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Edmund snorted. “Another lie—you are rather adept at such things, Brother. I forgot how good you are.”

“I am not lying.”

“You do not care about me—do not say otherwise. Oh sure, I believe that deep down, you do worry and that you want what is best. But this entire thing…” Edmund shook his head. “It is about your marriage as much as it is about my reputation.”

“That is not true.” Benedict hesitated. “And the state of my marriage is not your concern.”

“And is that not the point? My actions should have nothing to do with how your marriage is perceived.”

Benedict leveled a glare at his brother. “And as I have been telling you since we were youths, your reputation is linked to my own. How you are perceived reflects on me just as how I am perceived reflects on you. And by extension, if people think less of you for what you did, the same will be said about my marriage.”

“So, it is about your marriage?”

Benedict suppressed a groan, which was as difficult as suppressing the urge to tear his brother’s throat out! Not literally, of course, but in the same way he had been doing since they were boys. A reminder as to who was in charge here and what that meant.

Supper was to be served in a few short minutes, but before they went to the dining room, Benedict had asked Edmund to meet him in the drawing room for a drink and a brief conversation. Not an argument.

Tomorrow night would be the dinner party, and he wished to make sure that Edmund was willing to go along with the lie that he and Selina had decided upon. A final attempt to put the scandal behind them once and for all so it might never be mentioned again.

Yes, a large part of it was due to his desire to protect his brother’s reputation, for it was bad enough without adding this to the list. All Benedict had ever tried to do was protect his brother, and this right here was no different.

Why can he not see that?!

On a deeper level, however, Benedict was acutely aware of what such a story might say about his marriage. Scandals like the one that brought them together were hard to escape. Benedict simply wanted it done. He wanted it over with. He wanted to enjoy the last few weeks of what he and Selina had, and that could not be done until this matter was taken care of.

Frustratingly, his brother was being a real pain about it.

But what else is new?

“All I wish for is to avoid questions that people have no right to ask,” Benedict explained carefully, keeping his temper in check. “You have not been here these past few months, so you have not had to endure the consequences of what you did.”

“And as I said, I will accept them as I should?—”

“It is not that simple!” he snapped before he could stop himself. “Why can you not understand that? For years, Edmund, all I have done is cover for you! Look out for you! And for years, you have spat in my face every chance you have gotten.”

“I have done no such?—”

“No longer!” Benedict had not even realized that he was standing. Nor had he realized that he was looming over his brother, his body shaking as if he was keeping himself from grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. “You will do this for me. If anyone asks you, you will lie as I have instructed. And that is the end of the matter!”

He glared warningly at his brother, his teeth bared, a growl rumbling in his chest. God, his brother knew how to frustrate him. Why could he not see that this was for the best?!

Edmund returned his glare. “And your wife?” he asked. “Is she fine with this?”

“Of course she is!”

That was a lie… in a way. Benedict knew that, like his brother, Selina did not entirely agree to this lie. That in itself was a problem he was still struggling to reckon with. Ever since the Mayfield Ball, he had noticed a change in their relationship. It was a change that, to be perfectly honest, terrified him.

Selina was being kinder to him. More caring. No longer looking for reasons to be openly hostile or to argue with him—it was reminiscent of those few days spent with her mother and sisters. And while that was undoubtedly pleasant, and even enjoyable in ways that Benedict had not thought possible, it was also not what he wanted.

So, Benedict had been at pains to keep things as they had been. Fire. Brimstone.Passion. He was doing his best to remind her of what their agreement was, but whenever he let his guard down, she would inevitably give away her real feelings in a way that had him balking.

He just needed to get through this final ordeal. Once he did, he would sit her down and tell her in no uncertain terms that their agreement to end their marriage was still the plan and that he did not love her. That… that he was incapable of loving her.

“We are not having this conversation,” Benedict said with finality. “You wish to return home, this is what it will take.” He looked down at his brother, daring him to say otherwise. “Do I make myself clear?”

“It looks as if I do,” Edmund muttered. His glare was challenging, but Benedict knew him well enough to know that he would do what he was being told.

Like a petulant child, he would kick and scream, but he would do it. He knew better not to.