by Bella Bryce
Elisabeth exhaled and walked right out of the lounge. She didn't want to argue with Bennett and certainly not on the subject of her parents, which she knew a lot more about. Elisabeth's father had a vacant look in his eyes making the nurse's words more real, words she didn't want to hear… didn't want to believe. She held her breath, barely able to remain standing until they finally took their leave.
She looked away when Bennett spoke. Elisabeth couldn't believe another diagnosis – another 'illness' had landed on top of her dad. Her mother, a surviving victim of shaken baby syndrome, had her own problems. Regardless, her father had always been the one worse off. He couldn't speak. She'd never heard him even say her name. And she was livid.
"Stop driving," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. They'd only been in the car for ten minutes. He'd just begun to break the news to her gently. It didn't matter.
Bennett met eyes with his chauffeur in the rear-view mirror and nodded his head. He really didn't want Elisabeth to get out of the car, but if he would ever allow her to behave in a blatantly angry manner, that would be the time. She had every right to be angry, and Bennett didn't want her to hold it in. He held a hand up for his chauffeur to see in the rear view mirror.
The driver pulled over on the A102 and waited, looking ahead so as not to be nosey. Bennett should have known Elisabeth would want to explode, he'd felt the tension since they first arrived at her parents' house earlier.
Elisabeth's face was contorted as she tried to keep herself from crying. She pushed the door open and got out of the limo rather quickly. He slid across the seat and followed her.
Her hands concealed much of her face as she stood with her back to the road, a thick woodland in front of her. The blinking hazard lights alerted every passing motorist to stare more than they usually would because it was a limo pulled over on the hard shoulder and not a typical car. It seemed like people always stared at limos. Elisabeth didn't even notice. Tears streamed through her fingers, down her cheeks and quietly found places to land in the tall grass where she stood. Bennett appeared behind her, his hands at his sides as he watched Elisabeth keep her back to him.
"Why can't it be enough?" she asked, finding her voice. "The blindness, the syndromes, the unpronounceable ailments even I don't understand?" she cried. "Why has one more thing dropped on them as if that's where all these problems belong?"
Bennett stepped forward and walked right around to face her. He pulled her into his arms and held her, and that's all it took for her body to loosen up from the front she was putting on. Elisabeth shook. She was angry. She was hurt and confused. Why? That was the only word in her mind.
He didn't reply to her questions. He had no answers. Who was he to give her an explanation? No one. Bennett just let her be angry for a moment and hide herself in him. Elisabeth eventually looked up at him, then turned and retreated back to the limo. He watched her replace her seatbelt and wipe her eyes while he remained standing in the same place as if still holding her.
Elisabeth didn't care if her dad was deaf, dumb and everything in between Alzheimer's – he hadn't signed back to her. He hadn't kissed her or acknowledged her presence when she knelt beside his chair. He used to. Her mother's medication had knocked her right out, so she hadn't even been awake during the visit.
Bennett returned to the limo and only had to glance at the chauffeur to cause him to carry on driving. Bennett wasn't entirely pleased, either.
"Take Miss Elisabeth up to her room to wash and tidy up. I'll be waiting in my study for her," Bennett told Sullivan, once he'd taken both of their coats.
"Yes, Sir," Sullivan replied, glancing at the girl before he excused himself to put away the coats. "Miss," he called politely mere moments later, waiting beside the staircase.
Elisabeth looked at Bennett for a moment and then turned and followed the butler.
Bennett watched her gingerly obey, knowing that whilst it hadn't been an easy afternoon for either of them, Bennett had to speak to her seriously about several things, and it was about to get even more raw. Elisabeth didn't say a word as she followed Sullivan to the room she'd slept in when she was Bennett's charge, and used the freestanding mirror to check her pinafore, straighten her Peter Pan collar beneath, straighten her tights and smooth her hair. She dabbed her face with a wet cloth and washed her hands. She felt a little better, but it was short-lived when Sullivan led Elisabeth down the corridor to Bennett's study. He knocked twice and waited for Bennett's approval, then opened the door and held it for her.
