“He saw nothing but the gentle ruffling of the leaves in the wind, but as he finished his sweep of the area, he somehow knew."Sophie!"He heard a gasp, followed by a huge flurry of activity."Sophie Beckett," he yelled, "if you run from me right now, I swear I will follow you,and I will not take the time to don my clothing."The noises coming from the shore slowed."I will catch up with you," he continued, "because I'm stronger and faster. And I might very well feel compelled to tackle you to the ground, just to be certain you do not escape."The sounds of her movements ceased."Good," he grunted. "Show yourself."She didn't."Sophie," he warned.There was a beat of silence, followed by the sound of slow, hesitant footsteps, and then he saw her, standing on the shore in one of those awful dresses he'd like to see sunk to the bottom of the Thames."What are you doing here?" he demanded."I went for a walk.What are you doing here?" she countered. "You're supposed to be ill.That-" she waved her arm toward him and, by extension, the pond- "can't possibly be good for you."He ignored her question and comment. "Were you following me?""Of course not," she replied, and he rather believed her. He didn't think she possessed the acting talents to fake that level of righteousness."I would never follow you to a swimming hole," she continued. "It would be indecent."And then her face went completely red, because they both knew she hadn't a leg to stand on with that argument. If she had truly been concerned about decency, she'd have left the pond the second she'd seen him, accidentally or not.”

“She slid a slim volume of poetry off the shelf and returned to her chair, swishing her rather unnattractive skirts before she sat down.Benedict frowned. He'd never really noticed before how ugly her dress was. Not as bad as the one Mrs. Cabtree had lent her, but certainly not anything designed to bring out the best in a woman. He ought to buy her a new dress. She would never accept it,of course, but maybe if her current garments were accidentally burned..."Mr. Bridgerton?"But how could he manage to burn her dress? She'd have to not be wearing it, and that posed a certain challenge in and of itself..."Are you even listening to me?" Sophie demanded."Hmmm?""You're not listening to me.""Sorry," he admitted. "My apologies. My mind got away from me. Please continue."She began anew, and in his attempt to show how much attention he was paying her, he focused his eyes on her lips, which proved to be a big mistake.Because suddenly those lips were all he could see, and he couldn't stop thinking about kissing her, and he knew- absolutely knew-that if one of them didn't leave the room in the next thirty seconds, he was going to do something for which he'd owe her a thousand apologies.Not that he didn't plan to seduce her. Just that he'd rather do it with a bit more finesse."Oh, dear," he blurted out.Sophie gave him an odd look. He didn't blame her. He sounded like a complete idiot. He didn't think he'd uttered the phrase, "Oh,dear," in years. If ever.Hell,he sounded like his mother."Is something wrong?" Sophie asked."I just remembered something," he said, rather stupidly, in his opinion.She raised her brows in question."Something that I'd forgotten," Benedict said."The things one remembers," she said, looking exceedingly amused, "are most often things one had forgotten.”

“You'll stay," he said firmly."But-"He crossed his arms. "Do I look like a man in the mood to be argued with?"She stared at him mutinously. "If you run," he warned, "I will catch you."Sophie eyed the distance between them, then tried to judge the distance back to My Cottage.If he stopped to pull on his clothing she might have a chance of escaping, but if he didn't..."Sophie," he said, "I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears. Stop taxing your brain with useless mathematical computations and do as I asked."One of her feet twitched. Whether it was itching to run home or merely turn around, she'd never know."Now," he ordered.With a loud sigh and grumble, Sophie crossed her arms and turned around to stare at a knothole in the tree trunk in front of her as if her very life depended on it The inferal man wasn't being particularly quiet as he went about his business, and she couldn't seem to keep herself from listening to and trying to identify every sound that rustled and splashed behind her.Now he was emerging from the water, now he was reaching for his breeches, now he was...It was no use.She had a dreadfully wicked imagination, and there was no getting around it.He should have just let her return to the house. Instead she was forced to wait, utterly mortified, while he dressed. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and she was certain her cheeks must be eight different shades of red. A gentleman would have let her weasle out of her embarrassment and hole up in her room back at the house for at least three days in hopes that he'd just forget about the entire affair.”

