Sebastian groaned, though his smile did not falter. “Amelia wished to keep it quiet for a time, but with Cassian drinking to it in White’s, discretion is well and truly finished.”
“Cassian does not deal in discretion,” Benedict said coolly.
“Not mine, no,” Cassian replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “But others? That is another matter. A man learns more in a single night at The Arrangement than in a week at Westminster.”
“Enough of me,” Sebastian said at last, still grinning. “Benedict, you have been glowering into that glass all evening. What weighs on you? Is it the new estate?”
“I have just been busy handling Frostmore, which has proven harder than I anticipated,” Benedict said with a sigh. His pause lingered too long, and before he could stop himself, he added, “And… Miss Dawson.”
Cassian’s head snapped round like a hound scenting game. “Miss Dawson? Who is she, and why am I only hearing of her now?”
“She is the dowager’s niece,” Benedict said shortly.
He massaged his temples, warring with the memories of trying to settle all of his estate and, worst of all, Anastasia. A woman who had been thrown into the mix and discombobulated hissenses. All right, maybe not entirely, but he needed to get rid of her before she did.
Cassian leaned forward, eyes bright with mischief. “I know that look. She is beautiful. Tell us everything, Benedict.”
Benedict’s jaw clenched. “What she is, is troublesome.”
“Troublesome?” Sebastian repeated, his tone far too mild to be innocent. “You say that with the same gravity one might use to describe Napoleon.”
“Sheistroublesome,” Benedict said firmly, unwilling to let them bait him. “Defiant, loud-mouthed. Entirely unladylike. Every word out of her lips is designed to provoke.”
Cassian’s grin spread slowly and dangerously. “Which explains why you cannot stop speaking of her.”
Benedict’s jaw tightened. “I barely mention her because she complicates matters. My uncle’s will binds my inheritance to her marriage prospects. Until she is wed, I cannot access the funds.”
“Ah,” Sebastian said, understanding dawning in his expression. “So the problem is not Miss Dawson herself, but the fact that she is unmarr—” He broke off with a laugh. “No, I cannot even finish that sentence. Benedict, she has you entirely undone.”
“She has me nothing,” Benedict snapped, his glass hitting the table harder than intended. “What she has is a reputation so scandalous that half of London would cross the street to avoid her. Finding her a husband will be near impossible.”
Cassian leaned back in his chair, swirling the brandy in his glass as if savoring the irony. “Beautiful. Ruined. And under your roof. God preserve us, Benedict. It sounds less like a problem and more like temptation given form.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Or a trap of Benedict’s own making. Tell me, is she truly as impossible as you claim? Or merely impossible for you?”
“I do not intend to find out,” Benedict bit out, though even as he said it, the image of Anastasia’s defiant chin and laughing green eyes flared in his mind.
Cassian leaned back, grinning. “Ah. So, she is both. Excellent.”
“She isnotexcellent,” Benedict snapped. “She is defiant, loud-mouthed, and incorrigible. If you had seen her… she provokes me at every turn!”
Sebastian’s brow arched, amusement clear. “Careful, Benedict. You sound almost admiring.”
“Do not be ridiculous. I sound accurate. And exasperated.”
Cassian wagged his glass at him. “Benedict, you have just described the only sort of woman who could ever hold your attention longer than a ledger.”
“Do not get ahead of yourself, Cassian. She requires a husband,” Benedict said flatly, ignoring them both. “That is why I am in London. To find her a respectable match.”
Cassian pulled a face. “Respectable? Poor woman. You will saddle her with some dreary fellow who thinks passion is a parlor game.”
Benedict’s frown deepened, and he redirected the conversation to the matter at hand. “Enough of that. Do you have any bachelors in mind or not?”
“My grandmother would surely be better at this, but…” Sebastian tapped his chin. “How about Lord Benton Frye? He isvery agreeable and has a nursery of some of the finest spices—”
“Anastasia would devour him whole,” Benedict cut in. “She would not be impressed by his nursery either.”
Sebastian mused. “Amelia was pretty impressed by it. She had been there once and would not stop gushing about how she wanted to start one.”
