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Matlock had the audacity to lean in and kiss her on the cheek, and with every movement Benj’s heart bled even more. Why did this have to happen? Especially with his brother, the man he’d tried not to compare himself to his whole life?

His hand moved instinctively to finger his lapel pin, but even that didn’t seem to help. He hadn’t been with Clara during all her time in London, but he didn’t understand how she had feelings for the man, how they could have developed this much of a relationship.

But she hadn’t said yes. Not yet.

Up until now, he’d been certain the time on the Thames and at the Serpentine meant she cared about him.

He couldn’t witness another moment. Clamping his eyes shut, he turned on his heel, his throat and stomach tight as he walked briskly back through the foliage.

Once he returned to Georgiana’s location, he tried for even breaths, but it proved difficult.

Not three minutes later, Clara came toward their party from a different direction.

“Mrs. Hughes!” Darcy stopped mid-sentence with Lord Edling and turned toward Clara. “Could you come here and explain why you were so very neglectful of your charge?”

She increased her pace, a distraught moue shading her face. As soon as she came near enough, though, she tried to mold her countenance into a smile. “I am so sorry. I needed to step into the retiring room.”

Darcy let out a tight gust of air. No one could brook an argument with such an excuse.

Benj wanted to believe her, but he’d seen everything to the contrary. He knew she was lying, but he didn’t have the heart to call her out in front of them all.

Not when his heart hurt so badly already.

Her deception was driven home when he stared directly at her, and she returned it with a smile.

Georgiana, who in truth possessed the most composure of the group, thrust out her hands. “Why don’t we all take tea inside? I think a little refreshment will do us all well.”

Darcy drove a hand through his hair and let out a gust of wind fit to propel a mainsail into action. “Fair enough, as I’d like to get to the bottom of everything quickly.” Before Darcy could sink his teeth into anyone else, they all started walking toward the house.

But the last thing Benj wanted was to be stuck with Clara—or Mrs. Hughes, or the future Countess of Matlock, devil take it—over tea and have to pretend everything was all right.

No matter Darcy or Georgiana’s state, he bowed his leave and took to his horse, this time riding with more fury than he’d had in years.

MR. DARCY’S INTERROGATIONS lasted well through their afternoon tea, but once he took Lord Edling into the study of Georgiana’s house, Clara excused herself.

She needed to think.

As soon as she made it to her bedroom, she pulled out the two letters that she’d hidden in her desk drawer.

The first was from Stockton, telling her that her creditors had changed their tune, wanting payment within six months, and the rent and her income from being a chaperone wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the creditors silent.

And soon, she’d lose her free rent, too, if Georgiana prevailed upon Mr. Darcy.

Next, she fingered Matlock’s detailed letter.

In smooth, confident strokes, he’d flattered her for the first page.

On the second, he’d outlined his connections with the late Mr. Hughes, his understanding of her properties, his inquiries on the man’s poor management, and his discovery of their awful state.

In the garden, he’d presented an easy way to fix all of it though—to marry him. He had enough money to pay the creditors. He had enough expertise to increase their worth. And she’d not been stupid enough to miss that nearly every single woman in London thought him the best catch of this Season.

He’d mentioned that if she accepted him, no one would ever have to know about how close she’d come to ruin.

So, maybe that kind of discretion coupled with his assets were worth a marriage.

She’d married before for less.

Though her father had promised her it would make her rich and happy, he’d been wrong.

At least this time, Clara was able to make her own choice. And Matlock had been kind and open, and he wasn’t ugly or overly old.

There was just the matter of Benj to attend to. She’d smiled at him today as though nothing was wrong.

And indeed, there wasn’t. People sometimes kissed someone they didn’t intend to marry. She would look on that as a fleeting moment, and she would forget it.

For years, she’d learned to be a master of nonattachment. She’d spent many hours of her life practicing indifference. Benj could mean nothing to her now. He’d learn that in time.

She shoved both letters away from her and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was an Engsol, and she knew how to protect herself.

That night, she didn’t come down for dinner, and when Georgiana had inquired after her, she told her she would be well by morning.

Which she would be. A restorative night’s sleep would only aid in her resolve.

