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As we all know, there is nothing this author loves more than a scandal, and tonight, soirée promises more than its fair share, courtesy of the recently widowed lady Trowbridge. Someone may call her celebrations to provocative, and I would caution any young lady from getting caught up in the sensual nature of her fêtes. For one scandelous move between an unwed couple, a wayward touch, or heaven forbid, a kiss, would banish any young lady from society in a trail of ruin.
The Trowbridge ball was in full swing, with people moving and swaying to the sounds of the orchestra. Elena stood on the side of the dance floor, holding a glass of champagne and scanning the room anxiously. She spotted her sister having her third dance with Lord Watson and her mother conversing with so many different people that she had lost count.
She felt like an outcast, like she didn't belong in this grand ballroom with all these grand people. She sipped her champagne, the taste of the bubbly liquid masking her growing anxiety. Benedict was nowhere to be found, which relieved her a bit, as he was the main cause of her stress.
Elena spotted a servant holding a tray coming near her, so she quickly put her empty on it and took another drink.
"Sister, how many drinks have you had?" Thomas asked.
"I do not know. Four? Maybe five." She nervously replied, taking a sip. "Is it hot in here? Feels hot."
"You cannot just wash off whatever you're feeling with alcohol." He told her. "It is not healthy."
"Leave me be, brother. I'm perfectly fine." She slurred, almost knocking over other guests.
Thomas nervously searched for his mother and saw that she was way over on the other side of the room. "Alright, mother cannot see you in this state. So I'm taking this away from you." He snatched away the glass of champagne from his sister's hand before she could drink it.
Elena scoffed. "Rude."
"Yes, you're welcome."
After Thomas had taken the drink away from Elena, he went to join some other friends who were also present at the ball, leaving Elena all alone again. Even though he insisted on staying with her, she wanted him to have some fun.
She remained on the side of the dance floor, fiddling with her fingers as she watched different couples come and go on. From time to time, other men would offer her a dance, but she'd politely decline their invitation and wish them a good night with a soft smile. The one she wanted to dance with wasn't present.
Until he walked into the room.
Her heartbeat started to pick up as she spotted him from the other side of the room. She could feel her palms getting sweatier from underneath her gloves and her mind started racing when he started conversing with other guests. She played with her necklace out of nervousness not even realizing that her eyes had been on him for a long time. Elena just waited for him to notice her.
Finally, with only one glimpse, Benedict caught sight of Elena. Even if there were so many people in the room, her beauty made it easier for him to spot her. He took one look at her and was struck by her looks. He couldn't help but stare, unable to tear his gaze away from her. The light of the room seemed to bounce off of her, making her glow. Her dress, a deep blue brought out the warm tone of her skin and amplified her natural beauty. She was absolutely stunning.
He excused himself from the conversation he was having with the other guests and walked forward towards Elena. As he approached her, she felt a rush of adrenaline and her heart pounding in her chest. Finally standing before her, he grinned widely.
"Hi." He simply said.
"Hi." She replied.
They both quickly bowed at each other to show at least a bit of courtesy.
"I spoke with Mr. Granville earlier today." Benedict said. "I even got to visit his studio before coming here."
"And did you like it?" Elena asked.
"Very." He replied. "I met a lot of talented artists so it was definitely an experience. And I believe I should thank you for this."
She tilted her head in a teasing way. "Whatever for?"
Benedict smirked as he knew that she was playing with him. It was written all over her face. "Everything you said to Mr. Granville about my art. I don't think he would've ever considered inviting me over to his studio if it weren't for you. Although, exaggerating about my talents did not help."
Elena chuckled. "I only spoke the truth, Mr. Bridgerton. I may not be a renowned artist but I do know the traits of one. I see great promise in your work and I want to see you to succeed in art."
Benedict stood in front of her, lost in his own words. Before he could speak, the musicians started playing a waltz and more guests started to dance.
Benedict looked around himself before turning to Elena. "Is there any room left for one more dance with me?"
Elena hesitated to answer for a moment. She glanced at her mother who seemed well distracted enough with her friends. They wouldn't be noticeable if they blended in with the other dancers. One dance wouldn't hurt.
She looked back at the man in front of her and lifted her hand to show him the empty dance card that was around her wrist.
