " Benedict interrupted, thinking about how the seamstress request her employer would not find out.
"Fine, then I won't" she smiled. "Is there anything else?" frowned Genevieve curiously at him as he still hadn't left.
"No, not really but... I may have scared her a little with my presence. Maybe next time, I won't, not that I want to run into her of course, but if I do, I might apologise to her.... What's her name?"
"Ah what a darling you are, so sweet", Genevieve said as she took a few steps towards his side.
"Her name is Alina Kennedy" she said finally.
*****************
Alina Kennedy hurried home through the back streets of London and walked fast, well as fast as she could. It was busy at this hour in London when the city's workers went back to their little homes including herself. She always did her best not to stand out too much in the crowd, so she would not be bothered by the drunken men that lustfully gazed at her.
For security reasons she often walked with someone so that it seemed as if they belonged together, as if she was walking with friendly colleagues, but that was not the case.
Alina did not have any friends, nor did she have any colleagues that she got along with. She knew that this was her fault, as she remained too quiet and withdrawn, but unfortunately this was a character trait of hers she could not change. When she finally arrived at her little house she quickly stepped inside as the cold had gone right through her thin clothes and coat.
"You're late again" her mother reprimanded, standing in the 'kitchen' and busy cutting vegetables.
"I know" Alina said, not willing to elongate her answer because she was desperate to experience some warmth, so she walked over to the fire to warm her hands (as well as she could).
"I hope she pays you overtime" Harriet Kennedy said but before she could finish the sentence a coughing fit took hold of her. Mara rushed to her mother, grabbed her by her upper arms and led her to a chair.
"I'll finish dinner" she said as she hurriedly added the ingredients to the pot that was boiling on the stove.
They ate in silence, while Alina looked at her mother, who ate with difficulty, only swallowing small bits from her spoon.
"You should really try to eat more, mother. You are getting so skinny".
"I know, dear, but-" Harriet began, but then was overcome by a coughing fit...
"You see... I want to eat but I can't" she said with a crooked smile. Mara remained silent and thoughtlessly stirred her soup with her spoon, not looking up she said that she would make sure the doctor would come again but her mother would not hear of it.
"Can't afford that as we are already struggling to pay the rent this month. Don't worry about me, darling." And as consoling as those words were, Alina didn't really believe them.
After dinner, she cleaned up while her mother went to bed early. She herself did not feel like sleeping yet, as her body was longing for her bed. Her back hurt from sitting for so long, the hand placement of flowers hurt her wrists, and then there was the ... incident.
Who was he? She had never seen him before. It was obvious that he should not have seen her and vice versa, was he one of Madame Delacroix's beaus? He must have been because it looked as if he had dressed in a hurry.
Alina wished she hadn't seen him for many reasons...
Unintentionally he had reminded her of what had been ... happened to her when she was just 16... The memory was too painful, even now, so Alina did her best to think of something else quickly and that brought her back to this mysterious man. It was clear that he was a man of the 'upper class', judging by the quality of his clothes and the way he appeared to be well-groomed.
He was no prince, she could tell that with certainty, and besides, what would a prince be doing with Madame Delacroix, she chuckled? A duke perhaps? Or a Lord? She didn't know, there was no point in thinking about it since she had never seen the men with noble titles up close, so how could she know.
Well-to-do, in any case, she concluded. And... friendly... Well, friendly-looking with appealing green eyes and a pleasant smile?
Oh god, what on earth was she doing? Thinking about her employer's beau like that, she clearly must have gone crazy and yet.... her encounter with him kept haunting her mind. He had seemed genuinely concerned about her, whether she was all right...
She shouldn't have said anything to him, but felt compelled to, since he was far above her in terms of 'class'. She hadn't wanted to be rude to him, and besides, she desperately needed the job, so she fervently hoped that he would indeed say nothing to her employer.
