Mayfair - || Burkes and Laurences

Thursday, December 27, 1923
~ 6:30 PM

---

Clink.

Roger set his glass of vintage port on the end table by the Chesterfield sofa, upon which he sat. He was a calmer man than he'd been the day he got off the S.S. Mysteria and had set foot back on British soil. Then, he'd been seeing every shade of red that had ever existed and would ever exist. The days spent at sea had done nothing to quell his anger. On the contrary, with each day that had passed, he'd only grown angrier at being dragged across the Atlantic for the sake of his daughter.

Again.

The memory of the last time her actions had forced him from his home was still burned into the back of his mind, not to be forgotten – certainly not now that she'd gone and done it again. This time, he'd been sure that he would kill her. When he'd gotten her into his study, shut the blinds and cast silencing charms over the room, Roger had felt the conviction in his bones that he would have to impregnate his wife that very holiday period and pray the gamble paid off. It was unorthodox. An heir had never been offered, accepted by the magic, then revoked, but he'd been willing to make it work.

The indignation that had followed him into that room had shaken him. In some ways, it had even startled him. It had been years. By now, Roger had believed that he and his daughter were seeing eye to eye – if only reluctantly. She calmed enough to be moulded and hadn't passed her place in any manner that would've forced his hand.

Now, she'd returned to her folly like a dog to its vomit.

One request; he'd made one request. When he allowed her to spend more time at Arundel Castle, rather than taking her across the ocean each major holiday – or himself making his way across the pond – all the man had asked was that the boy not get his daughter pregnant.

It had seemed an exceedingly simple request, one they'd both brushed off flippantly.

Here they were, a continent away while the rest of their family enjoyed a warmer holiday down in Florida.

Miserable. Perhaps only he and his second eldest were truly miserable.

Roger glanced around the sitting room, his eyes not lingering on anyone in particular. Francine sat by the fireplace with Lucy, both lost in the latest edition of Eve now that she'd but the baby down for the night. Half the presents that they'd exchanged between themselves had been inspirations from the women's magazine. Now they hunted for more treasures they might be able to spirit away with them back to New York. Roger Jr. sat on the carpet, tinkering with the model train set they'd picked up for him shortly after arriving. Ruth, obstinate girl that she was, sat away from them on the cushioned seating by the window. Those defiant mahogany eyes of hers were trained on the streets of Mayfair beyond the glass that had begun to frost.

This was the calm.

He was calm but no more thrilled than he had been when he first received the healer's letter. It had flown in the face of everything he'd so carefully tried to cultivate, and she'd had the nerve to stare him in the eyes and run that smart mouth of hers. He'd long since stopped hoping that the bruises would help her learn, but he could still take satisfaction in seeing the area of darkened skin by her collarbone and the second just under her chin.

Unfortunate accidents. Necessary...unfortunate accidents.

Roger took a slow drag of his cigar before pulling out his pocket watch to have a look. They would be arriving at any moment. James had extended an offer for them to celebrate the holidays while they were in the country. Roger had promptly but politely declined. There were matters he needed to sort out in his own household, and given the nature of the news, the man wasn't feeling particularly festive. The extra days he'd taken before the meeting were needed.

Recommended, even.

No longer contemplating filicide, he was in a much better frame of mind for them to...talk.

Snowflakes fell delicately from the puffed-up, grey clouds above. Rae watched them trickle down, nearly weightless in their decent. They littered the sidewalk outside their townhome and the paved street in between. Only the undersides of the parked cars escaped the thin white blanket's cover. Each time a car drove by, it carved itself a path in the snow. It never took long for the persistent sprinkling to cover it over, determined that everyone on their street be treated to a white Christmas.

The gifts had been exchanged, and she'd been allowed dinner with Billie on the eve of the bigger celebration, but for the first in a long time, Rae couldn't bring herself to feel the holiday cheer.

