Chapter 8. Lord Exington’s Assembly

"Where were you all night?" Percy demanded without preamble.

He was sitting in the armchair by the window, where Benedict usually spent his days reading. Percy looked haggard, dark circles under his eyes, wearing the same shirt and trousers he had on last night. However, his shirt was now unbuttoned at the collar, a bow tie hanging loose around his neck.

Benedict blinked, his heart pounding. Had Percy been sitting there all night?

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Answer my question." Percy"s voice was icy. "Where were you?"

Benedict let out a weary sigh as he shrugged off his snow-dusted coat. Exhaustion weighed on him, leaving no energy to withstand one of Percy"s tiring arguments. But once Percy got into his mood, it was impossible to shut him up.

"It"s none of your concern, Percy," Benedict said, draping his coat over the armoire door. "Now get out."

Percy remained rooted in place. "Not until you tell me where you"ve been."

Benedict huffed in exasperation. "Fine, I went for a walk. Satisfied?"

"You were out walking all night?"

"What? Of course not."

"Don"t lie to me."

No, Benedict thought, Percy couldn"t have been sitting there the entire night. He was bluffing.

"Why does it matter what I was doing?" Benedict said, attempting to steer the conversation. "I couldn"t sleep, so I took a stroll through the gardens."

"With whom?"

Benedict swallowed hard. "Alone."

"Liar." Percy straightened up in his seat. "I saw you two together."

Benedict felt his insides turn to ice, his stomach plummeting. He didn"t know how to respond, so he met Percy"s gaze defiantly and said, "And?"

"Why must you constantly attempt to ruin my life?" Percy asked, his voice cracking as he abruptly stood up, eyes glistening with tears.

Benedict froze, taken aback by the raw emotion. He had anticipated contempt, discomfort, anger even, but not this heart-wrenching anguish on the verge of tears.

"I"m not ruining anything," he said, taken aback. "And what I do on my own time shouldn"t concern you." His building defiance faded when he saw Percy"s reaction. He paused. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"You"re trying to ruin my elopement with Beatrice!" Percy said desperately.

Benedict stopped. "I"m—what?"

Percy looked away and wiped his eyes. "Don"t pretend you don"t know what I mean. I know everything."

Silence hung in the room. Benedict stood there, trying to piece together what Percy meant, but his reaction only caused confusion. Did Percy see him with Victor or Vivienne? What did he know? And how could it affect Percy's engagement with Beatrice? The only explanation Benedict could fathom was that Percy witnessed him with Victor and realized Benedict had no plans to marry, meaning Percy couldn"t marry either. But if so, why didn"t Percy mention Vivienne"s true identity? Benedict blinked, more perplexed than before.

"Percy, I genuinely have no idea what you"re talking about," Benedict said, but Percy shot him a hateful glare.

"You're a liar."

Benedict couldn"t argue with that, so he remained silent, waiting for Percy to continue.

"You're helping Erik Winchester propose to Beatrice, knowing full well I cannot propose myself until you are married!" Percy's voice was hoarse with emotion.

"What?" Benedict repeated dumbly. "I did no such thing!"

Percy looked at him with distrust. "So you expect me to believe that tonight, when you went to speak to the doctor, and Erik left the parlor soon afterwards, you weren"t discussing how he could pursue Beatrice?"

"No," Benedict replied but then realized Percy"s phrasing had confused him. "I mean, yes, I went to see the doctor. But I didn"t see Erik after leaving the parlor."

Percy seemed completely confounded by Benedict"s response. He wiped away the lingering tears with his shirt sleeve, brow furrowing into a deep frown.

"I swear, I had no idea about anything going on between Erik and Beatrice," Benedict said before Percy could come up with another outlandish theory.

"There"s nothing going on between them," Percy said hastily. "But I found out from Thornby that Erik has his sights set on Beatrice and wants to propose. Especially after learning that I plan to propose to her once you"re married."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"I don"t think you should worry about Erik Winchester, though, Perce."

"Why not? I"m not a fool. I know he"s extremely handsome."

Benedict shrugged. "He might be. But it"s quite obvious Beatrice is in love with you."

Percy"s face flushed up to his ears. "Thanks," he mumbled. For a few moments, he appeared lost in thought, but then suspicion crept into his expression as if he realized something. "But you were out with him tonight! I saw you both leaving the manor around ten."

So Victor was right—somebody had been watching them.

Benedict stayed silent for a moment. He didn"t want to lie.

"I wasn"t with Erik," he said carefully.

Percy frowned again, the cogs visibly turning. Benedict felt his heart racing. When it came to Benedict's preferences, Percy was completely oblivious, but even he could likely piece things together, considering the other guests had remained in the parlor.

"Oh!" Percy"s eyes suddenly lit up. "Wait."

Here it comes, Benedict thought, his throat drying up.

"That was Exington, wasn"t it?" Percy said triumphantly. "He left at some point, too. I completely forgot about him."

Benedict felt his stomach twist. "Yes," he said, scarcely believing he"d get away with it. "It was him."

"What did he want then?" Percy asked casually, his mood much improved. "Why such secrecy? And where were you two all night?"

"He…" Benedict blinked, scrambling for a story. "He wants to host an assembly at his manor. And we weren"t out all night. We returned within an hour or so. I was so tired, I fell asleep in the study."

"An assembly?" Percy"s eyebrows shot up. "Why did he want to speak to you about it?"

Benedict shrugged, more confident now that Percy had taken the bait. "Well, he loved our ball, so he wanted my advice."

"Hmm," Percy mused. "I wonder when he"ll have it. I have a lot of reading to catch up on, with all these assemblies leaving me little time."

"He didn"t say." Benedict felt an immense weight lifted off his shoulders.

"Fine then," Percy said, already heading towards the doors. "I"m going to get some sleep."

"Good luck," Benedict offered, awkwardly waving a hand as his brother exited the room.

As the door closed behind Percy, Benedict realized two things: one—this was the most normal conversation he and his brother had in the past year. And two—he had come perilously close to failure: his coat hung on the armoire, melted snow dripping from it onto the carpet below.

