It was late. You know that. You’ve been tossing and turning for the last hour. The sound of crickets and other nocturnal animals kept you company in the darkness. Your eyes had been open and adjusted to the dark long enough that you could make out the beautiful ceiling and well-decorated room.
Giving up on sleep, you sighed loudly and got out of bed, pulling on a robe to cover your nightgown. You usually had no trouble sleeping over at the Bridgertons’ when your family was away. You had rather preferred to be in a house full with people whom you thought as family than an empty house with servants and lady’s maid as company, hence, the Bridgertons’. Alas, sleep eluded you that night and after enough tossing on the large bed, you light up a candle, opened the door slowly, and walked down the long hallway. You thought perhaps a breath of fresh air outside by the swings could probably chase the anxiety away. Perhaps Eloise would be there; God knows she loved to have a smoke or two in the middle of the night.
But as you walked down the hallway heading to the stairs, the door to one of the rooms was slightly ajar and light escaped and spilled out. Curiosity got the best of you and you quietly tip-toed and peek in.
There sat Benedict in front of a wooden easel by the window. The light in the room was enough to capture his rugged appearance, disheveled but handsome nonetheless. His collar was open, his hair slightly tousled; he had probably run his hand through it a couple of times for it to look that way. He looked completely at ease with a glass of wine in his hand, his attention completely focused on the paper, or so you thought.
“You could come in, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice a little too loud against the silence of the sleeping house.
Ashamed that you got caught snooping, you walked into the room with your head down, your cheeks ablaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“No,” Benedict chuckled, cutting you off. “You’re not disturbing me. Couldn’t sleep, could you?” he asked, finally setting his eyes on you, putting something down onto the easel.
“No.” You walked to the sofa across from Benedict, setting the candle on the table in front of you. “I really didn’t mean to disturb you while you’re drawing.”
“Stop. You’re not,” he gave you a warm smile. His nodded slightly to the sofa. “Since you’re here, you might as well sit and stay still.” Benedict began resuming his drawing.
You were confused. If he was to draw you, shouldn’t he changed to a new piece of paper? Regardless you stayed put. From time to time Benedict’s eyes travelled from the paper in front of him to you. You felt rather exposed, sitting with a man in your nightgown, in a room, unchaperoned. But this is Benedict. You have known him since before your debut. You’ve never thought of him as a potential husband. Partly because he had declared more than once that he was not looking or interested in marriage.
A few minutes passed as you two sat in silence. Finally, not withstanding the quiet and his gaze on you, you sat straighter and sighed rather loudly.
“Right! I’m sure its done by now?”
You got up from the sofa.
“Good god no, not yet, please don’t,” he begged as you made your way to his side.
“You had plenty of time, Benedict,” you said, even though it had just been mere minutes. A small laugh escaped your lips as you stood behind him. And then your eyes fell onto the beautiful drawing he had made. The details of it says that he had been working on it for a while. It was a sketch portrait of you, in your favorite dress; the white one with the light floral embellishment by the hems. The dress that you wore at your debut two years ago.
“How-,” you started. You couldn’t find the right words to utter your disbelief. “I believe I wore that 2 years ago! How could you remember?”
Benedict was still sitting down on his bench so you two were eye to eye. His piercing eyes forced yours to meet his, pulling your gaze away from the portrait. You had a silly huge grin on your face and tears pooling in your eyes. You couldn’t believe someone would remember such intricate details about you from 2 years ago. Being on the marriage mart this long tend to make you feel invisible. And as you look into those beautiful almond-shaped eyes looking at you adoringly, you saw it. You were far from invisible to him.
His charcoal-stained hand found yours as his eyes held your gaze, trying to gauge if this was what you wanted. When he found no resistance, he wrapped his big hand around yours, gently, but firm.
“It took me a while,” he started, his voice soft. “I think I know now why I was never interested in anyone before.”
You took in a breath, not exactly sure what was happening.
“I started drawing this since you came to stay with us a couple of days ago. And for the life of me, I could not remember who it was or where this memory was from, but I just couldn’t stop drawing.”
His other hand slowly made its way to your face, moving his soft fingers across your cheek.
“But when you sat there, I could finally put a face to this portrait. It’s you.”
His fingers continued to caress your cheeks, making its way to your hair, and slid down behind your ear, tucking your hair back.
“It’s always been you,” a faint whisper escaped his lips. Had you not been standing in front of him, so close that you could almost feel his breath on you, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.
Your heart was thumping in your chest, your eyes unable to blink, scared that you might lose this moment.
Benedict slowly interlace your fingers with his. With the other hand, he had placed them strategically behind your head and you could feel him pulling you closer to him. You couldn’t believe what was happening. 2 years with not one proposal tempting enough for you to accept and now this. Perhaps this was what you were waiting for all along; a man mad enough for you to sketch you out from an old memory he had remember of you, albeit subconsciously.
You felt as if your lips was glued shut, but as his lips found yours, it awoke to the sensation. Your free hand moved up to his beautiful face, holding it in place as he deepen the kiss.
It felt natural and right to be there, held by him, as he covered your face with soft kisses. You let out a heavenly sigh as he pulled you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his arms moved to wrap around you, holding you to him. “Marry me,” he said, his lips moving on your neck.
Not sure if you had heard it right, you pulled back so you could look at him. “What did you say?”
He smirked, the kind of smirk that says he knew you had heard it, but wanted him to repeat it anyway.
“I said. Marry me.” His steady gaze held yours, his face perfectly serious with a hint of playfulness, as if challenging you to ask him to repeat again.
Your smile was big enough that you felt your cheeks hurt.
As you lean back in to seal his lips with yours, Benedict tighten his arms around you, thinking it was the best ‘yes’ he could ever ask for.
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