There had been considerable consternation. Shelly Watson had strongly disagreed and had interfered. Said that if Alina wanted to work so badly she could do so in the bakery as they were short of 'hands'. But the bottom line was that she, now a married woman, should focus on having children and that 'her son earned enough to support them. Alina tried to say nicely and clearly that she liked to keep working, that she was needed at her place of work and that she couldn't just quit but Shelly Watson kept going and going until Tommy suddenly interfered.
"That's enough, Mother," he had said in a raised voice, something Shelly was not used to from her son who normally always listened nicely to his mother. Her surprise was clearly visible on her face.
"If she wants to keep working then that's fine by me. You have given your opinion but we both want her to keep going to Madame Delacroix. ".
Shelly's mouth twisted into a thin line, and she looked at both her son and Alina in a way that was hardly concealing.
"Fine," Shelly conceded with a disapproving look, nonetheless.
"I won't say anything more about it" she had said in a tone that did little to conceal her anger and she had then stood up, mumbled a 'goodbye,' and left. Alina was happy with 'the victory' and grateful that Tommy had stood up for her, but this did not bode well. She had the feeling that they had taken the battle but not the war, not that she wanted a war with her mother-in-law, not at all, but the beginning... of the relationship was not very hopeful.
She had slept badly that night, something she had done more often since she had married. It was strange to share a bed with someone after not having done so for a long time. She had to get used to the space he took up in the bed and his tendency to want to keep turning at night, touching her unintentionally and waking her up, startled and waking him up again.
They did not have the space for a large bed, there was hardly any space anywhere in the small house anyway. Tommy had assured her, with an apologetic look on his face, that he wanted to move to a bigger house, not now, but later for sure, after they got back from their wedding. Alina, in turn, had assured him that she was content with the living situation now and in response he had smiled in relief at her, bent down and given her a small kiss on the mouth. From there, things had moved on and the two had ended up in bed.
He had been sweet, she couldn't deny that, and very shy, which was very touching, but it felt... it felt... somewhat strange... She didn't know what it was. It hadn't been unpleasant but when he buried his head in her neck her hands went to ruffling it like they used to, until she realised that Tommy was bald, and that her fingers were searching for brown strands of hair.
She searched for brown, soft strands, a soapy scent, sweet brown eyes and a smile, his smile that lit up his whole face and his mouth that claimed hers, fierce and unrelenting. The realisation broke her heart and she felt tears well up in her eyes and slide down her face. He didn't notice luckily and a few moments later Tommy soon reached his climax and their first time sleeping together as husband and wife was over.
They had decided to postpone the idea of children for at least the first year, there was no room for them anyway although Shelly Watson had 'remarked in passing' that 'a baby didn't need that much space' and that 'Alina had to consider that she was not twenty anymore'. Tommy told her not to worry about it, but it did sting.
It took some time for her to settle down as a married woman but at some point she got into a routine. Alina was happy to go to work as Shelly would drop in all the time, even in the evening and comment on how 'clean' the house was, among other things. It annoyed Alina to no end but out of respect she said nothing, for now but fortunately she would soon not have to deal with her meddlesome mother-in-law anymore.
It had been an evening when Tommy had wanted to take Alina back to their little bedroom. He had started by pulling her towards him, into his arms, gently but firmly. At first it remained innocent but soon his fingers were lowering and rising, tracing over her body, seeking satisfaction in the touch of her flesh. For Alina, this was again a peculiar experience, not that his touches were unpleasant, he knew well how to work certain 'zones' of her body, but once again it felt as if something was not right. Stop it, Alina, she said to herself. Time. She had to give herself time. Tommy was a sweet man. A dependable man, someone she had known all her life. Time, she needed time. She had to be patient.
Just when Tommy's hands landed on her derriere, Alina jolted for a moment at the sudden touch, Shelly stormed in without knocking, key in hand.
"Oh my.. Oh God!" she had muttered before she ran off. Alina and Tommy looked at each other in horror and embarrassment until Tommy started to chuckle and burst out laughing. Alina tried to reprimand him, embarrassed as she was she told Tommy it wasn't funny, but it didn't help, he kept laughing and laughing until the absurdity of the moment became clear to Alina and she joined him..