"Thank you," Bennett told his butler, with a quick glance before he transferred all of his attention back to Elisabeth.
Sullivan exited the study and closed the door behind him.
"Why are you cross with me?" Elisabeth asked abruptly.
"Here," Bennett said, pointing to the rug he stood on, but several feet out in front of him.
"I know where to stand," she retorted, as she walked to the very place with a vivid scowl on her face.
Bennett's arms were folded, and he didn't react verbally straightaway, which rather surprised her. Elisabeth waited.
"I understand – "
"You don't understand anything," Elisabeth cut him off. "You have a perfect, able-bodied mother who wastes her life making everyone else miserable, when my mother doesn't even know who you are!" Her voice faded. She stared back at him with tears sitting on her eyelids. "And if she did, she would never tell us what kind of wedding to have," she whispered.
Bennett closed his eyes and exhaled. He hadn't planned on Elisabeth saying that. That changed things, because he couldn't punish her for various behavioural infractions when he knew she was in a state. It wouldn't be fair, and she wouldn't learn anything.
"Elisabeth." He opened his eyes and walked to her. "Darling, there are so many things at the moment – I want you to compartmentalise some of them before they tear you apart."
"They already have."
Bennett looked at her seriously. "I can't help you through any of this if you won't let me."
Elisabeth stared back at him, her jaw set and teeth clenched. She was angry. "There's nothing you can do. It's done. My parents are dying, your parents put up with me. I'm not good enough for you. I'm going to be an orphan. What's the point?" she demanded.
Bennett raised an eyebrow and pulled her close by the arm. She was out of her state and fully eligible for correction from that comment.
"Would you like to repeat that?" He searched her eyes seriously. Now he was annoyed. The fact she had allowed her devastation to accuse other people of 'putting up with her', was enough for him to firm his expression. "Your attitude is completely out of order, young lady. It isn't fair for you to assume how my parents or anyone else feels about you."
Elisabeth's eyes searched his as she bit her tongue. She knew she was hurting Bennett with her unrelenting manner, the way she was pushing him away and saying horrible things. She knew it. But she couldn't stop. Something inside of her wanted to break out and attack everything and everyone around her because the pain in her chest was thumping and the only way for it to get out was through force. Forceful words and angry scowls. She didn't know how else to alleviate the hopeless, confusing anger that had overtaken her that morning.
Bennett returned to his full height and let go of her arm. They stood staring at each other. Him, in his three piece suit, ten years her elder standing in the middle of his formal study staring back at the girl before him who looked so much younger than a decade. She frowned, tears seemingly frozen in her eyes since earlier that day as she waited for his direction. Instinctively, she knew nothing would happen, no conversation take place, without Bennett leading it.
"I'll forget you said all of that," he cleared his throat.
"Why?"
Bennett put his hands behind his back. "Because none of it is true."
"A lot of it is true," she replied, immediately.
"Are you going to continue in this manner? Because I've no reservation with spanking it right out o
f you and picking up on the real reason for your attitude much later. It seems to me you're looking for an excuse to face the floor."
Elisabeth clenched her teeth. She kind of was. Perhaps in the way some people made love when they were hurting, she was seeking a reason to be put across his knee. She wondered if it would relieve the scream she felt was caught in her throat.
"Why would I do that?" she asked, defensively.
"One more time, young lady," he warned, without a flinch.
Elisabeth gulped. Bennett had given her way beyond any kind of limit he believed a person should have in crossing boundaries, which was the first step they took when they knew exactly where it was. Elisabeth knew her manner wasn't acceptable, but Bennett had very graciously allowed her to answer back as much as she had. He'd surprised himself thus far in even how long she'd gone in that way. But that was over. She'd vented and it was time for her to learn that venting didn't last forever. Or more than an hour under his watch.
"Your father has Alzheimer's," Bennett started. "Stage 6."
Elisabeth closed her eyes.
