Benedict's Commands

by Golden Angel

  The Baroness was a Diamond of the First Water, a delicate English rose, and a pocket Venus all rolled up into one. Her smile was warm, welcoming, and flirtatious as she spoke to several gentlemen. The frilly collar of her dress did nothing to hide an impressive amount of décolletage, and the dress itself clung to curves just as rounded as Christina’s. Her petite height made it possible for the gentlemen around her to enjoy a very fine view of her bosom, one which they were obviously enchanted by. All in all, she was one of the most stunningly attractive packages he’d ever seen.

  But when she looked across the room and their eyes met, the repulsion he’d expected to feel finally rose up as she smiled flirtatiously and fluttered her fan.

  His expression like stone, Benedict turned his head away without acknowledging her. It was not the cut direct, as she could not be sure he had even met her gaze, and no one else would realize what had just happened as they were so far distant from each other, but it was the least he could do. There was something rapacious in her gaze, acquisitively calculating.

  He was honest enough to know if he had not met and fallen in love with Christina he likely would not have been repelled, but since he had and he knew what the Baroness was, he felt nothing but revulsion.

  “Where is Cynthia?” Lydia asked suddenly, her head swiveling around.

  The question was so abrupt, so off point, that Benedict stared at her in confusion. “Why?”

  “Because she’s the only one brazen enough to spill something on the Baroness’ dress and force her to leave,” his sister-in-law said matter-of-factly, before immediately setting off with a determined stride. Seeing her path, it was obvious she’d sighted Lady Spencer.

  He should have remembered exactly how Machiavellian his normally sweet and gentle sister-in-law could be.

  ******

  Something was wrong. Christina knew it as soon as Isaac began leading her back towards Benedict, where Daphne had joined them. Her husband looked tense, and Daphne looked ready to burst.

  “Where is Lydia?” Isaac asked, as soon as they’d reached Benedict, craning his neck around in search of his wife.

  “Over there, speaking with Lady Spencer,” Benedict said, nodding his head in their direction. Obviously seeing her, Isaac handed Christina off to Benedict and made his bow so he could go claim his own wife.

  Holding out his arm, Benedict gave her a tight smile as she took it, his anxiety palpable.

  “What is wrong?” she asked, looking back and forth between her husband and best friend. “Has something happened?”

  “She’s here,” Daphne said simply, her green eyes glowing with protective fury. Ice washed over Christina, immediately dousing any enjoyment she’d been feeling. She tightened her fingers on Benedict’s arm, prompting him to make a soothing, shushing noise as he placed his fingers over hers in comfort and reassurance.

  Feeling sick to her stomach, she automatically began to look around, but Benedict pulled at her arm, leaning in towards her and drawing her focus back to him. His brown eyes were filled with warmth and love, a tenderness which made her catch her breath at the intensity of it.

  “She doesn’t matter, love,” he said, his voice low but clear. “I will not leave your side for the rest of tonight, because I do not wish you to worry, but even if we separated for the entire evening you would have no cause to feel the slightest bit of anxiety. My heart, my body, my love is yours completely.”

  Her own words of love swelled up, just on the tip of her tongue… but Benedict deserved better than a declaration in the middle of a ballroom while she was obviously anxious over the Baroness’ presence. Not once had Christina said the words, as though by holding them back she could keep from being hurt again. On the other side of Benedict, Christina could see Daphne, looking rather misty-eyed, obviously having overheard his bald statement.

  “Mine is yours,” Christina whispered back, her throat tight. It was the closest she could come to declaring her emotions without actually saying the words - although she would, later tonight in private. The happy joy, glowing from within, lit Benedict’s face and was more than worth the tremor of anxiety threading through her.

  On his arm, she could bravely face whatever trouble the Baroness tried to stir.

  And she did try.

