Hello,

So, I really didn't think that the next update would take so long but as I said before I suffer from lazy writer-ites. That and I have been on holiday, been sick a few times, started a new story, which is stupid because I have too many WIPS. Also, I was a wee bit stumped as where to go from here, I have had a writers blockish thing where writing feels like a chore now if that makes sense but that is because my job is sucking the soul out of me. There is a little bit of Polin in this, I still want to write a Polin fic but by God, someone slap me because I really need to stop starting new stories. Also should write shorter chapters so I can work on other stuff.

I made up a street in London, please go with it. I do not have the time, well I do but I am lazy, to look up stuff and as always this is not historically accurate nor acceptable and is written with strange grammar. There will be another time jump in the future but I don't know when. I am thinking of ending this at chapter 25, which means we have 8 more to go. Hopefully, I will finish writing this fic for the end of Summer 2023.

Wishing ALL OF YOU lovely people who comment and follow the story a Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year. May all your wishes come true in 2023.

So take a look at me now, oh there's just an empty space
And there's nothin' left here to remind me
Just the memory of your face
Ooh, take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space
And you coming back to me is against the odds

It's the chance I've gotta take

Against All Odds - Phill Collins

He couldn't get her out of his mind the next couple of days, he couldn't stop thinking about how nice it had been to see her again, up close, and not hidden away somewhere metres away in a carriage, on the occasions when she walked home from his presence unsuspectingly with her head bowed down slightly, looking down, lost in thoughts. He wondered then if she was thinking about him and if she missed him as much as Benedict missed her.

It was surreal seeing her yesterday. It was wonderful and awful at the same time; he had let her walk away.. again, and the fact troubled him. Benedict turned over once more in his bed which was in his bedroom, and in which Eleanor was missing, since they no longer slept together now, not that they had done so often.

He had come home late after meeting Alina after once again filling up on brandy. He had no desire to go to a gentleman's club today; he could no longer listen to the superficial conversations of the l'ordre établi, the establishment. Then person a had taken over another factory, then person B had bragged about the fact that "he had made a mega-profit in his" and that "production had been increased by 20%" Benedict wondered how much the workers got out of that, probably nothing at all, and under what conditions his employees worked which he suspected were less than great.

His feet had dragged him to his childhood home, he was not sure why, something moved him to move into familiar surroundings now. His mother was not at home, nor was his younger sister, which was fine by him, at this moment all needed was solitude. Benedict settled himself in the drawing room and ordered the butler to fetch the brandy and made himself comfortable after the butler gave him his drink. He was enjoying himself, enjoying the solitude until he heard voices he recognized.

"Stop saying you miss your wife, or I will make you stop".

"but Why? I am not lying. I do miss my wife... It feels like ages since I have seen her".

"Colin, it has been five hours since she has left. Penelope is only away for two days; you seem to forget that Mara (writers note: shameless reference to my fic 'Last Chance') went with h and I am also sans my spouse this weekend, but you don't see me whining about missing her".

"Of course, you don't as you have a cold, barren heart. Poor Mara."

"I do not and there is no poor Mara. She is quite content, and I love her very much, thank you".

"Well, that's good but I am not whining! I genuinely miss Penelope."

"For the love of God, just shut up, Colin".

The door opened and Anthony and Colin Bridgerton walked in. On seeing Benedict, both were dumbfounded for a little while and looked at each other fleetingly.

"Aaah. My brethren" Benedict said and raised his glass. "Come join me, the more the merrier," he added.

"Benedict, I did not expect you here..." said Anthony as he sat down in the chaise lounge opposite and Colin in the one next to Benedict

"Neither did I you. What is this I hear? Penelope and Mara both away this weekend. Together?" asked Benedict, his interest piqued. Colin started shifting uncomfortably.

"Well. Ehm.. Mara invited her... For a get together at Aubrey Hall. Mother is there too... and Eloise, Daphne too... "and he ended sentence with it a doubtful look at Anthony to which the latter sighed and spoke.

"Benedict, you know Mara and Eleanor don't get along".

This was true. Mara did not like Eleanor and vice versa. He knew Mara was fond of him and vice versa. Benedict genuinely liked his sister-in-law but between her and Eleanor there had never been a good rapport at all but especially since a dinner a few months back.

