“Let me try,” he said, and he took the ends and positionedhimself in front of her mirror.She watched him for about two seconds before declaring,“You’re going to have to go home.”His eyes did not leave the reflection of his neckcloth in themirror. “I haven’t even got past the first knot.”“And you’re not going to.”He gave her a supercilious look, brow quirked and all.“You’re never going to get it right,” she pronounced. “I mustsay, between this and your boots, I am revising my opinion on theimpracticalities of couture, male versus female.”“Really?”Her gaze dropped to his boots, polished to a perfect shine. “Noone has ever had to take a knife to my footwear.”“I wear nothing that buttons up the back,” he countered.“True, but I may choose a dress that buttons in the front,whereas you cannot go out and about without a neckcloth.”

“I am going to kill you," he hissed.She gulped. "Don't you want to lecture me first?"He stared at her with a heavy dose of stupefaction."I take that back," he said with precisely clippedwords. "First I am going to strangle you, and then I am going to kill you.""Here?" she asked doubtfully, looking around. "Won't my dead body look suspicious in the morning?”

“He gave her a sly, sideways look. "Did youbring it?""My list? Heavens, no. What can you be thinking?"His smile widened. "I brought mine."Daphne gasped. "You didn't!""I did. Just to torture Mother. I'm going peruse it right in front of her, pull out my quizzing glass—""You don't have a quizzing glass."He grinned—the slow, devastatingly wicked smile that all Bridgerton males seemed to possess. "I bought one just for this occasion.""Anthony, you absolutely cannot. She will kill you. And then, somehow, she'll find a way to blame me.""I'm counting on it.”

“Michael, I am most pleased to see you up and about and looking so fine and healthy.”He inclined his head, thanking her for the compliment.She dabbed the corners of her mouth daintily with her napkin. “But now you must attend to your responsibilities as the earl.”He groaned.“Don‟t be so petulant,” Janet said. “No one is going to hang you up by your thumbs. All I was going to say is that you must go to the tailor and make sure you have proper evening clothes.”“Are you certain I can‟t donate my thumbs instead?”

“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.”

“I love you, too,” she said.He took her face in his hands and kissed her, once,deeply, on the mouth. “I mean,” he said, “I really loveyou.”She quirked a brow. “Is this a contest?”“It is anything you want,” he promised.She grinned, that enchanting, perfect smile that was soquintessentially hers. “I feel I must warn you, then,” shesaid, cocking her head to the side. “When it comes tocontests and games, I always win.”“Always?”Her eyes grew sly. “Whenever it matters.”He felt himself smile, felt his soul lighten and his worriesslip away. “And what, precisely, does that mean?”“It means,” she said, reaching up and undoing the buttonsof her coat, “that I really really love you.”

“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.”