"Well... She won't be dropping in any time soon I think.. "But um... I think I'll just see my parents as I need to ask for a key back", he smiled.
"Go to bed. Don't wait up for me", Tommy suggested.
Still smiling she agreed with him and then turned to want to go to their bedroom, a small distance away from her. However, she heard Tommy turn to her and she turned around again.
"Yes, Tommy?".
He cleared his throat and looked a little nervous.
"How are you? Ehm. I know it has been an adjustment for you. Lots of change happening in the last few weeks."
She looked at him not understanding what he was referring to.
"I mean... ehm no longer living with Madame Delacroix and all... and now being married... to me.... I... um, I was wondering if-" He didn't finish his sentence as the words didn't seem to come out of his mouth and he stroked his head a few times.
Alina realised that what he wanted to ask was whether she was happy with him, here, in this house. Together. He was nervous that she wasn't, she could tell. God, he was so sweet. A feeling of gratitude and poignancy overtook her and before she knew it she had embraced him.
"I like it here... with you" she had said, and the effect of these words was entirely on him as she felt him exhale the breath he was holding back.
"That's good to hear. Good. I'm glad" he said, pulling back for a moment to look at her and then placing a kiss on her forehead.
"I'll see you later alright?" She nodded and then went her their bedroom. Alina undressed and changed her clothes and lay down, wrapping the thick blankets around herself. Since it had been a tiring day it took a long time before she succumbed to sleep.
The next morning it was chaos at Madame Delacroix's house, who had caught a bad cold and could not attend. She had left a note for Alina asking her if she could please take over the appointments for that day and the other days that followed as well until Genevieve had recovered. Alina was only happy to help to make sure the shop ran smoothly.
She also had to visit a few addresses, a few customers, who for one reason or another did not want to come to the shop. Alina did her best, in cooperation with her colleagues, to run the shop as well as possible, but it was difficult, especially when she still had to visit customers in the afternoon. However, she felt that she owed it to Madame Delacroix because she had always helped Alina, even though she should not have done so. It was one o'clock in the afternoon when she set off to see the first customer.... The Crenshaws.
Their daughter Priscilla was a nightmare to have as a customer, Alina knew from experience, but fortunately the appointment to pick out fabrics did not last exceedingly long. Then Alina was off to see the Cullington's and that was a relief compared to her previous client. Alicia and her mother were, even though they were very wealthy, so Alina had heard, friendly and treated her with respect. When they found out that Alina had not eaten, the butler was ordered to make a sandwich. She politely wanted to refuse but her stomach did not agree.
It was around three o'clock that the coachman left again for the last address. She was lost in thought but especially tired, so she looked out of the window listlessly, expecting the drive to take some time; there had been quite a distance between the previous residences, and she had expected to be on the road for a while this time, too. But the coachman stopped, to her surprise. When she saw... where exactly the coachman had come to a halt.
"Are you sure I should be here?" she asked with an anxious tone in her voice, and it was a miracle that anything came out of her throat at all.
"According to my list, it is."
Alina sat there unable to move, contemplating running away.. far, far away but she knew she couldn't.
"Shouldn't you be going to the customer?," Orson asked her impatiently after a while.
"Right. Right.. sorry. " mumbled Alina and she didn't know how but somehow she managed to step down from the carriage.. The coachman disembarked as well and they proceeded to give Alina a box, full of custom ordered dresses.
"Madame Delacroix has probably not informed you but I must leave in a moment.... Other commitments" stated the coachman whose name was Orson with a grin.
Alina didn't want to speculate or condemn, but from the man's alcoholic breath she had an idea what he meant by 'other duties'.
"I trust that you can arrange other means of transportation " said Orson and to Alina's horror his eyes roamed over her body.
"That shall not be a problem," Alina said, a little relieved to not having to spend much more time with Orson.
"Thank you, Orson", Alina quickly said eager to get away from this man.
"My pleasure.. Miss," Orson stated with a big grin that slightly unnerved Alina.
Left alone and with no help in sight or no opportunity to escape from her obligations, Alina had no choice but to ring the bell and hope that at least one of the residents would not be home.