"The home-care nurses have suspected for a few weeks, but the diagnosis was just finally confirmed. They would have phoned last night, but they knew we were coming."
Bennett watched Elisabeth's eyes fall from him down to the floor. She nodded, slowly. He'd tried to tell her so in the car, but she stopped him and demanded to get out. She hadn't wanted to hear, and all that did was delay it. There she was, more than an hour later, angrier, receiving the same news. It hadn't done her any good to fight her way through the pain. In fact, she felt even more miserable.
"Your mother's headaches were supposedly getting worse, at least that's what she's been signing to the day nurse. They changed her medication, but now it makes her sleep most of the day, as you saw."
Elisabeth nodded.
"My mother humiliated us both this morning and you feel she rejected you in favour of her ridiculous social expectations."
Elisabeth didn't facially react, but she nodded again. Bennett stepped close and lifted her chin. "Is that all of it?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," she quietly replied. She felt suitably vented.
"One thing I must tell you, is that yes, my mother is correct in that there are expectations in this circle. However, our wedding is off limits. Now, are you done pushing me away?"
She nodded.
"Good girl," he said, putting a hand on her cheek. She looked so forlorn and young. Bennett bent down and tenderly kissed her lips.
Elisabeth's body relaxed, and she put her arms about his neck and stepped closer to him, standing on her tiptoes as she deepened the kiss. Bennett knew she was using that moment of intimacy to try and heal the brokenness she felt on the inside, and he couldn't let her. He had kissed her because he loved her and not because he thought a kiss would help mend her emotions. It wouldn't. It would only assure her of how solid his support was, even after knowing what he knew and hearing what he heard, his feelings for her were unrelenting.
"That'll do," he said, with that tone which made her want to kiss him even more.
She looked up at him longingly.
"Yes," he said, his expression warning her not to push him. He took her by the hand. "It's time to go down for dinner."
Damian was out with friends in London, so it was just the two of them that evening. Elisabeth ate slowly and quietly with Bennett keeping his thoughts to himself. It had been a sobering day after an unfruitful morning. It would have been better to write it off as 'a day to forget' and begin again in the morning. At least, that's how Elisabeth felt. She wanted to wake up the next day and rewind everything so they could try again. How she wished she could experience it once more in the hopes of changing part of it, any of it. The only bit that hadn't made her want to bury herself beneath a mountain of duvet covers and hide, was Bennett. He was the one who stood with her in the middle of it. Bennett was the one who wouldn't let her feel hopeless, or abandoned, or orphaned. He was the one who demanded she face the reality of the circumstances, but then would be there when she collapsed from the pain.
"Bennett?"
He looked up from the head of the table where he sat, glancing down so he didn't cut his roast crooked. "Yes, Darling," he replied.
Her eyes were concentrated and sincere. "I love you."
Chapter Eight
Damian didn't like deep red wine. His palette was unashamedly sweet, and he liked froofy, juice-like alcohol. He couldn't help it. Bennett was the tall, dark and handsome one, after all.
"At least humour us, Fowler, and have a brandy."
Damian swallowed the last of his dessert wine and replaced the glass on the table before he wiped his mouth with his napkin, and placed it beside the empty plate. He also aligned his fork and knife and looked across at his three friends.
"If it will help you sleep tonight," he replied.
The three of them glanced at each other as the waiter arrived.
"Four brandies, and I'll have the bill," Damian said, glancing at the waiter.
"Yes, Sir," the waiter replied, and cleared the empty plates.
"Fowler," his friend, Benjamin started. "You bought last time."
"I have the biggest trust fund," he replied, as he reached into his trousers and removed his monogrammed wallet.
"And still live at home with Mummy and Daddy," Ian added.
"Mummy and Father, actually," Damian corrected, as he slipped his Coutts debit card into the leather portfolio with the bill. "He never took to 'daddy," he replied casually.
His friends chuckled as Damian sat back.
"Really, now. When are you going to leave Greystone?" Grady cleared his throat.
