“Gareth?” Hyacinth said softly.He turned to her, wondering how long he’d been standing there, pondering his options. “Hyacinth,” he said.She looked at him expectantly.“Hyacinth,” he said again, this time with a bit more certitude. He smiled, letting his eyes melt into hers. “Hyacinth.”“We know her name,” came his grandmother’s voice.Gareth ignored her and pushed a table aside so that he could drop to one knee. “Hyacinth,” he said, relishing her gasp as he took her hand in his, “would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”Her eyes widened, then misted, and her lips, which he’d been kissing so deliciously mere hours earlier, began to quiver. “I…I…”It was unlike her to be so without words, and he was enjoying it, especially the show of emotion on her face.“I…I…”“Yes!” his grandmother finally yelled. “Yes! She’ll marry you!”“She can speak for herself,” he said.“No,” Lady D said, “she can’t. Quite obviously.”

“You’ll be seeing him tomorrow night, anyway.”“I am?” Hyacinth asked, at precisely the moment Mr. St. Clair said, “She will?”“You’re accompanying me to the Pleinsworth poetry reading,” Lady D told her grandson. “Or have you forgotten?”Hyacinth sat back, enjoying the sight of Gareth St. Clair’s mouth opening and closing in obvious distress. He looked a bit like a fish, she decided. A fish with the features of a Greek god, but still, a fish.“I really…” he said. “That is to say, I can’t—”“You can, and you will be there,” Lady D said. “You promised.”He regarded her with a stern expression. “I cannot imagine—”“Well, if you didn’t promise, you should have done, and if you love me…”Hyacinth coughed to cover her laugh, then tried not to smirk when Mr. St. Clair shot a dirty look in her direction.“When I die,” he said, “surely my epitaph will read, ‘He loved his grandmother when no one else would.’”“And what’s wrong with that?” Lady Danbury asked.”

“He turned to her. “Didn’t you see the lightning strike the steeple?”She recovered with a sip of tea, then smiled sweetly. “I was listening too devotedly to the sermon.”“Claptrap last week,” Lady D announced. “I think the priest is getting old.”Gareth opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, his grandmother’s cane swung around in a remarkably steady horizontal arc. “Don’t,” she warned, “make a comment beginning with the words, ‘Coming from you…’”“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he demurred.“Of course you would,” she stated. “You wouldn’t be my grandson if you wouldn’t.” She turned to Hyacinth. “Don’t you agree?”To her credit, Hyacinth folded her hands in her lap and said, “Surely there is no right answer to that question.”“Smart girl,” Lady D said approvingly.“I learn from the master.”Lady Danbury beamed.”

“What is your name?" she asked."Names are like clothes, lady. I have many.""And which one do you wear tonight?"The god smiled. She could see he liked her words. He pulled her to him, pressed his wolf lips to hers and said, "My name is Misery, and would you know yet more?""Yes," said the girl, breathing in his scent, the scent of something beautiful, strange and burned. "I would know more."He flicked at her lips with his tongue and whispered, "So is yours.”

“Hyacinth,” Lady Bridgerton said in a vaguely disapproving voice, “do try to speak in complete sentences.”Hyacinth looked at her mother with a surprised expression. “Biscuits. Are. Good.” She cocked her head to the side. “Noun. Verb. Adjective.”“Hyacinth.”“Noun. Verb. Adjective.” Colin said, wiping a crumb from his grinning face. “Sentence. Is. Correct.”

“Sophie stared at the door, trying desperately to keep her eyes focused on anything but Benedict. She'd spent all week hoping for a glimpse,but now that he was here, all she wanted was to escape. If she looked at his face, her eyes inevitably strayed to his lips. And if she looked at his lips, her thoughts immediately went to their kiss. And if she thought about the kiss..."I need that thimble," she blurted out, jumping to her feet. There were some things one just shouldn't think about in public."So you said," Benedict murmured, one of his eyebrows quirking up into a perfect-and perfectly arrogant-arch."It's downstairs," she muttered. "In my room.""But your room is upstairs," Hyacinth said.Sophie could have killed her. "That's what I said," she ground out."No," Hyacinth said in a matter-of-fact tone, "you didn't.""Yes," Lady Bridgerton said, "she did. I heard her."Sophie twisted her head sharply to look at Lady Bridgerton and knew in an instant that the older woman had lied. "I have to get that thimble," she said, for what seemed like the thirtieth time. She hurried toward the doorway, gulping as she grew close to Benedict."Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he said, stepping aside to allow her through the doorway.But as she brushed past him, he leaned forward, whispering, "Coward.”