It wasn't fair.

It was common knowledge that Benedict had loved you for as long as anyone could remember. When you were children, he would bring you fistfuls of flowers from his mother's garden with a beaming grin on his face. As teenagers, he would blush if you so much as glanced in his direction.

He had always been under the impression that he would marry you. That he would watch you walking down the aisle towards him. His new life partner...

So, when Anthony shared the news with the family, Benedict thought he might vomit. He had to choke it down and force a smile on his face as he watched his siblings celebrate your engagement... To his brother.

Benedict knew Anthony. He likely harboured no feelings towards you. He was just using you to get their mother off his back...

He couldn't have felt more betrayed by his older brother.

The drawing room is quiet as you sit there with Benedict, his mother, and his sisters. The dowager viscountess goes over wedding plans with you, while the girls read. Benedict attempts to sketch the bowl of biscuits on the table nearest to him, but grows increasingly frustrated as he finds his mind -- and the hand clutching his charcoal -- wandering to your beautiful features.

"Benedict?" Violet speaks up, commanding her son's attention. "Which flower do you think will compliment their complexion the most?"

That was easy. It was the flower he had gifted to you so many times.

Without looking up from his page, he mutters one word.

"Snowdrops."