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“By choice,” Benedict insisted. “She is busy.”

“Why do I not believe?—”

Benedict came to a stop by the front steps, forcing his brother to halt. “Edmund, I must warn you, that is my wife you’re speaking of.”

He fixed his brother with a warning look, an indication that this topic was to be dropped immediately.

“I did not mean to offend, Brother.” Edmund held up his hands in defense. “I am simply interested in seeing Miss Gouldsmith again. To apologize, of course.”

“That is Her Grace to you,” Benedict said, with a steely edge to his voice. “And I am sure that she will welcome such an apology.”

He raised an eyebrow at his brother, a final effort to warn him off doing or saying anything offensive.

Only then, sensing that the moment was about to spiral, Benedict decided to change tack—it would not have been possible had it not been for his wife’s influence on him.

His expression softened. His lips curled into a smile. And again, he reached out and clapped his brother on the shoulder.

“A lot has changed since we last saw one another, Brother.” He chuckled. “So much so that I doubt an apology is even necessary.”

Edmund frowned. “Is that so?”

“Let us discuss it later. First a wash and a change of clothes for you, I think. And then a drink before supper, just you and I. We have a lot to discuss, and I would like you to be caught up to speed before you meet my lovely wife for the second time.”

Edmund seemed about to question Benedict but then thought better of it. He gave a smile of his own, nodded his head in agreement, and together the two brothers walked up the steps and into the manor.

A lot had changed these last few months, and Edmund was about to learn just how much.

“I don’t know, Benedict…” Edmund held his glass of whiskey to his chest, the look on his face suggesting that he had no intention of drinking it. “That sounds a little… unbelievable.”

“There is no reason it should be.”

“And who is this mystery woman I was searching for, exactly? And where is she now?”

“Alas, you were unable to find one. Which is why you have returned to England. Clearly, we cannot claim that you found a willing bride, for that will only raise more questions.”

“I think enough questions will be raised without the addition of a fake bride.”

“There is no fake bride,” Benedict pointed out. “That is the entire point. You left England in search, for you knew that finding one here was going to be difficult. But after months of traveling, you decided that your quest for love was not meant to be pursued across the ocean but here at home. That is why you have come back.”

Still, Edmund looked unconvinced. “Have you considered the other option?”

“Which is?”

He shrugged. “The truth. I will simply tell them that I panicked and ran and that you, the embodiment of propriety and all things good, stepped in. Surely, that will reflect well on you? Who would not be impressed by a tale like that?”

“It is not my reputation I’m worried about.”

“Ah…” Finally, Edmund took a sip of his whiskey. “So, that is what this is about.”

“Meaning?”

“I do not need you to look out for me, Benedict. I certainly do not need you to lie on my account. I made a mistake, and I will accept the consequences of that mistake, regardless of what they might be.”

“Edmund…” Benedict groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It is not as simple as that.”

“It is,” Edmund asserted. “You are the one complicating it.”

“I am just trying to look out for you.”