Trying to pass the time until dinner was served, Benjamin was engaged in a highly competitive billiards game, with himself. Hearing a whistle from the door, he caught the unwelcome sight of his cousin.
"I say, this looks like a fierce game. Tell me, do you think you'll win against you, or does you have the upper hand?" Eliot taunted, laughing at his own joke.
"No worries, I'll win," he replied, playing along.
"What do you say to a real game with actual competition?" Eliot countered.
"You're on."
With an evil look, Eli asked, "Hmmm, and what shall we wager to make it a little more fun?"
"I'm really not interested in betting on anything," Benjamin answered.
"Don't be a spoilsport. What's the problem, are you afraid you're going to lose? Let's say loser has to watch the winner make a move on Miranda," Eliot pressed on.
However, Benjamin refused to be baited, especially in anything concerning Miranda Bailey. "I'm sorry to let you down, but you can play by yourself if you insist on any stakes."
Noting the determination in Benjamin's face, Eliot decided to play nice, temporarily. "I have to admit, she's quite the package, beauty, intelligence, a delightful sense of…wickedness and of course let's not forget the money," he continued.
Benjamin wanted to slug him, but made an effort to keep his temper in check, "She's definitely special," was all he said.
"I have to wonder how it feels to have known her for months with no other man in sight, had ample opportunity to make her yours, and yet as soon as another man comes along, lose her instantly," Eliot smirked. "Of course, lacking any charm and looking like a horse's ass must have prepared you for lifelong rejection with any of the fairer sex."
A muscle in Benjamin's jaw twitched as he tried to calm himself down.
"Your attachment is plain as day, but honestly Benjamin, did you really think you ever stood a chance with the likes of Miranda?"
"I'm not a fool, Eliot."
"She'll never see you as anything but a pawn at best. No, Miranda is meant for a real man, like myself."
Swallowing his pride, Benjamin voiced his one true concern, "Please, just don't hurt her, she doesn't deserve it. If you do Eliot…I swear I'll make you pay."
Laughing heartily, Eliot answered, "What can you do to me?" Eyes gleaming he continued, "Don't worry, Benjamin, I'll be sure to put her beauty, wickedness, and money to good use."
"Breathe, just breathe," Miranda chanted over and over. Lying in bed, she decided these four walls were going to be her only world; she had no desire to go beyond them again. It had been hard enough to gather the strength after her interlude with Eliot to even head to dinner, but overhearing him with Benjamin in the billiards room had just about done her in. Reeling from their conversation, she barely accomplished conveying to the maid her new "illness" and absence from dinner.
How had she not seen Eliot as the fraud he was? And why had Benjamin not told her? Those thoughts made her burn with anger. Added to that, was the all consuming grief as she contemplated the loss of Benjamin.
Suddenly she wanted to be back in the safety of home, before Fran had left her: away from Eliot, away from this debacle, and most of all, away from Benjamin. How was she supposed to manage the next few weeks? Eliot was an aggravation, but she was surprised by how much the discovery of his true character didn't hurt. Him she could handle. But how would she hide her pain as she watched Benjamin whisper in Cassandra's ear? Or the light touches they would share as he danced or escorted her. The worst, however, was imagining them engaging in the intimate activities she and Benjamin had already done. Those inevitable images made her jealousy flare white hot.
She loved them both, but overcoming her own feelings to wish them happiness seemed impossible as well as tortuous.
Hearing that Miranda was ill made Benjamin want to rush up to her immediately. However, her message also said it wasn't serious enough for a doctor, so he tried to reign in his impulse for the sake of appearances. The last thing he wanted to do was arouse suspicion by insisting he look in on her, or worse, feign his own illness.
Even though the break from watching her and Eliot flirt shamelessly was refreshing, dinner was still a little dimmer for her absence. As soon as decorum allowed, he excused himself, claiming fatigue, and beat a hasty retreat to his room. Not sparing a moment to even remove his jacket, he rushed through the passage to see Miranda.
She was curled up facing away from the hidden door and breathing lightly, as though asleep. "Miranda, are you okay?" he whispered. When she didn't answer, he continued, "I know you're awake, I can tell by your breathing."
"I'm fine, I just want to be alone right now, Benjamin," came her small voice.
Walking around the bed, he saw her face mostly obscured by her arms. "Well, that's too bad, because I'm not leaving." Seeing the hint of wetness on her face, he bent down and softly asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I told you I'm fine. Just please go."
With determination in his voice, he said, "I'm afraid I can't leave until I know what's going on." Then, he climbed on the bed, laid next to her and pulled her, unprotesting, into his arms.
This simple act undid her: she let out a shuddering sigh and began to cry all over again. His hands ran soothingly up and down her back and he gently kissed around her tears. "Please tell me what's upsetting you," he pleaded.
Collecting herself somewhat, she managed to say, "I…I overheard you and Eliot tonight."
As much as he despised Eliot, Benjamin would rather Miranda never witnessed that conversation, if she loved his cousin. Seeing her this distressed pained him. "I'm so sorry, Miranda. But Eliot treats things he values well, and I believe he values you."
In shock, she drew back. Through her tear-stained face, he could see her indignation. "How can you even say that? How could you try to talk me into being with a cretin?"
"I only thought your love ran deep and if that's the case, then because he is attracted to you, I think he would be good to you," he reasoned.
"Honestly, after the initial shock, it is not Eliot's offensive character that's troubling me."
Curious, he asked, "Then why?"
Staring intently at him with her watery eyes, she sighed, "Benjamin, why did you never tell me about him? Why would you not warn me, do you care so little? And why would you let him treat you so ill?"