***

That morning, the snowstorm had finally settled, and the sun emerged, melting the snow in the driveway and the gardens. The day promised to be unseasonably warm, even for late winter.

Benedict planned to seize this opportunity to return to the city and inquire about Lucky"s whereabouts, knowing full well the stable hand would soon notice the horse's disappearance. However, if Benedict managed to find Lucky, he could simply claim the horse had run off.

In the dining room, Maria had opened the windows to allow the fresh air inside. It felt not at all cold, the day resembling early spring rather than winter.

Benedict was among the last to arrive for breakfast. After his poor night"s sleep, he had a hard time rousing himself, but when he took his seat, he was pleasantly surprised to find his place set beside Vivienne"s.

As the room filled with chatter and clatter of cutlery, Benedict turned to Vivienne"s well-rested face as she gave him a quick glance.

"Good morning," he said, placing a napkin on his lap. "Did you sleep well?"

Vivienne's eyes quickly darted to his mother, seated next to Grandfather Henry at the head of the table, as if warning that she was listening to them.

"Oh, I just told Mrs. Blackmoor," Vivienne said casually. "I hardly slept a wink."

"But you look much improved today, dear," Lilibeth remarked contentedly. "Whatever Dr. Harrod gave you, it worked like a charm."

"He didn't give me any remedy, madam," Vivienne replied, "but I do feel significantly better. And how about you, Mr. Blackmoor? Did you have a good night?"

Benedict felt his face flush at the true implication behind her question.

"It was fine," he said quickly, picking up his water glass to occupy himself.

"And how's your leg, dear?"

"Much improved, thank you."

A footman approached Lilibeth with a plate of thinly sliced ham, meats, and cheeses, and she busied herself filling her plate. As soon as she got distracted, Vivienne leaned closer to Benedict and murmured, "Ouch."

Benedict gave her a questioning look.

"Just fine, darling?" She arched an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I could swear you thoroughly enjoyed yourself, judging by the way you—ah—"

Benedict squeezed her leg under the table to silence her, releasing it a moment later. He hoped no one had noticed his reaction, and luckily, it seemed to go undetected.

Vivienne let out a soft laugh but didn"t say anything else.

Alongside breakfast, the footmen served champagne, the bubbles sparkling in the sunlight as they rose from the glasses. Benedict drank his own in less than a minute and asked for another one, trying to calm down.

"The day has just begun, and you"re already on your second glass," Vivienne said quietly, careful not to be overheard. She twisted her lips. "You can have mine too if you like."

"No, thank you."

"Does alcohol help you muster the courage?" Vivienne"s eyes darted to Benedict"s lips, and he suddenly felt very warm.

"Stop it," he said.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that." He couldn"t think straight.

She instantly looked away, and he could swear he saw a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

"Miss LaFleur, how long will you be staying in England?" William Thornby asked from the other end of the table, his face red like a ripe tomato. Benedict noticed Thornby"s color betraying him every time he so much as glanced at Vivienne.

"I"m not sure yet," Vivienne said, and Benedict felt his mother"s gaze shift to her. "As I"ve mentioned, my father is here on business, so my plans largely depend on his."

"Where are you staying in the city, if I may ask?" Thornby inquired, his small, dark eyes narrowing behind his round glasses as he regarded Vivienne with interest.

"The Royal Inn," Vivienne lied smoothly, though Benedict didn"t like the way Lady Hawthorne eyed her from her seat across from Lilibeth.

"You should stay at Blackmoor," Lilibeth said suddenly, her tone full of conviction as she spread butter on her toast. "Why pay for such an expensive hotel when you could easily stay with us? Both you and your father. It would be no trouble at all."

"That"s very kind of you, Mrs. Blackmoor." Vivienne smiled, but before she could politely decline, Lilibeth continued.

"Benedict looks so much better these past few days!" She sighed, shaking her head. "Just look at his complexion; he"s finally regaining some color, and I"m certain it"s all thanks to your company."

"Mother, please," Benedict said, closing his eyes briefly to avoid visibly cringing.

"What? That's the truth."

Vivienne let out a chuckle. "Oh, Mrs. Blackmoor, you"re too kind. I must confess, there is indeed a secret for those rosy cheeks, and it's not my company." She winked playfully at Benedict, who blushed even deeper. "It's wine."

His mother sighed, looking at Vivienne. "Well, I"m just reluctant to let you go so soon, dear. We"ve truly been enjoying these past few days, especially Benedict."

Before Benedict could respond, Percy cut in. "I think we"ll be seeing Miss LaFleur very soon, though, right? At Lord Exington"s assembly."

Benedict felt his face instantly drain of color as Lord Exington, chatting quietly with Charlotte, turned his head towards them. "Did someone say my name?"

Benedict glared at Percy, who looked back, smiling apologetically. "Oops, I wasn"t supposed to mention that, was I? Sorry. But now the cat"s out of the bag, Exington. You can tell everyone about your assembly."

"My assembly?" Lord Exington raised his eyebrows at Percy. "Who told you I was having an assembly?"

"Benny did," Percy admitted guiltily. "Well, not directly. I just saw the two of you leaving the manor last night and pieced it together."

Benedict"s heart stopped beating, his tongue paralyzed. He couldn"t bear to look at either his brother or Lord Exington, who he felt eyeing him from across the table.

"What assembly?" Thornby interjected. "I don"t think I was invited, Exington."

Lord Exington chuckled, "Apparently, nor was I, Thornby." There was a long pause before he continued, "But I wanted to host an event at my manor, so the assembly will be this Friday night. You"re all invited."

An excited murmur went around the table. Benedict finally met Lord Exington"s gaze, who offered him a smile over the rim of his champagne glass. "I intend to make my assembly as memorable as Mr. Blackmoor"s ball," Lord Exington continued. "Perhaps even grander if I"m fortunate."

"What exactly are you planning, Exington?" Thomas Winchester asked mischievously.

Lord Exington smiled his broad, cat-like smile. "It"s going to be unique, that"s for certain."

"Unique?" Percy repeated as if tasting the word. "If you mean ice sculptures, then you"re too late. Thornby has those planned for the masquerade, right Thornby?"

