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Her walk with Benj on the Thames came to mind.

For a moment, she knew she wanted to smile at someone like that.

And have him smile in return. To be cared for, and not just for the security of the future or because of obligation to a large dowry.

She wanted someone she could talk with, laugh with, problem solve with. Someone to weather life with.

Georgiana must have thought her own questions a lost cause because she’d taken whole-heartedly to feeding the ducks.

A flush of them began surrounding her, some on the water, and some waddling toward her on the land.

Then, other fowl came, too—a pair of regal-looking swans, then hopping around the edges came several emboldened goldcrests, and a few grebes glided majestically through the fray.

Clara grabbed a handful of the bread pieces. “You have quite the knack.”

“It doesn’t take much skill,” Georgiana said, and Clara didn’t miss her flat tone.

“I am sorry about my woolgathering a few moments ago.” Clara glanced at the happy couple across the way.

“I know I’ve been quiet. It’s . . . not my nature to gush over someone’s romantic feelings.

But I do think you two are so well-suited for each other.

From everything I’ve witnessed around him and heard of him, he’s very upstanding.

” She reached over and squeezed her friend’s arm.

“And it’s more than obvious he’s quite taken with you.

Every time he looks and talks to you, his eyes give away his regard. ”

Georgiana’s own eyes lit with that piece of feedback. “Oh, I hope so.” She bit down on her lip. “So, going back to the first question, if my biggest wish isn’t for freedom, but for love . . .”

Clara drew in a breath, trying to grapple with the new feelings within herself. She knew she ought to also be honest with her friend. “Many would say that was a worthwhile wish, too.”

Georgiana nodded modestly and turned back to the birds.

Clara glanced at the small army that had surrounded them, wondering if she thought marrying for love was a worthwhile wish.

If she could ever let herself continue to feel what she’d felt just the other day on the Thames.

She’d been too scared then, too afraid of how that might affect her and affect her future.

Yet part of her longed to stop being scared, stop being stoic and stale like the bread in her hand.

Part of her wanted to live.

BENJ KNEW THAT Georgiana’s interest in Lord Edling was serious enough that he ought to investigate the man’s character in a more personal manner. Benj also knew that if all continued as it had been, Darcy would be wanting a full report anyway soon enough.

For those two reasons, he and Lord Edling had spent this afternoon on their horses around the designated path in Hyde Park.

“My goodness,” Lord Edling said, pulling on his reins. “You are quite skilled, sir.”

“I thank you,” Benj replied, taking off his hat and wiping off a bit of perspiration. It felt good to exercise his mount. He hadn’t ridden hard like this since before his leg injury.

Edling glanced at the sky. “Look at all those birds. They seem like they have somewhere to be.”

“Shall we follow them?” Benj said, happy to take his horse at a slower pace.

“Why not?” Lord Edling gave him a wide smile.

The man had proven more open in private, with congenial, unaffected manners.

When pressed on matters of finance, he seemed smart, well-spoken on his estate and the tenants he had, which pleased the colonel.

None of his business actions seemed extreme or prone to gambling.

He also had mentioned God, not in a trite way but as though he actually believed in Him, which Benj found promising.

Indeed, Edling was one of those that improved upon acquaintance, instead of souring.

They rode through the more tree-dense part of the park until they came upon the small lake.

Benj saw two young ladies in the distance—their figures familiar amidst the fowl. He immediately cast a glance toward Lord Edling.

“I’ll admit, I had hoped for this,” Edling said as he pulled up to Benj. “Miss Darcy has told me she asked her cook to save her some bread scraps. I guess when I saw the fowl, I hoped I might see her here, using them. But I didn’t know she’d collected every bird in England!”

It was good of him to admit his plan because as soon as they had rounded the curve and saw the ladies, Benj had thought their presence seemed rather too fortuitous. “Should we surprise them, then?”

When the men came within an easy distance, both dismounted and tied up their horses silently out of the ladies’ line of sight.

“Goodness,” Benj said in a loud voice as they strode up. “The admirals of the navy might come calling for advice with the armada you’ve amassed.”

Both girls whipped around, and Georgiana first shook her head, but when she looked across at the man next to him, Benj noticed the way her eyes grew expectant. Lord Edling’s own countenance wasn’t too much different.

To Georgiana’s left stood Clara, who dipped into a curtsy. Was he right in thinking that her eyes had become a little brighter now that she saw him?

“Good afternoon,” he offered to Clara. She responded in kind, and seeing that Lord Edling had already fallen into conversation with Georgiana, he came up to Clara’s side instead.

“I’d almost think this was planned between the two of them,” Benj said in a low whisper. “But perhaps you would have stopped it from happening if that had been the truth.”

Clara’s soft curls danced under her straw bonnet as she shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t stop them. We’ve accepted nearly every one of his invitations, thank you, no matter how ‘hawkish’ you think I am.”

She raised her brows as she smiled. Benj loved the spunk this woman had.

“In fact,” she continued, “Georgiana did not mention this as her plan. I was the one who first suggested we go walking.” She smiled. “So I am not as mercenary as you think, Benj.”

He studied her face, and it seemed a blush dotted her cheeks.

