Chapter 12. The Truth

The following week was one of the worst in Benedict"s life.

His agreement to marry Emily Ashcroft saved his family"s reputation from scandal, so Lilibeth poured all her energy into wedding preparations, even before Benedict had actually proposed to the woman in question. The promise of a proposal also silenced Lady Hawthorne, at least for now. However, she became a frequent guest at the Blackmoor Manor, urging Mrs. Blackmoor to ensure her son proposed as soon as possible and didn"t postpone it any longer.

Benedict, however, rarely left his room these days. Especially after he went to Victor"s house, only to discover that other people had already moved in. Victor was gone once more. This time, without a promise of coming back. The realization shattered Benedict"s heart, and from that day forward, he spent all his time in bed with the curtains drawn shut.

He felt ill, although there was nothing wrong with him. John, the valet, came in once a day with a food tray that remained untouched on the table until he returned the following day.

One evening after dinner, Benedict heard a knock on the door. He remained silent, as he had stopped responding to John altogether. The valet came in and out as he pleased, like a ghost, usually just knocking once before entering. But not this time. Benedict heard another knock.

"Yes," he said, his voice hoarse after so many days spent in silence.

The door creaked open, and Percy came in. He was already in his pajamas, holding a steaming cup in his hand. "Hello," he said, closing the door behind him. "May I come in?"

He already had, but Benedict still nodded. He glanced at his brother in the yellow light of the oil lamp. Percy didn"t look like he had come to mock him, but if that wasn"t the case, Benedict had no idea why he was there.

Percy crossed the room and settled at the foot of Benedict"s bed. Taken aback, Benedict sat upright. Percy seemed…strange. Careful. Almost delicate. This was not what Benedict had expected.

They sat in silence for a good three minutes. Then, as if realizing something, Percy perked up.

"I brought you tea," he said, handing Benedict the cup.

Benedict"s eyebrows shot up. Tea? From Percy?

"Is it poisoned?" Benedict joked quietly.

Percy snorted. "No. And I didn"t make it myself. I asked Maria."

"Thanks," Benedict said, placing the cup on his blanket-covered lap. He looked up at his brother, pondering for a moment before asking as politely as possible, "Did you want something?"

Percy shrugged, the gesture almost childlike. "Just to talk. How are you holding up?"

Benedict, who had just brought the cup to his lips and taken the first sip, choked on it and started coughing violently, nearly splashing the contents all over the bed.

"How am I holding up?" Benedict repeated, placing the cup and saucer on the bedside table. "Are you all right, Perce? Don"t get me wrong, but last I checked, you seemed to hate me."

"I never hated you," Percy said with a frown. "I was—and sometimes still am—annoyed by you and your actions, yes, but that doesn"t mean I hate you."

There was that raw honesty in his voice again. For the first time in a long time, Percy"s guard was completely down. It was just Percy, his vulnerable little brother, without all the thorns and spikes.

"I"m sorry if you feel that way," Percy said, his shoulders slumping a little.

"I don"t hate you either," Benedict said truthfully. "And I"m fine, thanks for asking."

"Good." Percy dropped his gaze to his hands before saying, "So…what happened with…" He paused, hesitating. "With Miss LaFleur…Or…I mean…"

"Victor?" Benedict prompted, his heart skipping a beat. So that"s what he was here for.

"Yes."

"He left," Benedict said simply.

"For good?"

Benedict nodded.

"But you lied." There was a tinge of surprise in Percy"s voice.

"Yes," Benedict repeated. "I"m sorry, Perce. I don"t know what I was thinking. But I didn"t do it for the estate." He paused for a moment before confessing, "I just didn"t want to disappoint Grandfather Henry."

Disappoint.That was the first time he admitted it. He had convinced himself it was only to make his grandfather happy. But in reality, it wasn"t about that. Benedict was afraid of disappointing his grandfather like he had disappointed his father. Afraid that unless he fell in love with a girl, Grandfather Henry would guess that Benedict was queer and would despise him the way his father had. In hindsight, Benedict realized his plan had spectacularly backfired, leading to the very thing he had been so afraid of.

"I"m not talking about that," Percy said. "You said you weren"t involved with him. But you were."

Benedict faltered, his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

"Who told you?" he asked carefully, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. "The servants?" They could have overheard something when he and Victor were together the night they came back from the ball.

"No." Percy shook his head. Then his eyebrows went up. "Wait, the servants know?"

Benedict shrugged. "Maybe. But how—"

"How do I know?" Percy smirked. "I have eyes, brother. You never looked at anyone the way you look at Vivienne. Victor."

Benedict felt his skin flush at the insinuation.

He stared at his brother, dumbfounded. There was no disgust on Percy"s face. No contempt. And the way he was talking…It was as though it was something mundane.

Benedict was so taken aback by Percy"s reaction that he couldn"t utter a word. Percy looked at him for a couple of long moments, then said, "You could"ve told me. Could"ve told me that"s why you didn"t want to marry."

"You would"ve hated me for that," Benedict muttered, unwanted tears welling up in his throat.

"For not liking women?" Percy huffed. "Listen, I"ve always thought you were just an egotistical arse. I didn"t know you were queer." This word coming from his mouth sounded normal, like any other word. Percy narrowed his eyes. "So why did you lie to grandfather about it?"

