Much Ado about the Shrew (17 page)

           
Ben smiled. "Well, then,
perhaps we will just have to practice," he suggested.

           
"Practice not fighting?"
Bee's eyebrows furrowed again.

           
"If you wish," Ben smiled.
"Or, I could suggest that Norton was right about novels."

           
Bee sat up straight. "Oh, that
idiot!" she said harshly. "He knows a few lines of Byron and expects
every woman he sees to fawn at his feet."

           
Ben did not answer right away, but
concentrated on driving his team around a tight corner. “So then, tell me,” he
said patiently. “Why you are right and he is wrong.”

           
Bee sat rigidly next to him, quiet
for several moments, then finally exhaled a breath. “Oh, fine, then. I enjoy
getting lost in a novel. I don’t
want
to have to interpret every word a poet says all the time. I just want to read a
story and know that, in the end, all will be well.”

           
Ben furrowed his eyebrows. “So all
novels end happily, do they?”

           
Bee was silent for a moment,
contemplating. “No,” she said slowly. “Some of them end quite tragically,
actually.
 
I was reading a novel that Julia
gave me the other day with a miscreant monk, and-"

           
Ben laughed suddenly. “A miscreant
monk?” he teased, stealing a peek at Bee.

           
Bee smiled and gave a slight
chuckle. “Yes, I know, it sounds terrible. But it was so engaging, I could
not
put it down. I finished reading the
last chapter while my maid was dressing me last night!”

           
“I cannot imagine a book where
miscreant monks are engaging,” Ben mused, smiling to himself. Her eyes were
sparkling grey.

           
Bee rolled the sparkling eyes. “Oh,
now you sound like Norton again,” she grumbled.

"You seemed to be in a rather
intimate discussion with him this afternoon," he said, cursing himself
after he spoke as he noted the jealous undertones in his voice.

           
"Oh, you men are all the
same," Bee huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

           
Ben was not above taking a small
peek at her chest as it was puffed up. It was probably wrong of him.
"Never say you'd compare me with Norton," he frowned.

           
"Why not?" Bee asked,
tossing her head. "You both think you're right about everything."

           
Ben frowned, annoyed that the
conversation had them arguing again, although he wasn’t sure exactly how to
change its direction.
 
His horses seemed
to sense his mood, and shied to the left, and Ben had to focus to get them
straight back onto the road. Ben pursed his lips and slowed his team to a walk,
guiding them towards an empty area of the park. He stopped them by a tree and
hopped out of the curricle, tying one to a low branch.
 
His horses would probably just stand there
unattended, anyway, he figured, but it would be best to at least make them
think they couldn’t just wander off.

           
"Ben! Where are you
going?" Bee asked, leaning over his side, then leaning over on her side as
he came around to her. "Ben! Why did you stop? Eek!" she exclaimed as
Ben lifted her up and out of the curricle, then proceeded to drag her to the
other side of the tree once she had her feet underneath her. "Ben! What
are you doing?" she asked again.

           
Instead of answering her, Ben pulled
her against the other side of the tree, glancing around to ensure there was no
one in sight. Under the shade of the tree, they were unlikely to be spotted
immediately, and if they were, well- he didn't need any more scandal raining
down on him or Bee, but he
did
have
honorable intentions, after all.

           
"Remember when I put you in the
curricle, and I said I would take my revenge in other ways?" he asked.

           
Bee swallowed and looked up at him
as he caged her against the tree, his hands on either side of her.
"Ben," she said softly, and placed her hands against his jacket, but
did not push him away.

           
"Revenge is sweet," he
murmured, leaning his head down and kissing her gently. The lavender scent
seemed to permeate his senses, and he found himself dragging Bee into his arms,
shifting their weight and turning so he was leaning against the tree and she
was standing between his legs. "Bee, oh, Bee," he murmured, his hands
wandering up to her breasts, lightly squeezing one and pinching the nipple with
his fingers. Bee moaned and Ben kissed her hungrily, as if he were hungry, and
indeed he felt like he was starving. He wasn't sure when it happened, but
somehow he knew that he needed this woman.
 
For now and for the rest of his life.

           
That thought should have terrified
him, but instead he found himself filled with a giddy sort of happiness.
Breaking the kiss, he nipped at Bee's ear, and she gave a little shriek and a
giggle. "Ben!" she tried to chastise him, but it came out breathy,
and he smiled. "I hope in this, at least, you'll agree I'm always right,"
he murmured.

           
Bee just whimpered and Ben captured
her lips again, teasing her with this lips and tongue for a moment before
pulling back and watching her eyelashes flit open. She stared dreamily up at
him and he gave her a light peck on the mouth. "I've finally found a way
to keep you quiet," he smiled.

           
"Hmm?" Bee asked dreamily,
lightly caressing his cheek.