Oh God. Oh God. No, no, no, no. This was terrible. This was the most horrible thing that could happen to her. Eleanor Shelby... uh no Bridgerton was not present, at least not now. She had informed Alina, with a friendly smile but with an intonation that was not at all friendly, that she had another obligation and had implored her to wait. Alina tried to argue that she could come back another day and that the shop was left to her to manage but Eleanor would not hear of it.
"Nonsense... I'll be back around five. I know from Madame Delacroix that you are open until six. That gives us enough time for the fitting." she had smiled met a faux nice disposition.
"Mosely. Will you give Miss... Ehm.. What was your name again?"
"Kennedy...no Watson," Alina replied.
Upon hearing the name change mid-sentence Eleanor looked confused for a moment but then seemed to pay no attention to it.
"Will you give Miss Watson some tea and a biscuit perhaps, she can wait in the kitchen... oh no, don't.... The Carson's are dining with us tonight, as you know. I don't want her to get in the way of people, she can wait in the drawing room".
"Certainly Madam", Mosely had replied and then had walked with Alina to their destination. The butler had been surprised, if not shocked, to see her upon opening in the door, but then functioned as if nothing had happened and Alina was a mere stranger to him. Only when they were in the drawing room did he relax.
"Child, what are you doing here?" he asked her when it was safe to speak.
"I didn't know! I didn't, Mr. Mosely, that Mrs. Bridgerton was the customer that needed the fitting. Please believe me!" she said with big eyes.
They looked at each other for a moment before Alina deliberately changed her gaze downwards.
"Is. Is... he at home?," the young lady asked him, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her as he sensed her discomfort.
"Yes."
"Please don't let him know I'm here. Please," she pleaded.
Mosely looked at her a little dubiously.
"He is the lord of the house. I must inform him.".
"No, please. Don't do it, sir" Alina asked.
"I will see what I can do," sighed Mosely after shaking his head..
***************
Benedict sat looking at his piece of paper and doing nothing but that. He had given up drawing for the day because every time he wanted to draw something, he sketched a woman with long hair, a strikingly beautiful face that was looking at him in a friendly way. Each time until, of course, there was nothing he could do but tear up the 'work of art' in such a way that the muse, the source of inspiration, would be unrecognisable.
He wondered, against his better judgement, how she was doing. He could not help it. At times, the thoughts simply overwhelmed him, no matter how much he didn't want to think about her. Was she happy? With him? Did she miss him as much as he missed her? Did she yearn for him as much as Benedict did for her? These were questions that would not let him go. Even though he should know better. Priorities. He had other priorities now, Eleanor and the pregnancy. Benedict had also made some progress; he was no longer away from home so often. He tried to show interest in Eleanor. He had had many an irritating dinner with her parents and brother. He found Richard Shelby insufferable and often had to bite his tongue and count the minutes until the company left. Unfortunately for Benedict, Eleanor was very fond of Richard, and he had to put up with it.
All this thinking did him no good. And sitting in his dull study did him no good either, so instead of going out - it was a rainy day in London anyway today - he decided to ask for coffee downstairs and read the paper, something he often did in the afternoon. He called for Mosely, who came in a few minutes later.
"Ah Mosely... Hello. Would you please have some coffee prepared and then send it to the drawing room?", Benedict asked politely.
Mosely's face twisted immediately upon hearing his employer's request, and he suddenly turned pale.
"What is it, Mosely? Are you alright?" Benedict asked with concern. This was nothing for his faithful employee who had been in the Bridgerton's service for years, first under his father, then Anthony and his mother and now for him.
"I'm fine sir...", even though it didn't seem that way at all Benedict thought.
"Would you consider having your coffee in your study today? Or the library perhaps?".
This was a strange question. Mosely didn't normally produce counterarguments or suggestions.
"No, I'd rather not. Why are you asking me this?", Benedict frowned.
"No particular reason.. I apologise for being too forward. I'll have your coffee ready and then you can come down in about.. ten minutes", the butler suggested nervously.
"Fine" said Benedict to the visible relief of the man in front of him. He quickly excused himself and walked away, leaving Benedict pensive and confused. Something was not right? Mosely was very keen to keep him out of a certain area and Benedict did not know why and he needed to know the answer, so he calls Mosely back and looked at him attentively.
"Would you like to inform me who our guest is? ".