"Because heirs to grand estates aren"t supposed to be queer, Perce," Benedict said, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Well, I didn"t hear about such rules," Percy said casually and smiled with the corner of his lips. "And I don"t think Lord Exington heard about them either."

"You know about Exington?" Benedict asked, now completely confused.

"Yes," Percy said matter-of-factly. "He used to flirt with me all the time and ceased only when I told him I was in love with Beatrice."

Benedict looked at his brother incredulously. He didn"t know how much he had missed out on while he and Percy weren"t speaking to each other.

"I think you should tell grandfather the truth, Benny," Percy continued, patting Benedict"s feet through the blanket in a clumsy gesture. Then he suddenly snorted out a laugh. "Why would you even agree to marry Miss Ashcroft? Are you completely out of your mind? You are signing yourself up to spend the rest of your life with a woman! I knew you weren"t the sharpest quill in the box, but Benny…"

His righteous anger made Benedict laugh. But then he said, serious again, "If I don"t marry her, Hawthorne's going to tell everybody about Victor and me."

"Let her. Why would you even care?"

"Because of our family"s reputation," Benedict"s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "Because I can"t do that to grandfather." Another tear fell down his cheek. "To Victor. I can"t drag him into the middle of this scandal. I don't want to hurt him."

"Listen," Percy said, pursing his lips, "our family will survive. It"s good to stir up in a little gossip broth from time to time. In fact, look at Grandfather Henry: a couple of weeks ago, I heard him going at it with Maria. He doesn"t even care."

"Maria?" Benedict"s eyes went wide. "Maria Maria? Our head of staff?"

"Yes." Percy nodded and then muttered under his breath, "So much for wandering around the house at night."

Benedict stared at his brother in utter disbelief. Their grandfather was sleeping with Maria?..

"And about not wanting to drag Victor into any of it," Percy continued, giving Benedict a knowing look, "You already did. And my guess is that you hurt him a lot more when you announced in front of him and the whole family that there was nothing going on between you two."

For a few seconds, Benedict sat unmoving. Then slowly nodded. He never expected to admit it, but Percy was right. He was surprisingly wise when it came to relationships.

What had he been thinking? There was only one person in the world who made Benedict truly happy, and he had simply let him go.

Benedict said, "Thank you, Perce."

***

The following afternoon marked the first time Benedict had left the Blackmoor Manor in a week. He was cleanly shaven and wore a three-piece suit. There was some business in the city he needed to attend to, and the carriage took him to an address he had gone to great lengths to find.

When he knocked on the door of a small house on the outskirts of the city, silence greeted him for several long minutes before he heard loud, clumsy footsteps on the other side. As the door opened, Benedict saw Charlotte, her messy hair in a bun, a cigarette between her teeth, and a long bathrobe slung over her shoulders and nightgown.

"Good afternoon," Benedict said, removing his hat.

"What are you doing here?" Charlotte asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I wanted to speak with—" He fell silent, noticing the embroidery on Charlotte"s bathrobe. "Is that my robe?"

She frowned, glancing down at what she was wearing, then shrugged. "Is it? I found it at The Clam. I nicked a lot of stuff from there before we left." She blew smoke in his face. "You can take it back if you want."

Benedict rubbed his eyes. "Keep it. Thanks."

Charlotte shrugged again. "As you wish. So, what did you want?"

"I need to speak with Victor," he said, and before Charlotte could reply, he added, "I think I might have made a huge mistake." It physically hurt him to admit that out loud.

"You sure as hell did." Charlotte pursed her lips and gave him a sidelong glance. "You should've seen him before he left. I"ve never seen him look so…devastated."

Devastated.The word made Benedict"s heart clench.

"Do you know where he is?" he asked, trying to tame the desperation in his voice.

"Yes," Charlotte said, but before Benedict"s heart could soar with excitement, she added, "He"s in France."

"France?" Benedict echoed, dumbfounded. "The country—France?"

"No, the village!" Charlotte scoffed. "Of course, the country."

"Do you have his address?"

"No. And he"s not coming back."

Benedict felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. His head spun, his legs weakened, and he lowered himself onto the front porch. Charlotte, who was so short that even with Benedict seated, she was only slightly taller than him, patted him on the back.

"You"ll be all right, Fancy Fop."

"I bought it out," he said after a pause. "For him."

"Bought out what?" Charlotte flopped down on the porch beside him.

"The cabaret," he said. "I received the papers today."

Charlotte choked on her cigarette and coughed, smoke billowing from her mouth. "You bought out The Clam?"

Benedict nodded. Charlotte looked dumbstruck.

"From the newspaper guy?"

Benedict gave her another nod.

"You must have paid a fortune. When we wanted to buy it from him, he told us he wouldn"t sell."

"I paid him triple the amount he bought it for."

Charlotte froze, her jaw slack. Then, she handed Benedict her cigarette. He accepted it and took a long drag before giving it back to her.

"What are you going to do with it?" Charlotte asked cautiously.

"Well, since I bought it for Victor, I don"t know anymore. But you can perform there again. And if you know someone who can help me manage a cabaret, let me know."

"I will," Charlotte said and then suddenly gave him a hug.