Mara had asked Benedict if he still painted often. Benedict had replied that it was on the back burner, that he lacked inspiration lately to which Eleanor hit a comment that went down the wrong way with Mara.

"Having inspiration is one thing. Having talent is another and I think it might be lacking in that, Benedict dear," she had stated to which Benedict was momentarily unsure what to say and neither was Anthony.

"Is that so? And what pray tell gives you the qualifications to discern talent, Eleanor? Do you work as a curator at the Museum of London perhaps?", Mara had replied in a stern manner and it had Eleanor, who usually did have her say.

"Well no... but I-", Eleanor sputtered, clearly not used to be spoken to this way.

"Then given that you do have the qualifications, I wouldn't say anything about whether Benedict has talent or not", Mara had replied sweetly, interrupting Eleanor. The rest of the evening had gone wearily with an inwardly seething Eleanor who said little more.

"So, they excluded Eleanor from this 'get together 'at Aubrey Hall?", Benedict concluded in a slightly accusing tone. He quite understood that Eleanor was not best friends with Mara but it was not very nice to invite everyone but her, he had to admit.

"Sort of" admitted Anthony reluctantly, feeling a bit uncomfortable about it all.

Benedict thought about it for a bit more and then just thought it was better to leave the subject, considering Eleanor and Charlotte would leave tomorrow to visit Richard at his wife's estate in Scotland and couldn't attend, even if Mara had requested their presence.

"Well, there is always next time", he mused and then greedily sipped from his drink,

causing him to cough as his throat protested.

"Are you OK?", Colin asked worriedly to which Benedict coughingly said yes, not noticing until the last moment that Anthony and Colin were again exchanging glances with each other as if urging each other to be the first to say something. Anthony just thought he should be first.

"All good" Benedict replied although he still felt his throat prickle profusely.

"What are you doing here, Benedict?" asked Anthony finally.

"I could ask you the same thing Anthony" asked Benedict in turn.

"Be serious. Why are you at mothers and not at home?", Anthony pressed.

"What is with the interrogation? Am I not allowed to go to my parental home or something?" asked in an irritated tone before emptying his glass in his totality. Benedict wanted to reach for the decanter of brandy, but Anthony raised his hand.

"I think you had enough, Benedict," Anthony warned.

"Thank you but I'll be the judge of that, I have only had one drink so far", Benedict countered

"Right. Your second glass today and how many did you drink yesterday and the day before Benedict?".

Benedict didn't answer uncertain of what he should say... this

"I hear you are at Will's gentleman's club several times a week", the eldest Bridgerton continued.

"And who is your source, Will, himself? That disappoints me to be honest. A proprietor should never reveal the secrets of his visitors," Benedict remarked wryly.

"Will is a friend of mine of the family which means he is yours as well, by the way. He has shared concerns with me about you. You drink too much and pick fights when you're there. . He doesn't want to deny you permanent access yet, but you don't make things easy for him," Colin said.

It was true. The past few times had ended in an altercation that would have become almost physical if Will had not intervened. Benedict was embarrassed now that he thought about his actions and decided that the next time he was there; Will should get a heartfelt apology.

"I shall apologise to Will" Benedict stated sincerely.

"Well, now that is settled, please Anthony. If you would be so kind" and he reached out the glass to him.

His eldest brother shook his head, grabbed the bottle, and poured some of the liquid in Benedict's glass, to his relief. Benedict thought that was the end of things until Anthony resumed speaking once more.

"WE are not done discussing this matter", Anthony warned.

Benedict rolled his eyes in exasperation and dropped back into his armchair.

"Oh goody," Benedict exclaimed sighing.

"Just what I'm in the mood for; a lecture, I was praising myself lucky I had escaped the one Mother was going to undoubtedly give me but good thing you are going to provide me with one. For God's sake Anthony, if you intent to be a killjoy tonight then I'm leaving, you hear? I cannot bear you-"

Anthony interrupted him with words that struck like a blow to his head.

"I know you haven't forgotten her."

The words had come out calmly, but the effect was devastating on Benedict. His mouth snapped shut with a snap and he could only stare at Anthony in shock.

"But drinking yourself to a stupor every day is not going to help you any further," Anthony said calmly.

"Sorry, what? Forgotten who?" exclaimed Colin bewilderedly, at this point looking confusedly at Benedict and then at Anthony.