           
Ben gently pressed his lips against
hers, breathing deeply of her scent. He regretfully drew back.

           
“Bee?”

           
“
Mmm
?”
Bee’s head was tilted slightly and a faint smile graced her flushed face. Her
lips were swollen from being thoroughly kissed, and Ben ached to bend over and
kiss her again.

           
“Bee?” Ben asked again, framing her
face in his hands, smoothing her eyebrows with his thumbs. Dear God, she was
gorgeous. How lucky was he to have fallen in love with a beautiful woman?
 
A memory niggled at him at that thought, but
he pushed it away.

           
“Bee?” he asked again, and this time
her eyes fluttered open. “Ben,” she said, smiling.

           
Ben felt her smile to the tip of his
toes, and he couldn’t help but touch his lips to hers again. God, she tasted
wonderful. He found himself getting lost in the kiss again, when the small part
of his brain that was working heard his horses shift nervously next to them.

           
Ben lifted his head again. “We
should probably be getting back,” he murmured.

           
Bee merely moaned softly, burrowing
her head in his chest.
 
Ben caressed her
back lightly, looking out onto the park.
 
He saw a blur of a phaeton go past without slowing; he knew they were
still safe from prying eyes, but it would be best if they did not tempt fate
any longer.

           
“Come on, pet,” he encouraged. “We
need to get you back so you have enough time to prepare for dinner this
evening.”

           
Bee released a deep breath and
looked up at him, her eyes searching his. He gently pressed his lips to hers,
but drew them away quickly. “You are a vixen,” he breathed into her ear,
delighting when he felt her shudder slightly in his arms.

           
“Ben,” Bee murmured, “we can’t keep
doing this.”

“You’re right,” he answered, kissing her
forehead as he drew her back to the curricle. “We do need to get you back,” he
reminded her.

“That’s
not what I meant,” Bee whispered as he lifted her up onto her seat.
 

Ben looked at her with narrowed eyes,
assessing her. Certainly the chit wasn’t going to refuse him! No, no, he told
himself. She was just confused. He had yet to declare himself, after all! No,
once he asked for her hand, she would understand. She might be a little puzzled,
and certainly he was himself, but there was no doubting that they had a
physical attraction.
 
Even if she didn’t
love him….

Ben stopped that thought immediately. No
reason to insert more doubt into his mind- he already had enough doubt of his
own to contend with. Whatever arguments she might broach he would counter with
his own.
 
And if he didn’t have one,
well, he thought as he hopped up onto the seat next to the woman he loved, he
would just kiss her until she agreed with him.
 
Yes, an excellent plan! Pity more men hadn’t thought of doing just that;
marriages might just be more amiable that way.

           
Ben tried to erase the smile that
had permanently plastered itself to his face, but it was an impossible task.
His heart was light and he didn't really care if he was grinning like an idiot;
he was happy for the first time in years, and damn anyone who would take that
from him. He turned and gave a quick glance to Bee, whose head was turned away
from his. Manipulating the reins into his left hand, he grasped her hand with
his right, and she quickly looked down, then up at him, her lips fighting
against a smile of her own. Ben winked at her and gave her a quick peck on the
lips before releasing her hand.

           
"Ben!" she said, blushing
a vivid pink.

           
"Hmm?"

           
"What if someone had
seen?"

           
"Had seen what, pet?" Ben
asked, slowing his team down to maneuver through two carriages.

           
"You kissing me!" Bee
whispered.

           
"You want me to kiss you?"
Ben asked innocently. He sighed deeply. "Very well," he said, and
leaned over and gave her another peck, this one to her cheek.

           
"Ben!" Be admonished,
looking around wildly.

           
"I'm sorry, pet, but you're
going to have to stop asking. I can't keep kissing you like this in
public," Ben told her, that stupid smile still attached. “It’s quite
unseemly.”

           
Bee pursed her lips and tried to
glare at Ben, but one look at his face and she broke out laughing. "Oh,
you," she said, and lightly hit him with her reticule.

           
Ben laughed along with her and
smiled the entire way back to her house.

           
Ben found his smile slipping later
that afternoon as he sat in his father’s study, rifling through the papers that
seemed to have amassed there.
 
He
supposed this was what his life truly would be now; reviewing accounts, meeting
with his steward and preparing his sons for the same.
 
His heart froze in his chest. His sons. Would
they have his chestnut hair, or Bee’s wild, red locks? Either way, he decided
right then and there, he would treat all of his children with love, even his
daughters.
 
He smiled vaguely at the
thought of a little miniature Bee, running up to him in a pink dress, her
little eyes sparkling with mischief.
 
Yes, he would ensure that his children never felt the censure he felt
from his father for the sin of not being the first-born.

