by K. Webster
Becoming Mrs. Benedict
Copyright © 2015 K. Webster
Cover Design: All By Design
Photo: Dollar Photo Club
Editor: Mickey Reed
Formatting: Champagne Formats
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Newsletter
Books by Author K Webster
Dedication
Quote
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
The Practical Joke
A Note from K
Acknowledgements
About the Author
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Books by Author K Webster
The Breaking the Rules Series:
Broken (Book 1)—Available Now!
Wrong (Book 2)—Available Now!
Scarred (Book 3)—Available Now!
Mistake (Book 4)—Available Now!
Crushed (Book 5—a novella)—Available Now!
Disgrace (Book 6)—Coming Soon!
Defiance (Book 7)—Coming Soon!
The Vegas Aces Series:
Rock Country (Book 1)—Available Now!
Rock Heart (Book 2)—Available Now!
Rock Bottom (Book 3)—Available Now!
Rock Out (Book 4)—Coming Soon!
The Becoming Her Series:
Becoming Lady Thomas (Book 1)—Available Now!
Becoming Countess Dumont (Book 2)—Available Now!
Becoming Mrs. Benedict (Book 3)—Coming Soon!
Alpha & Omega—Available Now!
Omega & Love—Coming Soon!
Apartment 2B (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
Love and Law (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
Moth to a Flame (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
Erased (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
The Road Back to Us (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
Five days after . . .
ELLA MERRIWEATHER. THE INNOCENT blonde I never pursued because I’d actually respected the wishes of her older sister, Edith. Now, it’s too late. Somehow, I blame myself. For if I would have gone after the young woman who had somehow seized my heart with her shy glances and unusually wise, crystal-blue eyes, she would be safe.
In my arms.
When I met her, I assumed my normal urge to conquer and fuck the woman would have possessed me.
But with Ella? It did not.
Instead, some other feeling overwhelmed me. The need to protect her. Even if that meant protecting her from the likes of men like me.
And now?
At what cost?
“Edith! Alexander!” I shout as I burst into their bedroom without warning.
Edith’s eyes widen in surprise, and Xander is suckling on her tit. My nephew is perfect, and upon his birth, something began to fester inside me. I had a newfound desire to have a child of my own and soon. I’d need to find a wife first though.
“Brother, what is it?” Alexander demands.
My chest heaves because I’ve been traveling without stopping at an almost inhuman pace to get here to deliver the news.
“It’s—It’s—” I pant out and double over to attempt to catch my breath.
“What?” they both exclaim in unison.
“Ella. She was taken in the middle of the night.”
Edith bursts into tears while Alexander curses. After stalking over to my brother’s wife, I lean forward and plant a kiss on the top of her head.
I pull back and stare at her fiercely. “Don’t you worry, sugar. I’m going to get her back—for us.”
And with that, I burst from the bedroom and make my journey back to London as fast as I possibly can. I’m going to go save my future.
I PLACE A PALM on Father’s forehead and cringe when I feel the heat of his skin. His health has deteriorated over the past few months and I’m worried sick about him. The doctor says that he is on death’s bed, but I refuse to believe that. However, as I regard his grey—almost green—flesh and considerably labored breathing, I know. The man who has taken care of and provided for me for almost nineteen years of my life will soon be gone.
Then where will I go?
I suppose I could visit Lissa in London, but ever since she discovered that she is pregnant with their second child, she’s busied herself with the preparations for the baby. Little Gus is at the age where he gets into everything. I would only be in the way.
And Edith?
She’s written to me numerous times and asked me to come visit. I’ve yet to see little Xander, but she promises he’s gorgeous. Havering is so far away though, and since she and Alexander live with his family, I would, again, feel as if I were an intrusion into their lives.
For as long as I can remember, I have been the one everyone wants to look after. The baby sister. But now, as I wring a cool rag out and place it above Father’s brow, I believe I have finally grown into a woman. I’m coming into my own.
And with this change, I need to embrace the fact that Father will soon die. It will crush me when it happens, but I will expect it. My poor sisters have no idea of his health, but I don’t want to worry them. I shall inform them only after his inevitable death, as not to have them fret in their current states.
I stifle a yawn and rise from his bedside. He hasn’t spoken in days or hardly opened his eyes. Tomorrow morning, I could wake up and he could be gone.
“Father, I love you. You were always good to us and Mother,” I whisper through my tears.
When I bend and press a kiss on his cheek, the tears splash his face. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Very well,” I murmur as I extinguish the candles in his room.
He lies there very still as I watch him. His breaths continue to be loud and labored, but aside from that, he remains motionless. With a sigh, I exit his room and hurry back into the one I used to share with my sister, Lissa.