  Benedict led Christina and Daphne to Arabella’s circle of suitors, where Lydia and Isaac already were, along with the Spencers. Cynthia shot Christina a look which Christina couldn’t interpret, winking at her as she raised a glass of punch in a kind of acknowledgement. Beside her, her husband frowned, eyes narrowed in speculation as he studied his wife suspiciously. She could only imagine the hoydenish Countess was up to some mischief.

  From their spot in the circle, it did not take long for Christina to locate the Baroness. The beauty had gathered a whole coterie of gentlemen around her, although she constantly looked over where Christina stood, smirking and fluttering her fan. A triumphant little smile curved her lips when her eyes rested on where Christina’s hand was clinging to Benedict’s arm. Christina tried to tell herself she didn’t care, but truthfully it irked knowing the Baroness was aware of how she affected Christina.

  Once, she thought she saw the Baron moving through the crowded ballroom as well. She mostly remembered him for his kindness in the wake of George’s death and the revelation of their spouses’ betrayals. He had not seemed weak to her, nor unattractive, so she did not know why the Baroness behaved as she did. Mostly, Christina hoped the Baron did not actually love his wife, for she could not imagine how awful it would be to love a continually unfaithful spouse.

  Benedict, for his part, completely ignored the Baroness’ presence across the ballroom in a manner which Christina did her best to emulate. She was beginning to have some success, which was why she was so startled when the Baroness came swanning up to their circle on the arm of Mr. Walter Hood.

  Chapter 15

  Seeing Walter Hood moving through the ballroom towards their circle, the vivacious and flirtatious Baroness on his arm, Benedict wanted to curse.

  He hadn’t been able to warn his friends about the Baroness, not in the least because he couldn’t imagine how to do so without rousing their curiosity over why they should avoid her at all costs, and Walter likely had no idea he’d been manipulated. From the triumphant gleam in the Baroness’ eye as she came toward them on Walter’s arm, she was planning on causing some kind of trouble. Brazen, really, considering Christina was surrounded by her own friends and family. Lady Daphne had been taken off to dance with her own husband after Christina had settled, but the rest of her allies remained in place.

  Lydia, at least, was aware of the woman’s existence and was willing to protect Christina - and bless her for not even asking why they were mortal enemies - and he was quite sure she’d managed to pass the message along to Cynthia at least. The gentlemen might be left floundering, but he was fairly certain his sister and Gabrielle would be immediately hostile to any lady Lydia and Cynthia were cold to.

  The only question, really, was what he should do.

  Take Christina away in retreat?

  Cut the Baroness completely and end up also insulting Walter? He could do so, and explain to Walter later.

  But he did not want to be so high-handed with making a decision for Christina, not in this. Obviously, he didn’t mind being high-handed with other aspects of their lives, but here… there were too many possible missteps.

  Leaning down to whisper in his wife’s ear, he decided it was best to follow her lead. “The Baroness has managed to secure Walter Hood’s arm and is headed in this direction, ostensibly for an introduction to everyone.” He felt Christina’s body stiffen next to his, tension gripping her tightly. Which only made him angrier at the Baroness, as Christina truly had begun to relax even with the woman present. “What do you wish us to do? We can retreat… I will cut her if you wish it… it is your decision.”

  ******

  To run…

  Yes!

  No. She wante
d to, but why should she be chased away from her friends?

  To watch Benedict give the woman the cut direct… his family would follow suit, but…

  Christina looked towards the approaching couple.

  The genial smile on Mr. Hood’s face. The nasty, victorious one on the Baroness’.

  Mr. Hood was a charming rogue, one whom Christina rather liked. It certainly wasn’t his fault he didn’t know about the animosity between herself and the Baroness. He didn’t deserve to be another victim of the Baroness, embarrassed by his friends and family because the woman had used him. Giving her the cut direct would humiliate Mr. Hood as well, perhaps even damaging his friendship with Benedict.

  Anger swelled up inside of her. For this was likely what the Baroness had intended. She wanted to make Christina either retreat or hurt her friend. She wanted to make Christina uncomfortable, distressed. The same way she had been all night by sending little glances and fan flutterings Benedict’s way even if he wasn’t paying attention. But Christina had begun to manage to turn her focus away from the Baroness.