The ride with Bee seemed so far away now
that he was in his family’s house, preparing for, well, for the rest of his
life. But first things first, he reminded himself of his task he had set forth
this morning: he needed to hire a valet. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to
hire a bloody valet in the first place. Who should he ask? Did he go to an
agency? Ben rubbed his head, which had begun to ache, and got up from his desk
to search for Simmons for advice
.

“You were looking for me,
m’lord
?” Simmons said.

Ben looked up quickly to see Simmons
standing near the door to the study. How the devil did the man do that? "Simmons,
I, uh... I'm going to need to hire a valet.
 
Can you take care of that?"

           
Simmons quirked an eyebrow.
"Mr. Chambers is in your room unpacking your belongings now. Did you wish
me to hire someone else?" he
drolled
.

           
Ben blinked. "Chambers? Who is
Chambers?"

           
"Your valet,
m'lord
," Simmons said as if he were talking to a young
child.

           
Ben shook his head. "Wait.
What? You hired a valet for me?"

           
"He comes highly recommended,
m'lord
, if that is your concern."

           
"Um, no," Ben said.
"I just wasn't... um... you moved my belongings? From my apartments?"

           
"Your mother said you would be
taking up residence here," Simmons said. "It seemed appropriate. I
apologize if I have overstepped."

           
Ben frowned. Simmons didn't look
apologetic. Of course, Simmons had just done exactly what Ben was going to ask
him to do, although somehow it was disconcerting that it was taken care of
before he even knew to ask the question.

           
"You are a remarkable butler,
you know that, Simmons?" Ben told him.

           
"That has often been stated,
m'lord
," Simmons said reverently, but was obviously
unimpressed.

           
"All right, then, Simmons, I
suppose I should meet my new valet."

           
"Very well, then,
m'lord
," Simmons sketched a very proper bow, and
slipped out the door.
 
Ben sighed and ran
his hand through his hair, absently wondering if his valet could possibly give
him a trim before dinner.
 
Curiosity
abounding as to who Simmons might hire for him as a valet, he bounded up the
stairs to his room, only to find it empty of all of his personal belongings. He
frowned, turned around, and was on his way to find Simmons again when he spied
footmen carrying furniture out of his mother's bedroom.

           
"Mother," he said
cautiously, lest she conscript him for duty as well. "Why are you moving
the furniture? And do you know why my room is empty?"

           
His mother stopped directing the
tired footmen for a moment. "Oh, my dear, there you are," she said
smiling. "Your Mr. Chambers is right next door- you can use the door,
there."

           
Ben was halfway across the room when
he stopped, realization hitting him. "Mother, why is Mr. Chambers in
Father's room?" he said quietly.

           
"Oh, Ben, you have to stop
calling it that," she said. "It's just a room. And when you’re
married, you’ll want the adjoining rooms."

           
“What?” Ben’s heart gripped. “I…
what
?”

           
But his mother seemed not to have
heard him. “Oh, do be careful with that,” she warned a footman who was carrying
a small vase.

           
“Mother!” Ben said.

           
“Ben, I’ve been quite patient with
you, but it’s time you moved back home.”

           
“I’ve only been back in London a few
weeks!”

           
“And you’ve spent as much time here
as at your apartments,” his mother reminded him. “Now,” she said, patting his
cheek, “I want to make sure that everything is settled into my new room before
dinner.
 
Have you had tea yet, my dear?”

           
Ben blinked. “Um… no, not… yet.”

           
“Then I will meet you in the yellow
parlor in, say ten minutes,” she told him.

           
"I don't want to move you out
of your chambers," Ben said quickly, trying to figure out how his hold on
his life was slipping so rapidly.

           
"Oh, posh!" his mother
exclaimed, waving a hand. "Besides, I always wanted to move to the east
side of the house, anyway, as I enjoy breakfasting in my room."

           
"But, Mother," Ben
started.

           
"No, Benedick," his mother
said, pulling him aside, "I know things have been difficult with the war
and your father and brother dying at the same time. I know you were not
expecting this, and God knows your father was not overly attentive to you, but
you are the Earl whether you wish it or not. It's time you started acting like
it." She spoke in low tones so the footmen could not hear, although Ben
could see out of the corner of his eye that they were trying to overhear the
set-down he was receiving. He gave them an icy glare, and they quickly gathered
up the last chair and left the room.

           
"I apologize, Mother," Ben
said, looking down at her. "I have never welcomed the title, as you are
aware, but I know this has been difficult for you, as well."

           
His mother reached up and smoothed
Ben's coat lapels. "You will make a fine Earl, my dear," she said.
"Now, go meet your valet. Dinner will be served at eight."

           
Ben gave a mock salute, then winked
and watched as his mother left the room, trailing after a footman who had come
back for an errant box.
 