The news was no longer fresh. After sharing with Professor Barlowe and Julia, the girl had had time to sit with it. She'd had the chance to see for herself that, at least for now, nothing had changed. She still woke up for her classes, still carried out her duties, still laughed with her friends...

It was all so incredibly mundane that she managed to convince herself that perhaps it wasn't as grave as she'd first believed it to be. With every day that the sky hadn't fallen, Rae had grown a little more confident that control hadn't been completely wrestled from her and Benji.

They'd all agreed to keep the secret, a small mercy for them but a monumental difference for her. She could enter the great hall with her head held high; she could greet her professors without the worry that they were all peering into some hidden shame. It had given her the room to breathe and just...be while they figured everything else out.

Then the holidays came, and reality found her once again.

Her father had been so angry with not only her but also Billie that he'd almost forbidden her from seeing the woman at all. She couldn't say what had changed his mind but had already told herself that it didn't matter. She'd gotten a meal she'd helped her adoptive mother cook, a quiet night for just them and the hugs she'd been craving since the moment Healer Graham had given her the news. They'd talked, a real heart-to-heart that had assured her in some small way that she wasn't suddenly the stupidest girl on the planet.

Everything after that...? Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time she'd been forced to face the consequences of her actions. Her jaw no longer hurt unless she touched it. Most of the other aches were only an inconvenient memory for the girl who'd made a point of walking around the townhouse as if nothing were wrong.

She'd already resolved not to give her stepmother and step-sister the satisfaction of knowing how humiliated she actually was. As far as they knew, she was as proud and as irreverent as ever.

Francine and Lucy were the last people she would ever allow to see her cry.

The noise by the fireplace finally forced her attention back into the room. The whooshing sound as the fireplace roared to life alerted the room to the fact that their guests were arriving.

Rae felt her heart drop. She was genuinely thrilled to know she would be seeing Benji...but had been dreading the meeting since it was first announced. It was easy to be cavalier when she could slip from the spotlight with relative ease. This meeting would be about her, about them, and about the life growing inside her. Attention was all she would have when every hidden desire still wanted her to disappear.

She swallowed roughly, turning and rising from the cushioned window seating just as the first of them began to arrive. Immediately, she was searching for Benji, eager for him to step from the green flames and join her in the purgatory forced upon her from the moment her father had picked her up.

The crises were never-ending.

When one battle concluded, another began. Another set of strategies needed to be formed, another solution. James Laurence was far past his patience when it came to his family and their antics, behaving as though they didn't know who they were or what they represented. Perhaps some of it was his fault. He'd been too lenient. Too understanding. Too willing to let them live their lives so long as they weren't hurting anyone.

He'd been a fool. His father had had the right of it all along, able to keep every last one of them, immediate or extended, under his hard thumb. No one ran. No one murdered - without the family's buy-in. No one embarrassed the name or shamed the lot of them with their impropriety.

No one impregnated their betrothed when they were only seventeen and had their entire future ahead of them.

When Maddox and Julia had sat Benji down in front of James and forced him to explain what he had done, James had felt the last of his empathy for the wayward boy soar right out the proverbial window. Benji had been given chance after chance. He'd been given grace and understanding, not just because he was a beloved nephew, but because there was a knowing that at his core, he wasn't really one of them. Not in the way a child born under the Laurence name was.

Benji hadn't been raised from infancy to understand their world and the mechanisms that drove it. He hadn't felt the pressure of the family name from his very first memories. He was a boy from the wrong side of London who had been plucked from obscurity by his sister whose heart was sometimes too big for her own good. It wasn't to say that James had any regrets about Benji or Kathryn joining their family. He cared for them as much as Adira and Jude, but there was an urgency now, one he'd already explained to Amelia.

They needed a son. Soon.

Even if Benji were removed from the line of succession, that left two options. Jude Barlowe, first. A boy he could certainly mold and raise, but would carry Maddox's last name, as would all the descendants henceforth. James wasn't the type of man to demand a father allow his child to carry the mother's surname instead of his, and he doubted it was something Maddox would allow. While Julia might be more apt to allowing James to raise his nephew to fit the role, it wasn't something he wanted to ask of them.