She sighed... it was getting late, and her body was yearning for her bed. Alina got up, undressed, and dressed again and then lay down in something that was supposed to be her bed, uncomfortable though it was. She soon fell asleep and fortunately, the usual nightmares were spared her tonight.
*****************
Benedict twisted and turned but it didn't help, then closed his open but quickly opened it again. He didn't know why he couldn't sleep but something was bothering him as he replayed the events of the day and each time he came to the same conclusion: the meeting with her.
He soon identified the feeling that was bothering him, guilt What was he thinking that he could just sit on someone's hair, foregoing decorum like that? Even though he was oblivious and had genuinely only wanted to help her...
Oh God. What must she have been thinking? That he would take advantage of her, she had to, because she had been so terribly down... This point, this realisation made him suddenly sit forward. She had lied to him when she said that no one had hurt her, the severe reaction of her to coming near him told him enough....
He recalled her shocked face and how she suddenly turned pale and suddenly he felt angry, furious even, and it didn't make sense since he didn't know her, but he was.
And at that moment he knew that not only should he apologise, but also help in some way, as he had reasoned earlier in the day.
Yes, that was a good plan, Benedict thought, and he lowered himself back onto his comfortable pillow, closed his eyes and fell asleep.
It took two weeks before he saw her again, he suspected that she was avoiding him, which he understood in a way. On the last day of February, however, a terribly cold day, but he had braved it to go and see Genevieve again... but she was not there, so he kept waiting for her, at least he told himself that.
It was the end of the working day, almost six o'clock, and Benedict walked slowly downstairs and looked around. At first there was no-one left, or so it seemed, but he was wrong... He heard shuffling, someone with light feet moving, and without thinking he set off in that direction and found her in the same position as last time, busy draping a garment and lost in thoughts.
"Please don't be alarmed, it's only me" he warned but it was to no use. She stared at him with big bambi eyes and lowered her hands, made a half-turn, and then slowly moved backwards as he stared at her. He didn't know why but he had hated her reaction towards him, it brought upon a jolt of disappointment inside that he could not shake.
"Don't be afraid of me, there is no reason to I assure you. I am not going to hu-." he stopped himself in time from enunciating the rest of that comment.
"I only want to apologise for last time. I shouldn't have scared you like that" he tried again.
She remained quiet although it was clear to Benedict that she seemed clearly affected as her breathing was again very rapid and irregular.
She nodded in acknowledgement but then remembered that she also had something to tell him.
"Thank you for not telling Madame Delacroix" she meekly said.
"Of course," he stated in a way that could be described as none other than friendly and kind.
Alina thought that was the end of the conversation and wanted to walk away but apparently the mysterious man had no intention of letting her go.
"I meant what I said the other day. If there's anything I can do to help you... I know some people at the police force, they could... assist you in the matter and-".
At the sound of the word "police" she suddenly turned pale again and he understood instinctively that he had made a huge mistake... So, it had been a policeman, he quickly realised, the one who had ... had hurt her... worked for the police.
"I must leave. My ehm mo-, someone is waiting for me. ," she said with difficulty, feeling as if an iron hand had suddenly grabbed her throat yet she managed to brush past him in a hurry.
Yet, two seconds later, she stood still at the pronunciation of a name. Her name.
"Miss Kennedy... Alina" he said and had pronounced her name as if he possessed a velvet tongue and she couldn't help but wonder what he wanted from her, so she focused on him again.
"Can I offer you a lift? It's very cold today and quite dark so-" but she interjected quickly.
"No thank you, Mr.. Mr.." she stammered, realising she didn't even know who he was.
"Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton" he replied with confidence.
"Are you certain I can't take you home? It really wouldn't be any trouble." he repeated.
She almost wanted to laugh at the thought that the gentleman's expensive carriage would guide her through the back streets without the possibility of being mugged ten times, but she did not.
"Yes. Goodbye Mr. Bridgerton" she said shortly and then she was gone, and once again Benedict stared after her.. long after she had left.