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“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”

—Pride and Prejudice

EVERYDAY, BENJ FELT his riding muscles grow stronger as he made a conscious effort to exercise his horse at Hyde Park. He trotted down the lane three days after his glorious walk with Clara when a familiar stallion and rider pulled up next to him.

“Good, I was told I would find you here.” Darcy whipped off his hat and combed through his hair. “We need to go to my townhome at once.”

“Is everything all right?” From everything he knew, both Georgiana and Clara were doing well. Swimmingly, in fact.

“I received a letter of the most alarming manner.” He reached into his pocket. “I leave town for less than a month, and I already have a letter from someone requesting to court my sister? How in the devil is she so social that this has already transpired?”

His eyes shone wide, jaw set, and Benj knew that look meant Darcy wasn’t pleased.

“From Lord Edling . . . ?”

“Of course him, deuce take it.”

“I think it’s upstanding of him to formally inquire of you so early. I find no fault with the man.”

“Have you seen them together? I am wary of any man that wants to court Georgiana so soon after our arrival. Is he being appropriate? And what the devil is Mrs. Hughes doing? Has she been shirking her duties?”

Anything but shirking them, more like. Dutifully watching, except when kissing Benj.

But he wasn’t about to mention that.

“No, she’s very diligent. And I’ve made personal attempts to come to know the man. He is nothing to be afraid of. People do come to the Season to court each other, you know . . .”

Darcy still scowled. Benj pulled on the reins and walked his horse toward his town house. This conversation might go better over something to drink.

“Come rest yourself at my place.” Benj looked his friend over, clothes and hair askew like a Greek Fury had chased him here. “I take it you’ve ridden here directly from Derbyshire?”

“Yes, of course.” He urged his horse to ride alongside Benj’s.

Benj sighed. “It is quite true that Georgiana and Lord Edling have been several times in each other’s company.

I’ve actually spent a great deal of those times with them and Mrs. Hughes, as you tasked me to do.

As her co-guardian, I don’t disapprove of the match, if it becomes one.

The man is rich, intelligent, and altogether not manipulative, which is utterly refreshing.

I think his reserved temperament suits Georgie’s quite nicely. ”

Darcy’s eyes still clouded like he’d just entered a squall. “Well, I will see about that.”

Of course he would. Benj knew getting Georgiana married with the approval of her brother would take a miracle of Biblical proportions. Perhaps that was why Darcy Senior made Benj a joint guardian over the young woman.

“Shall we ride to your town house right now then?”

“Yes,” Darcy said definitively, and they changed their course to the road.

Benj followed, hoping it was best to forsake the drink and the parlor and get this discussion over with.

The weather had held for nearly a week, and it was a fine day, and Darcy’s townhome was on an excellent spot of ground with a lovely garden.

Perhaps if Darcy was talking with his sister, he could get a moment alone with Clara.

Truth be told, he’d love more time alone with her after the bird incident last week.

She’d declared herself unromantic and all business in relationships—but he was nigh positive she was singing a different tune now.

During most of the time she popped up in his thoughts, he tried to believe that it was him who had convinced her to have a little romance in her life.

The more he saw her, the more he felt she was breaking out of that shell, and maybe, just maybe, in the long term, she could care romantically for someone.

Well, not just someone. For him, of course.

Because he surely cared for her.

The warm April air swirled about them as they dismounted and tied up their horses on the front post. After inquiring with the butler, it seemed the young ladies were indeed walking in the gardens, just as Benj had hoped.

But as they made their way down the side steps and around to the hedgerows, Benj stopped in his tracks.

There, at the first curve of the garden, he saw Georgiana and Lord Edling, the latter lifting Georgie’s hand to his face with the most adoring look in his eye. His other hand moved behind the young lady’s back and drew her toward him.

Where was Clara as chaperone? Surely Edling wasn’t going to kiss Georgiana in this garden, all alone, was he?

That would be scandalous.

Though he’d done the same thing not a week earlier, but again, he wouldn’t mention it.

“Get your hands off her,” Darcy yelled, swallowing up the distance across the lawn. Edling immediately released Georgiana and drew away two paces. “What do you think you are doing with my sister?”