The second option, should he be a boy, was Rosalie's child. For several reasons, it was out of the question, save it was truly a last resort. It wasn't for a lack of love for Rosalie, but the leader of the Laurence family couldn't be a halfblood. The thought of the McCormicks - good people as he knew them to be - becoming the leaders of his dynasty wasn't an idea he could stomach.

Still. It was becoming more and more apparent that Benji wasn't the right fit to lead the family, not with the way he wasn't growing up fast enough for James, or the easily avoidable mistakes he continued to make. The young man was meant to carry a double load next year, law and auror training. How was he supposed to accomplish both if he were also concerned with a baby?

"I assume I don't need to remind you that things are bad enough?" James asked, straightening his tie. The family gathered in their sitting room, as Fidèle prepared the floo. Benji shook his head silently, the expression on his face resigned but otherwise giving no hint as to how the boy was actually feeling. "Good," the man said, moving quickly towards the fireplace without anything further. Behind him, the boy trailed along with Julia and Maddox. Amelia had offered to come, but there was really no need to bring the entire entourage for a meeting that no one truly wanted.

James already had an idea of what was going to happen. Roger had declined his invitation to join their family for Christmas, a signal - petty - that he was angrier than his polite refusal outright let on. Could James blame him? Hardly. Had it been his own daughter, he imagined he'd feel rather furious about the whole thing.

As the family stepped through the floo, the fireplace opening up to the Burke home in Mayfair, James moved with intention. "Roger." He offered his hand as his family arrived behind him.

He wouldn't apologize. Not yet anyway.

Julia had found there were very few words to explain how she felt. Benji was her son. Her sweet, wild boy, who had never asked for the position that had been thrust upon him at his adoption. He'd tried his best. She'd watched him struggle to put his past behind him and rise to every challenge as best he could, but perhaps they'd asked too much of him. Perhaps they'd placed too much hope on the shoulders of a boy who wanted so badly to please, but had too much opposition going against him.

He wasn't an aristo boy. He wasn't raised amongst nobility. He'd raised himself, in the dirt and trenches of abuse and neglect. It hadn't defined him, but it had shaped him, and Julia was beginning to realize how unfair all of this had been to him.

She wanted to save him from it. She wanted to stand in front of the magnanimity of what he was facing and take every hit for him. Julia wanted to cradle him and take him back into her home, insist he didn't have to be anything he didn't want to be. That he could just be her son. That he could just be Benji Cuddrun if he wanted to be. That nothing else mattered.

Julia was a realist. There was no escape. This was the life that had been chosen for him, and she knew her son better than most. He'd hold his chin high, look everything he feared in the face, and press on. He'd step up for Ruth and the family, and do what he needed to. In some ways, Julia supposed it should have made her proud, but all it did was break her heart more. She couldn't protect him from the consequences of his actions. Benji was a man now. Seventeen, nearly eighteen. He was going to be a father, and he needed to stand on his own, without his mother offering her skirts for him to hide before.

If she wanted him to be the strong, fearless man she knew he could be, it was necessary.

Still, Roger Burke was the type of man Julia knew and understood well. This wasn't going to be an easy meeting, for any of them.

Maddox hadn't needed to come, but she and Benji had both insisted they wanted him there. He was as much Benji's parent now as Julia was, and he'd been the person Benji had run to when everything had been revealed. They both needed him now, for the support his presence always offered.

She held tightly to her husband's hand, casting 'silencio' over her son when James made his little quip. "For your own good, Benny," she said softly, giving him an apologetic look, before nodding the boy forward into the fireplace. She sighed, glancing up at Maddox and gave a small shake of her head.

She couldn't imagine how things could get much worse.

Benji didn't give two flying fucks what Roger Burke thought of him, or the situation he and Rae had gotten themselves into. The man was a straight prick. They'd never seen eye-to-eye and butted heads in every aspect possible. The man liked to behave as though he were the supreme head of some powerful, respectable family, too good for the dirt Benji walked on, but the young man knew better.