  In fact, Christina’s success in beginning to ignore the woman might even be what had driven her to up the ante.

  Pushing down her emotions and her doubts, holding herself secure in her faith in Benedict as her champion, Christina shook her head and looked up at him.

  “I am fine, darling,” she said calmly, her voice sounding a little distant to her own ears, as if it were someone else’s. “While I certainly will not be welcoming, I can manage to be civil.”

  “Then we will be civil,” he said, pressing his fingers against hers before straightening up, just as Mr. Hood and the Baroness reached them.

  Introductions were made, beginning with Isaac and Lydia of course. Lydia was haughtily cold to the Baroness, startling both her husband and Walter - the latter began to look a little unsure of himself. Also, unsure of his wife’s motivations, Isaac nevertheless followed suit, greeting the Baroness properly but not warmly. Taking her lead from Lydia, Arabella was imperiously detached in her greeting as only a Duke’s sister could be.

  Christina didn’t quite know how they had known - Lydia, at least, must know something after all! - but she found herself blinking back tears at their immediate support.

  A slightly baffled expression on his face, which was quickly turning grim as he realized he must have made a misstep somewhere, Mr. Hood turned towards Benedict. As second brother of a Duke and still bearing the honorary title of Marquess until Lydia bore an heir, Benedict was the next highest-ranking member of the group. Which had not given Christina much time to steel herself, but after the rest of the family’s cold reception of the Baroness, it was enough.

  “How lovely to meet you,” the Baroness said in a throaty, sultry voice she hadn’t used until just now, fluttering her long lashes up at Benedict. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Looking distinctly uncomfortable now, poor Mr. Hood looked very much as though he wished to dislodge the Baroness from his arm, but there was no way to politely do so. They could do nothing more than brazen on with the awkwardness the Baroness had created, and was now feeding with her obvious flirtation right in front of Christina.

  Isaac looked horrified, Lydia infuriated, and Arabella was making some kind of wild gesture at Cynthia, who started forward with a wicked gleam in her eye before her husband’s hand on her arm hauled her back for a heated, whispered conversation. The coterie of gentlemen who had been courting Arabella and were still waiting to be introduced looked distinctly uncomfortable, torn between setting themselves apart from the growing drama or watching it intently.

  “I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well,” Benedict said, but his contemptuous tone hinted none of what he’d heard was flattering.

  Vicious indignation flared in the Baroness’ eyes, but she let out a tinkling laugh. She gave Benedict a feeling look, glancing at Christine with the most appalling expression of sympathy on her face. “Oh dear… you make it sound so dire.” She sighed, the very image of a misunderstood martyr. “It is quite lowering to know the things people will say out of jealousy or malice.”

  “Even more lowering to know the things people will do,” Christina said, her voice low and biting. It was obvious the others were paying very close attention, aware of the undercurrents even if they didn’t know the why of them, and debating whether or not to intervene.

  But, despite the emotions roiling just beneath her surface, Christina felt rather pleased at the direct hit she’d just landed.

  The Baroness looked more than a little taken aback at Christina’s pluck and response, as if she’d truly expected Christina to just stand there silently while she flirted with Benedict. Or perhaps she’d thought Christina would erupt with anger, try to deny the Baroness’ words or defend herself, all of which would make Christina come off rather badly to their audience.

  She still smiled though, tittering as though Christina had said something particularly amusing, malice gleaming in her expression.

  “It is quite shocking, isn’t it?” the Baroness said, twisting the words around, and Christina realized she was referring to Christina’s own flirtation and subsequent affair with Haversham… which had been motivated by the Baroness’ interest in him. Heat flushed Christina’s cheeks. She’d liked Haversham for himself as well! Otherwise she would have never been able to follow through with it. The Baroness batted her eyes at Benedict again. “Fortunately, I have quite an understanding husband, who is quite immune to the gossip of the envious.”