Memories of her are everywhere. She and I were much closer than Edith and I. Edith was away for four years at university, so that meant Elisabeth and I spent nearly every waking moment together. When she left with Lord Thomas, she didn’t take a single item with her. Nor did she ever return to retrieve them. It was as if she had become someone new and left her old life behind.
I’ll never admit it to her aloud, but it broke my heart to lose her. And even though we’ve seen each other a couple of times since then, I still miss her incredibly so.
My gaze falls upon my reflection in the mirror above the dresser on the far wall. As an adult, I’m taller than either of my sisters and nearly as tall as Father. The weight from my childhood is long gone, a
nd I’ve become slender and willowy. Wide, blue eyes peer back at me, and I frown. I don’t feel beautiful like my sisters; I feel cast aside as the dull, younger sister.
Whilst they are out carrying on with their lives with their incredibly handsome husbands, I’m left here to nurse our dying father. I have no one to talk to. No potential lovers. Nothing. It seems as if I am alone in this rather large world.
I am burdened with remaining in this cage that is my life when I was born to soar among the clouds.
Maybe he’ll come for you. There was a connection between you and him.
My thoughts flit to the first time I met the handsome man who steals my thoughts daily. It’s been nearly a year since I met him, but I think of him often and wonder about him. I’m sure he’s found a wife by now and has a child on the way. Nonetheless, I remember the way he made me feel, and I grasp on to that sensation. It makes me feel alive—like one day, I shall burst from this cage and do great things with my life.
“Alcott, this is my wife’s sister, Ella. And her father, Franklin,” Alexander gruffly says, introducing us to his brother.
I want to stare at the man before me, yet my skin burns simply from looking at him. It wasn’t long ago that William showed up from university and I also felt flushed by the simple fact that he was so handsome. But Alcott? This man is achingly beautiful. My heart hurts from just the mere sight of him.
“Your sisters are pretty, Ella, but clearly, they left the exquisite beauty for their younger sister. How is it that you don’t have a lad on your arm aside from that of your father?” he inquires with a velvety-smooth voice that makes my skin prickle with awareness.
Father tenses beside me, and I feel he shall embarrass me with his protective nature. Of course I am correct, because he speaks, causing my cheeks to burn further.
“Son, my daughter isn’t eighteen yet. Perhaps you shouldn’t be looking at her with a gaze that is dangerous when in a woman’s father’s presence,” Father threatens.
I steal a glance at Alcott to apologize for my father’s behavior through an unspoken look, and I’m unnerved when I see him blatantly staring at me—as if I’m a small bird and he’s a cat ready to pounce.
The sad thing is that I want this gorgeous man to pounce. To paw me and lick me.
When his brown eyes meet mine, they increasingly darken—almost seeming that he has access into my thoughts. Then his gaze finds my lips and I feel lightheaded and dizzy. I may faint at any moment.
Maybe he will catch me.
“Sir,” Alcott says to my father while staring directly at me, “I apologize for my forward nature. But your daughter is simply the most perfect being I have thus encountered in this lifetime. Excuse me while I savor her a moment longer.”
Father growls, but when Alexander’s booming voice interjects, he is distracted from the younger brother. They carry on a conversation while Alcott and I continue with a much more silent one.
“A lad should be so lucky to have a woman such as yourself on his arm.” He flashes me a grin that makes my knickers feel as if they may catch fire. When he seizes my hand, I gasp. Then he raises the back of it to his lips and presses a soft kiss there. “I hope luck is with me tonight.”
And with that, he releases my hand and throws me a wink before stalking off somewhere else within the home.
I’m left a hot, flustered mess.
For the first time in my life, I am more than just the baby sister in my family. I am womanly and grown.
Good luck to you, Alcott Dumont. I’m most certainly hoping that luck is, indeed, on your side.
My memory fades, but the smile on my lips does not. If life had taken another turn, I could be married to a man like Alcott. A man who seems to wear his passionate nature on the outside rather than hiding it within like I do. Perhaps once Father truly passes, I shall go look for him.
Oh, who am I fooling anyhow? So much time has passed. He is certainly happily married, gracing his elegant wife with his grins that will melt her knickers daily.
My life is certain. I shall always be alone. It might be nice if God could take me when he takes Father. Then I could be with both him and Mother. Now that’s a life I would truly want to live.
I quickly remove my frock and don my thin dressing gown. As a chilly breeze enters my room from my open window, I briefly consider closing it. Instead, I opt to climb into the bed and bury myself under my covers, where I can dream of days when my family was whole.
Silence.
I sit up from a dead sleep and scan my dark room. Only the moonlight entering from the window lights my room. Something is wrong. I can feel it.