Benji had found plenty of skeletons in the Burke family's closet, and he wasn't about to cower in the likes of them.

It had been nearly two months since Rae had broken the news of her pregnancy to him. Two months that he'd been able to wrap his mind around the idea and come to terms with the reality that had become his. He'd been terrified in the beginning, sick over the whole thing, and not sure what he was meant to do. He'd felt monumental regret, for what he'd done to Rae. What he'd done to his family. The trouble it caused for all of them.

He still felt that, but it was lessened now, knowing that there was no way to go but up. Rae was going to have his child, and he could either embrace the idea and be the best boyfriend for her that he could be, or he could run from it all.

He had no intention to run. He wanted his son or daughter to come into the world, surrounded by love and laughter. He wanted the first thing his baby to see was his wide grin, and Rae's pretty smile. He wanted the baby to feel the warmth of Julia's touch and hear Maddox's lazy drawl. What was there to sorry about in knowing that no matter how much harder it made things, there was going to be a baby who would be born into a family that absolutely cherished them? He could still study. He could still train.

He could still be an awesome dad. It would just take some figuring out.

James was angry. Benji had expected nothing less. The shouting and lecture that had come down had gone in one ear and right out the other. No amount of anger could change anything. No amount of 'you should have' or 'you shouldn't have' would remove the baby from Rae's womb, nor did he want it to.

Maddox and Julia had reassured him. Together, they would all figure this out. As a family. Whatever that looked like in the end, as long as his girlfriend and child were happy and healthy, nothing else mattered to him.

Especially not Roger.

Benji sighed, the only sound he could make as he entered the Burke's parlor. His eyes immediately settled on Rae as he stepped out of the fireplace, a small smile stretching the edges of his lips, but falling quickly again. He could see the darkening along her jaw and he didn't hesitate, crossing the room to get to her before James could stop him. His thumb traced the bruise, his eyes darkening as they bore into Rae's with questions he didn't need answering.

Her fucking father.

Benji looked back over his shoulder at the man, but Maddox was quick, catching him on the shoulder and nodding him over to a sofa near his mother. The boy's back stiffened but he went obediently, giving Rae another strained smile. He sat himself down heavily next to Julia, his eyes trained on Roger as his heart thudded angrily behind his sternum.

This was going to be a long fucking meeting.

The boy clearly thought he hadn't done enough.

Roger couldn't say that he was surprised Benji made a beeline for his daughter rather than performing any sort of greeting or acknowledgement of anyone else in the room. Manners. Self-control. They were beyond the boy who hadn't been able to do anything as simple as postponing reproduction. It seemed fitting that he would arrive at someone's home and think of himself as a resident himself. 'Make yourself at home' was a phrase often tossed around. It was polite. It was inviting. It allowed visitors to feel at ease in what might sometimes be an intimidating or otherwise unfamiliar environment.

It was not an inch that was intended to be taken a mile, and, again, the boy had forgotten his place. This wasn't his home any more than it was his uncles', his mother's or his newest father figure's. Ruth wasn't his wife. She was his daughter, and he had all, every and the only say in matters concerning her. How quickly he'd forgotten that that included whom she was allowed to see.

It wasn't too late to take her back to New York – the very idea he'd come to discuss. Doing so wouldn't breach any contracts, and he dared think that by now James would finally admit that he didn't have control over the boy and couldn't prevent the sort of recklessness they faced now. Under such circumstances and with a woman as loose as Billie Dragomir, their estate on the Gold Coast seemed the only recourse. There, she would be under not only his vigilant gaze but Francine's. They could get her tutors, have her finish up her studies and find a way for her to complete the last of her exams. It wouldn't cost him anything to have someone flown in.

Left up to him, his daughter would never see the light of day again.