Thornby nodded enthusiastically, mouth full of toast.

Lord Exington smirked, looking around the table. "I was thinking of inviting performers from the city. Artists who challenge societal boundaries."

"Boundaries?" Vivienne echoed.

"Indeed," Lord Exington smiled, his gaze lingering on her for a little too long. "Dancers, musicians, all sorts of artists from the city"s night cabarets."

"Night cabarets?" Emily Ashcroft asked, clearly intrigued. Her voice dropped to a whisper so Lilibeth, Lord Blackmoor, Lord Winchester, and Lady Hawthorne, now discussing the weather forecast for Friday, wouldn"t overhear. "You don"t mean those places where…men dress as women and women as men?"

"Precisely," Lord Exington said, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Benedict"s heart raced. If Exington hired city drag queens, the likelihood of one of them recognizing Vivienne was extremely high. He stole a subtle glance her way, but her expression betrayed nothing, perfectly nonchalant.

"I"ve always found those cabarets rather scandalous and honestly quite dangerous," William Thornby commented.

"Nonsense," Lord Exington waved it off. "Having them perform at a ball should prove safe and entertaining."

"It would certainly be…a departure from tradition," Beatrice said carefully.

"Exactly!" Lord Exington grinned and surveyed the table. "So, who"s coming? I trust this won"t frighten you off, Blackmoor?" He glanced at Benedict.

Benedict hoped his turmoil didn"t show on his face. "I"m not sure if it"s entirely…appropriate," he said cautiously, aware of Vivienne watching.

"I agree," William Thornby nodded.

Lord Exington"s eyebrows rose in surprise, disappointment edging his voice. "I didn"t expect that stance from you, Blackmoor. Considering I"m practically hosting this assembly for you alone." He winked at Benedict, sending a chill down his spine.

Exington clearly wasn"t actually planning any assembly, but did that mean he was fabricating this solely for Benedict"s benefit? Benedict might have thought it a friendly gesture since Exington was skilled at reading people and could probably sense the confusion between the Blackmoor brothers. But why mention inviting drag queens? Did he know about Vivienne? About their charade? Or was this just an absurd series of unconnected events?

"I"ll think about it," Benedict replied evenly.

Lord Exington turned to Vivienne. "Please, Miss LaFleur, tell me at least you won"t refuse me your company?"

"I won"t," Vivienne said neutrally. "An assembly like that sounds intriguing, though it may not suit all guests."

Lord Exington nodded, considering her words. "But wouldn"t it be a thrilling way to challenge our perceptions?" His curious eyes found Benedict's again. "Come now, Blackmoor, you should attend." Then to Vivienne, "Miss LaFleur, you must persuade him to come."

Vivienne met Benedict"s gaze, her piercing eyes holding his. "Don"t worry, Lord Exington, I promise to make him come."

Benedict looked away from her, draining his second glass of champagne as his neck burned.

"We shall come too," Erik Winchester said, glancing at his brother and then turning to Beatrice. "Will you attend, Miss Glasscock?"

Beatrice shrugged, taken aback by the attention. "Why not?"

"Count me in, too," Percy said hastily. "I"m not easily shocked."

"Me as well," Emily Ashcroft chimed in.

"Mr. Blackmoor?" Vivienne said, drawing all eyes to Benedict. "Will you come? For me?"

Benedict couldn"t tell if he was imagining it or if Victor was deliberately torturing him. But flashes of the night before flooded his mind, his body heating up at the memories.

"Yes," Benedict replied, betrayed by his own reaction. "I"ll come."

Vivienne blinked, her expression suddenly serious as her eyes lingered on his lips again before she blinked and gave him one of her crooked smiles. "Oh, that was way too easy."

Benedict loathed how he felt at that moment: like a complete fool. Did Victor know how desperately Benedict longed for him? Was he tormenting him on purpose, or was this simply his way of speaking to anyone, and Benedict had just blown it out of proportion in his own head?

He desperately wanted to be alone with Victor, his heart twisting at the thought it might never happen again.

William Thornby huffed. "Very well then, if everyone"s attending, I suppose I shall too. But I question whether society should foster such…deviant behavior. There must be moral boundaries." He eyed Benedict, looking for support, and then added, lowering his voice. "Especially with the older crowd present."

Lord Exington smirked. "If you"re worried about shocking the elders, Thornby, rest assured they likely won"t notice anything untowards. I intend this to be a sophisticated, cultured affair."

"Fine," Thornby shrugged.

"It"s settled then," Lord Exington declared with a clap.

***

After breakfast, the guests began bidding their goodbyes, and Benedict felt a tugging ache in his chest at the prospect of not seeing Victor until Friday night. But what vexed him the most was Vivienne"s apparent nonchalance after the previous night, as though nothing had happened, while he himself couldn"t even manage to eat a piece of toast.

Before leaving, Vivienne chatted amiably with the Winchester brothers, shared a laugh with Lord Exington, and spent the rest of her time thanking Lilibeth and Grandfather Henry for their hospitality. She spoke to Benedict as well, but only in the company of others, clearly reluctant to be left alone with him.

"I"ll see you all at the assembly," Lord Exington told the company before boarding his carriage. Once inside, he gave Benedict a meaningful glance and said, "I"ll be waiting for you especially, Blackmoor."

Benedict nodded, unsure whether this was a friendly reminder or a threat.

When it was Vivienne"s turn to leave, she said goodbye to his family, barely glancing at Benedict as she nodded curtly and followed Charlotte towards her carriage. For a moment, he stood frozen on the porch, contemplating whether he should go after her and talk to her before she left.

But by the time he had made up his mind, she was already getting inside the carriage. Benedict strode over to her and caught her by the elbow before she could join Charlotte inside.

"Leaving without a goodbye?" he said, meeting Vivienne"s surprised gaze.

"Did you want a kiss on the forehead?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, her expression unreadable.

Benedict stepped towards Vivienne, shielded from view by the door, and pushed her against the carriage wall. Mere inches separated their bodies as Benedict leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I would kiss you myself if you weren"t wearing all this." He tugged at her skirt, hearing Vivienne"s breath catch before stepping back and turning to leave without another word.

