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“Good.” Benedict exhaled, forcing himself to relax. “Now, let us eat. I am sure my wife is looking forward to seeing you again.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“… I
could not believe what she was doing.” Benedict chuckled merrily. “I mean, what was I supposed to think? There she was, my wife, swimming through the darn stream to save a puppy of all things!”
He took Selina’s hand and squeezed it. He looked into her eyes, silently urging her to go along with his story.
“How amusing,” Edmund mused as he cut into the shank of rare meat on his plate. “And then what happened?”
“The poor puppy was trapped, of course,” Benedict continued, still holding Selina’s hand. She felt the urge to pull it away but did no such thing, as it would have dramatically undercut the theme of the story that he was selling. “And once Selina had reached it, she became trapped also.”
“Is that so?” Edmund asked simply.
“As for myself? I was on the shore, having begged her not to go in. I was about to go in myself, but Selina…” Benedict clicked his tongue and chuckled further. “She is nothing if not rambunctious. She dived in before I could remove so much as a single boot, leaving me to scramble in after her.”
“So, you came to the rescue?” Edmund asked dryly as he nibbled on the piece of meat. “How gallant.”
“What choice did I have?” Benedict continued. He kissed the back of Selina’s hand, and it was all she could do not to glare at him. “I waded in after her and the poor little puppy. Then I tucked it under my arms, threw Selina on my back, and swam us back to the shore.”
“And the puppy?”
“Safe and sound, if not a little wet,” Benedict explained with delight. “We gave it to the stablehands, and the last I checked, it is doing well.” He looked to Selina for confirmation.
She forced a smile. “I was playing with him earlier. They named him Charlie.”
“Wonderful,” Benedict said. “Anyhow, it was quite the event. That entire day…” He shook his head with amusement. “We still laugh about it, don’t we, Selina?”
Selina looked at him with a deadpan expression, hoping he could sense in her tone how unhappy she was. “Almost every night.”
Benedict either did not notice her mood or was choosing to ignore it. He laughed further and kissed the back of her hand once more. “All that is to say, it has been an eventful few months. The stories I could tell you, Edmund…” He sighed wistfully as he reached for his wine glass and took a sip.
“It sounds like I have missed much.” Edmund looked between the two, no sense at all that he was buying his brother’s story. “And it sounds like the two of you are very happy.”
“We are,” Benedict declared. “Is that not right, Selina?”
“Blessed,” Selina uttered in that same deadpan tone. “I count my blessings every day.”
Benedict continued to smile as he released her hand so that he could cut into the meat on his plate. He chuckled to himself as he did so, happy to ignore the strange atmosphere in the room. One that he was very much responsible for creating.
It was all so fake. From the moment Selina had walked into the dining room, everything about this evening had felt orchestrated and performed in a way that went beyond even those three days that her mother and sisters had stayed over.
It was so darn dishonest that it made her feel sick.
At first, Selina had assumed that Benedict was acting that way because he was worried about how she might receive his brother. As if she would still be angry that Edmund had left her the way he had and that she would take it out on him. But she was not angry, and she made sure to let him know that.
“Oh, there he is,” she had joked when she had arrived. “The elusive brother. I hardly recognized you without the hangover. And the bad bedside manner.”
Edmund, to his credit, had laughed it off. “I suppose I owe you an apology. If for no other reason than saddling you with my brother.”
“It would be appreciated.” She had chuckled. “He is not easy to live with, which I am sure you know.”
To this, Edmund had actually looked somewhat impressed, as if he was surprised that she would be so honest. He had smiled and appeared relieved, about to respond with what was likely a joke before Benedict interjected.
“She jests, Edmund. She just jests.” Benedict had then wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in, kissing her on the cheek and beaming more than she had ever seen him do. “The truth is, we should be thanking you in many ways. Your cowardice was our good fortune. Isn’t that right, Selina?”
She had frowned at him in confusion, and he had given her a look that seemed to say,Just go along with it, please.Which she had done, to her regret.
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