There was just the matter of the impropriety that needed to be cleared up before it became a stain that was not so easily scrubbed. Roger couldn't return to New York with his daughter pregnant and unwed. While his family was established within their circles and had a carefully cultivated circle that held them in high esteem, the man was aware of the people he surrounded himself with. Vultures, nearly all of them. A scandal like this could be just the leg up a few needed to better position themselves. It wasn't enough to shake what they had built, but it was certainly more inconvenience than the man wanted to tolerate.

"James," he replied, returning the duke's greeting, his dark eyes remaining on the boy who turned to look at him as if he meant to do something.

Yes. Why not make it all infinitely worse? It only made sense.

Barlowe took him by the shoulder, recognising what the boy could not. This was neither the time nor the place, and he had already done more than his fair share to make things the way they were.

Ruth wasn't exempt, of course, but he'd already dealt with her. She knew where his mind was and that she was the last person who would change it.

"Please, have a seat." He gestured toward the furniture, nearly all of it imported from France and Spain, carefully curated to ensure continuity in design. Roger gestured for his son to get off the carpet, nodding him up the stairs with his train set. Francine put away her magazine, rising at once to take each of them by the hand. All but Benji, in a manner so conspicuous that she earned herself a gaze from the corner of his eye.

"Baxter's made tea for everyone." Roger snapped his fingers and the elf appeared. "You can let him know how you like your sugar."

With another wave of his hand, he gestured Ruth from the window and over to the couch upon which his wife and eldest child sat. His patience for the defiance was at an all-time low. He wouldn't tolerate even the micro displays between the two who so evidently thought that together they could handle anything.

They'd handled this enough. It was his turn.

"You'll have to forgive me any further pleasantries. I'd rather we get this out of the way before falling into milder conversation." The man eased himself into the armchair near the end of the room, a position from which he could see the rest of them. "I don't suppose I need to tell you how disappointed I am that these are the circumstances under which we're meeting. It's not what I had in mind at all. We have a few matters to discuss before we take her back with us."

The folly had gone on long enough.

A flood of relief took hold of her when Benji drew close.

He couldn't fix it. Neither of them could or had in the time they'd been given, but there was a part of her that worried, given the seriousness of the situation and the spitefulness of her father, that they may have decided it was better to leave him back at the castle. Her fiancé could be impulsive, even more so when it came to her. It wasn't that she wouldn't have been able to understand such reasoning, but that...she didn't want to feel like she'd been forced to sit inside a den of lions on her own.

Her lips parted the moment she caught his anger and concern, wanting to assure him that she was fine before he could make a scene. She wasn't fast enough to prevent him from turning to face her father. Rae wasn't afraid of the man, not even in the moments when he exacted his calm violence, but she understood power. She understood that in the moment, neither of them held any. Loath as she was to acknowledge it, they were at the mercy of the adults in the room and the decisions already whirling around inside their heads.

That made her all the more grateful to see Julia and Professor Barlowe. She hadn't forgotten the night when the man came to find her. His usually languid voice had been filled with care and a genuine desire to reassure her while she'd felt like her entire world was collapsing. The next morning, they'd gone to Julia. She was anything but happy about the news – understandably. How could they expect anyone to be jumping for joy when even they themselves were gripped with uncertainty and fear? Rae knew that...there might not have been anyone in the room jumping for joy and ready to celebrate her baby.

In some ways, it was sad. She knew what it was like to be in a place where you weren't particularly wanted. It had never been what she'd imagined for her own children. When the time should've come, she'd imagined that it would've been full of hugs and squeals and...and...fuck...anything but this doom and gloom where everyone only seemed interested in reminding them of what a mistake they'd made.

She knew. She knew it wasn't the right time and that it would affect things, but sometimes...sometimes she wished...

It didn't matter.

Her heart pinched with disappointment when Professor Barlowe led Benji off to sit with the rest of his family, but she knew better than to follow. Her place, apparently, was next to her 'stepmother', who'd already reclaimed her place on the couch.