The next morning, Clara awoke starving. Skipping dinner hadn’t been a good choice. In the early hours of the morning, she snuck down in an attempt to grab something quick before anyone saw her.

But Georgiana came into the room right behind her, springing upon her the news that the men—Darcy and Benj—would be joining them within an hour.

She knew she couldn’t hide in her room indefinitely, so she dressed for the day and sat in the drawing room, listening to Georgiana recount how well Lord Edling had answered Mr. Darcy last night despite all the pressure.

Several agonizing minutes later, the men entered, and she curtsied toward them as Georgiana called for tea.

Benj’s eyes met hers. She couldn’t stop the smile she returned.

But then she looked away. She couldn’t let him draw her in with his kind gaze and easy conversation.

Now she sat across from a heaping pile of sweets, and not even the best of strawberry tarts would compensate for the tightness in her chest.

She’d made up her mind yesterday. She had to let Benj go. Mr. Darcy carried most of the conversation, and she made no special effort to speak with Benj. He’d understand her new indifference eventually.

But it would make it easier if he didn’t keep sending looks her way as they discussed Lord Edling together.

“Addressing your question,” Benj said in reply to one of Mr. Darcy’s queries, “Georgiana and Edling are well-suited for each other. I feel like he truly respects you, don’t you Georgie?

” Georgiana nodded. “That is a feeling every woman deserves. Many a man would not consider his wife as an equal, as an asset to his happiness, regardless of holdings. Many might only consider the monetary gains she would afford.”

“I truly don’t think that’s the case with Lord Edling,” Georgiana said.

Mr. Darcy turned to face Clara. “And what about you, Mrs. Hughes? Do you agree with the colonel and my sister?”

She swallowed and set down her teacup. “I do think there is mutual respect between them, more than I’ve seen in most couples.” Mutual respect was the ideal. She just wasn’t sure she’d ever have that herself.

Mr. Darcy smiled and nodded.

“People have certainly married with much less promise,” Benj said.

Those words punctured her like a flesh wound. Just seeing him now was torture. And she hated herself because she felt tortured. It was better not to feel, wasn’t it?

Why was this retching, fortuneless man so hard to forget?

Her mind drifted to their walk on the Thames. He’d been open and honest, genuinely kind and guileless—and more handsome than usual in that coat he had worn—oh, she had definitely wanted him to kiss her until she’d felt too scared.

And then there was the time at the Serpentine. He’d pulled her close, he’d assisted her, and then he had kissed her. And it had been glorious.

She kissed him back, and she’d meant it, even though she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that lovely and awful feeling that had enveloped her.

That day had been the closest she’d ever felt to being in love.

Clara rubbed the edge of the saucer with one finger. Ignoring her feelings had never been so hard. But the letter from Stockton. The letter from Matlock.

They loomed in the room just above her, threatening to crash down like weights through the ceiling.

All future with Benj had to be forgotten.

Her breath became shallow, and she focused on the warm cup in her hand. She couldn’t look at Benj.

Then, Georgiana’s butler opened the door.

“Two Misses Fitzwilliams, Georgiana.”

“ They have come.” Georgiana sprang from her seat. “My favorite cousins.”

“Aren’t I generally her favorite?” Benj muttered to Mr. Darcy as they both stood.

“Don’t ask me—heaven knows I’m not on her good side at present,” Mr. Darcy replied.

“Hello, brother,” the first one said with a little embrace.

Clara couldn’t keep her eyes off these new sisters and their interaction with the brother.

“You look like you’ve swallowed a lime,” whispered the second one when it was her turn to kiss him on the cheek.

Clara had to admit the sister was right. Benj’s countenance seemed taut and twisted, and she was fairly certain it wasn’t because he’d eaten something that disagreed with him.

He abruptly cleared his throat. “I don’t believe either of you have met Mrs. Hughes, widow to the late Mr. Reginald Hughes.”

His introduction was appropriately formal, but hearing his stilted “Mrs. Hughes” caused her breath to tighten.