"What was that for?" Benedict asked as soon as she released him.

"Night might say that you"re just a dick who uses Victor for sex, but I don"t think so. I think you also love him."

Benedict snorted, taking a cigarette from her to take another drag. "Thank you, Charlotte."

"You"re welcome, Fancy Fop."

Benedict cocked an eyebrow. "What does that nickname even mean?"

"Nothing," she said, throwing up her hands, but there was a faint smile on her lips.

***

The worst week of Benedict's life was followed by the most peculiar one since he had to make amends for some of his past mistakes.

The day after he spoke with Charlotte, Benedict went to talk to Night, who, as it turned out, was the manager of The Shiny Clam before it was sold.

Night wasn"t pleased to see Benedict on his doorstep and almost slammed the door in his face. But Benedict wedged his foot in the doorframe, leaving Night no choice but to listen to what he had to say.

At first, Night was outraged when he heard Benedict"s proposition. It was odd to persuade a man who was obviously still in love with Victor and could very likely be one of his former lovers to work for Benedict. Benedict wasn"t thrilled about the idea either, but he didn"t know anyone else who could manage a drag cabaret. So Benedict persuaded him. He was very good at it when he really tried.

"I"ll think about it," Night said in the end. "But it"s not because I like you or want to have anything to do with you. It"s just not easy to find a job in this city these days."

That was good enough for Benedict. He wondered if Night knew Victor"s address, but when he tried to press him about it, Night shut the door in his face.

***

The next task on Benedict"s list was even more unpleasant than his conversation with Night. He had to write a letter to Lady Hawthorne, letting her know that he wasn"t going to marry Miss Ashcroft after all, as he wasn"t eager to explain that to the matchmaker in person.

He sat at his desk for at least an hour, hovering over a sheet of paper, trying to find the right words before realizing there was no good way to go about it. So he wrote:

Ms. Hawthorne,

I"m writing to inform you of some unfortunate news. I hereby declare that I won"t be proposing marriage to Miss Emily Ashcroft. I know this will disappoint you, but I truly don"t care.

If you wish to blackmail me further, please spare us both the trouble and feel free to divulge my secrets to anyone you see fit.

Not yours,

Mr. Benedict Blackmoor.

He felt an odd satisfaction as he sealed the letter and handed it to John for immediate delivery.

The next item on his agenda was talking to his mother and Grandfather Henry. The following morning, Benedict asked them to meet him in the Swan Parlor before breakfast. He was reading a book on the sofa by the window when they arrived.

Grandfather Henry looked tired and serious, while Lilibeth appeared nervous and on edge. They sat opposite Benedict, silent, waiting for him to begin.

"Thank you for coming," Benedict said, setting the book beside him. Well, he thought, it"s best to get this over with. "I called off the arrangement with Lady Hawthorne. I"m not going to marry Miss Ashcroft."

Lilibeth gasped.

Grandfather Henry frowned slightly, but there was no anger in his gaze. "And you understand that this means Percy will inherit the estate," he said evenly, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes." Benedict nodded. He never felt freer in his life.

"But what about the wedding?" Lilibeth interjected, her voice shaky. "We"ve already begun the preparations…"

"I"m glad you have," Benedict said, leaning forward in his seat. "And I think it"s time to let Percy marry Beatrice."

"But you are the eldest son!" his mother said indignantly. However, as soon as she caught his steadfast gaze, her expression softened, and she added imploringly, "Oh, but why won"t you marry, dear? There are so many lovely girls; I"m certain you can find happiness!"

Benedict paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He looked first at his mother, then at his grandfather, trying to gauge their reactions before he spoke.

"Because…" The words felt heavy on his tongue, but he forced them out, knowing he couldn"t hide the truth any longer. "Because I"m queer." He lowered his gaze, eyes fixating on his hands, clasped in his lap.

An eerie silence enveloped the room, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. Benedict didn"t dare lift his eyes, dreading the disappointment he might find on their faces. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for their response, each second feeling like an eternity.

Finally, he looked up. But instead of the disappointment he had feared, he saw surprise and concern etched on their features.

"That"s why you didn"t want to marry," Grandfather Henry said, more to himself than to Benedict.

"Yes." Benedict cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. "I lied about Victor," he said more quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "I was…involved with him."

"All of this is just hormones, dear," his mother fussed, her hands fluttering in the air as if trying to brush away the revelation. "It"s nothing serious, I"m sure of it. But if you marry, a woman will surely make you—"

"Lilibeth." Grandfather Henry"s voice wasn"t loud, but his tone commanded attention, silencing her mid-sentence. "Please."

Lilibeth"s lips thinned as she frowned, her concern evident, but she fell silent.

"You were involved with him?" Grandfather Henry said, his face unreadable, his gaze fixed on Benedict.

"I was."

"Yet you said you hired him."

"I did."

"I don"t think I"m following you." Grandfather Henry"s blue eyes found Benedict"s, searching for an explanation.

Benedict bit his lip, his heart racing in his chest. "I…I hired him to play a role but not to get the inheritance. I just didn't want to disappoint you…" He paused, his vision blurring as he looked between his mother and grandfather. "Disappoint you by being queer." His voice was barely above a whisper as he added, "And then I fell in love with him."