"What exactly am I missing here?", Colin added.

Benedict should have felt betrayed since Anthony had just openly revealed one of his deepest secrets but all he felt was regret and sadness. Still, he made a reprimanding remark, weakly.

"That was confidential information, Anthony", he said with gritted teeth.

"I am aware, sorry but I could hardly ask Colin to leave, and I don't see you very often lately, even though I asked you several times to come to Aubrey Hall to have a chat, and you refused so I had to take my chance now".

"Okay, now will one of you tell me what on earth is going on here?", Colin asked in aggravation.

Benedict glanced at Anthony before he took a deep breath and started telling and Colin listened breathlessly, taking it all in.

"So, she was the one that P..., Whistledown wrote about? The lady you took to the restaurant with you?", Colin asked.

"Yes," Benedict said dejectedly.

"And you loved this girl..?", Colin followed up with.

Benedict didn't answer but the message was clear to Colin.

"Why didn't you marry her then? You and she could have eloped to Gretna Green. Sure it would have been a scandal but that's just it with scandals, they pass and people forget", Colin argued. Benedict pondered for a while before he answered the question. Why did he let her go? The woman he had loved and.. still loved.

"I should have. I don't get either why I didn't act on things but before I knew it, me and Eleanor had been caught and forced to marry and everything was over. There isn't a day... when I don't think... If only I had If only I had been honest, taken the right steps but I didn't and when I did want to.. It was too late.."

Benedict remained silent for a moment but, as if he felt compelled, he started talking and talking as if something inside him was forcing him to speak.

"I saw her yesterday," he confessed at the end of his little speech.

"You did? Where?", Anthony wanted to know.

"At the fair.. Purely a coincidence but it was... so nice to see her up close and it felt like nothing had changed between us.".

"Benedict. She's a married woman. And you are also married might I remind you. I truly hope nothing inappropriate has happened between you two" Anthony clipped.

"Nothing did! We just talked and even then it's not that easy to switch off your feelings. I don't think I have to tell either of you that or do I?" and he looked briefly at both his brothers on this.

Both Anthony and Colin remained silent after hearing these words.

"You have no right to judge me. So, if I want to drink, let me".

Anthony sighed, shaking his head.

"You know we are concerned about you because we care. I see you slipping, and I don't like it. Promise me then that you will try to drink a bit less and be at home a bit more... Not because of Eleanor but because of Charlotte".

Benedict pondered for a moment and then nodded.

"I'll try" he said, promising improvement. "I'll try", he repeated somewhat lost in his thoughts.

"This has been quite an evening so far" Colin remarked. ".

"Now I miss Penelope even more to be honest "

"SHUT UP, Colin!" Anthony and Benedict yelled simultaneously.

Two weeks later

That blasted Josephine. It was the second time Alina had to go to a fitting by Madame Delacroix in Josephine's place because the latter mentioned didn't show up to work. Madame Delacroix tolerated her as she was a seamstress but her work ethic left much to be desired.

Alina herself refused to go to appointments because she didn't want to come near to the areas where the upper crust of London resided. And this address was quite close to Benedict's residence.

The last thing she wanted was to run into him, even though the chances were slim she had to admit. Still, she wasn't keen on seeing him and she was still dealing with the aftermath of their encounter last time.

When she had seen him she hadn't anticipated that all the feelings she had tried to diligently supress had swam back to the surface once more. It startled her and left her feeling helpless, not being able to fight them. When she was in the privacy of her home that day all she did was cry about the way they had left things. Yet she knew deep down it was the best thing for both. She knew what but why then was the feeling so awful?

That night, when Tommy had approached her and kissed her cautiously she didn't resist when he took her to her bed and made love to her, it felt like a means to an end, like a way of erasing the memory of meeting Benedict that day.

But it didn't help, all she ever did know was think about their meeting. My God. He had been charming as ever, slightly older but still handsome as ever, with kind eyes and... No, Alina. Stop this immediately, she reprimanded herself.

She buried herself in her work and had been doing the same until Genevieve walked into the sewing room.

"Alina... I must ask you to go to an appointment this afternoon".

"Oh... but I still have to finish the Carlson's dress," Alina weakly objected. She didn't really have an excuse, she was finishing the garment and both she and Genevieve knew that.