As he approached the manor, his heart pounding, the stable hand called out to him. "Mr. Blackmoor, here"s your horse for the trip to the city."

Benedict looked around. The stable hand led the horse towards him by the reins.

Benedict froze, scarcely believing his eyes. The horse was none other than Lucky!

***

In the following days, Benedict found no explanation for Lucky"s mysterious reappearance. How the horse they had lost in the city at night could turn up in the stables the next morning without anyone"s knowledge was something he simply could not fathom.

This mystery served as a welcome distraction from the agonizing wait for the assembly. As routine estate duties consumed most of his time those days, Benedict didn"t have a chance to send Victor a note, let alone visit him in the city. To be honest, he didn"t even know what to write or say and decided to keep his distance until he could sort out his own feelings.

Yet he keenly felt Victor"s absence after the days they had spent together, and as the event neared, the separation grew increasingly palpable.

Two nights before Exington"s assembly, Benedict awoke in the middle of the night, his entire body taut and aching from a vivid dream. In it, Victor had visited his room, touching him with his hands and mouth. Upon waking, embarrassed by the dream, Benedict initially refused to relieve himself, hoping the arousal would subside. But it persisted. Lying there, he briefly contemplated rushing to the city, to The Shiny Clam, hoping to find Victor... but what then? He knew the idea was foolish. Instead, he grasped his length, imagining it was Victor"s mouth on him. He frantically pushed into his hand and came with a loud moan, instantly flooded with humiliation and guilt.

Consumed by anxiety, Benedict lost all appetite, which unsurprisingly did not escape Lilibeth"s notice.

"You"ve barely touched your meal, dear," she remarked as the four of them sat at the breakfast table Friday morning. Lilibeth"s words caused Grandfather Henry to look up from his plate at Benedict.

"What"s the matter, Benedict?" he frowned.

"Is there something wrong with the food, Mr. Blackmoor?" Maria asked, the ever-present shadow in the room.

"No, everything"s fine," Benedict said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I"m just not hungry."

"My, my!" Percy smirked. "Did a bear die in the woods? I think Benny is actually in love!"

"Shut it, Perce," Benedict said, waving him off, though without his usual venom.

"Is it because of Miss LaFleur, my dear?" Lilibeth exclaimed with a flourish. "Oh, how lovely if that"s the case! I was worried you were ill."

"I"m just a bit under the weather," Benedict said, sipping his tea. He wasn"t in the mood to discuss any of it with his family. Anxiety about the evening, the possibility of their lie somehow being exposed, his grandfather realizing what a pathetic liar he was, the scandal it could bring…all of it gripped Benedict. But most of all, he was haunted by the fact that as soon as this charade ended, he would never see Victor again.

***

Friday night finally arrived. The evening sun bathed the Blackmoor Manor in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows as the family gathered outside, awaiting the carriage to Lord Exington"s assembly.

The weather was pleasant, with no hint that the week had begun with a snowstorm. Despite the inviting evening, Benedict, dressed in a finely tailored black suit, felt an odd mixture of anxiety and reluctance. He smoothed his white silk cravat, taking in his reflection in a window before turning to observe his family. Nearby, Percy preened in a vivid blue suit adorned with intricate gold embellishments—an ostentatious but quintessentially Percy ensemble.

"I detest assemblies," Percy declared, his voice weary and unamused.

"As do I," Beatrice chimed in, though her tone lacked conviction. True to her ever-proper nature, she wore an austere dress with a high neckline and long sleeves.

"Then why attend?" Benedict asked, hoping to distract himself from the pit of anxiety in his chest.

Percy shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Mother and Grandfather are going. If they are, I must as well." He glanced meaningfully at Lilibeth, who stood a few feet away speaking with Grandfather Henry. She wore a lavender gown that flowed gently beneath her coat, pearls glistening at her neck.

"I don"t think you"ll enjoy it much, Perce," Benedict said, wondering how Percy might react to seeing the drag queens.

But Percy seemed to miss his implication. "Surprisingly, you may be right, Benny. I inquired about the guest count, and apparently, there will be at least a hundred people attending! But tradition takes precedence over my own wishes."

Soon, the carriage rolled onto the driveway, and the family boarded one by one. The short journey to Lord Exington"s estate felt excruciating. While his family chatted idly, Benedict gazed out the window, occasionally catching his grandfather"s sidelong glances.

As they approached the Exington estate, Benedict noticed the intricate late winter landscaping. Bare trees lined the driveway, their branches interweaving overhead into a natural archway. The path then led through a meadow where melting snow had left patches of grass peeking through. Further in, a garden emerged with frozen fountains, surrounded by leafless topiary sculptures of foxes, deer, and rabbits. Amidst it all stood the stone Exington Manor as the stunning centerpiece.

The Blackmoors stepped onto the pavement in front of the manor, met by Lord Exington"s butler. With a formal bow, he greeted them and led them inside. The interior looked surprisingly modern compared to the building"s exterior. No plush red carpets or ornate tapestries were in sight, and the chandeliers were smaller than one would expect in such a grand residence. Adorning the walls were pictures, most notably sensual portraits of scantily clad men and women.

Benedict tried to recall the last time he had visited the Exington Manor, only to realize that it had been during the lifetime of Lord Exington"s father, the late Lord Garrett Exington. Unsurprisingly, under his son"s stewardship, the manor now looked entirely different.

"This is quite vulgar," Beatrice whispered as they climbed the main staircase.

"Quite a distaste," Percy muttered under his breath, although his eyes lingered on the naked portraits for a tad too long.

"Now there, Percival, don"t be unkind," said Grandfather Henry, his gaze sliding from one painting to the next. "This is art, and art cannot be judged, only appreciated."

"If you insist," Percival shrugged. "But some of these women look a little too masculine."

"Oh, these are not women," said a voice behind them. The whole family turned around to see the owner of the house, Lord Exington, ascending the staircase. He was wearing a golden vest with a matching suit, a white shirt, and a cravat, his blonde hair slicked back with a couple of strands falling across his face. "They're all men," he said with a mischievous smile, and for a split second, Benedict felt Lord Exington"s gaze meet his own.

