“I cannot believe he is here,” Lady Abbott whispered, fanning herself dramatically as if to keep herself from fainting. “The audacity he must have to appear, uninvited and unannounced.”
“The Duke of Ferndown and the Dowager Duchess of Ferndown.”
The butler’s announcement of the two more guests’ arrivals had the room spinning their attention back to the still open doors. Felicity’s eyes stayed locked on Benjamin, desperately hoping this was not a dream and that he was really standing in front of her.
“Where is the Duke?” Hannah Abbott whined.
“I only see Her Grace, Dowager Hope Chapman. I do not see the other son,” Lady Abbott answered.
“Hmph. This is much too exasperating for me,” Hannah complained. “I think I need some fresh air. Excuse me.”
“How thoughtful of them to make this into a family affair,” her mother quipped, none too pleased.
Felicity would like to think that her mother was simply unaware that her whispers were more like hushed shouts and could be heard across the room, but judging by the displeasure pasted across her face, Felicity could not be sure.
Lady Abbott looked primed to say something else, not noticing her daughter’s departure, but then Benjamin was there, at her side.
“Hello, Felicity,” he greeted her, ignoring the snide comments of the others.
She smiled as warmth seeped into her bones. She doubted she would ever get used to hearing the way he said her name.
“Hello, Benjamin,” she echoed.
There was no bowing or curtseying, no formal titles or introductions. There were only the two of them and the closeness they had built between them. Despite the shocked expressions of the onlookers, Felicity found she cared only for what the man in front of her thought.
“You never wrote me back.”
There was no hiding the anguish in his whispered words. She had been silent for weeks, and it was her silence that had hurt him.
“I am sorry,” she began to say, but she stopped when he shook his head at her.
“You never wrote me back, and now, I have been forced to break my word. I loathe to break my word, Felicity.”
Her face scrunched in confusion. She could not seem to recall any promises he had made to her that he had broken. He was, as he had first told her, a loyal and trustworthy friend.
“You see,” he took another step towards her, “in my last letter, I told you I would leave you be if you did not write back to me. I promised myself that I would do my best to forget you if that is what you wished.”
Felicity blinked back the tears in her eyes. She could not understand why it felt like her heart was being cleaved in two at the thought of him moving on without her. And yet, she had done just that to him. They were standing in the middle of her engagement ball, for goodness’ sake. There was no way he could have known how much she hated the idea of marrying Lord Roberts. She could not blame him if he came here to hurt her just as deeply as she had hurt him.
“I understand,” she whimpered, suddenly finding the floor much more interesting to look at than his face.
He took another step forward until the tips of his boots entered her view. The black leather shone so brightly she could make out her teary face in their reflection. A soft but firm thumb notched under her chin, pulling her gaze away from his shoes and back to his eyes.
“But I find that I have made an impossible promise to myself. It is one I cannot keep.”
Her eyes searched his face. She did not dare to believe that he was not angry with her, but she found no signs of the hurt or frustration she expected. All she found was affection. Her heart soared, and for a moment, she was blissfully unaware of anyone else in the room. They stood, lost in each other’s eyes, without saying a word. For the first time since he walked into the ballroom, she felt she was able to take all of him in.
He wore the black tails and corresponding suit that was expected of any man. As she had come to expect, not a wrinkle marred his shirt; everything had been pressed to perfection. It was as if the jacket that hugged his broad shoulders now was a new uniform. The only thing she could see that was different was a single curl had fallen into his eyes, blocking her view of the rich brown orbs. She wanted nothing more than to reach up and brush the errant strand of hair away but restrained herself for propriety’s sake. She could not believe that she was standing here, jealous of a piece of hair for getting to caress her Benjamin when she could not.
Her Benjamin? She was not sure when he became “her Benjamin,” but as he stood in front of her, taking in her periwinkle gown and long white gloves, there was no mistaking the gleam in his eyes. He was as much hers as she was his. Despite knowing him for only a matter of weeks, despite having had few interactions with him in person, she felt that she knew this man better than she knew herself. And she knew that there was something different about Benjamin, she just could not put her finger on it.
“It’s him.”
“...a new duke…”
“That explains his brother’s absence…”
The whispers around the room swirled and met her all at once. As she took them in, her mind started to turn. It was as if she was on the brink of solving some great mystery but could not find the final puzzle piece. Daring to look away for only a moment, she searched the entrance to the ballroom. Even with the wild way her heartbeat had been pounding against her ribs, she had heard the butler announce the arrival of Benjamin’s mother and brother, so when she saw an elegant looking woman standing alone, still at the top of the stairs, confusion took root once more. Her head was beginning to mirror the pounding of her heart as she tried to process the night’s events thus far.