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Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly.

—Pride and Prejudice

CLARA CRUMPLED ONTO the small bench at the same rate the tart crumbled in her hand. The sugary red liquid started to drip down the side of her fingers, and she hurried to lick it off before it stained her off-white dress.

Colonel Benjamin Fitzwilliam loved her.

Of course he did.

Benj’s admission had been so forthright. So bold.

She had a decision to make.

Her heart felt like the strawberry mess that oozed over her palm. Bleeding, unsure, messy.

Matlock would return tomorrow. And she’d been ready to tell him yes. She’d thought it was the only way to get out of her troubles.

Unless she told Benj about her problems. She didn’t know if he wanted a penniless bride, or if he could even afford someone with debt to their name.

Men of Benj’s rank did often have to attend to money when considering a wife.

She wasn’t sure Benj could afford her liability.

Maybe knowing the truth about her would change his mind.

But that didn’t change how she felt. She loved him, too.

These obstacles were temporal matters.

Now was the time to listen to her heart. For the first, and hopefully not the last, time.

She was independent, but that didn’t have to mean lonely. It meant she could choose who to love. To be vulnerable, imperfect, honest, and open. Just like Benj had been from the very beginning.

The tart dropped from her fingers as she ran out of the gazebo.

“Benj!”

His hand rested on the doorknob of the side entrance. Her voice must have carried because his head angled toward her.

She ran a few more steps. “Please, come here.”

This time, he turned more fully, and to her utter joy, he closed up the distance between them with long, confident strides.

“Thank you,” she murmured as he drew close to her.

His hand reached up and touched her lips. His fingers on her mouth sent a thrill through her that she’d never experienced before. Was he going to kiss her again?

“You—you still have some crumbs on your face from your snack.” He tapped at her cheek and then dropped his hand.

“Oh, blast it all, Benj!” she said, wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand.

He tilted his head and smiled. “Did you have anything else you wanted to say?”

She let out a gust of air. “Yes.”

Then, all the nerves came rushing back in. All the doubt, all the worries and insecurities. She’d never allowed herself to be vulnerable before.

“I love you, too.” She tugged on her dress. “There, I said it.”

He smiled. “Well, that’s nice to hear, even if the delivery was a little blunt.”

This time, she held up her hand and placed it on his lips.

“I’m in a terrible predicament. Everything I own is steeped in debt.

My solicitor says my creditors are just about to call me on it all and make my problems quite public.

It will ruin my standing, my good name. I’ve been renting everything and trying to dig my way out of debt since Reginald’s death—but he went around buying whatever exotic trinkets he wanted and betting on everything and anything.

He spent my dowry as if it would somehow grow back.

He never cared or attended to the mounting debt, which I only learned upon his death.

Despite all I’ve done, it hasn’t been enough. ”

“So, that is why you were considering marrying my brother.”

Her eyes went wide.

“You knew?”

He tapped at the lapel pin. “I thought with all your abilities to glean information that you would have put it together. You’re nigh as good as an intelligence officer, dear Clara.” He winked at her. “I heard you with him the other day as I looked for you in the garden.”

Her face turned as white as the stone structure in the garden behind them, and she dropped her eyes to the ground.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hearing you speak to him almost undid me,” he whispered. “But it did help me learn my heart.”

She continued to make a study of the ground. “I understand if you don’t want me. You would incur my debt, and I know you’ve said before you have to be careful with your finances . . .”

This time, he placed a finger under her chin and raised it so that her gaze met his.

“I haven’t been fully honest with you either.

I actually do work for the home office as an intelligence officer since my release from the army.

You could say I’ve learned how to discern secrets.

Luckily, this position also pays me a little money.

I don’t know how yet, but I will try everything I can to sleuth out a solution and find enough money for us to marry. ”

“Oh, Benj!” She shook her head. “An intelligence officer. Of course. The town you were riding to—the time downtown near White’s . . .”

“Yes, I was on business as a courier of sorts.” His voice dropped. “But from here on out, I’ll need your discretion in this regard. Not even Darcy or my brother knows.”

Clara winced. “Your brother—”

“That devil of a man. I have quite a few words I’d like to say to him, actually.”

