A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 48: Ben

When he came back to his study, he found her lying in the same place that he had left her, except her body had curved into a ball. As if even in her sleep, she felt as if she needed to protect herself from him. He closed his eyes as remorse made them sting. He dropped to his knees and gently lifted her into his arms.

He had held her like this frequently enough that his arms welcomed the warm weight of her. His body sang as her head came to rest against his shoulder, delighting in the touch of its beloved while his heart tore itself to pieces in the knowledge that likely this was the last time she would ever allow him such a liberty.

'I love you,' he whispered into her hair as he pressed a kiss to it, the words that should have been spoken ages ago lost to the darkness of the staircase. Ben's heart hurt with the futility of his confession. These words had belonged to the night that they had gone to the fair, dressed as paupers. Or the day she had promised to never let him drown. Or even the day she had told him that she felt the same for him. So many happy moments, so many moments filled with laughter and affection and rightness. 'I am so sorry. I love you so damn much.'

Of course, he did. What else could explain the unequivocal joy that he experienced in her presence? The contentment, the friendship, the peace whenever they were together? The way he thought of her constantly when they were apart, how he would count the days until they could be together again? What else could explain the way she brightened the very crevices of his soul that he had long forgotten about?

He smiled more when she was with him, he laughed and teased. He was a better person because of her. He breathed easier. He remembered to be a person instead of just a damned title. Benedict instead of this vessel of duty and obligation that existed only for the perception of others.

I'm going to lose her.

No.

I have already lost her.

Of course, he had loved her for ages now.

What else could explain this all-consuming pain he felt at the unmoving weight of her body in his arms? Limp as a ragdoll. What else could explain the feeling that he had sundered his very soul with his anger?

He climbed the steps to her bed chamber, one that she had never slept in before. He'd had it furnished with new furniture in anticipation of her arrival, everything from the wallpaper to the bed was just for her. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity. All this time, he had been trying to show her what his heart knew before his mind had come to the correct conclusion and now she would never believe him.

'Darling, wake up, please.' He murmured as he gently laid her on the bed. 'Please, my love. I.... I know I wasn't listening before, but I am now. You were trying to tell me,' his voice broke over the last sentence, his throat thick with remorse and agony. 'I should have listened, I know I should have listened. I've been such a fool, Minerva.'

As he had changed, his thoughts had been unable to turn from the question of what would have induced Ophelia to seek Minerva's help instead of turning to him, and a disturbing suspicion had settled into his stomach. Ophelia's recent clumsiness, the way Needham's demeanor sometimes became incredibly chilling for just a moment before he returned back to his jovial self.

'I slipped while getting out of the bath, can you imagine?'

'He gets so jealous..... It used to be charming when I was younger but...'

'You did not have to embarrass me in front of your brother.'

'You were always smarter than me, weren't you? With such a big heart. You saw it so early, didn't you? And my mother and I saw nothing like the fools we are.' He brought her palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss against it. Her skin was burning up.