"I know but I also know that one is almost finished, and I really need you to go. I know you don't like going to fittings and such but Josephine... is absent, once more. One of these days I am going to fire her but until then, would you please take over her appointment? I will be preoccupied with Violet Bridgerton and her daughter Hyacinth" and Genevieve had stated the words, softly but carefully. Please. Do me a favour and I will never ask you to go in the future, promise".

"Alright," had Alina sighed. "I'll go."

"Fantastic" said Madame Delacroix. "What would I do without you?" Genevieve beamed before walking away with a reassured look on her face.

Alina could not say the same when she got on the carriage, something inside of her was brewing, it felt like a premonition, and she really didn't enjoy the sentiment.

The feeling became increasingly ominous as the carriage turned towards familiar sides of London, the very place she did not want to go. She was certain however that she would not run into Benedict, or that was what she tried to told herself.

The odds were too slim. Once was a coincidence, second time would surely not happen in a large city like London. Still, the Langbury's address was only two streets away from his and she was not entirely at ease.

Upon meeting the Langbury's however her mood picked up. Madame Langbury was a slightly greying lady who looked immaculate as well as her daughter Alicia. They were genuinely friendly and insisted that Alina take some refreshments to herself before she went to work. Alicia with her long brown locks and kind green eyes talked to her in full.

"Ah, you have a little boy? What's his name?" she asked curiously.

"Alphie."

"What a cute name, how old is he? Tell us more about him."

"2.5', and then Alina proceeded to talk about the mischievous things her little boy had done, making the two ladies laugh.

"Madame Delacroix told you just have moved here", Alina asked.

"Yes we did, we have been here a few months".

Lady Langbury explained that her would be running the second branch of their sawmill here. They chatted some more and asked Alina some about activities to do in London, which Alina found amusing yet endearing, since it was certain that she and the Langbury's were not in the same social circles. Still, it was nice to be taken seriously and Alina, had been glad she had gone. She didn't have many friends, in-laws perhaps but they certainly weren't girlfriends, apart from Tommy's niece.

Alina felt like an outsider at work as well when all her colleagues did was talk about the 'ton' and Alina didn't much feel like hearing these things and had no interest in hearing the Bridgerton name come up, although she couldn't help but listen in somewhere anyway, to see if there was current information about the Bridgerton's, and one in particular.

The appointment came to an end once the ladies' measurements were taken and fabrics chosen. Alina promised to have the dresses ready for the upcoming ball that mother and daughter would be attending.

Alina took the back exit and wanted to head towards the carriage until she saw it nowhere. Archie, the coachman, sometimes had the habit, if the appointment took too long, of running off, impatient as he was, to 'get errands'. Alina waited for a while and kept waiting until she found herself with, by now totally forgetting her carefree afternoon.

Damn it.

She knew there was a certain junction where carriages left in the direction of Made Delacroix's shop but then she had to be... a few streets away... exactly where she wasn't supposed to be. Alina was tired and didn't particularly feel like walking either, especially since it was quite a distance, and the weather conditions were getting worse by the second. It had already begun to drizzle, and Alina pulled her coat a little closer to her, though it brought little protection, the same was true of her thin hat, which was also not resistant.

She counted the blocks to the junction but... she seemed to have erred then or miscalculated because she did not come out at all where she was supposed to be. Taking her precautions, she had manoeuvred through the back alleys, but this had probably caused her to be lost her way. Alina walked a little dazed then back to the direction she thought she had come from. She walked in a hurry, she should undoubtedly have been back by now, the rain was getting heavier.

She was not paying attention at all and did not realise that she was seriously close to the one she was supposed to avoid but she was too lost in her thoughts to notice. She stopped somewhere and looked around her, not recognising where she was. She had only one option and that was to walk back to the front, instead of her position behind the houses. Alina hoped that at the end of this alley she could find something recognisable.

It began to rain harder, and Alina was now completely soaked and though the rain was a welcome change to what had been a sweltering summer, Alina currently wasn't enjoying it.. Where was she? And why was this street so ridiculously long as there seemed to be no end in sight. She walked on for a few paces, inwardly still disoriented so she didn't notice that a rat the size of a small loaf ran towards her, and then collided with her skirt as she approached. Startled by the encounter she creamed, causing the poor creature to quickly sprint off.