She clenched his lapel with one of her hands. “Do you think we can get this all sorted out with him tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Yes. We can make a plan.” He smiled.

“Clara, ours is a love match. A romantic match. Do you know what that means?” His hand moved to caress her cheek.

“That I love you, and we’ll find a way to make everything work.

That’s what marriage is. Through thick and thin, rich and poor, you lift me, and I lift you. ”

She threw her arms around him, nuzzling into his chest. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” he whispered down toward her head. “But please don’t get my jacket any more sticky with your jammy fingers.”

“Benj!” she cried out.

“I’m teasing,” he said, throwing his arms around her as he came in to kiss her.

She couldn’t remember ever being this happy.

BENJ HAD JUST finished kissing her soundly when he heard footsteps behind them.

“I thought you might fall madly in love with her.”

They stepped apart and quickly turned around. Darcy stood at a respectable distance, arms folded, eyebrows raised.

Benj stared at him, and with one hand gestured between himself and lovely Clara. “You planned for this?”

He shook his head. “Not quite. Lizzy predicted that, in addition to a little extra supervision, there might be some other positive derivatives by asking you to check in on Mrs. Hughes. She’ll be so pleased when I tell her.”

Benj glanced at Clara, who would have managed a smile if a thorough blush hadn’t ensconced her cheeks.

“Glad to know I have your blessing,” Benj said, taking Clara’s hand in his and walking to meet his friend. “And have you accepted poor Edling yet?”

“I think I’m getting there.” He smiled.

“That’s fortunate,” Benj said. “We’ll be right in to tell the others. I just need to ask Clara a few questions first.”

Darcy nodded, smiled, and reentered the side door, as though he knew he wasn’t really necessary to the task at hand.

“Who knew he could be such a romantic?” Clara said, gesturing over her shoulder.

“I think most men can turn a little sappy when the right woman is involved.” He put his arm around her as they walked deeper into the garden. With Clara at his side, he didn’t care for any more interruptions, no matter how well-meaning they might be.

“Now, so that I can best assist you with your properties, would you mind telling me all that’s happened so far? Everything Stockton said.”

Her eyes shot sideways at him.

“Yes, I know his name, too. I saw you writing a letter to him when I delivered the teapot and did some research thereafter.”

Her eyes went wide. “You really have been spying on me! Is there anything you don’t know about me?”

“So much, my dearest Clara—but I can’t wait to find out all I don’t know over the coming years.”

BENJ ARRIVED EARLIER than Clara expected the next morning and slapped down a stack of missives on the small desk between them in the parlor.

“The letters you requested.” His voice sizzled with excitement. “And I haven’t even perused them yet.”

Clara shot him a glance. “You are sure Matlock won’t notice that all of these are missing?”

“My brother is terrible at managing his correspondence.” He smiled at her. “I doubt he reviews his opened letters more than twice a year. His habit is to stuff them into the lowest drawer until he can’t stuff any more of them.”

“Well, here we go,” she said, shuffling through the slightly crumpled set.

The more she’d explained to Benj yesterday, the more she wondered if maybe there was some connection between Stockton and Matlock.

In retelling the particulars, she just couldn’t figure out any other way that Matlock could have known so much, and when she’d described the previous number and then showed Benj the latest summary sheet from Stockton, all of it seemed far too drastic.

Within a half hour of looking through the letters, she found what seemed to be a response from Stockton to Matlock. She read it once, and by the second time through, her mouth hung open, and she passed it across the desk to Benj.

“My goodness,” Benj said quietly. “I knew my brother liked to get his way, but this is unconscionable.”

“I’m so sorry, Benj,” she whispered.

“Sorry?” His eyes went wide and met hers. “How can you have compassion on me at a time like this? You must be more of a saint than I previously thought not to be full of anger. My idiotic brother has blackmailed your solicitor and fed you lies so you’d marry him.”

“And you had the courage to tell me you loved me.”

Benj’s eyes went wide, and he lowered the paper. “Well, yes, I’m madly in love with you. But what has that got to do with this?”

“I would have never found all this out had your confidence not given me the confidence to understand my own feelings.”

He reached over, placed one hand on her cheek, and then kissed her. But she glanced at the clock. Matlock was due here soon. “So, we can safely assume—”