The poor man's face turned red and then pale again.
"You can tell me. I won't be angry with you, but I'd like to know. This gave Mosely some relief, but he still looked a little worried.
"It's someone from Madame Delacroix's. " he replied after clearing his throat a few times.
"So? You know that me and Gene... I mean that lady have no... mutual understanding anymore. She's been to my house plenty of times and there's never been an issue.".
"I know sir but I ehm wanted to protect from any.. uncomfortable.. encounters.", Mosely lied.
"Oh well thank you Mosely.. As much as I appreciated your concern, but it is not necessary, all that is water under the bridge. Tell you what... You are right though, best to avoid sticky situations. Send my coffee up please".
"Right away sir", Mosely said and then made his exit again hoping that he had now gone through the cross-examination properly and did not have to come back for round three.
Again, however, Benedict was bothered still somehow because... wasn't Eleanor supposed to be at her mother's now? He kept up these days at least tried to.. In any case? Why would it matter if Genevieve were in his house as Eleanor wasn't present anyway.
This did not make sense. He got up and left his study, in his hurry not even closing it. Then he walked through the corridor, towards the staircase, speeded downwards... a few steps more to the door... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 steps, he knocks, his fingers reaching for the handle, pushing it down. The door opens slowly somehow, as if everything is standing still and right there, towards the end of the room, he sees a woman standing with her back to him. His heart begins to pound, he steps inside and makes audible steps, and the woman turns to him...
He can only stare and she doesn't seem to be able to do anything else either and neither of them can speak, only look. Mosely comes running in a few moments later and he lets out a gasp of fright and puts his hand in front of his mouth.
Benedict turns to address him.
"Never mind the coffee. Will you give us some privacy please?" Benedict says in a stern voice. His request is granted although the old man did give Alina a pitying look before leaving.
And then they were alone.
Alone together.
Benedict takes a step forward, with a pounding heart and he takes a deep breath, exhaling the breath that was almost taken from him. Because for a small second it seemed as if he could not do just that, breathe.
He takes another step forward, towards her. She remains standing and makes no move to leave, but surprises him by speaking.
"Please don't reprimand him. It is my fault. I asked him not to say anything," she says with a tearful expression.
Benedict gathers closer again.
"I didn't know I had to come here. Genevieve is ill and has asked me to take over things, including the appointments. I... I didn't know I had to come here if I had known I wouldn't have".
Even though he was shaken to his very being Benedict headed in headed in her direction anyway.
"Mrs Bridgerton wanted me to stay. I protested and told her I had to leave but she disagreed. Ordered me to wait here...".
Benedict had now progressed to the point where he was close but not too close. Not enough for him in any case. At the next step he took a deep breath and continued to look at her, his gaze conveying a million emotions in one and she did not know how to look away.
"I didn't want to come here" she said as tears began to stream down her face. She shook her head and repeated the words.
"If I had known... then... then." She didn't finish the sentence because her attention was distracted by the fact that Benedict was now standing in front of her. Alina watched as his chest rose and fell erratically. His hand gently rose and went towards her cheek with trembling fingers; eager to touch, to feel. When they reached their point of impact and in the process wiped away her tears, a surge ignited in him that he could not stop, a desire that he could not ignore. He grabbed her arms and pulled her against him, knocking the breath out of Alina and firmly held her. Benedict let out 3 x a sound that resembled a pent-up breath/sigh, one of complete bliss, as if he could not believe his luck. She was here again in his arms.
It was not her intention, but the moment Alina found herself in his arms she surrendered to that feeling, that feeling that told her she belonged here with him, he who could embrace her like no other. Home. He felt like home to her, and the feeling overruled all logic and all motivations for coherent thinking.
Even if she had wanted to move, she could not have done so. Benedict held her so tightly, there was no way she could have wriggled out of his grip. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, his arms resting on her back, her head pressed against his shoulders, making no sound, no gesture, as if they knew that if they did, they would have to accept the consequences, that reality would crash down on them. Yet Benedict could hold no longer, he pulled back, his focus on her lips; beautiful and full lips that he longed to kiss and to keep kissing, until he would get enough but he knew he never would.
