“Let me drive," she said, reaching for the reins.He turned to her in disbelief. "This is a phaeton, not a single-horse wagon."Sophie fought the urge to throttle him. His nose was running, his eyes were red, he couldn't stop coughing, and still he found the energy to act like an arrogant peacock. "I assure you," she said slowly, "that I know how to drive a team of horses.”

“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.”

“Ellie fought the urge to stamp her foot. "I meant it this time. Do you accept my apology?""It appears," he said, raising his eyebrows, "that you might do me bodily harm if I do not.""Ungracious prig," she muttered. "I am trying to apologize.""And I," he said, "am trying to accept.”

“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.”

“She thumped her weapon (others might call it a cane, but heknew better) against the floor. “Fell off your horse?”“No, I—”“Tripped down the stairs? Dropped a bottle on your foot?” Herexpression grew sly. “Or does it involve a woman?”He fought the urge to cross his arms. She was looking up at himwith a bit of a smirk. She liked poking fun at her companions; she’donce told him that the best part of growing old was that she couldsay anything she wanted with impunity.He leaned down and said with great gravity, “Actually, I wasstabbed by my valet.”It was, perhaps, the only time in his life he’d managed to stunher into silence.Her mouth fell open, her eyes grew wide, and he would haveliked to have thought that she even went pale, but her skin had suchan odd tone to begin with that it was hard to say. Then, after amoment of shock, she let out a bark of laughter and said, “No,really. What happened?”“Exactly as I said. I was stabbed.” He waited a moment, thenadded, “If we weren’t in the middle of a ballroom, I’d show you.”“You don’t say?” Now she was really interested. She leaned in,eyes alight with macabre curiosity. “Is it gruesome?”“It was,” he confirmed.She pressed her lips together, and her eyes narrowed as sheasked, “And where is your valet now?”“At Chatteris House, likely nicking a glass of my best brandy.”She let out another one of her staccato barks of laughter.”

“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?”

“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.”