“I had the pleasure of dining with yourbrother.”“Gregory? Really? You’d classify it as a pleasure?” But he wasgrinning as he said it, and Honoria could instantly picture what lifemust be like in the Bridgerton household: a great deal of teasing anda great deal of love.“He was most gracious to me,” she said with a smile.“Shall I tell you a secret?” Mr. Bridgerton murmured, andHonoria decided that in his case, it was right and proper to listen togossip—he was an incredible flirt.“Must I keep the secret?” she asked, leaning forward ever-soslightly.“Definitely not.”She gave him a sunny smile. “Then yes, please.”Mr. Bridgerton leaned in, just about as far as she had done. “Hehas been known to catapult peas across the supper table.”Honoria gave him a very somber nod. “Has he done thisrecently?”“Not too recently, no.”She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. It was lovelyto witness this type of sibling teasing. There used to be so much of itin her home, although most of the time she’d been but a witness.She was so much younger than the rest of her siblings; in allhonesty, most of the time they’d probably just forgotten to teaseher.“I have but one question, Mr. Bridgerton.”He cocked his head.“How was this catapult constructed?”He grinned. “Simple spoon, Lady Honoria. But in Gregory’sdevious hands, there was nothing simple about it.”

“Honoria couldn’t help but watch her make her way over toDaisy, and Mr. Bridgerton said, “Don’t worry, she’s mostlyharmless.”“My cousin Daisy?” she asked dubiously.“No,” he replied, momentarily nonplussed. “Lady Danbury.”Honoria looked past him to Daisy and Lady Danbury. “Is shedeaf?”“Your cousin Daisy?”“No, Lady Danbury.”“I don’t believe so.”“Oh.” Honoria winced. “That’s too bad. She might be by thetime Daisy is through with her.“That’s not going to end well,” he murmured.Honoria could do nothing but shake her head and murmur,“No.”“Is your cousin fond of her toes?”Honoria blinked in confusion. “I believe so, yes.”“She’ll want to watch that cane, then.”Honoria looked back just in time to see Daisy let out a smallshriek as she tried to jump back. She was not successful with thelatter; Lady Danbury’s cane had her pinned rather firmly.”

“So he decided to stay out of it and instead turned backto Lady Bridgerton, who was, as it happened, the closestperson to him, anyway. “And how are you this afternoon?”he asked.Lady Bridgerton gave him a very small smile as shehanded him his cup of tea. “Smart man,” she murmured.“It’s self-preservation, really,” he said noncommittally.“Don’t say that. They wouldn’t hurt you.”“No, but I’m sure to be injured in the cross fire.”

“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.”

“In his heart, she’d been smiling for him.But now she was smiling at Colin Bridgerton, he of the famous charm and sparkling green eyes.”

“The youngest one,” she interrupted. “The youngest son, I mean. The one who is unmarried.”“I know who he is.”“Very well, then. What is wrong with him?” At that she cocked her head to the side and waited expectantly.He thought for a moment. “Nothing.”“You—wait.” She blinked. “Nothing?”He shook his head, then shifted his weight a little; his good foot was beginning to fall asleep. “Nothing comes immediately to mind.” It was true. She could do a good deal worse than Gregory Bridgerton.“Really?” she asked suspiciously. “You find nothing at all objectionable about him.”Marcus pretended to think about this a bit longer. Clearly he was supposed to be playing a role here, probably that of the villain. Or if not that, then the grumpy old man. “I suppose he’s a bit young,” he said.”