Grandfather Henry was silent for a long time while Lilibeth next to him gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Fell in love?" Grandfather Henry repeated pensively.

"Yes," Benedict said, his voice growing stronger. At that moment, he realized the confession was out—there was no taking it back. But he was prepared for any outcome. Being thrown out of the manor, being exiled from the high society of Shorewitch, losing the estate, losing everything.

The only thing he could think about was Victor. Victor, who was somewhere across the English Channel, whom he had probably lost forever.

But then, Grandfather Henry said something that caught Benedict off guard. "I"m sorry that you felt you needed to hide this from us."

Benedict sat dumbfounded, unmoving, trying to process the words.

"When I gave you the ultimatum," Grandfather Henry continued, his voice gentle, "I wanted you to let down your guard. To let someone in." He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Since your father died, you"ve been closed off, Benedict. From me, from your mother, from your brother, from everyone who so much as tried to approach you. If I had known that you…prefer men, I would have told you to find yourself a man. Because I don"t care whom you love. I only care that you do."

Benedict blinked, looking his grandfather in the eyes.

"What are you saying?" he said, his voice raw with emotion.

"I"m saying that you should"ve been honest with me. And I should"ve been more attentive to you. Much more." There was regret seeping through Grandfather Henry's voice as he said, "I"m sorry."

Benedict blinked away the tears that stung his eyes. "I"m sorry too," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry I lied."

Grandfather Henry nodded.

"So where is Victor?" he asked after a pause, leaning back in his chair. "Is he coming back?"

But Benedict shook his head, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "I lost him," he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

***

The article about them appeared on the front page of the morning newspaper three days later. The large headline read, "The Grand Deception of Benedict Blackmoor." Below it, a poorly written piece described how Benedict Blackmoor, the former heir to the Blackmoor estate, had hoaxed the entire high society of Shorewitch by hiring "a common crossdresser" to play his betrothed to secure the inheritance from his dying grandfather.

The whole family read the article at breakfast, yet none of them said a word about it to Benedict. Grandfather Henry read the paper first but didn"t so much as flinch before passing it to Benedict.

Lilibeth read it next and nearly choked on her glass of water but refrained from saying anything, either. Percy, who was in an exceptionally good mood these days since Grandfather Henry had officially granted him permission to marry Beatrice, was handed the newspaper last. When he read the article, his only reaction was a short chuckle before he remarked, "What a menace that woman is."

And that was that.

***

The scandal involving Vivienne LaFleur indeed shocked the aristocrats of Shorewitch, but not as much as it entertained them. For a long while, it was the only topic discussed at balls and assemblies. The idea that a man could so easily trick all of them by posing as a woman most unmarried men had dreamed of for months was both shocking and exciting.

And the fact that the most sought-after bachelor and heir to a grand estate not only turned out to be queer but also was the mastermind behind this ingenious plan was soon seen as a social experiment of sorts aimed at proving how artificial the women"s and men"s roles in high society could be.

Lady Hawthorne, who had planned to ruin Benedict"s reputation, must not have been pleased by such a mild reaction. But Benedict couldn't care less about her. He had not seen the matchmaker in a while since he had stopped attending balls or any sort of gatherings altogether.

Soon after the article was printed, Benedict received supportive letters from his friends—Lord Exington, Emily Ashcroft, and Felicia Blane, though he couldn't find it in himself to write back to them.

Benedict"s life was now almost completely confined to the Blackmoor estate, and he was content with that. Victor"s absence left a void in his heart that only books could attempt to fill, so after completing his daily duties around the estate, Benedict spent his days reading, catching up on all the novels in his library he hadn"t had time for before. The only evening Benedict left the estate was when he went to the city for the reopening of The Shiny Clam, now successfully managed by Charlotte and Night.

With Beatrice accepting Percy"s proposal, the rest of the family was busy with wedding preparations. The couple was so eager to finally marry that the date was set for the end of the month. Lilibeth was happy that one of her sons was finally getting married, although from time to time, Benedict caught her casting worried glances at him.

So he put on a smile and pretended that he was all right.

***

Benedict knew he couldn"t avoid attending balls forever. With Percy"s wedding on the horizon, Benedict would inevitably have to face the consequences of his lies. And soon, that day came.

Blackmoor traditions dictated that a ball be held three days before the wedding. Despite Benedict"s wish to avoid the people who had gossiped about him for the past month, he had no choice but to don his three-piece suit and meet them in the grand ballroom.

Tonight, it looked like a fairytale garden: white Hydrangea and Ranunculus blooms covered walls, tables, ornate chair backs, and candelabra. Tablecloths, curtains, and napkins were all ivory white, while the cutlery was made of white gold.

As guests trickled into the ballroom, they greeted the family, always saving Benedict for last. They smiled at him both nervously and meaningfully as though he were a famous actor.

"How are you feeling?" Percy asked, his expression deadly serious, as he approached Benedict standing at one of the tables.

"I"m fine," Benedict said, smirking at Percy"s unusual attentiveness. "How"s Beatrice?"

"Marvelous. She"s over there, talking to her aunt and our mother," Percy said, pointing at the women. Today, he wore an ivory-white suit with silk lapels and a matching shirt, looking very elegant.