Benedict looked away, feeling his entire body tense. This couldn't be a coincidence. How much did Exington know?

"Oh, this is utterly scandalous!" Lilibeth muttered, unfolding her fan and waving it at herself, her cheeks flushed.

"So I hear," Lord Exington chuckled. "But I love witnessing the reaction of my guests. It"s always so…intriguing." He looked at Benedict again, this time holding his gaze. "What is your opinion, Blackmoor?"

Benedict ensured his demeanour did not betray him in the slightest as he said, "It"s not to my taste, but I take no offense."

Lord Exington laughed and clapped him on the back. Then, the host suddenly realized he had not properly greeted his guests, so he shook the men"s hands and kissed the women"s.

Altogether, they proceeded to the grand ballroom on the third floor. The sight was breathtaking, its vastness filled with the soft glow of innumerable candles placed throughout. This intimate lighting created a sense of privacy and sensuality, and it seemed as though the guests" laughter and conversation were muffled by the semi-darkness of the room.

French windows at the far end opened onto a big balcony overlooking the estate grounds, allowing occasional gusts of wind to sweep inside, causing the candle flames to dance.

As guests approached to greet them with small talk, Benedict scanned the room for familiar faces. He spotted William Thornby, flushed in his tight suit, with a top hat tucked under his arm; Emily Ashcroft, who nodded at Benedict with a warm smile from across the room; and Lady Hawthorne, standing poised by the balcony, who merely gave him a brief glance before looking away.

Benedict"s eyes roamed, searching for Vivienne. And then he found her, his heart skipping a beat. She stood among Felicia Blane and the Winchester brothers, a breathtaking sight in a tight dark green silk gown. Her hair was styled in big, lustrous curls, her eyes sparkling in the evening light, her lips a deep, alluring red.

Whether Vivienne hadn't noticed Benedict or pretended not to, he couldn"t tear his gaze away as he made polite conversation, his entire focus drawn to her. Despite his body"s protests, he knew better than to appear overeager.

Servants wove among the guests, offering delicacies like smoked salmon, cucumber sandwiches, oysters on the half-shell, and pastries filled with spiced meat. The clinking of glasses filled the air as champagne and elderflower wine flowed.

Suddenly, Benedict found himself cornered by Lord Harris, one of his grandfather"s old friends, for a dull discussion about estate matters, Benedict downed two glasses of wine one after the other. The man droned on about crops for a quarter of an hour, not stopping for even a second so Benedict could excuse himself. Benedict already thought he would never escape this tedious hell when a passing woman distracted Lord Harris with her curves. Seizing his chance, Benedict quickly excused himself and made his way over to Vivienne"s group.

"Good evening," Benedict greeted them, feeling his neck flush at Vivienne's mere proximity. He avoided looking at her directly.

Benedict shook the Winchester brothers" hands and brushed his lips across Felicia"s and Vivienne"s knuckles. Vivienne merely gave him a curt nod in response. As Thomas Winchester continued with his story about traveling in Ireland with his brother, Benedict could do nothing but sip his wine. He occasionally stole glances at Vivienne, who seemed completely absorbed in the conversation.

Left alone with his thoughts, Benedict tried to distract himself by scanning the ballroom for any sign of the drag performers Lord Exington promised to include in the night"s entertainment. But he couldn"t spot anyone among the guests who appeared to be in drag. Perhaps Exington had changed his mind, Benedict thought. Or it was merely a joke at his expense, and he wasn't actually planning to invite them.

Suddenly, as if summoned by Benedict"s musings, Lord Exington himself emerged from the crowd. He greeted Felicia first, then Thomas and Erik, making a pointed delay before finally turning to Vivienne. "Miss LaFleur," he purred, voice smooth as he took her hand and brushed his lips across her skin, "you are a vision tonight."

Meeting his gaze, Vivienne smiled. "You are too kind, Lord Exington."

"I would be honored to have the first dance with you, my lady," Exington said, taking her hand again to press another soft kiss. "To open the evening with such beauty would bring me immense joy."

"I would gladly oblige," Vivienne said evenly.

It was at that moment that Benedict noticed Grandfather Henry"s gaze on him from a few feet away. Grandfather Henry sat at one of the round tables, drinking champagne and discussing something with Lord Winchester, but his eyes were fixed on Benedict. Benedict knew what his grandfather was thinking. Lord Exington was not one to beat around the bush, and his interest in Vivienne must be clear to anyone.

"Are we going to dance straight away?" Benedict asked, turning to Lord Exington. "I was hoping you could show us around the manor. The last time I was here, I was too young, so I barely remember anything. Plus, it looked quite different. And I"m sure Miss LaFleur would love to take a look around since she"s never been here."

"I wouldn"t mind a tour," Vivienne said with a shrug.

"Oh, me too!" Felicia Blane said, her rosy cheeks growing even rosier.

"Hm!" Lord Exington said with curiosity. "Well then, if that"s the case, let me give you a tour. But let"s not bring anyone else with us, or it"s going to ruin the mood."

"I"m not going to join you," Erik said, turning on the spot as though trying to find someone in the crowd. "I need to do something. Plus, I"ve already seen your house, Exington, so please excuse me." And with that, he left the group and disappeared among the crowd. Benedict wondered if he had gone looking for Beatrice.

Soon, the five of them discreetly left the ballroom. When they stepped into the hallway, Lord Exington offered his arm to Vivienne and led the way. Felicia Blane mimicked them and hung on Benedict"s arm while Thomas Winchester followed right after.

"What an original idea to fill the entire ballroom with simple candlelight," Felicia commented to Benedict as they wandered down the corridor. "No chandeliers or anything, creating such an intimate atmosphere. Don"t you agree, Mr. Blackmoor?"

"Indeed," Benedict replied absently, his mind fixated on the image ahead—Vivienne"s arm linked through Exington"s as they spoke in hushed tones. He couldn"t stand seeing them so close, especially since he sensed Exington was up to something.