He drew in a draught of air. “She, as you know, is currently here as Georgiana’s companion. Mrs. Hughes, this is Lady Matilda”—he gestured to the one with dark, tight curls—“and Lady Madeline.” She had glossy, straight hair, but nearly the same shade as her sister, and was slightly shorter.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Clara said with a smile she wished wasn’t so hard to produce.

“Likewise,” Lady Madeline said with a little swish of her shoulder. “I have heard about your diligent service to Georgiana in my brother’s letters.”

“Oh, really, sister?” Lady Matilda replied. “Benj, what did you say? Do you divulge more to Madeline than to me?”

“I assure you,” Benj said, butting in, “I was merely informing her of the situation in town—”

Clara had never seen him so red.

Georgiana seemed to sense the tension and stepped forward, taking each sister by the hand. “Oh, let’s not fret about minor differences in correspondence. Why don’t you get to know her for yourself? She really is lovely.”

All three women turned their eyes on her, and Clara wanted to scurry away faster than a mouse trying to steal a bite.

“Oh yes,” Lady Madeline said, her eyes narrowing like she’d found her prey. “Let’s!”

Clara could feel her nostrils flare as they all took their seats. Benj crossed his arms and cocked one brow, and something in the set line of his mouth told her he was about to enjoy his sisters’ machinations far too much.

Lady Matilda attempted the entire gamut of questions, some bordering on impertinence, but everything turned for the worst when Lady Madeline gazed directly at Clara.

“How very lucky, Mrs. Hughes, for you to spend so much time in my brother’s company. Is he not the most thoughtful of men?” She absently fingered the beautifully set shell-lined flower that accented her chignon.

Clara thought of Georgiana’s teapot. Lady Madeline’s hairpin was probably from him, too, brought back from his travels. Perhaps instead of the ivory brooch.

Her eyes flitted to his jacket for a second. In days past, she’d watched him absently twist at his pin several times. But today, it was missing.

Lady Matilda raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“Oh yes, indeed. I’ve seen and heard about his kindness to all of you. A most diligent brother and cousin.”

Georgiana and Lady Matilda nodded, but Lady Madeline did not let her off so easily. “Oh, it is not just to family, you must agree, Mrs. Hughes. Has he not been as attentive to you as you’ve assisted Cousin Georgiana this Season?”

Her tongue backed into her throat. Lady Matilda might as well have been the foot that stepped on the little mouse’s tail and trapped her in the drawing room with them.

Benj cleared his throat. “Matilda, this is plenty enough questions for poor Mrs. Hughes. Surely I’ll never be able to dote on anyone like I do on my sisters and cousin. You know our brother, Matlock, often bestows far more to his interests.” His eyes met hers, his eyebrows raised.

Clara felt her heart jump into her neck. He glanced away.

Benj shifted away from her. “Georgiana, surely you wish to inform my sisters of the exciting few weeks you’ve had with your beau?”

And all it took was the word “beau” for the twins to fall into raptures with their cousin. Mr. Darcy listened attentively, surely wanting to glean more details and make a judgment.

That left Clara and Benj to fester in silence across from each other. Surely he sensed her coolness. Coldness was something she’d mastered long before now, and she would make sure it paid off today.

Indeed, she couldn’t count the times her father reminded her to leave her heart out of her future.

And just when she thought she’d mastered such a feat, Benj had walked into her life.

He had done everything to change her mind and see life a different way.

He’d also known she wanted to move slowly and therefore hadn’t pressed for anything official.

As a companion, she hadn’t meant to be courted anyway, but they had just fallen into each other’s presence so many times . . .

She was sure he’d grown attached. That was like him. He was so naturally trusting, so willing to love.

Two things she’d never be.

Now she would walk out of his life instead.

Except for the first time, she didn’t know if she could. The longer she sat here, the more she felt drawn to him.

She stood. “Please excuse me.” She’d always felt easy around Benj. That meant she had to leave before his spell did more to her. “I beg all of your pardons, and it’s lovely meeting you,” she managed to say. “I am afraid I’m rather indisposed.”

Georgiana started to rise.

“No, please stay. I shall be well enough off in a few hours, I just need a bit of fresh air.” She needed time to pretend that she felt nothing.

If only that were the truth.