Hearth || 002
He’s quiet during dinner-but the servant’s dining room is buzzing with activity and rumors about the dance that night, so Benjy’s silence goes unnoticed.
Or at least, he thinks it does.
“You know, I can’t remember a meal where you didn’t have something to say, Mr. Fenwick.” Emmeline says lightly, addressing him formally. As Cass’s personal valet he was one of the servants with higher social standing. Those who had been there a while and remembered his mother (and him as a boy) slipped occasionally, calling him Benjy and then correcting themselves, but Emmeline had only been here for two years. The past few months, she’s been paying Benjy even more attention; he has a sneaking suspicion she was hoping that Benjy would choose a wife around the time that Cassiel did. Marrying him would definitely be a step up for Emmeline-and more than likely the soon to be lady of the house would secure a position for her husband’s valet’s wife.
Benjy doesn’t have the patience for her, not right now, not when Cass is still the only thing he can taste.
“Terribly sorry to disappoint.” Is all Benjy says, standing and moving to the side so Em could start to clear his place. Typically he helped, but he wasn’t in the mood.
“Are you helping set up for tonight?” Em says, seemingly un-phased by Benjy’s curtness. He doesn’t want to talk to her-he doesn’t want to even think right now, especially regarding the dance where Cass is going to select his replacement.
No. Where he will select his wife. Who will be what Cass deserves. Benjy swallows hard-Cassiel must have been poisoned by him-the sickness he wasn’t strong enough to fight had spread to his best friend. He is...Benjy wants to vomit when the realization hits him.
He is going to have to resign. Maybe not tonight, but, soon. Probably before the wedding. For the betterment of them all. He is poisoning Cass against his duty, against his birthright-and Benjy has to stop it.
“Master Cassiel needs me to attend to him.” Benjy says stiffly. Emmeline nods, a small laugh escaping her.
“He’d be completely lost without you, would he not?”
Benjy doesn’t grace this with a response, nodding once generally to the room and starting off down the hall towards Cass’s chambers. The closer he gets to the door, the harder his heart beats. Despite himself, despite how horrible it was, Benjy can’t get their kiss out of his mind. The ghost of Cass’s embrace lingers on him, tightening around him as Benjy opens the door. It’s still empty, per their routine. Cassiel doesn’t like people who aren’t Benjy in his room, so, when dinner is almost over, Benjy comes in and starts the fire, turns down the sheets, and waits.
He feels like he’s moving through wax, his breath gone when he sees the spot that Cass had kissed him, the memory of hours ago shooting through him like lightning. Sure, he is sick, and sure, he will have to leave, but it was all almost worth it. For all the times Benjy had been kissed, none of the three women had sent sparks through him like Cass had. None of them had made him felt precious like Cass had. Like he was worth something. Like he was someone. It was dangerous, that feeling. And all the more dangerous when Cass was the cause.
After a life of caution, of doing what he needed to do to survive, Benjy feels part of him pulled to danger. If he already has to leave...
Benjy shakes himself and goes to the hearth, getting down on his knees like he has thousands of times before. He strikes the iron and when it lights, stares at the flame, not moving away even when he hears Cass’s chamber door open. Benjy can’t bring himself to look up, not yet. Benjy swallows hard, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
When he turns, the heat in the room isn’t from the fire. Benjy can’t bring himself to look directly in Cass’s eyes-he doesn’t trust himself to not do something utterly foolish. He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t jest-just swallows hard again and prays that he’s not physically as flushed as he feels he is. Benjy’s jaw twitches and his voice is hollow when he finally speaks.
“Good evening, sir.”
@cassielavery