“Sir, I was just—”

“Fitz, stop,” Georgiana interrupted Edling and blocked the space in front of him defensively.

“Have a little decency.” She shook her head, curls bobbing.

“I just tripped on a couple of uneven cobbles, and Lord Edling was trying to ascertain how badly I was cut.” She lifted the handkerchief, displaying a few splotches of bright red liquid on the cloth.

“No sense of propriety and you caused harm to my sister?”

“Fitz,” she said again, this time almost laughing. “What has gotten into you? You are usually much more contained—”

“Georgiana, my wife is about to have a baby, and then I got this letter, from him ”—Darcy thrust a finger toward Edling—“and I started worrying about my sister as well.”

Benj had been a few feet behind Darcy but stepped up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are under a different kind of stress than you’ve ever experienced, what with all these women and their important life events happening right before your eyes—”

“Yes,” Darcy huffed, pulling down his waistcoat and trying to look composed again. It was comical how worked up the man had gotten, but Benj knew better than to laugh at his austere cousin.

“Ah,” Georgiana’s voice softened, and she extended her other hand out and rubbed her brother’s arm.

Darcy swallowed and tried to start some semblance of conversation with Edling, and Benj looked around. Where on earth was Clara?

Knowing Darcy might interrogate the man before him for the next quarter hour, Benj broke away and walked farther into the garden to investigate on his own.

At first, he saw no one. Maybe Clara had taken ill and had to turn in. Or maybe she had some good excuse for returning to the house and would be back momentarily.

And then, from behind the second row of hedges, he saw her step out. A man backed him, and hanging ivy entangled in one of the trees stood in the way. Benj couldn’t make out the man’s face, just his hair.

She was having a clandestine meeting, too? With a man?

And it wasn’t him, blast it all.

Now it was Benj who had to work to keep his emotions checked. He wanted to run the remaining distance across the garden, grab that fellow by his collar, and demand he explain himself. Maybe land him a facer. Right in his nose.

Had the man somehow cornered her? But when her eyes tightened and searched the man’s face, he stopped himself. The man wasn’t threatening her. He was saying something, and she was listening intently.

He caught distorted snippets of whispers, and throwing all etiquette aside, he stepped closer, having to know what they spoke of.

“It’s time to give up on Stockton,” the man said. “He isn’t your answer.”

Stockton again. Benj had made inquiries about who Stockton was and knew he was her solicitor. But was it possible he was more than that to her?

“I know,” she said. She was searching the man’s eyes, her own darting back and forth across his face. Her eyes didn’t seem the same. They weren’t as soft as when she looked at him. In fact, they almost seemed—scared.

“I can secure you the best future.” The man reached forward and grasped her hand, drawing it near his lips. “You know you need to make your decision. It’s only a matter of time before others find out . . .”

Benj leaned closer. The man had raised his voice a hair, and Benj recognized that voice.

And that hand that held hers . . . he saw the ring he knew all too well—the seal of their family.

He studied the man’s hair, the cut of the jacket.

He wanted to scream. What an idiot not to realize that Matlock had drawn her away into this corner of the blasted garden. Benj wanted to barrel him over—

“So, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Matlock’s words stopped him, cutting him like a thrown dagger. He froze, all his focus on that beautiful face, on what those mesmerizing lips—lips he had kissed—would say next.

“This is all very sudden.” Benj hung on her every word, as did his imbecile of a brother. “There are things I must work out, and, of course, I must finish my time with Georgiana.”

He nodded, surely encouraged by such a speech.

“Being a widow and all, I need to think on this decision, though I am very flattered by the offer. Could I ask for a little bit of time before I give my final answer?”

He watched her smile prettily. No one could refuse a face like that.

“Fair enough,” Matlock said, clearly disgruntled. “I will return in two days.”

“Thank you,” she said, dipping into a curtsy.

“Until then,” he added, his tone suddenly syrupy. Benj could just imagine the tantalizing smile his despicable brother was utilizing. “I will prepare what is necessary in the meantime. Thank you, my dear.”

My dear .

Now Benj really did want to retch, preferably all over his brother.