“So, do you suddenly support the match, then?” he whispered, drawing nearer to her and registering her orange-vanilla scent. That smell was quickly becoming one of his favorites. He watched her delicate hand throw another fistful of food to the flocks all around her.

“I . . . am finding more and more reasons to support it, I suppose.”

Her voice possessed feeling. Her eyes, however, still conveyed a bit of conflict that he didn’t understand. Nevertheless, he reached for his own fistful of bread.

“Ah, interesting. Their love story does seem to have all the luck so far.”

He then looked across at his cousin. “Georgie—I think you’ve done a capital job of fattening these birds! What say you to a bit of a stroll? After trying to keep up with Edling’s superior riding, my legs need movement.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Georgiana said, and Lord Edling simultaneously took the nearly empty bag and extended his other arm. They started up the path away from the water.

This left Benj to Clara, which he didn’t mind in the slightest. Many of the birds cleared out, with only a few persistent ones continuing to plod after them.

“My goodness, how insistent you are,” Clara said, glancing back at one of the most bold ducks, and Benj found he liked the playfulness in her voice.

One particularly large mallard and a few grebes continued to keep pace with them. Benj looked behind him, amazed at the determination of the fowl.

They were now well within the wooded path when he heard a bark from somewhere in the distance and the immediate rustle of wings behind him. Most of the birds spooked and took to the air, but the mallard, surely glutinous after his feast, seemed to barely make it off the ground.

He felt Clara’s tug on his arm, and they both turned just in time for the mallard to fly straight toward them and land momentarily on Clara’s straw bonnet.

“Oh no!” she said, breaking away from Benj as both hands went to her head. The duck stepped back and forth on the bonnet, trying to release his claws from the weaving of her hat and, after a swat of Clara’s hand, finally took to the air, this time managing to gain altitude through the trees.

But he hadn’t taken flight before he left a little token from his backside on Clara’s shoulder.

“Well, that was unusual,” she said, brushing down her skirts. Up ahead, clearly in their own happy world, Lord Edling and Georgiana walked on, chatting arm in arm. Clara, it seemed, had no idea of the unfortunate mess on her gown.

“Forgive me,” he said, stepping near her. He gestured to her shoulder. “You, um . . . it seems our bird friend decided your shoulder was a good place . . .”

She glanced down, mortification in her large eyes. “Oh, how awful!”

Most of it had thankfully landed on her shawl. “May I?” He gingerly lifted the edge of the lace and removed the shawl so that it touched nothing else. She took the long ends and folded it so that the offending bit was hidden inside.

Then, he withdrew his handkerchief and stepped close, and this time, the orange scent assailed him like a clarion call, inviting him closer with far too much attraction. He dabbed at her shoulder, and then his gaze met her big eyes, the same hue as the clear sky above them.

“Thank you for your assistance,” she said. “I’m mortified.”

“Don’t be.” He found he couldn’t look away, his one hand wiping without his eyes’ supervision. “It’s not like we haven’t been in a reversal of roles like this before. A little bird remnant is nothing.”

Clara smiled, but for once didn’t make a jab at his weak stomach.

He brushed a curl from her face. “In fact, in India, it’s considered awfully good luck if bird excrement lands on you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her whole face seemed to sparkle. Lands, that smile would be his undoing.

“I am in earnest!” he protested. He let his eyes flick up the path, where he could still see Georgiana and Edling, but the space between them had increased. He wondered how long it would be before either of them looked back.

Perhaps long enough that he could . . .

He felt her gaze dance between his two eyes, studying his face. He cleared his throat. “One more wipe and I think that ought to do it . . .” But he knew even when he was finished, he didn’t want to move away.

Her upturned chin and expectant mouth weren’t retreating either.

Clara had refused him on the Thames—but it wasn’t because she hadn’t liked him. She’d admitted as much. It was nerves, and insecurity—

“Last time we walked together, we discussed you setting the pace . . .” he whispered, moving another lock of hair from her vision. “Has its tempo increased since I saw you last?”

He waited, his throat tight, but his mouth eager and willing.

“I’d say my pace moves much faster now. Matching my beating heart, even.”

That sounded like an acceptance of his real question, the question they both knew hung between them. Dipping his head, his lips met hers. The kiss was soft and tender, but he tried to express his care for her. His attraction. The possibility of what could be.

The way her mouth responded spoke of passion. Not obligation in the slightest. It seemed the woman knew what she was doing.

After a few more blessed moments, it was Clara who pulled away. Again, she pressed down the folds of her dress. “We had better catch up with them.” She tilted her head up the road.

It appeared Georgiana and Edling still hadn’t turned around, and they were even farther ahead now.

Benj nodded, offering his arm. As one of his hands rested on hers, he tried to take inconspicuous breaths.

No battle victory had ever felt like the triumph he’d just experienced.

She’d let him kiss her! Clara, the woman who declared any affection not in her purview.

What happened between them just now felt like the perfect display of affection.

They didn’t talk about futures—indeed, it would be strange until Georgiana had secured her own future—but clearly, this meant Clara had feelings for him.

Feelings—those things she declared she didn’t possess. No one kissed like that unless they had feelings.

Benj squeezed her arm that was looped through his. “I daresay, India was right. That bird did bring good luck.”

Clara glanced at him, a giggle escaping her lips. She merely shook her head and smiled at him.

That was more than enough confirmation.