“There,” she said triumphantly. “Like that.”He began to wonder if they were speaking the same language.“Like what?”“That! What you just said.”He crossed his arms. It seemed the only acceptable reply. If shecouldn’t speak in complete sentences, he saw no reason why hehad to speak at all.”

“Speaking of which,” he murmured.Hyacinth’s mouth fell open as he dropped down to oneknee. “What are you doing?” she squeaked, franticallylooking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peekingout at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.“Someone will see,” she whispered.He seemed unconcerned. “People will say we’re inlove.”“I—” Good heavens, but how did a woman argueagainst that?“Hyacinth Bridgerton,” he said, taking her hand in his,“will you marry me?”She blinked in confusion. “I already said I would.”“Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.They were mostly the right reasons, but not all.”“I—I—” She was stumbling on the words, choking onthe emotion.He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear andblue in the dim light of the streetlamps. “I am asking youto marry me because I love you,” he said”

“He sucked his lips in an attempt not to laugh. "Aren't you Spanish?"She raised one arm in a salute. "Viva la Queen Isabella!""I see. Then why are you speaking with a French accent?”

“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.”

“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.”

“He shook his head in wonder. "You are magnificent.""I keep telling everyone that," she said with a nonchalant shrug, "But you seem to be the only one to believe me.”

“I think your eyes might be the exact same color as mine," she said wonderingly."What fine gray-eyed babies we shall have," he said, before he thought the better of it.”