Resigned to the heaviness of the room and where she knew it was all going, Rae sank into the empty spot, keeping her eyes on Benji while her father spoke. He was certainly calmer than he'd been in the days past. His mind was made up. He planned to take her – her trunk was already packed. All that remained was 'working things out' before they left, then she would have to content herself with counting the days until he loosened and she could return home. Of course, if things went the way he hoped, it might take less time, but it still wasn't what she wanted.

She wanted to be on that side of the room.

Where she sat was cold. Francine placed a performative hand atop hers, but there was nothing warm about the gesture. If she couldn't have Billie there, she'd be all too happy accepting a spot at Julia's side. Instead, she sat with her back against the cushioning, doing everything she could to avoid her father's gaze.

Julia's silencio was probably more sensible than anything anyone had said or done in the two months since this unfortunate happening had fallen upon all of them. With his patience all but destroyed, and the literal weight of the world upon his shoulders, James knew he wouldn't have handled an outburst from his nephew well. This entire saga with the Cuddrun boy had convinced the man to take a much firmer hand with his own daughters and niece as they grew. Compassion and grace had served none of them, and now they had the problem of an unwed mother on their hands.

A problem that would need to be rectified quickly - one way or another.

In truth, James cared little which, so long as it was handled. As the father of Ruth, Roger naturally had the most say, and Benji would have to swallow whatever that was. Graciously.

"Baxter's made tea for everyone. You can let him know how you like your sugar."

The last thing the man wanted was fucking tea. As the elf served everyone else, James let his eyes fall upon the girl who sat quietly beside Francine, looking properly subdued, as his own nephew should. When Benji had crossed the room without regard for anyone else, James had nearly yanked him back with an accio. The death look he'd given Roger had thankfully been intercepted by Maddox, but another few moments and the boy would have found himself facing graver consequences the moment they returned to Arundel.

"I don't suppose I need to tell you how disappointed I am that these are the circumstances under which we're meeting. It's not what I had in mind at all. We have a few matters to discuss before we take her back with us."

Back with them? So they intended to take Ruth overseas. Pregnant, with a Laurence child. For a moment, James silently moved his gaze to his sister, sharing a look with her that spoke volumes. Immediately his hand shot out, shoving Benji back into the couch when he felt his nephew bolt up at the suggestion. His eyes didn't move from Julia's, watching as her jaw tightened.

Merlin. This fucking family.

"We're all disappointed, Roger," James finally answered, turning his gaze back to the man who sat across from him. It was important that the Burkes understood that they weren't the only family feeling the affects of the two reckless children, nor were they the only ones reeling. There was no use at this point in pointing fingers about which child had played the worst role here, nor who was more responsible. They were equally at fault here, and just because Benji was the male in this scenario didn't mean it was any less of a scandal for their family.

He waited a beat, before fixing his eyes on the girl that carried his nephew's child. "You intend to take her overseas until the child's born?"

There needed to be reassurance that the child - their family's child - would be returned.

It hadn't escaped Julia's notice either. The moment her son rushed across the room to his fiancée, Julia had spotted the bruising along Ruth's jaw and collarbone.

Ruth Elliot was a firecracker of a girl. Julia had met her as a small, defiant twelve year old. At the time the girl had barely been willing to enter her office, enticed with treats like a frightened animal. She'd never known, in all her time of knowing Ruth, the girl to be subdued or quiet. She was outspoken, confident. Everything that challenged Benji in the best and worst ways. The two were drawn to one another like moths to flame.

Watching her son concern himself with the girl before all else, reminded her of the way Maddox looked at her. The way her husband stood in front of danger for her and her daughter those years back. It was the touch of a man that saw his whole world in a woman and knew she'd been wronged. For a brief moment, Julia felt a surge of pride in her boy. What a strong husband and father he would be when the time was right.

Maddox luckily had more sense than her and Benji combined, leading their son back to the couch and forcing him to sit with his anger rather than act on it.