Benedict smirked and held her hand. "Excellent."
He placed a soft kiss on it before leading her to the dance floor.
As they danced the forbidden waltz, Elena and Benedict knew that this moment was fleeting. It was a moment that they had been dreaming of for weeks, but also a moment that would soon pass, probably never to be repeated. Despite the risks, they didn't care. This was their moment, and they were going to enjoy it while they could.
Benedict noticed Elena continuously glancing behind her, making sure her mother wasn't looking. "Hey." He said, bringing her closer to him. "Do you trust me?"
Elena looked at him and nodded.
"Then only look at me. It's just you and me."
With each step of the waltz, Elena felt her heart race faster and faster. She couldn't help but stare into Benedict's eyes, getting lost in their depth. She knew that this moment was special, and that she would always remember it.
As the waltz drew to a close, Elena had a sense of sadness wash over her. She knew that this dance would be the last time she would ever hold Benedict close to her. But she also knew that she would never forget this moment, and that it would always be a part of her.
The sound of the last chord lingered in the air as the two of them stood there, deeply staring into each other's teary eyes, unable to let go of each other. It was as if time had stood still for them, and they were trapped in this moment forever.
"E-excuse me, please." Elena stuttered before letting go of Benedict and rushing out of the ball room. She found herself an empty drawing room and immediately went inside, shutting the doors behind her.
She stopped to catch her breath but still had a hard time to breath. She noticed that all of the windows were closed so she went to open them, deeply inhaling the fresh air. Letting a few tears drop, she rested her head on her hands.
Suddenly, she heard the doors behind her open. Benedict had entered the room and when he saw the state that Elena was in his heart broke. He gently closed the doors and slowly walked up to her.
Elena turned around to face him with dried red eyes. "Why did you come here tonight? You could've stayed at Mr. Granville's studio, why did you come?"
Benedict deeply stared into her eyes while walking up to her. "Isn't it obvious? I have to be where you are. I love y-"
"Stop, that's enough." She cut him off, stoping him from going any further. "Do you even realize that you're making this harder for me? I can't even face you anymore in public without wanting to be close to you."
"Elena..." Benedict softly spoke as he resumed to walk towards her. "You know how I feel about you, and I know how you feel about me. We can be with each other."
"No, we cannot be with together." She closed her eyes and shook her head.
"Yes, we can!" He slightly raised his voice.
"No! It's not that easy for me!" She snapped. "You already have your family's respect! I'm a burden to my parents, my whole life I've been! Especially to my mother. I cannot disrespect her again."
Benedict just stood in front of her, looking at her with pitiful eyes and not knowing what to say. He was aware that the Bennets were very strict with their children but he didn't know it was this bad.
Elena turned away from him out of shame and buried her face in her hands as more tears fell from her eyes. She cried into her hands until she felt a hand gently grab her shoulders and turn her around.
Benedict wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder. His one hand caressed her hair and the other was gently placed her waist. Soon enough, Elena tightly hugged him back.
They stayed like that for a few minutes until Elena let go and pulled back. She looked up into Benedict's eyes while he wiped away her dry tears.
"I'm so sorry..."
"What are you apologizing for?" Benedict softly chuckled as he cupped her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. "It's all right."
"No, it's not. It's unfair." Elena sniffled. "Lord Hawthorn is already courting me and we are to be engaged soon."
"I know." He nodded.
"My mother would kill me, she'd send me back, I can't-" Elena started rambling on but Benedict cut her off.
"I know. I don't want you to." He said. "But just... stand here with me for one minute. Let me have this moment with you. Let's just stand here and just for now, I'm not the Viscountess' son and you're not the Marchioness' daughter. We're just... us."
Benedict and Elena did not need words to convey their feelings for each other. They stood in silence, cherishing this moment of unspoken love and connection. Their eyes met, and the world around them faded away as they looked into each other's eyes with love and devotion.
They then closed their eyes, their breathing becoming in sync. They were in a world of their own, a world where nothing else mattered except for each other. The young couple connected their foreheads and their lips were inches away.
Suddenly, someone entered the drawing room and Elena and Benedict immediately distanced themselves.
Benedict faced the wall while Elena turned to face the person who had entered.
And there stood her older sister and her younger brother.