Alina decided she was going to kill Josephine herself, when she saw her next time and the coachman next.

Eleanor had gone out shopping with Charlotte no doubt buying more dresses for their daughter that Charlotte didn't need and didn't want to wear. She loved wearing her teal dress and a flowery pink one and it was hard to get her to wear anything else.

The two were usually gone for hours and Charlotte had also said something about wanting to say 'Grandma', meaning his mother-in-law so Benedict wasn't expecting them for a long time, probably returning at the end of the day.

Benedict didn't mind necessarily, though he would have preferred Charlotte to stay home. His relationship with Eleanor had become even more icy after Scotland, presumably because Richard had no doubt peppered her with what a lousy husband he was and somewhere he couldn't blame him.

Benedict had settled himself in the garden and was busy re-painting a flower arrangement, he didn't have much inspiration for anything else now and even a 'simple' flower composition felt like reaching.

He had given up after a few strokes of his brush... plus he wondered what on earth he was doing, it was far too hot to be outside painting even though he had hoped the garden would offer him some inspiration. Secondly, to his surprise, it started to rain so he carefully grabbed some of his things and brought them inside himself before setting them down somewhere in the corridor, in indifference. Perhaps he would do better next time... though Benedict doubted it.

Benedict lied down on the sofa for a while before he realised he had still left his easel outside. Instead of sending a servant to fetch it, a new one had recently broken a few pots of precious paint, he just went out himself.

Benedict grabbed the easel and carried the thing inside. He was about to close the door until he heard a scream. A female voice and it had stopped him in his tracks. Then Benedict heard some expressions of displeasure which intrigued him even more and an inner mumbling, well it sounded more like swearing.

However, should it be a lady in distress Benedict could not stand idle and do nothing. Benedict quickly grabbed the key to the gate and walked towards it with hurried trend... Then he opened the door and first looked to the left, there was nothing to see there and then quickly looked to the right..

It couldn't... He had to be dreaming. A couple of metres away she stood then, there... already equally surprised to see him.

"Alina?" asked Benedict, not entirely reassured that his mind had not deserted him. She gasped by hearing her name and he knew then; no this was real...

She turned and started running away. "Alina. Stop," he shouted but she walked on.

"Stop now!" he demanded but she paid him no mind and continued.

Okay then. Those who won't listen. It had taken him a few moments to reach her and grab her arm so that he could turn it to face her.

"Are you mad? Let go," she hissed.

"No, do you mind telling me why you are running away in the first please? So silly. dear God Woman, you are completely drenched"" he stated with concern upon examining her

"I am not", she lied sensing full known she was soaked from head to everyone..

"A blind man can see that you are drenched, Alina. You should change your clothes; I don't think it's beneficial for your health for you to walk around like this any longer".

"I will do that when I get home and let.. let go of my arm. Someone might see".

Benedict retracted reluctantly but remained close.

"Why are you here anyway?"

She said nothing, stubborn as she was and also .. embarrassed if she were honest..

"Silence.. Alright. Let me then guess.. You are an awful long way of Madame Delacroix's.. She made you to go an appointment, they happened to live by and because you had a fear of running into me so instead of taking the best route back, you ended up taking the worst one.. which made you run into me even though you didn't want to".

He couldn't help it but started laughing. Ugh, the man could be insufferable.

"This is not funny!" she exclaimed with dismay in her voice.

"It kind of is actually," Benedict smiled and the two locked eyes for a second which was a horrible idea, for Alina at least, as it made her feel all sorts of things she shouldn't be feeling.

"Well need you are here anyway, you better come to my place to dry off ", Benedict suggested.

"That will not be necessary, thank you. I'm just trying to go back go to Hills Crossing".

"It is necessary.. you are soaked and should change." Benedict said determinedly.

"And if you have to go to Hills Crossing then you are going the wrong way", Benedict remarked, pointing back in the direction they had come today. He had to do his best not to smile at the sight of her astonished face. She resolutely turned again to go back to the direction they had come from. Benedict followed her to her dismay.

"I don't need your help and will find my way back," she stated irritated.

"Oh yes, clearly you are doing a great job at that at present" stated Benedict. She gave him a menacing look but didn't respond.

"Alina, don't be foolish. Just.. come with me', he pleaded.