"You seem terribly distracted tonight," Felicia said with an inquisitive look. "Do tell, what"s on your mind?"

"It"s nothing," Benedict shook his head, grateful when Exington led them into the expansive library, distracting Felicia from further questioning.

The cavernous space held towering shelves reaching up to the high ceilings, thousands of gilded spines glinting in the chandeliers" glow.

"Magnificent," Benedict breathed, the anxiety gripping him momentarily forgotten. "How many volumes are in here?" he asked Exington.

Lord Exington shrugged. "I couldn"t say. I don"t really read—this was my father"s collection."

"You astonish me, Lord Exington!" Felicia said, shaking her head. "How can an educated gentleman not read?"

"I don"t pretend to be anything other than myself," Exington said with a twisted smile.

"Mr. Blackmoor adores books," Vivienne cut in, shooting Benedict a sidelong glance. "Though in his case, perhaps less reading and more living would be better." She chuckled lightly.

Meeting her gaze, Benedict said, "Then you must be quite proud, Miss LaFleur, as I"ve scarcely opened a book since your arrival in Shorewitch."

Vivienne"s lips quirked in a smirk. "I shall take that as a compliment."

***

They spent another twenty minutes wandering around the manor, visiting rooms like the study, dining room, living room, guest parlor, and many others. Along the way they saw even more paintings of naked subjects, with Thomas Winchester examining them closely as Felicia Blane blushed merely from glimpsing them.

"Ah, it"s time to proceed to the ballroom," Lord Exington announced, checking the clock in the gallery they had just viewed. "The performance shall commence in forty minutes, so before that, I would be delighted to have a dance with you, Miss LaFleur." He kissed Vivienne"s hand again, and Benedict averted his gaze.

"Performance?" Felicia asked, surprised. "What performance?"

"You"ll see," Lord Exington said with a smirk.

"Is that what I think it is?" Thomas Winchester interjected, raising an eyebrow. "Did you invite—"

"Shh…" Lord Exington hushed him and motioned to the other guests. "Let"s proceed."

As soon as they returned to the ballroom, Lord Exington went to speak with the musicians and afterwards announced the first dance. Benedict took a seat at a table, ignoring the looks Felicia Blane kept throwing his way. He took another glass of elderflower wine and sipped it, watching as William Thornby approached Vivienne clumsily and requested a dance. Though Benedict couldn"t make out their exchange, he knew Vivienne had refused when Lord Exington came to take her by the hand and sweep her into the dance.

They were the first couple on the floor, but others quickly joined them. Benedict saw Percy offer his hand to Beatrice, who curtsied shyly with a smile; Thomas Winchester invited Emily Ashcroft, who looked lovely in her pink ruched dress; Lord Winchester whisked Charlotte away from her chair, kissing her hand before leading her into the dance, though Charlotte seemed utterly unimpressed by his gallantry.

But Benedict"s gaze wandered back to Vivienne and Exington. He observed them dancing together, feeling a mix of disappointment and vexation—made worse by the fact that everyone, including his mother and grandfather, seemed to notice Vivienne having the first dance with another man.

Those thirty minutes dragged on endlessly, and Benedict had downed at least four more glasses of wine, his head spinning. On the other hand, the alcohol"s influence had soon quieted his thoughts. He sat there, watching the couples move in the candlelight, their silhouettes blurring.

When the first dance finally ended, Lord Exington"s voice rang out. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you all to gather in the adjoining room for a special performance." He paused, a mischievous smile playing across his lips. "One I think you"ll find most…entertaining."

He motioned towards the doors to the lesser ballroom, where a stage had been set up with chairs arranged before it. The walls here, too, were adorned with candles, casting a moody glow.

Exington continued, "Please, make yourselves comfortable. The show is about to begin."

Benedict felt quite drunk as he followed the guests and took a seat in the back row. His head was spinning lightly, his mind utterly blank.

Suddenly, someone sat in the vacant seat beside him. Benedict glanced over—it was Vivienne. Without so much as a look in his direction, she took out her fan and waved it at herself, cheeks flushed from the dance, hair somewhat tousled. For a moment, an awkward silence hung between them.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" Benedict said quietly so only she could hear, unable to mask the venom in his voice.

"And why shouldn"t I be?" Vivienne replied evenly, turning to face him.

Benedict smirked. "I don"t know. I thought I was the one who hired you, not Exington. But maybe I"m mistaken."

Vivienne paused for a moment, and Benedict felt the weight of her piercing gaze, though he didn"t meet it.

"It"s not my fault you lack the nerve to ask for a dance, even from a woman you"ve paid to admire you," Vivienne whispered harshly, staring straight ahead.

The remark stung Benedict despite his drunken state.

"Did I truly have a chance to ask?" he replied sarcastically. "You"ve practically ignored me. And I hired you to play a role, not flirt shamelessly with every man Victor wants to fuck." As soon as those angry words left Benedict"s lips, with the last one savored bitterly on his tongue, Vivienne abruptly stood up.

"If you want to have it out, let"s do it," she said, and when he looked at her, he saw real anger in her eyes. "But not here."

Benedict opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment, Lord Exington rose from his front-row seat, calling for the guests" attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present "The Deception of Lord Richman"—a short play intertwined with love…and enigma." He chuckled, took a theatrical bow, and settled back as the crowd applauded.

Having no other choice, Vivienne stiffly reclaimed her seat, leaning as far from Benedict as the chair allowed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wrap her arms around herself as if warding off a chill and felt an odd satisfaction.

Now that everyone was seated, anticipation hung thick in the air. A footman removed a covering from the stage wall, revealing a backdrop depicting a grand estate. The room instantly fell into a deep hush. Guests leaned forward in their seats, their breaths bated. After what seemed like an eternity, the side door into the ballroom creaked open, allowing three figures to emerge unhurriedly. Two of them, in particular, commanded the audience"s attention. They appeared to be actors—one, a man exuding the elegance of a young nobleman in his tailored coat and polished boots; the other, a woman moving with quiet grace, her shimmering gown flowing around her, her face obscured by a veil.