“Father,” I call out, but my voice is more of a whisper. Bumps rise on my flesh as I fear he’s finally met his death. “No!” I sob.
After scrambling from my bed, I run toward my bedroom door but slam into a rock-hard frame. My first thought is one of glee as I think maybe Father is well. However, as a strong hand steadies my arm and the scent of lemon and bourbon floods my senses, I realize there is another man in my house.
“Help!” I shriek before the intruder slams a palm over my mouth, silencing me.
Twisting away from him, I tear off toward the open window. I continue to scream, but I know that it is a fruitless endeavor, considering the nearest neighbor is too far from shouting distance. The window is within reach when the strong man’s arm hooks around my waist and hauls me to him.
“Sweet girl, it is only me. William.”
His gravelly voice instantly calms me. I’ve known William Benedict since I was a small girl, and he has always protected and looked after me. Once my sister chose to be with Jasper, I knew that William was heartbroken. In some ways, I always wondered if he would come for me and sweep me off my feet. I waited for some time and finally gave the notion up.
But now?
He’s here, in my bedroom, with his muscled arm around my waist. This is certainly romantic, and silly, girlish ideas of him kissing me run through my head, pushing away sane thoughts as to why he’s here in the first place. Perhaps it was always my destiny to marry the simple farm boy from down the road. Dreams of being with the unattainable Alcott vanish as I try to formulate new ones with William.
“I was frightened,” I murmur as my body relaxes in his arms. I feel him inhale my hair and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Darling, no need to be frightened. I have come for you.”
A sigh rushes from me, and a smile plays at my lips. “Took you long enough,” I tease.
He twists me around in his arms so that I’m facing him. With the moonlight pouring in through the window, I’m rewarded with a view of the man who only became more handsome after he had come back from university. Shadows darken his face, and he almost appears to be angry. I drink in his blue eyes that seem to be on fire with an intensity I have never seen from him before. His cheeks are scruffy from having not shaven in days. He’s utterly breathtaking. Not nearly as handsome as Alcott, but certainly beautiful in his own way.
When he sways and brings his mouth close to mine, I realize he’s been drinking. I want to push him away and tell him to go home—to come back when he is sober. But as I remain locked in his arms, I don’t want him to go. In fact, I want him to press his lips to mine and give me my first kiss.
“Are you still a virgin?” he questions briskly.
My eyes widen at his words. “Of course I am, William. I haven’t ever even been kissed—”
I’m interrupted when he slams his lips to mine. At first, the kiss is just our lips interlocked. But soon, with a little urging, he gets my mouth to part open for him. Then his tongue slips in and eagerly tastes mine. I find that I enjoy the taste of bourbon on his tongue—so much so that a needy moan escapes me.
Who knew that my first kiss would be from my sister’s old love, William Benedict? Thoughts of the two of us growing old in Father’s farm home and rearing several children floods my mind, pushing my silly dreams of Alcott out. With William, this is more of a rea
l dream—this fantasy could happen.
I just knew I would get my happy ending. And somehow, I knew that it would always be with William. I just hadn’t admitted that to myself.
“My God,” he groans as his hand grips my bottom. He pulls me to him, the indication of his thick, hard arousal evident against my lower stomach. “What I wouldn’t give to fuck you right about now.”
I break our kiss, his words having startled me. “William, maybe you should go. Return tomorrow when you aren’t drunk and I’ll cook you a fine meal. Perhaps you could get Father’s blessings to be with me. He’s very ill, you know—” My words still in my throat when I tug away from him and see the blood on his shirt. “William? Are you hurt?” I gasp and reach back for him. I gingerly skim my fingers all over him, searching for the source of blood, but I’m confused when I don’t find one.
The silence.
Father.
“William, what have you done?” I say in the softest voice.
“’Tis time for retribution for what they have done to me. I shall make them all pay for ruining my life—for taking her from me,” he snarls, his blue eyes snaring me in their gaze. “And you, Ella. Sweet, virgin Ella are part of this repayment.”
I burst into tears and once again dive for the window. As quickly as I conjured up the romanticism of William and me, I swipe them from my mind. The man is a monster, not a husband.
This time when I make it to the window, he shoves me and I land in the shrub outside of it, thorns scratching me through my dressing gown.
“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs as I try to disentangle myself from the bush.
“Shut your mouth, Ella. Nobody can hear you.”
I’m still scrambling to free myself when I hear him land with a heavy thud on the ground behind me. With his hand fisting the back of my dressing gown, he yanks me out of the bush. I manage to claw him across his face before he tackles me into the grass, pinning me beneath him. The sick man is still aroused, and in a vulgar manner, he thrusts against me.