“I would be pleased to participate in this conversation to a greater degree," he drawled, "except that you have not seen fit to share with me any of the details of your life.""It was not an oversight on my part."He clucked disapprovingly. "So hostile."Her eyes bugged out. "You abducted me-"Coerced," he reminded her."Do you want me to hit you?""I wouldn't mind it," he said mildly. "And besides, now that you're here, was it really so very terrible that I browbeat you into coming? You like my family, don't you?""Yes,but-""And they treat you fairly, right?""Yes,but-""Then what," he asked, his tone most supercilious, "is the problem?"Sophie almost lost her temper. She almost jumped to her feet and grabbed his shoulders and shook and shook and shook, but at the last moment she realized that that was exactly what he wanted her to do.And so instead she merely sniffed and said, "If you cannot recognize the problem, there is no way that I could explain it to you."He laughed,damn the man. "My goodness," he said, "that was an expert sidestep."She picked up her book and opened it. "I'm reading.""Trying,at least," he murmured.She flipped a page, even though she hadn't read that last two paragraphs. She was really just trying to make a show of ignoring him, and besides, she could always go back and read them later, after he left."Your book is upside down," he pointed out. Sophie gasped and looked down. "It is not!"He smiled slyly. "But you still had to look to be sure, didn't you?"She stood up and announced, "I'm going inside."He stood immediately. "And leave the splendid spring air?""And leave you," she retorted, even though his gesture of respect was not lost on her. Gentleman did not ordinarily stand for mere servants."Pity," he murmured. "I was having such fun."Sophie wondered how much injury he'd sustain if she threw the book at him. Probably not enough to make up for the loss to her dignity.”

“Why didn't you just let me run home?" she asked."I wanted you here," he said simply."But why?" she persisted.He shrugged. "I don't know.Punishment, perhaps, for spying on me.""I wasn't-" Sophie's denial was automatic, but she cut herself off halfway through, because of course she'd been spying on him."Smart girl," he murmured.She scowled at him. She would have liked to have said something utterly droll and witty, but she had a feeling that anything emerging from her mouth just then would have been quite the opposite,so she held her tongue. Better to be a silent fool than a talkative one."It's very bad to spy on one's host," he said, planting his hands on his hips and somehow managing to look both authoritative and relaxed at the same time."It as an accident," she grumbled."Oh,I believe you there," he said. "But even if you didn't intend to spy on me, the fact remains that when the opportunity arose, you took it.""Do you blame me?"He grinned. "Not at all.I would have done precisely the same thing."Her mouth fell open."Oh,don't pretend to be offended," he said."I'm not pretending."He leaned a bit closer. "To tell the truth, I'm quite flattered.""It was academic curiosity," she ground out, "I assure you."His smile grew sly. "So you're telling me that you would have spied upon any naked man you'd come across?""Of course not!""As I said," he drawled, leaning back against a tree, "I'm flattered.”

“What are you smiling about?" Benedict demanded.She didn't bother to glance up as she replied, "I'm plotting your demise."He grinned-not that she was looking at him, but it was one of those smiles she could hear in the way he breathed.She hated that she as that sensitive to his every nuance. Especially since she had a sneaking suspicion that he was the same way about her."At least it sounds entertaining,"he said."What does?" she asked, finally moving her eyes from the lower hem of the curtain, which she'd been staring at for what seemed like hours."My demise," he said, his smile crooked and amused. "If you're going to kill me, you might as well enjoy yourself while you're at it, because Lord knows, I won't."Her jaw dropped a good inch. "You're mad," she said.”

“I--" She swallowed, perhaps summoning her courage, then continued, "I would not lie to you and say that I did not want this.""Me," he cut in peevishly. "You wanted me."She closed her eyes. “Yes,” she finally said, “I wanted you.”Part of him wanted to interrupt again, to remind her that she still wanted him, that it wasn’t and would never be in the past.“But I can’t have you,” she said quietly, “and because of that, you can’t have me.”And then, to his complete astonishment, he asked, “What if I married you?”