As the two took center stage, a narrator dressed as a butler joined them.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he intoned to the assembly, "before you unfolds a tale that might echo Romeo and Juliet"s. Here are our star-crossed lovers, Lilian and James. Their passion runs fierce, their affection deep. Yet unlike our famed Veronese lovers, mysteries still veil the true nature of their bond."

With a bow, the narrator exited.

James approached Lilian bearing a bouquet of red roses. Lilian sat on the edge of the stage, her face covered by a thick veil.

Offering the roses, James said, "When I"m around you, my heart feels trapped, beating against invisible bars. These roses are for you, my dear Lilian, but they cannot convey how deeply I feel for you. Will you marry me?"

She lightly touched the roses with her fingertips but then turned her face away.

"Don"t you love me?" He knelt before her, a single tear running down his cheek. "If that"s the case, I swear I"ll come by every day, telling you how I feel until you love me back."

Lilian shook her head. "It"s not about love, James."

"Then what"s keeping us apart?"

She sighed and turned away. "We just can"t be together."

Benedict"s gaze wandered around the room, once again landing on Exington. Was this the "performance" he had mentioned? Just a regular play? Had he changed his mind about inviting the drag queens?

Meanwhile, the play went on. James" frustration grew as he asked, "Is it our families objecting? If so, I"ll talk to them every single day about how much I love you until they give us their blessing."

Lilian shook her head. "It"s not our parents, James."

"Is there another man?" he demanded. "Because if there is, I"ll confront him every day until you"re free to be with me!"

But Lilian said quietly, "I"m not bound to anyone else."

Growing more exasperated, James continued, "Well then, what is it that"s keeping us apart?"

She replied, "The truth isn"t easy to share."

"Is it my appearance? My character?" James asked hesitantly. "Because I"ll work tirelessly to change however you wish."

Laughter echoed through the room, but Lilian replied gravely, "I want you just as you are, James. But there's another thing."

Silence hung in the air.

"Then what could it possibly be?" James pleaded, his voice thick with despair.

Lilian sighed. "Very well then. I can no longer hide it, but you must promise this won"t put you off."

James furrowed his brow. "Whatever it is, I vow it won"t change how I feel."

"Here it goes." With another sigh, Lilian lifted her veil.

A roar of laughter exploded through the room as she revealed a rugged, bearded face caked with makeup.

An icy chill slithered down Benedict"s spine. As the guests howled with amusement, applauding the actors who took their bows, he remained frozen in his seat, gripped by a sickening realization.

This entire farce was a cruel joke meant for him. Somehow, Lord Exington must have discovered the true nature of Benedict"s relationship with Vivienne and orchestrated this play to publicly mock and shame him. His gaze shifted to Lady Hawthorne sitting in the front row. Had she uncovered their secret? Was this her way of humiliating him?

As soon as the actors left the lesser ballroom, the guests began rising from their seats and moving back to the grand ballroom, a cheerful hum of conversation growing. When Vivienne stood up as well, Benedict followed and caught her by the elbow.

"I need to speak with you," he said as she shot him a spiteful glance over her shoulder.

"Fine," she replied coldly and proceeded towards the doors.

Amidst the lively commotion, they slipped out unnoticed into the hallway. Servants hurried past, making it less than ideal for a conversation. Without a word, Benedict made his way towards the library, Vivienne trailing behind him.

As he pushed open the heavy doors into the silent room, Benedict felt his dizziness intensify. He turned to face Vivienne, who stood with her arms crossed, watching him intently.

Her face was unreadable as she said, "Care to apologize?"

Benedict"s head pounded from the effects of the alcohol and his pent-up emotions. A sudden thought struck him—was Vivienne involved? Was this her twisted way of gauging the reactions of his friends and family or testing just how oblivious high society could truly be to their secret?

"Did you tell him?" Benedict said, feeling a chill spread through his chest.

"Tell whom what?" Vivienne's expression was almost bored. "You"ll need to be more specific, Mr. Blackmoor. I"m afraid I"m not following."

"Exington," Benedict said through gritted teeth. "About us."

"Why would I do that?" Vivienne replied, her lips curling slightly though her smile held no warmth.

"The play. It was about us. Didn't you notice?"

"Oh, that," Vivienne said, as if just realizing. "The resemblance was indeed uncanny."

"Is this a joke to you?" Benedict demanded, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, I found it quite amusing," Vivienne sneered.

"So it was you," Benedict accused. "You told Exington about our arrangement."

"I never said that." Vivienne snapped back. "But it"s telling how eager you are to blame me."

"We had an agreement," Benedict said, his voice thick with barely restrained anger. "You were meant to act as my love interest, not participate in this mockery."

"I am acting," Vivienne shot back, her chin raised. "But how can one feign affection for a man who has no grasp of the concept? If this whole charade fails, it"s clearly on you." And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

For a few long seconds, Benedict stood unmoving, his temples throbbing. But by the time he decided to go after her, it was too late—Vivienne had already slipped back into the grand ballroom. As Benedict followed in, he saw Vivienne already engaged in conversation with Percy, Beatrice, and Emily Ashcroft.

Benedict scowled in frustration and took an empty seat at one of the round tables in the corner of the ballroom. A footman approached, offering more wine, and Benedict accepted two glasses from the tray. He knew it would probably be best for him to stop drinking, but he didn"t know how else he could endure this evening.

Benedict sighed. It was only then that he noticed Charlotte sitting opposite him, with a lone candle lit between them. She had two plates full of food before her and was eating as if she hadn"t had a meal in days.

"Did you catch the play?" Benedict asked, seeking to break the awkward silence.

"What play?" Charlotte replied, her faux-French accent gone. She had a turkey drumstick grasped in each hand, her mouth glistening with grease.

Benedict realized she must have stayed here the entire time, engrossed in her meal. He didn"t pursue it further and quickly drained one of his glasses. He watched as Charlotte proceeded to devour quail eggs and stuffed mushrooms with her hands, utterly engrossed in the process. It was difficult to look away, akin to witnessing a gruesome accident.

Catching Benedict"s stare, Charlotte said, "You should try the mushrooms," nudging her plate towards him with a greasy hand. "They"re divine."