He bent forward to kiss her but his mouth, unfortunately, made no impact. At that moment, she had detached herself from him and pushed him away with a short "No". She walked away from Benedict and shook her head as she now stood at a considerable distance from him by the fireplace.
"I can't do this", she stated and "neither can you".
"Alina..." he sighed, and it came out somehow heart-breaking, the way he had said it. The way he looked at her was equally so.
"Mrs Watson" she said softly and at the sound of these short words Benedict instantly felt annoyance coming up to the surface.
"Oh yes that's right isn't it? It is Mrs. Watson now... I apologise for not congratulating you".
The sentence had come out bitter, but he did not regret it.
"So... congratulations on your marriage," he stated with yet another bitter intonation.
"Thank you..." she replied in a way that made him suspect she was holding back but still wanted to be polite.
A long silence ensued, and both seemed at a loss for words. Benedict stared at her and then at the table on which a cup, teapot and some biscuits had been placed that were untouched and then back to.
"Can I offer you tea? ". he asked and it was a strange thing to ask, given the situation, absurd but it was not for him to be a bad host.
She looked at him a little uncertainly.
"It's only tea." Benedict said with a look that was pleading and somewhere resigned, tired.
"No thank you" she said.
"Well then you won't mind hopefully if I pour myself a cup".
He sat down on the sofa and poured himself a cup and then also took some biscuits which he placed on a small plate, put a cube of sugar in his hot drink and then sat back, making himself comfortable. Benedict took a few sips and then put the porcelain cup back on the table.
Benedict said nothing again and then sighed deeply.
"Would you please come and sit down? I hate talking to you like this. You and I are not strangers".
She looked at him uncertainly, still debating something inside. Benedict held up his hands and made an apologetic gesture.
"I promise to keep my hands to myself..." he added. However, she remained standing.
"Alina" he sighed "please sit down".
Alina moved slowly towards Benedict and then proceeded to sit down on the sofa opposite him. She didn't want to, but she had to. It had been a busy day and the constant standing on her legs had tired her out. She had not wanted to admit it, but she was terribly thirsty as she had had hardly anything to drink all day.
When Benedict poured her some tea she didn't refuse this time. He passed it to her, but when he passed it to her, their fingers touched... just for a moment, as she was the first to withdraw.
Silence overtook them again, and she nervously took a few sips of her tea, trying to keep her view there.
"So, how are you?" he asked.
"Well thank you" she said still not moving an inch....
He gauged her reaction for a second, expecting a counter-question which he did not get.
"I'm doing well too if you want to ask" he said, and this came out unintentionally bitter, but he didn't realise it.
"That's nice to hear", she replied politely, at least she tried to be. Civil. Distant but civil, she had to be.
"You still work for Madame Delacroix.."
"Yes", she replied curtly.
"I... I had thought that most married women did not work after their marriage", Benedict said casually. It was an innocent remark, but it showed how different their worlds were.
"Those who can afford it stop working but there aren't many," she replied.
"Oh. So, your husband doesn't earn enough to support you," Benedict concluded. Again, a short-sighted reasoning on his end.
"No that's not true. I wanted to keep working and he was fine with that".
"Well.. how progressive of him" said Benedict as he reached over to the table to grab a second biscuit...more to have something to do than that he was hungry. He had to do something with his fingers because the urge to grab her and pull her into his lap and then kiss her senseless; was very present. Benedict could not help it; it was airborne, this feeling; this chemistry between them and it warned him at least that a spark could turn into wildfire if he did not watch out.
Alina looked at the clock. It was a quarter to four. His wife would be back at 5pm, there was still so much time to go....
"It'll be a while before she's back," she heard him say and nodded.
"Are you going to sit here all the time?" she wanted to know. She was shocked at her own forwardness, but it was a question that had been bothering her for a while now.
"Why? Is my company so disturbing to you?".
"No... I mean yes because... people can see us. Your wife may drop in earlier than expected. What would she think to see you and I together like this?".
Benedict knew full well what it would mean but he pretended not to know.
"It's no crime to have tea with someone," he shrugged with a sly smile.
Ugh. He was incorrigible.
"No but... if she would know about you... and I.... Uhm...". Shit. She had just now mentioned what she shouldn't have brought up and she had stopped herself half sentence, but the harm was done.