"I don't suppose I need to tell you how disappointed I am that these are the circumstances under which we're meeting. It's not what I had in mind at all. We have a few matters to discuss before we take her back with us."

When Benji bolted forward, Julia merely straightened, sharing a quick look with Maddox, before training her gaze on her brother's. James pushed the boy back into the sofa, but Julia didn't react, reading the message behind her brother's eyes in silent agreement.

They wanted to take Ruth with them - back to America she presumed. Away from everything she knew and everything she was working towards. Julia's eyes fell on the bruises again, recognizing that Roger wasn't someone that her future daughter-in-law was safe with. Benji felt it too, and she'd be remiss to believe her son wouldn't take the first opportunity he had to run away with the girl if he had one.

She wouldn't watch the same thing happen with Benji and Ruth as she watched happen with Rosalie and Cassian.

"We're all disappointed, Roger. You intend to take her overseas until the child's born?"

"You realize that child she's carrying is a Laurence." Julia moved her gaze to Roger, ignoring the wife that feigned compassion for Ruth. She knew better. She knew what Francine had said and done to her son that horrible morning at their home in New York. She remembered what Francine's son had done to Fidèle.

Aside from Ruth, Julia didn't believe the Burkes were worth the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. Had it not been Ruth and some other daughter of Roger's, Julia would have sworn off the marriage, insisting her son be arranged to another family, or not at all.

"Julia."

She ignored her brother. Benji was her son. Not James's. "And if a boy, presumably the next heir to our family's duchy. You understand that we cannot entrust his survival to you, overseas, out from our watch, all things considered?"

She tilted her head slightly, knowing Roger would understand exactly what she meant. He had no control of his house. Should anything happen to Ruth and her baby under his roof, the Laurences would have no recourse.

It couldn't be allowed.

It didn't take much for Benji to lose his cool.

It was enough that there was evidence that Roger had laid violent hands on Ruth, especially in the condition she was in. Benji had always despised men that hit or abused women, but it took a special kind of evil for a man to put his hands on a woman that was expecting a baby. The bruises on Rae's face and chest weren't just an affront to him because she was his fiancée. It was an abuse of his child. A disregard for the life that was growing in her stomach.

Regardless if Rae was Roger's daughter, Rae's baby was his. He wouldn't allow the man to hurt his fiancée or the baby she was carrying.

If his family would just stop getting in the way of his need to see justice served.

His uncle shoved him back into the sofa harshly, the tips of his fingers jabbing into Benji's chest with purpose.

They wanted to take Rae away from him. Back to New York or wherever the fuck, where he couldn't watch over her, or take care of her, or protect her. Her pregnancy would continue without him, and...who knew if they'd return her and his child in one piece. Lucy and Francine were diabolical. He wouldn't put it past them to try and hurt her somehow.

He was useless. Restrained by the adults that surrounded them and silenced into saying nothing. He was meant to be the man in this situation. He was meant to be Ruth's shield and his child's protective father. Instead, he was relegated to silence witness, having to watch his world unfold around him without his input or protests.

He...he'd run. Rosie had done it, and survived the family. He could too. He'd find a way. He'd get a message to Rae and they'd make a run for it. Somewhere where neither family would find them, and they could welcome their child together in peace. Benji knew how to survive the streets, as did Rae. They could make it. They could -

"You realize that child she's carrying is a Laurence."

Thank Merlin for his mother. Benji's eyes moved to look at his mum, his expression softening visibly. Where his uncle seemed ready to accept whatever it was Roger had decided, his mother was willing to fight for them. That day when they'd all sat down together and Benji had been forced to tell his mum what he'd done, Maddox and Julia's reassurances hadn't been in vain.

They really did have his parents on their side. They really would figure this out together.

"And if a boy, presumably the next heir to our family's duchy. You understand that we cannot entrust his survival to you, overseas, out from our watch, all things considered?"

She was worried about the same things he was. Benji reached over to give his mother's wrist a light squeeze. The only gesture he could offer, but it spoke volumes.