"No, of course I care. Too much in fact," he answered, exasperated. "That's why I didn't share my fears. Eliot was never a friend of mine, but I was afraid that my feelings for you may have colored my view of him. I told myself I didn't have a right to let my prejudices interfere with your future."
"They're not prejudices if they're true. The man really is an ass. And you didn't answer me, why would you let him put you down?" she persisted.
"I second guessed myself, wondering if my dislike of him was for good reason. I hadn't seen him in years, so I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Tonight, of course, as you saw, I realized I my dislike was not unfounded." He gently lifted a lock of her hair off her cheek, then continued. As to his attitude towards myself, I had learned long ago that fighting with Eliot only encouraged him. Besides, he didn't say anything that was untrue, about me anyway," he finished, suddenly not able to meet her eyes.
"Everything he said was untrue," she countered, quietly trying to meet his gaze. Sighing again, she then turned away, "Well, it doesn't matter now. I have been remiss to congratulate you about Cassandra." With only a slight hitch, she continued, "She truly is a wonderful girl."
Confusion filled him, "What about Cassandra?"
"On your relationship of course," she answered, starting to pull away.
Thinking over their conversation, a tiny ray of hope began in his chest. "Miranda, you said it wasn't Eliot that wounded you, is it just my lack of warning and challenging him that grieves you? Or is there something else?"
"I'm tired now, Benjamin, and I just need some peace. Will you let me rest?" she asked, turning on her other side.
Leaning over her, he bent down to her ear and whispered enticingly, "Let me help you to rest." Running his tongue around her ear he then nibbled on her lobe as his hands stroked along her back.
"You really shouldn't be doing that, now you have Cassandra to think of," she choked out between moans.
"I'm actually not thinking of her at all, only you," he said, as his hands started to roam to her breasts. "But tell me, would you honestly be happy if I settled down and I couldn't do this anymore?" he asked as his fingers reached down her nightgown and pinched her nipple.
Arching her back and she gasped out, "No."
"Do you wish me to explore every inch of your body, inside and out for all the following days?" he questioned, turning her back to face him. Through her sheer gown, he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked with ferocity. When she moaned a yes, and continued, "Do you want me to love and make love to you?"
"Yes," she cried out, ecstasy building.
Each answer she gave made his heart beat harder. Was there a chance that Miranda, who could have any man, had feelings for him? "Can you possibly think I'd enjoy doing this…" he said, using his other hand to slide up her leg and stroke the wetness pooling between her legs, "with Cassandra more than you?"
Caught between the pleasure and pain, she weakly said, "Maybe."
Feeling his doubt dissolve, he raised her chin with his finger to look her in the eyes. "You may not be aware, Miss Miranda Bailey, but I have been mad for you since our first introduction."
Somewhat dazed by his revelation, she asked, "What about Cassandra? Fran said you both enjoyed each other."
"We do," he answered matter-of-factly. When she looked down, he raised her chin again. "As friends, my dear. It's you that I love. I just never thought you could possibly reciprocate my feelings."
Through her drying tears, a massive smile filled her face. She beamed up at him as his words sank in. Then with a serious look, she said, "I don't understand how you could think you're unworthy of my love. If anyone is unworthy, it's certainly me: closeted away with you while flirting with Eliot…I'm so sorry if I hurt you. I've been such a fool, I didn't realize until I thought it was too late that I love you too," she explained. "I promise to make it up to you."
Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, "It's really not necessary, however, if you insist, I can think of a few ways…" His hands started to trace their way up her leg again, but she brushed them aside and straddled him.
"I'm supposed to make it up to you, remember?" she taunted, arching her brows warningly. Unbuttoning his shirt, she kissed a trail between his taut muscles. Then flicking her tongue out, she continued tracing the lines defining his pectorals as her hands undid his breeches. His erection burst out in all its aroused glory. Miranda paused to stare at it as wonder filled her face. Bending her head down, she ran her tongue along its length.
Pleasure like Benjamin had never felt shot through him and he couldn't contain a moan. Running his fingers through her chestnut locks, he managed to beg, "Please tell me it will be a short engagement. I don't think I can wait to be inside you."
Her head lifted and she caught his eyes, "Is that your way of proposing to me, Benjamin Warren?"
"Yes, dammit, don't stop!"
Tilting her head to one side, thoughtfully, she mused, "Well you'll have to do better than that. What kind of proposal story would that be for the children to hear?"
Sighing, he took her face in his hands and earnestly said, "I promise to give you the most romantic of proposals, but please don't stop."
Smiling wickedly, she poised her mouth back over his throbbing manhood and sweetly teased, "Since we are to be married, and my answer is 'yes,' by the way, and since the engagement will be quite short, there's really no need to wait," her breathing was creating complete havoc as it whispered over his sensitive tip. "You could take me now."
He ached to be inside of her and he had no doubt she was wet with arousal too. However, as much as his body protested, he said, "You have no idea how difficult it is for me not to ravish you right here, right now, but when I fully make you mine, I want it to be on our wedding night."
With a sigh, Miranda conceded, "I suppose the wait will make it all the sweeter." Eying his engorged manhood, she said, demurely, "Although you have waited long enough." She kissed the tip of his cock and explored more with her tongue. Sucking Finally, she kissed his tip again, and took him in her mouth as her hand stroked the length she couldn't fit. Unable to hold off any more, Benjamin came in her mouth once, and then a second time as she sucked every last drop out.
"My dear, sweet Miranda, you are beyond amazing," he said reaching for her. She crawled up and lay next to him with a satisfied smile.
"I believe the same could be said about you." Kissing, they wrapped their arms tightly around each other.
