Benvolio & Mercutio Turn Back Time by Elle Beaumont & Elle Beaumont

Author:Elle Beaumont & Elle Beaumont
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Midnight Tide Publishing

By the time they arrived at the Montague manor, Romeo wasn't home. His mother was outside, cutting a few fresh flowers for herself. The sun haloed her warm brown hair, which was kept back in a crown braid. Benvolio’s heart sank. His dear aunt would be beside herself . . .

“Benvolio, my sweet. You should come to dinner tomorrow evening, we haven’t had the pleasure of your company in some time. I miss seeing your face around here.” Lady Montague smiled at him as she arranged her bouquet.

In his younger years, he had frequently stayed at his cousin’s house. Since they were like brothers, they spent nearly every day together. As they had grown up and life pulled them in differing directions, he didn’t visit as much as he would have liked but still saw his cousin often.

“I’m sorry. It has been a while. I’ll have to amend that.” He offered a tight smile, then glanced at Mercutio, who nearly vibrated with tension. Somehow, his aunt seemed oblivious. “Romeo didn’t say where he was off to?”

“No, I’m afraid not. He’s been so aloof lately.”

Hardly. His focus was on Juliet, and Benvolio knew exactly what that felt like. He’d been so consumed with his own feelings and selfish needs that he had let this happen.

“Thank you, my dear aunt. I will see you at supper soon?” She nodded her head at this, and then Benvolio strode over to his parked car to prime it. “I fucking hate this thing,” he grumbled. “It’s so damn slow.” Once it was ready, he pulled out of the drive and onto the avenue.

Mercutio didn’t seem to hear him. “Do you think he would be at the friar’s?” he offered, drumming his fingers on his thighs in a manner that screamed anxiety. Benvolio felt it too and reached over to squeeze Mercy’s fidgeting hand. For a beat, it stilled him.

“I had considered that.” If Romeo wanted an unbiased opinion—although, how unbiased was the man who’d officiated the marriage—perhaps that was exactly who his cousin would seek out. A man of the cloth, one who could mentor him in a way.

“Damn it all!” Mercutio cursed under his breath. Gone was the light from his gaze. And now that Benvolio was truly looking at him, it hadn’t been there since they'd returned, had it? “Tybalt doesn't even realize what he's doing.”

“No, he does.” Benvolio turned onto the street leading toward the church. “Tybalt boils over easily, but he’s not a fool. He has waited for an excuse, even the smallest slight, to do this.”

Benvolio’s jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “What matters is that we find Romeo.”

They rounded the corner on the street, and the cathedral came into view. A structure of gray stone towered over the surrounding buildings, the façade heavily adorned with intricate carvings of flora, and cherubs were hidden in smaller pieces.

Benvolio parked the car, and together, he and Mercutio walked briskly to the grand entrance.

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