  “Not as understanding as you make him sound,” Christina shot back without thinking, immediately biting her lip as she realized her impulsive answer had allowed her true emotions to show. Lydia and Gabrielle’s small gasps as they realized what Christina’s innuendo must mean were quite audible, and even the gentlemen widened their eyes.

  Even if the Baron and Baroness did have some kind of arrangement now, they certainly hadn’t when the Baroness had been George’s lover, or he wouldn’t have been killed while fleeing her husband.

  “You-”

  Whatever the Baroness had been about to say, it was lost as Cynthia suddenly stumbled forward, practically wrenching herself away from her husband, and the cup in her hand went arching through the air.

  The Baroness let out a shocked squeal as cold liquid spattered against her backside. She spun around in outrage and Christina’s eyes widened at the red liquid staining the beautiful blue skirts of the Baroness’ dress.

  “Oh my… look at what I did…” Cynthia said, tilting her head and attempting to look contrite. “I’m so clumsy!”

  “You… you…”

  “Yes?” Cynthia asked sunnily, smiling widely. Despite her friendly tone and expression, she somehow managed to look utterly terrifying. Behind her, Lord Spencer looked both resigned and amused at his wife’s antics.

  ******

  Benedict could barely keep his mouth from twitching at Lady Spencer’s audacity. She was barely bothering to pretend it was an accident - and it hadn’t escaped his notice she hadn’t really apologized for the spill either. Behind her, her husband seemed more amused than condemning, and Benedict remembered some rumors he’d heard about ladies who flirted with the Earl of Spencer often having sartorial mishaps. He now had a good idea exactly what might have happened to their dresses.

  On his arm, he could feel Christina trembling, and when he glanced down he was pleased to see she looked as though she were holding back laughter. The tension which had gripped her from the moment the Baroness had entered the ballroom had now dissipated entirely.

  The Baroness turned towards her escort, but Walter was looking at her with cold, contemptuous eyes; understanding he’d been duped and used by her, and he was unwilling to lend her any sort of assistance or alliance. The Baroness had vastly overestimated the strength of her charms.

  Drawing herself up, she pulled her hand away from Walter’s arm.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she said coldly, before turning on her heel and stalking away
. They were all treated to the sight of her punch-soaked backside again as she did so. Benedict manfully held back his laughter, as Christina put her hand over her lips. Everyone was quite restrained actually, other than Lady Spencer who snickered, which then caused Arabella to giggle.

  Gads he hoped his sister wasn’t picking up too much from the Countess - although, given the result, he couldn’t exactly feel upset. Looking around, he saw they’d been deserted by the gentlemen who had been dancing attendance on Arabella. He wasn’t sure when they’d retreated from the dramatics, but he wasn’t entirely surprised either. None of the upstanding, somewhat priggish nobles would have appreciated Lady Spencer’s antics - not that they’d dare say a word against her either, but the scene would have taxed their sensibilities.

  “Well baggage, you’ve chased off another one,” Wesley said, stepping up to his wife and placing his hand on the small of her back to gain her attention. His tone was aggrieved, but not truly condemning, as though he was making only the most basic nod to reprimanding her for her behavior. If he’d actually been upset, his reaction would have been very different. “Are you pleased with yourself?”

  “Very,” Lady Spencer said impishly, smiling up at him and looking very pleased with herself indeed. Then she looked over at Christina and Benedict, tilting her head to the side as if in query. “I am also very curious, however.”

  Looking down to meet his wife’s gaze, he pressed his fingers over hers in support again. While he would very much like to share what was going on with his friends and family, as he trusted them implicitly, this was also Christina’s decision to make.

  A feeling of warmth spread through him when she nodded. Looking around the circle at all of them, she cleared her throat. “Perhaps we could adjourn to a more private location and… I can tell you all everything.”

  Benedict didn’t think he’d ever been more proud of her.

  “Manchester House,” Isaac said decisively. He smiled encouragingly at Christina. “Whatever your connection with that awful woman, I can safely say we are all on your side, my dear.”