"That would be an extraordinary bad idea so I'd rather not. I will be alright. Just go before someone sees us", she urged weakly.

"Alina, if you think I am going to let you go back like this in this condition then you are sorely mistaken. Come inside with me and warm up. Let's get you out of that dress-". He didn't finish his train of thought as he was taken back by her glaring look.

"That is not what I meant, and you know it. Please don't be so stubborn," Benedict pleaded to which Alina shook her head.

"How can you even suggest this? What will your wife think!," Alina asked exasperated

"She is not at home, and I don't expect her back for a long time", Benedict replied.

"How convenient but the answer is still no...", Alina said upon uttering the sentence she suddenly started shivering violently.

"Christ Almighty, Alina. Do you want to catch pneumonia or something?" sighed Benedict.

"I told you... I ... am f... " but she couldn't finish her train of thought as she as she suddenly had to sneeze, several times.

"Alright; that's it. You are coming in with me and that's final".

The cup of tea had done her well. She now sat sipping this carefully, in Benedict's study and was secretly glad, glad that she had followed Benedict's advice. Well, she didn't really have a choice, he had grabbed her arm and practically dragged her to his house.

He had then, immediately summoned his housekeeper to go get dry clothes and take Alina with him. Mrs Tulls had given her a puzzled look but otherwise made no mention of what she was thinking. Not even when they were alone, she had merely followed orders, going as quickly as possible to get a dress that happened to be already made, probably one from the shop window and all that went with it. She had helped Alina before that, well then to the last pieces because Alina was not going to be stark naked in front of a woman she did not know and had drawn a bath for her. The bath was lovely, not too hot and not too cold and smelt of lavender, at least she thought so. By the time she had finished bathing, Mrs Tulls had returned with a pastel blue dress and underwear.

The dress was not something she normally wore, of course. She had insisted on wearing a maid's dress but there were none in her size and Benedict insisted on getting a new one, much to her reluctance.

She hated to admit it but the dress looked good on her and was comfortable, its fabric light and airy draped around her body. Her own clothes were currently being washed had Mrs Tulls and would soon be hung up to dry, she was informed. So she had to wait... and while she waited her mind drifted off and she thought for a moment, just a moment, what it would be like to live here, with him. What it would have been like if she had been married to him...

This room she was in was a mix between library and studio. On the walls hung some paintings of his daughter among others but also one that seemed to depict his family from a few years back. She knew, for instance, through the latest gossip journalist that the youngest male scion Bridgerton Gregory was now studying but in the painting he was depicted as a boy of 13 a 14.

The entire Bridgerton clan was glibly painted and how beautiful and ... carefree. Benedict had told her that he wanted to be a painter but it seemed he had lost inspiration recently, there was a wastebasket full of crumpled pieces of paper and half-finished canvas placed on the easel with a big 'cross' through it.

Benedict's studio overlooked the garden and the gate through which Alina had just reluctantly passed. She looked further around the room and spotted the clock and saw that it was already almost 4 o'clock, her appointment had been at two and she realised she should have been back at work long ago.

Madame Delacroix had to wonder. Oh God, she only hoped she had not inquired of Tommy, he would then go looking for her in the neighbourhood where she was now, perhaps ringing everywhere.

She had to leave and got up and set the cup of tea down on the expensive-looking, marble table. She was just about to walk to the door when Benedict walked in, taking in her curiously before standing still, a few metres away from her. He crossed his arms and looked at her casually, though somewhere he looked hurt.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

" Madame Delacroix will wonder where..."

"I have already sent her a message" he interrupted her, she looked up at him startled and he knew exactly what she was thinking at that moment.

"I have asked her for her discretion of course and we both aware that she is never indiscrete and can be trusted."

This reassured her a little, but she still looked uncomfortable.

"My clothes?" she asked embarrassed.

"Are drying now," Mrs Tulls told me. Will take a while.".

"Oh", she merely said. "I can also pick them up later and then return this dress" she suggested.

Benedict looked hurt at this suggestion.

"You can also keep the dress if you want", he said.

"I don't think that's a good plan" she replied cautiously.

"Why not?" wanted to know Benedict, his tone sharp.

"Tommy... .. My husband might wonder where I got the dress from".