"No, thank you," Benedict said, his appetite now completely gone. "Maybe later."

"There might not be a "later"," Charlotte mumbled between bites.

Benedict leaned back in his chair, his attention caught by a singer in a flowing gown. She stood at the far end of the room with the other musicians, singing a slow, melancholy song. Her voice filled the space as Benedict pondered if she was another one of the drag queens Lord Exington had mentioned.

Guests mingled, some pairing off to dance while others meandered towards the snack tables. Out of the corner of his eye, Benedict saw Lord Exington approach Vivienne. She took his hand gracefully and allowed him to lead her into another dance.

A knot tightened in Benedict"s stomach. He contemplated leaving immediately and heading home, but since his whole family had arrived in one carriage, he considered walking back. As if on cue, Benedict"s Grandfather Henry took the vacant seat beside him.

He smiled politely at Charlotte, "Are you enjoying the evening, Miss Chapeau?"

Charlotte glanced up from her plate, momentarily caught off guard like a wild animal caught rummaging through the trash. "Uhm," she mumbled through a mouthful, then added with her exaggerated French accent, "Ze food iz delicious."

"Good to hear," Grandfather Henry said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He then shifted his gaze to Benedict, the real reason for joining them, and asked, "Why aren"t you dancing, Benedict? Is your leg bothering you?"

"My leg is fine," Benedict said, knowing what would follow. "I"m just not in the mood."

"Young Lord Exington seems quite taken with Miss LaFleur," Grandfather Henry continued, throwing a meaningful glance towards the dancers.

"So it would seem," Benedict replied distantly.

He had nothing else to say. Deep down, he had already accepted defeat. He wouldn"t grant his grandfather"s wish. His secret was out, and it was only a matter of time before his childish attempt to hide his true self became a public scandal.

Grandfather Henry studied him intently as if trying to read his thoughts, but Benedict"s drunken state had dulled his emotions, his face expressionless. For a few minutes, silence stretched between them.

Suddenly, Grandfather Henry placed his hand on Benedict"s and said, "For the first time, I see someone bringing true joy to your life. Don"t let them slip through your fingers."

"I may have already spoiled everything," Benedict said defeatedly.

Grandfather Henry smiled at him. "I"m sure it"s nothing that cannot be undone." He paused before adding, "I know you struggle with accepting your feelings, Benedict. In that, you and I are alike. But one thing I"ve learned over the years—don"t waste precious time. If someone makes you happy, make your intentions clear. Otherwise, you may lose them forever."

"I don"t think I can," Benedict said, looking away. And in that, he was honest.

Grandfather Henry chuckled. "There"s no need for grand gestures. Just ask her for the next dance."

Benedict nodded, and Grandfather Henry patted his hand before rising to leave him…well, not completely alone. As soon as Grandfather Henry left, Charlotte, who had witnessed their entire exchange, looked at Benedict with wide eyes.

"Wait, you know she"s not actually a woman, right?" she said, confusion etched on her face as her accent dropped. "You"re not in love with Victor, are you? You're not—"

"If you breathe a word of what you"ve heard to him, I promise I will personally deliver Lord Winchester to The Shiny Clam," Benedict threatened calmly.

For a moment, horror flashed across Charlotte"s face before she said, "I"ll be as silent as the grave."

"Good," Benedict replied.

He approached Vivienne just as the song ended and her dance with Lord Exington concluded. For a moment, Exington"s hands lingered on her waist, clearly reluctant to let her go.

Not missing a beat, Benedict stepped in, "May I have the next dance?"

Vivienne looked at him, her eyes shadowed with anger. But there were too many eyes watching them, so after a long beat, she nodded. Exington shot Benedict a piercing look.

"I trust you found the performance entertaining, Mr. Blackmoor?" he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Benedict smiled thinly, his tone lacking any genuine warmth as he said, "Certainly, Lord Exington. While I"ve seen more captivating acts at country fairs, tonight"s effort is commendable."

Lord Exington laughed. "You"re a funny man, Blackmoor. I find myself liking you more each day. You simply must dine with me soon."

"If you wish," Benedict said indifferently, the alcohol making him impervious to any teasing in the invitation.

As he watched Exington go, Benedict wondered why the lord seemed so engrossed with Vivienne, if he knew the truth about her real identity. Something didn"t add up. But he didn"t have time to ponder it as the music began.

Benedict stepped towards Vivienne and wrapped his arms around her, but her body was stiff, resisting. She rested her hand on his shoulder, a distant look in her eyes. Benedict pulled her closer until their bodies were flush, his skin buzzing at the touch.

As they swayed to the music, he felt like they were the only two people in the room despite all the other couples dancing around them in the soft candlelight.

For the first few minutes, they danced in tense silence.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" Benedict finally said, catching Vivienne"s gaze.

"That depends," Vivienne said coldly. "Are you going to apologize?"

Benedict frowned. "I have nothing to apologize for. I don"t know what"s going on between you and Exington, but it"s getting a little too obvious."

Vivienne smirked, her voice dripping with venom. "And what do you think is happening? Some conspiracy against you?"

"How should I know?" Benedict snarled. "What, you expect me to believe he came up with that play by coincidence? And meanwhile, you"re parading around with him, dancing and flirting—"

"I didn"t tell him anything," Vivienne cut him off. "And I didn"t seek his attention. It's just that, unlike you, he knows what he wants. And if you"re jealous, just say so."

"Why would I be jealous?" Benedict lied, unable to contain his anger. "I don"t care who you sleep with. But I pay you to play a role, not fuck every lord in my neighborhood."

Their eyes met, and at that moment, Benedict didn"t see Vivienne—he saw Victor"s eyes, angry and hurt, staring back at him. A wave of regret washed over him at his callous words.

For a second, Benedict thought Vivienne would slap him, but she didn't. She blinked and wrenched herself from his grip. "I"m done," she said, tears glistening in her eyes. Without another word, she turned on her heel and ran, disappearing behind the ballroom doors.

Benedict stood motionless, the music and laughter fading into a dull roar around him as he watched her go, his heart pounding. What had he done?