He wondered if
he should do something to decorate the room, or if that was something Bee would
like to do. He imagined her lying on a counterpane of dark green and gave a
little smile. Then he realized that he was most likely conceived on that same
bed and gave a little shiver. Dear Lord, this was going to take some getting
used to.

           
Ben entered his father's bedroom,
expecting complete chaos, but instead he found the room quiet except for a bit
of scuffling in the closet. "Hello, there?" he called out.

           
"Oh,
m'lord
!"
a short, eager young man in his mid-twenties came into the bedroom. He was
holding a boot in one hand and a cravat in the other.

           
Ben raised an eyebrow.
"Chambers, is it?"

           
"What? Oh, yes,
m'lord
!" Chambers said.

           
"Are you polishing my boots
with my cravats?"

           
"What? Oh, no,
m'lord
!" Chambers said, looking at him in horror.

           
Ben waited for Chambers to say
something else, but when he didn't, he added. "I would like to get a few
things straight, before we begin?" he left it as a question, but Chambers
merely swallowed loudly, so Ben continued, "I will let you know if I need
to awake early; otherwise, please wait to bring in my morning tray until I
arise on my own. I prefer coffee to tea in the mornings, and as my mother is
having her breakfast in her room, I would prefer just an egg and toast on a
tray as opposed to going down for breakfast. As you can see from my clothes, I
dress simply, but well, and I do not suffer the new fashions. I will not be
decked out like a dandy, and I had better not see a waistcoat that is pink,
yellow or any other outrageous color." Ben breathed, and noticed Chambers
had gone a little pale, but had not run screaming from the room, so he finished
by saying, "I have a dinner here at eight o'clock. I'm assuming as I see
the rest of my belongings, my clothes have all been moved?"

           
"Yes,
m'lord
!"
Chambers said quickly.

           
Ben forced himself not to roll his
eyes. "I think the... green waistcoat and jacket for tonight, then," he
said. "I'm assuming as Simmons hired you that you know a dozen ways to tie
a cravat, but a simple figure eight is all I want."

           
"Of course,
m'lord
,"
Chambers repeated.

           
Ben took a breath. "So, I'll
have a bath first, then, unless you can give my hair a quick trim?"

           
Chambers gave an assessing look to
Ben's hair and gave a slight nod. "Yes,
m'lord
."

           
Ben nodded, not really expecting any
other answer at this point. "Very good, Chambers, you're excused. I'll be
back in an hour to prepare for dinner."

           
"Of course,
m'lord
,"
Chambers bowed and returned to the closet.

           
Ben sighed and looked around the
room, which looked odd to him with his knickknacks interspersed around what was
still, to him, his father's bedroom. "Chambers!" he called loudly.

           
Chambers peered out from the
doorway. "Yes,
m'lord
?"

           
"I want these linens
changed.
 
The linens, drapes, everything.
The linens today- the drapes... can be done at another time. I just..." he
looked over at his father's bed. "I would like them changed," he
sighed.

           
Chambers gave a sad smile that
seemed to Ben somewhat of understanding. "Of course,
m'lord
,"
he said.

           
"Thank you, Chambers," Ben
said, and walked out of the room, wishing with a certain amount of irony, how
much he missed the war.
 
He sighed as he
made his way down to meet his mother for tea, wondering if he should be
mentally preparing himself for yet another battle. As it was, everything seemed
to broadside him lately; he would welcome a straight-out attack.

           
Taking a fortifying breath, Ben
entered the parlor to find his mother seated near the window, a book in her
hand. He wondered vaguely if it was a novel about miscreant monks, and felt a
smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

           
“Hello, Mother,” Ben said, giving
her a quick peck on the cheek she offered. “Is everything ready for this
evening?”

           
“Why, Benedick, I’ve never known you
to be so concerned about a dinner!” his mother exclaimed.

           
“I’m not,” Ben said defensively.
“Just,
er
… making conversation.” He sat and the tea
cart was wheeled in as if on cue. He was silent as his mother poured, and took
the tea she offered him. “Is it just us for tea? Where is Claudia?” he looked
expectantly to the door, waiting for his sister to walk through.

           
“Oh, she left earlier to go stay
with Lady Chester’s daughter, Helena.
 
They’re going to the opera tonight and she’ll come home tomorrow,” his
mother said. “She so had her heart set on going, Benedick. I hope you don’t
think me wrong for not making her stay.”

           
“No, no,” Ben said, shaking his
head. “You do what’s right.” Ben sighed.
 
She was off to operas now, was she? His little sister would probably be
married off soon. Ben realized that any man who would want to court his sister
would have to go to
him
for
permission.
 
He set his tea down quickly,
before he dropped it, as a wave of nausea passed over him.

           
“Benedick? Bennie? Are you alright?”
his mother asked.