Benedict, wearing a beige suit with a white shirt, had the head of a Ranunculus bloom pinned to his lapel. He wasn"t drinking today, preferring to face whatever awaited him with a clear mind.

For a few moments, the brothers just stood there, observing the guests, until Percy broke the silence.

"I wanted to thank you," he said softly, "for persuading Grandfather Henry to let me marry first."

"It"s not a big deal." Benedict shrugged. "I think he would have done it anyway since there is zero chance of me getting married."

"Even so." Percy shot him a quick look. "You"ve changed."

"In a good way or a bad way?" Benedict snorted, picking up his glass of orange juice.

"In a good way," Percy replied without hesitation.

"Thanks."

"Well, I think you should thank Victor for that," Percy said, accepting a champagne glass from a passing footman. "Whatever he did to you, it worked." As soon as he realized how suggestive his words sounded, he laughed out loud.

Benedict looked at him with amusement. "And I think it"s you who has changed."

"That"s possible," Percy admitted. "I probably have to thank Vivienne for that." A faint smile played on his lips. After a pause, he said, "Have you heard from her? I mean, him."

"I inquired about all the Rosier families in France, but so far, no luck," Benedict said pensively. There were hundreds of them, but he couldn"t find the right one.

"I see." Percy nodded and patted Benedict on the shoulder. "But you"ll be all right."

Benedict rolled his eyes. "Why does everybody say that to me? Do I look so utterly wretched?"

"A little," Percy said carefully. "I mean, you look fine, but your eyes are dead."

"Thanks for the compliment," Benedict retorted, rolling his eyes again.

"Well, I"ve got to go greet the guests." Percy downed his drink in one go. "But if anyone gives you a hard time tonight, just let me know."

"And what exactly will you do to them?" Benedict smiled, looking at his brother"s small frame.

"That"s for them to find out." Percy winked at him and left to meet a group of guests who had just entered the room.

As soon as he left, three people approached Benedict at his table: Emily Ashcroft, Felicia Blane, and Lord Exington. Benedict knew they would come up since he saw them watching him while he was speaking with Percy.

"Blackmoor," Lord Exington clapped him on the back. "You"re alive!"

"Long time no see, Mr. Blackmoor," Felicia Blane said with a smile, offering him her hand for a kiss.

"Mr. Blackmoor," Emily said, curtsying to him.

"It"s good to see all of you," Benedict said honestly. "Your letters were the only thing that entertained me for the past month."

"Don"t lie; we know you read books all day," Emily smirked. "I was in touch with your mother, and she was extremely concerned for you. Not leaving his room. Not leaving the house. I"m quoting her!"

Exington took a sip of his champagne, holding the glass with his little finger outstretched. "I knew you'd be all right. So, how are people treating you tonight?"

"Well, they give me strange looks," Benedict said with a faint smile. "But after Lady Hawthorne"s article, nobody"s really interested in talking to me, which is perfectly fine by me."

"She"s not here, I hope?" Felicia said, quickly looking around the room. "Lady Hawthorne."

Benedict shook his head. "Of course not."

"She told William Thornby that I"m the perfect match for him," Felicia explained with a giggle. "So he"s been writing me letters, trying to see if I would be inclined to marry him."

"To be honest, I think the fellow is traumatized by women," Lord Exington said with a mischievous grin. "After Miss LaFleur and all, I think he doesn"t trust women anymore."

They all laughed, and Benedict blinked at how strangely normal their conversation felt. But as their laughter died down and Benedict looked up, time suddenly stopped.

A man in a raven-black suit walked into the ballroom, his slightly disheveled black hair falling onto his forehead. Benedict"s heart skipped a beat, his stomach jolting. He blinked, trying to dispel the illusion, but it remained.

It was Victor.

"Excuse me," Benedict told his friends, placing his glass on the table.

Victor glanced around the room, looking a little lost, but all gazes were already pinned on him. Victor was as stunning in a suit as Vivienne was in a dress.

As Benedict walked towards him across the room, his heart beat loudly somewhere in his sternum. They were a few feet apart when Victor finally noticed him and stopped in his tracks. He smiled at Benedict, his face growing slightly flushed.

Benedict felt that he was flushed too, or rather flustered.

"Well, this is awkward," Victor said, casting a glance around the room. "Percy didn"t tell me about the dress code."

"What?" Benedict said, at a loss for words.

"I"m the only one in a black suit," Victor clarified, finally resting his eyes on Benedict. "Hello."

"Hello yourself."

People were gawking at them; Benedict could feel it with the back of his head, but he didn"t care.

"I…I was trying to find you," Benedict said, mentally restraining himself from reaching out and touching Victor just to confirm it was really him.

"I know," Victor replied with a slight twist to his lips. "Percy told me."

Benedict blinked.

"Wait, how did Percy find you?" He frowned, completely baffled.

Victor shrugged. "No idea. But he wrote to me a couple of weeks ago, inviting me to his wedding."

Benedict stood still, processing everything he"d heard. He had so many questions but needed a moment alone with Victor, away from the scrutiny of curious eyes.

Before he could come up with a plan, the rest of the Blackmoor family approached them. Percy reached Victor first and, to Benedict"s surprise, hugged him instead of shaking his hand.

