Night and day, the memory of his Lady in Silver plagues him. They guide each stroke of his paintbrush against canvas, each flick of his wrist as he takes charcoal to thick paper. But even still, the woman on the page remains faceless — her white mask hiding her features, making his never ending search damn near fruitless. For years he sought her out, losing himself in the arms of whores, never quite satisfied. He’d had no qualms with being a rake; quite enjoyed it, once upon a time … but the night of his mother’s masquerade ball had changed him, for better or for worse. ( For worse, he believes, for he had allowed his Lady in Silver to slip through his fingers, vanishing in the night, never to be seen again. )
Life isn’t all bad, though. He’s found himself drawn to a Miss Sophie Baek, a new addition to his mother’s house staff. A lovely young woman, beautiful, yet lowborn. Benedict may not be the firstborn son of the Bridgerton family, but his name carries weight, and marrying a woman of no nobility … the Ton would certainly give him hell for it.
And how could he ever hope to love her when another had already captured his heart?
“ Miss Baek, ” Benedict nods in greeting, his signature crooked smile tugging at his lips. He stands in the room with his hands clasped behind his back, careful not to reach for her, even as she stumbles. “ I … meant to inquire about your time here. I trust my wonderfully overbearing mother is treating you well? ” But that isn’t why he’s here, why he’s sought her out. She’s been avoiding him, and he means to discover the reason.
A shift of his weight from foot to foot, Benedict unclasping his hands. His left arm crosses over his chest, taking his right elbow in hand as he cups his chin and purses his lips — ever the artist, ever the thinker. “ Do you mind if I ask you … Have I … offended you … in some way? ”