Benjamin and Ian looked at their friend.
"I'm at Barton-Court for the moment, with Bennett. So technically, I already have."
"What's that?" Benjamin asked. "Does he cane you when you miss curfew? Or breathe?" they all laughed.
Damian looked at them seriously. "That's none of your business."
Benjamin, Grady and Ian stopped laughing immediately.
"Cheers, lads," Damian said, raising his brandy when it arrived.
They awkwardly glanced at each other and reached for theirs.
"Only joking," he said, cracking a smile.
Benjamin rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell," he said, shaking his head.
"What?" Damian asked, after he swallowed. "By the way, the only affection you're getting this week is vibrating in your pocket." He nodded toward Benjamin's blazer.
Benjamin mumbled as he returned his tumbler to the polished wooden table, removed his phone and excused himself.
"You were joking, right?" Grady asked, with half a grin.
"About Bennett? Let's all hope." Damian swallowed and raised an eyebrow.
Ian chuckled and shook his head.
"He caned me so many times when he was Head Boy, I wouldn't be surprised if the marks were still there," Ian said.
"You and me both," Damian replied casually.
"I never got in trouble," Grady remarked.
"We know," Damian and Ian said.
"When are we going to meet this girl who was probably caned until she accepted his marriage proposal?"
"He only canes Elisabeth when she's really naughty, otherwise, I think it's just his bare hand." Damian closed one eye and looked down into his empty brandy glass. He was terribly amused with himself.
Grady and Ian chuckled and shook their heads. They were absolutely positive that was the alcohol talking.
"You're full of it tonight, Fowler."
"Am I?" Damian asked, as he looked around and held up his empty brandy glass and set it back on the table. "Your tie is crooked." He pointed to Grady.
"It should be; I left the office an hour ago. Unlike some people, I work every day."
"That's because your parents don't love you as much as Fowler's here, who had his entire future put in the bank before they even crawled into bed that night."
Damian raised
an eyebrow across the table at Ian.
"Bloody hell, Marks, speaking of being full of it."
"Yes, you are being a bit of a git." Grady looked at his friend.
"Sorry about that," Benjamin said as he returned to the table and put the phone in his blazer pocket. "What did I miss?"
"I'm having another brandy and then I'm off."
"What's the rush?" Benjamin asked, glancing at his watch.
"Big brother might wallop him if he gets in too late."
Damian shook his head. "And yet you still clear your throat and call Bennett 'Sir' whenever you see him."
Ian frowned and opened his mouth but nothing came out.
"You all do." Damian raised an eyebrow and grinned.
They quietly sipped their drinks. Bennett was two years elder than Damian and his friends; he'd also been Head Boy for most of their school career, which meant they were keenly watched by the prefects. Damian was held to a higher standard having been the younger brother of the Head Boy. They wouldn't admit it out loud, but that school hierarchy was still there. Unspoken and subtle, but it was there.
"You can meet Elisabeth at the engagement party. I highly doubt any of you would get through dinner at Barton-Court. You'd all be stuttering and yes Sir'ing the entire time."
Benjamin replied, with an amused looked, "I'm not afraid of Bennett anymore."
Damian chuckled and took a sip of his second brandy.
"How did he manage to find a girl before us, anyway?" Ian rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Precisely the reason you think – Elisabeth finds him irresistible."
Grady, Benjamin and Ian looked at each other and then at Damian.
"Is she human?"
Damian looked back at Ian. "She's lovely."
They watched Damian finish his second brandy.
"There, you can get that one," he said, as he stood up and slid the glass toward his friends.
Benjamin shook his head.
"Nicely done," he sarcastically replied to Ian.
Damian sat behind the wheel of his car, his head back against the headrest and engine gently purring as cars of such expense did. He exhaled as he stared at his headlights blinding the brick wall in front of him, realising his car keys were still at the valet stand. He'd gotten into his car with a code and started the engine with his fingerprint, but his bloody keys were back where he'd left them – with the man he'd paid to park the contraption.
