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“Oh dear,” Emily said tonelessly. “We seem to have lost our dinner companion. Whatever shall we do?”

He only had to grin at her for a few seconds before her affected composure disintegrated, helpless giggles overtaking her.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she caught her breath. “I know she’s your mother; I shouldn’t be so disrespectful.”

“Emily, darling,” he drawled. “You couldn’t have matched her for disrespect if you’d clobbered her over the head with a candelabra. Merely offering a dry comment or two is positively angelic of you.”

Her lips twitched again. “Still,” she said, looking at him with softness in her gaze. He had the foolish urge to sit up straighter. “Thank you for defending me.”

“I will always defend you,” he swore. Then he reached out and grasped her hand. “And I think I must admit that you were right.”

Her eyebrows raised though her eyes continued to spark with good humor. “Uh oh,” she said. “Don’t injure yourself.”

“Minx,” he said, aiming a playful nip at the back of her knuckles. She giggled again and tried to pull her hand back, but he held on tight.

Sobering again, he said, “I feel grotesque admitting it, but you might have been correct that I…overgeneralized about the nature of women due to my mother’s tendencies.”

“Positively angelic,” she murmured, recalling his earlier words about tepid retaliation.

“What I mean to say is,” he said, needing to keep himself on task before her delightful playfulness distracted him. It had only been a few hours, but goodness, he’d missed it. Missed her. “I am sorry. I reacted extremely and unkindly when you requested my aid in chaperoning your sisters. I was wrong, and I apologize."

Her light demeanor vanished as she stared at him with wide eyes. “I—thank you, Benedict. That means a lot.”

“I cannot promise to attendallthe events that your, ah, rather spirited sisters might like to grace with their presence,” he amended, his temples already starting to throb at the merethought. Whoever had decided that the Season ought to run so long should be taken out back and shot in Benedict’s opinion. It was merely too much.

Emily was looking at him with a knowing—and dare he say fond?—look.

“I understand completely,” she said seriously.

“Balls are just so very crowded and loud,” he said by way of explanation, knowing it came off more as complaint. “There are just such a great number of…people. Everywhere.”

He suspected his wife might be trying not to laugh at him. “As a former wallflower, I am no stranger to your dislike of Society events.”

“Good—wait, aformerwallflower? Are gentlemen badgering you now? Who are they? Have they said anything untoward?”

Had his wife’s concern about gossip damaging her sisters’ prospects been a ruse? Was she being hurt by the chatter? He’d call out any man who made her feel unwelcome, just see if he didn’t?—

“No, you impossible man,” she laughed, cutting off his internal scheming. “I simply meant that one is not typically considered a ‘wallflower’ after marriage though I suppose one could debate the point,” she added musingly.

“You’re certain?” he asked, eyeing her carefully. Perhaps hewouldhave to start attending events if other men thought they could paw all over Benedict’s wife.

“I am certain,” she said indulgently. “Now stop being foolish and let me forgive you properly, shall you?”

As she reached out her arms to pull him into an embrace, Benedict couldn’t help but reflect on the truth of his earlier words. In finding Emily he had been, after all, a very lucky man, indeed.

CHAPTER 20

In all her planning and convincing her husband, Emily managed to forget, right up until she was preparing to go to the first ball since her marriage, one very important thing.

ShehatedSociety events.

Well, she allowed as a whisper of movement alerted her to her husband’s presence in his bedchamber, perhapshatedwas strong. Her husbandreallyhated Society events.

He’d clearly been trying for her sake. When she’d mentioned that she planned to chaperone her sisters that evening, he’d offered to accompany her, despite the expression on his face saying that he’d rather eat his own hat. She’d taken pity on him.

“Let me see what’s happening before I drag you into it,” she’d said soothingly as he tried not to look drastically relieved. “Thenwe can strategize how to quash gossip without you having to attend too many of these evenings.”

“If you’re sure, dear,” said his mouth.Thank you forever, said his eyes.