"You made it," Percy beamed. "Thank God. I was worried Benny would sulk all night."

Annoyed by the snide remark, Benedict lightly elbowed Percy in the ribs. "Thanks for that, Perce."

Victor chuckled and said, "Congratulations on the wedding." He then offered his hand to Grandfather Henry, who stepped forward from behind Percy.

"Good to see you, son," Grandfather Henry said, pulling Victor into a hug as well.

Victor"s face flushed even more, apparently taken aback by the warm greetings. Lilibeth was the only one who didn"t hug him, but she offered her hand for a kiss, smiled anxiously, and said, "Good to see you, Mr. Rosier."

Mr. Rosier?Benedict turned to look at his mother. How did she know Victor"s last name?

A quick glance at Percy"s slightly proud smile gave everything away. While Grandfather Henry inquired about Victor"s well-being, Benedict pulled Percy aside by the elbow.

"How did you do it?" Benedict asked, incredulous. "How did you find him?"

Percy grinned. "Lady Hawthorne helped me."

Benedict"s eyebrows shot up. "Lady Hawthorne?!"

Percy nodded. "I knew she hired a private investigator to find dirt on Victor, so I offered her a nice sum of money for the information."

"Unbelievable," Benedict muttered with a quiet laugh. That was ingenious. Why hadn"t he thought of that? "I"d kiss you, Perce, but I"m afraid of stirring up more rumors," he said, and Percy outright giggled.

"Would you like some champagne?" Benedict offered Victor when they left the Blackmoors and made their way towards a table in the far corner of the room, where they could speak in private.

"No, thanks," Victor said. "I"m more of a red wine guy."

Benedict beckoned a footman carrying a tray of glasses, and Victor picked up a glass of red wine. "Thanks," he said. "Where"s your drink?"

"I"ve decided not to drink tonight," he explained. "Alcohol makes me too…loose."

"That"s a shame," Victor said with a smirk, and Benedict felt his cheeks burn.

"What did you do in France?" he asked once they reached the table. "Charlotte told me you weren"t coming back."

"I had some urgent affairs," Victor said matter-of-factly, then paused, his mind elsewhere. After a few seconds of silence, he quietly added, "My father died, so I went to the funeral."

"I"m sorry about that."

"We weren"t close," Victor explained, "but as it turned out, he left everything to me in the end. The manor, the estate, even his tobacco business. Everything."

"Didn"t he disinherit you a while back?" Benedict frowned.

"I thought so, too." Victor shrugged. "Turns out he didn"t. Anyway, I had to deal with a lot of paperwork and meet with his solicitors regarding the factory."

"What are you going to do with it?" Benedict asked, glancing at Victor curiously.

"I don"t know yet. But I could really go for a smoke right now."

"You can smoke in here," Benedict said. "Do you need a cigarette?"

Victor shook his head. "I have one. Is there a balcony? I"d love some fresh air, too."

The balcony was located in the adjoining Mermaid room, so they slipped through the door and soon found themselves standing by a balustrade, breathing in the cool evening air.

Victor leaned on the marble railing, his forearms resting on the stone as he gazed out at the falling night. Benedict stood with his back pressed against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Victor pocketed the matches. "Your family seems different tonight," he observed, his voice soft. "Happy."

Benedict snorted, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "We finally decided to have a conversation."

Victor glanced at him, an eyebrow arched in silent question.

"I told them I was queer," Benedict said, his voice steady. "And that I won"t marry Emily Ashcroft."

"I figured that last part," Victor said, his expression unreadable. "Percy sent me the newspaper."

"Yes," Benedict said, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over him. "Sorry about that."

Victor smirked, taking another long drag before speaking. "I didn"t mind it."

Benedict reached out, his fingers brushing against Victor"s as he took the cigarette from his hand. He brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply.

"Since when do you smoke?" Victor asked, surprise in his tone.

"Since you left," Benedict replied, smoke curling from his lips. He put out the cigarette and met Victor"s gaze, his breath catching in his throat. "It took losing you for me to realize that I can"t stay away from you." His face burned with the admission, but a sudden lightness filled his chest.

Victor stared at him, eyes wide and dark. "Well, if we're making confessions," he said, closing the distance between them as he backed Benedict against the balustrade. "I wanted you from the moment I saw you at The Clam," he whispered, his breath hot against Benedict"s ear. "But then you pissed me off."

"You pissed me off first," Benedict murmured before Victor"s lips crashed into his.

The kiss was hungry, desperate. Victor"s hands roamed Benedict"s body, slipping under his jacket, while Benedict"s fingers tangled in Victor"s hair, pulling him closer.

Victor slid his tongue inside Benedict's mouth. Their tongues met, and Victor let out a moan at the contact.

Benedict"s hands slipped from Victor"s hair, trailing down his neck, chest, and back before gripping his hips and pulling their bodies flush together. He rolled his hips, grinding against Victor, the friction making them both gasp into the kiss. Victor"s fingers dug into Benedict"s shoulders, holding on as if his life depended on it.

Benedict spun them around, pinning Victor against the railing. His lips trailed down Victor"s jaw to his neck, his tongue brushing the sensitive skin. Victor let out another moan, his hips bucking involuntarily.