"What about you and me?", he asked curiously.
She didn't speak.
"Go ahead. Please tell me. What about you and me?" he repeated.
"Nothing. There is nothing between you and I", she said softly.
He scoffed. The jerk. He scoffed.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night..." he said frustratedly, annoyed, or a mixture of the two.
"Does he know?" he asked her after a while.
She looked at him curiously, even though she had tried to pretend to avoid his gaze.
"Does he know that you love me?".
Her mouth fell open at the impertinence with which he had said that unexpectedly.
"How dare you? How dare you be so-"
It's the TRUTH!", he interrupted her, losing all inclination to be polite.
"It is you know it and I know it is the truth," he added.
"You are impossible. Impossible!" she snapped at him.
"Why do you have to be so difficult every time?" she asked.
"Why, Benedict do you have to talk about it every time? You and I are both married now, why do you keep talking about the past? Surely you must understand by now that we both have to move on."
"I know.. I know but- ".
"No buts, Benedict. You can't keep doing this, it is not fair to me nor to you. Can't you see? It just hurts us both so much."
"Don't you think I'm trying?" he shouted suddenly.
"Don't you think I want to stop thinking about you? Stop wanting you? Stop longing for you? I fucking can't. I think of you all the time. And now, now my thoughts are plagued by the fact that you are in bed with another man and-."
She stood up with the intention of walking away, but she didn't get far, he broke his promise, grabbed her wrist, and turned her towards him.
"It would have been me. Not him. But me. I belong in your bed... Me! Do you have any idea how much I miss you? Every day. Every night, I miss you so much.", he admitted to her with sadness laced in his voice.
She didn't really know what to say, emotions bubbled up again and she tried to suppress them as best she could. Luckily, there was a knock on the door that was her saviour. Mosely came walking in, looking burdened and terribly alarmed.
"Lady Bridgerton has returned earlier than expected. She's speaking to the cook about tonight's arrangements, but she'll be here soon. I expect her here in five minutes.".
"Thank you... Mosely" said Benedict to which the butler nodded briefly and left. With difficulty and reluctance Benedict let go of Alina's wrist and stepped back, defeated, tired, all three hundred sentiments in one. He let his arms fall limply to his side and stared aimlessly ahead.
To his surprise, he then briefly felt her hand in his and he looked at it, still puzzled for a moment, but then grasped hers firmly.
"You must forget about me, Benedict. Just like me" and her voice broke at that moment "just like I must forget about you".
He shook his head.
"You are asking the impossible of me."
"You have no other choice... Please. Now go before she sees us" and with that said she pulled away. He looked at her again and wanted to say something but didn't, instead he looked at her again and forced himself to move, forced his body to move. When he reached the door, he looked at her one more time before he was finally able to leave.
***********
If the unexpected meeting with Benedict hadn't drained her energy enough, the subsequent meeting with Eleanor was even worse. She was extremely fussy, had a lot to say about the dresses and stated several times that she 'would not pay for something she was not satisfied with'. Alina managed to appease her with promises and a new fitting after the adjustments were made.
Finally, her ordeal was over, and she could leave. Mosely had been kind enough to arrange a carriage for her. She put on her old coat, put on her bonnet, and then walked out and waited. The carriage arrived a few minutes later and she got in...
Something told her to look up, it was an urge she somehow couldn't ignore even though something told her not to.
When she did, she saw him standing by the window. Their eyes locked and remained that way until the carriage started to move and drive away, around the street.
And even though she had left, he remained standing there, by the window, for a long time.
As lost as aways.
A/N:
Holy long chapter Batman. Initially I wanted to cut things off at the point where Ben sees that it Alina but I thought that would be cruel. Sorry for the drama in this and historical inaccuries. I made Alina take off her bonnet while she was in the house, I know they usually 'stay on' but hey.. I said I was gonna take historical and creative liberties now did I?
Anyway. Here's chapter 14. I think this might be the last for the time jump of two to five years. I don't know.
If there are people reading this story that also read Composure. I know. I suck. I am horrible. I have been arguing about Bridgerton S2 online, which is very time consuming and I am bit stumped as to what to do with that story. Also suffer from lazywriteritis, in conclusion. I sucketh.