"Then you could tell him it was a gift from Madame Delacroix... for all your arduous work". This seemed logical but wasn't.

"I don't know if he would believe that".

"Your husband wouldn't believe you? Hhm... that says a lot" Benedict said somewhat sharply, and more accusingly than he would have liked but he felt resentment he shouldn't have felt perhaps, resentment that she was talking to her about her husband. It made no sense of course but it stung.

"What do you mean by that?" she then asked him irritably.

"Nothing," he said realising his mistakes. "Never mind."

"My husband trusts me," she said raising her voice a little.

"If you say so," he stated in turn, perhaps somewhat incredulously.

"Stop it", she warned him.

"Stop what?" he asked innocently. Oh, he was aware of what he was doing but pretended not to

"Questioning my relationship, it's none of your business", she admonished.

"I meant nothing by it" he lied.

"Yes you did. And who are you to question my marriage...". Does your wife know I am here for instance?".

"Of course not, I told you she's not at home and-".

"You are a hypocrite Mr Bridgerton".

The accusation didn't bother him much, she was right, he knew that but using his full name, however, did.

"Will you stop calling me that? You did that last time and I find it horribly irritating" exclaimed Benedict, suddenly halting, leaving her with no other option but to turn to him.

"Why? It's your name right?" she asked in an annoyed fashion.

"I am fully aware but it's Benedict to you. Not Mr Bridgerton. We've been through too much to go back to this kind of nonsense.".

"Nonsense? I'm just trying to be polite. It's the way it should be".

"Oh well, thank you but you don't have to. Call me Benedict please" he said as he walked towards her side.

"So, what it is it? Benedict or Mr. Bridgerton?," he wanted to know.

"I have a better suggestion. What about Mr. Insufferable? Or Mr. Infuriating?," she stated sarcastically to which Benedict had to chuckle and for a moment, just a moment, it was like old times again between them. She who was not afraid to put him in his place and he who, pushed her buttons, in a familiar way.

They were very close now... she noticed last minute, the lack of distance made her breath stop slightly and unintentionally her heart had started beating harder. They just stood there, for a little while, in silence.

"May I ask something?", Benedict asked, looking at her deeply. He could see she was hesitant as she did not answer right away.

"Please answer me... I need to know. I could swear I saw you some time back... in my street. I felt I was being watched but when I looked in the direction I was being watched from, I saw someone, who looked pretty much like you disappear behind the wall. Was that you?".

She blushed almost immediately after he uttered the last words and turned her head towards the floor.

"So, it was you..." he concluded softly

"Why were you there?" She shook her head, and he could tell she was getting emotional.

"It was after my ... .. it was after a sad period in my life. I don't know why either but at one point I was in your street," she said her head still downcast.

"I shouldn't have come that day. I'm sorry".

"Don't be please. I was happy to see you that da ". He reached gently forward with his index finger and slowly raised her chin upwards, making her face him.

"I shouldn't say this but I have to.. You must know.. I still love you, Alina and I always will. Please tell me I am not the only one here.", he confessed.

She stepped back for a moment and with that he lost contact with her skin and it was devastating for him, at that moment it felt like his heart broke into shards.

"I have to go" she stated simply, breaking his heart in the process but not knowing hers was breaking at the same time too.

"Thank you for taking care of me. I will return the dress as soon as I get my clothes. If you could please send it to Madame Delacroix I would be grateful".

"Consider it done" Benedict promised solemnly.

"Bye then" she said but her feet would not go, for a while until Alina forced them to move and she moved slowly, turning around slowly before taking a few tentative steps and then stopping abruptly, as if something inside her forced her to stop and speak the truth.

"For what it is worth. I still love you too," she had said, softly.

"What?" she heard him say behind her and dread filled her instantly on realising what she had just uttered.

"I said have a nice day" she lied to which he scoffed.

She wanted to walk on, no run, but his voice roared through the room.

"Oh, I really didn't think so. Stay where you are... or better yet. Turn around. NOW". She did with buckling knees and a premonition that something would happen that they would both regret.

"You were always a pretty bad liar, Alina do you know that? " 'I said have a nice day' Really?" he smiled.

"I heard what you said" he stated now standing too close to her once more and as he stood there he nodded.

"I heard .. WHAT YOU SAID" he repeated before pulling her towards him and crushing his lips on hers.