Benedict felt Victor"s hardness pressing against him and ground their hips together again, eliciting another gasp from Victor. His hand slid down to palm Victor through his trousers.

"Fuck, Benedict," Victor groaned, grabbing Benedict"s wrist. "If you don"t stop, I"m going to make a fool of myself."

"Maybe that"s what I want," Benedict whispered, kissing behind Victor's ear. "Maybe I want to see you lose control."

"Fuck," Victor cursed again, his head falling back as Benedict"s lips found his neck once more, his hand continuing its teasing touches. "We can"t…"

"Let"s go then," Benedict whispered, his voice rough with desire. He stepped back, straightening his jacket. "Before I end up ravishing you on this balcony."

Victor"s eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide. He nodded, taking a shaky breath.

Benedict led Victor into the Mermaid room, intending to guide him back to the adjoining ballroom. However, Victor had other plans. He took Benedict by the hand and led him straight to the exit, a mischievous glint in his eyes. They stepped into the corridor, their footsteps echoing on the polished floor as Victor guided Benedict up the stairs to the third floor, straight into Benedict"s bedroom.

The moment the door closed behind them, Victor pressed Benedict against it and dropped to his knees, his fingers making quick work of Benedict"s pants, freeing his straining erection. Benedict gasped as Victor took him into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head before taking him deep in one long slide.

"Oh God," Benedict moaned, his hands tangling in Victor"s hair as he fought the urge to thrust into the wet heat of his mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of intense pleasure through his body. He could never get enough of this.

Victor pulled back, then swallowed him down again, his hand working what he couldn"t fit in his mouth.

Benedict"s moans filled the room, growing louder with each stroke of Victor"s tongue. He tugged at Victor"s hair, pulling him up and crashing their lips together.

"I need you," Benedict murmured against Victor"s mouth. "I need to be inside you." The desire to claim Victor, to make him his again, was all-consuming.

Victor seemed to sense his desperation. He took out a glass vial from his jacket pocket, and they stumbled towards the desk, shedding clothes as they went. Shoving Benedict down onto the armchair, Victor straddled his lap.

Their eyes locked as Victor generously coated Benedict's cock with the oily liquid and positioned himself, the head of Benedict"s cock nudging at his entrance. Before Benedict could prepare him with his fingers, Victor slowly sank down, inch by inch, moaning until Benedict was fully sheathed inside him. The sensation was so overwhelming Benedict's head spun.

They began to move together, Benedict thrusting up as Victor rolled his hips, his hands on Benedict's shoulders, their bodies finding a perfect rhythm. Benedict"s fingers roamed Victor"s body, caressing every inch of his skin he could reach, committing it to memory.

"Ah," Benedict gasped, his head falling back against the armchair as Victor rode him harder, faster.

The thrusts became more erratic as both of them neared their peak. They moved together, their bodies slick with sweat, their moans filling the room. Benedict"s hand wrapped around Victor"s cock, stroking him in time with their thrusts, determined to make him come first. It didn"t take long. Crying out Benedict"s name, Victor came, and the sight of his ecstasy, the feel of him clenching around his cock, was enough to send Benedict tumbling into his own climax. He held Victor close as he spilled inside him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over him.

For a few minutes, they sat there, exchanging slow kisses as their heartbeats gradually settled.

Finally, Victor pulled away, his eyes meeting Benedict"s.

"Charlotte told me you bought out The Clam," he said, the corners of his lips tugging up. "Are you trying to bribe me to stay?"

"Yes," Benedict replied, placing a gentle kiss on Victor"s chin. "Is it working?"

"Obviously," Victor chuckled, but his expression grew serious. "However, one can"t help but wonder what owning a drag cabaret would do to a gentleman"s reputation."

Benedict smirked, brushing strands of Victor"s hair from his forehead. "You"re a drag queen, darling. There"s nothing that can spoil your reputation."

"That is true." Victor grinned. "But I was talking about yours."

Benedict shrugged. "Ah, but there"s not much reputation left to ruin anyway."

Victor frowned, caressing Benedict"s cheek with his thumb. "I wouldn"t want to be the reason for that."

"You"re not," Benedict assured him, his gaze locked with Victor"s as his fingers gently brushed the crease between Victor"s eyebrows. "Because it"s me. I"m the reason."

"Is that supposed to cheer me up?" Victor asked with a wry smile.

"Maybe not, but I"m almost certain there"s no going back anyway," Benedict said, adding with a laugh, "Not after what we did to Thornby"s bathroom."

Victor chuckled again, and Benedict pulled him in for another kiss.

"So, now that you"re very rich," Benedict said against his lips, "and have a century"s worth of cigarettes in France, what do I need to do to make you stay?" He smiled at Victor but felt his smile falter, betraying the vulnerability of his true emotions.

Victor"s eyes twinkled as he leaned in to kiss Benedict"s jaw and whispered, "Just ask me." His lips brushed against Benedict"s ear.

So Benedict said, "Please, stay with me, Victor."

Victor quietly chuckled. "I think you might need to stay with me—in the city, in case your family isn"t too excited about having a drag queen under their roof."

"Actually, surprisingly, I think they"ll be all right with it. But it"s nice to have options."

"We could go to France, too," Victor whispered, rolling his hips and making Benedict shiver. "Or we could stay at that filthy inn by The Clam forever. It"ll be a short walk to work for me."

Benedict snorted, and as Victor rolled his hips again, Benedict felt himself growing harder. Victor seemed to feel it too, as he breathed out, "Fuck."

"The Clam is yours, by the way," Benedict whispered as they both started moving again, their breathing growing heavier. "I bought it for you. You"ll have to sign some paperwork, but otherwise, it"s yours."

"Is that…a wedding gift?" Victor growled between thrusts.

"No, this is the wedding gift," Benedict breathed with the next hard thrust, and both of them moaned.

***

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the large windows of the Magpie room, where the family gathered for breakfast, taking their usual seats around the large mahogany table. Grandfather Henry, as always, sat at the head of the table, with Benedict and Percy on either side of him. Lilibeth took her place across from them while Beatrice and Victor sat next to Percy and Benedict. The room was filled with the delicious scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries.

The breakfast was unusually cheerful, the family seeming genuinely happy for the first time in over a year. Benedict looked at his grandfather, trying to etch this moment into his memory. Grandfather Henry didn"t appear ill at all, which only made Benedict"s heart feel heavier, knowing the truth.

Percy entertained Victor and Beatrice with gossip from the ball, but Benedict"s mind was elsewhere, his thoughts drifting as he picked at his food.

Suddenly, Grandfather Henry cleared his throat, drawing everyone"s attention. "I need to say something," he began, his voice suddenly serious. The family fell silent, all eyes on him. "I"m very happy to see that my grandsons—" he reached out, covering both Benedict"s and Percy"s hands with his own, "—are finally happy. And that you"re getting along again." He smiled warmly. "This has upset me for a long time, and now, I"m content."

Benedict smiled back, feeling Victor give his other hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.

"And that"s why," Grandfather Henry continued, "I think it"s time for some important announcements."

"Announcements?" Benedict asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes." Grandfather Henry looked around the table, then cleared his throat. "I"m not dying."

Silence fell upon the room, heavy and thick with shock. No one moved, everyone staring at Grandfather Henry in disbelief. Finally, Benedict repeated, "You"re not dying?"

"I"m not," Grandfather Henry confirmed, a subtle smile tugging at his lips.

"But you said—" Percy began.

"Dr. Harrod—" Lilibeth muttered.

"I lied," Grandfather Henry admitted, his eyes twinkling. "And made Dr. Harrod keep my secret. I just wanted to encourage my grandsons to make up. And find love."

A wave of relief and shock rippled across the table. Benedict found himself torn between anger at the deception, exhilarating relief, and laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

"I"m completely healthy," Grandfather Henry continued before anyone could interject, "and I will be taking a year-long trip around the world. With Maria." He turned to look at the head of staff, as always, standing quietly in the corner of the Magpie room.

"Maria?" Lilibeth stammered as Percy shot Benedict a knowing look. "Our Maria?"

"Yes."

Lilibeth slapped her forehead, completely baffled. "I do not understand."

"Maria and I are in love," Grandfather Henry explained. "We have been for some time. And I think it"s time for us to marry." He smiled at Maria, who returned the smile, her eyes shining with affection.

Lilibeth looked as if she might faint, but Beatrice patted her back, trying to soothe her.

"Benedict," Grandfather Henry said, turning to his eldest grandson, "since you"ve held up your end of the deal and found love," he glanced meaningfully at Victor, "you will inherit the Blackmoor estate after me. And while I"m gone on my trip, you"ll be in charge here."

"Thank you…grandfather," Benedict said, glancing at Percy, who smiled back. Judging by the look on his face, Percy already knew about this decision.

"Meanwhile, Percival and dear Beatrice will move to Cornside Manor, where I"m sure they"ll be more than comfortable," Grandfather Henry added.

"Thank you, grandfather," Percy nodded, smiling at Beatrice.

"I think that might be it," Grandfather Henry said thoughtfully before glancing at Lilibeth. "Are you all right there, dear?"

"I"m fine," she murmured, fanning herself with a napkin. "The most important thing is that you"re healthy, Father. I can live with the rest."

"That"s the spirit," Grandfather Henry said, smiling broadly.

And then the conversations at the table continued as if nothing had happened—about everything and nothing.

After breakfast, Benedict and Victor went for a stroll in the gardens, basking in the sun after what felt like a long winter. The snow had melted away, and water trickled along the path, gleaming in the sunlight.

"Your servants are looking," Victor said, glancing over his shoulder at the manor behind them.

Benedict followed his gaze to see the maids and footmen standing by the windows of the Magpie room. They must have been cleaning up after breakfast and had spotted Benedict and Victor outside. As soon as Benedict turned, some of the maids backed away from the windows, giggling.

"Let them," Benedict said, reaching out to take Victor"s hand.

Victor gave him a crooked smile before squeezing his fingers. "You might be a little too reckless, Mr. Blackmoor. One day, they are going to work for you, not your grandfather."

"Well—" Benedict smiled, leaning in so close that he heard Victor"s breath hitch from the proximity. "Then they had better get used to this." And he crashed his mouth onto Victor"s, feeling a muffled chuckle against his lips.

THE END