Her nod was sympathetic.
“Where is his estate?”
“Bennet Hall? It’s in Kent. On the way to my family’s country estate. And Lizzie’s. Now he’s?—”
“Don’t, please. I can take no more. My pride will not survive it.”
Miss Grayson giggled at his expense. From the corner of his eye, he caught Eliza turning his way.
When her gaze returned to her partner, he turned back to his. “Please, you must help me. I… How can I— I want to…”
“Continue to delight her?”
“Yes,” he said with a sigh.
“You’ve done well, all on your own. Be careful when you dance with Sophie, though. Eliza’s had a few dance partners who used her to gather intelligence or gain an introduction to Sophie.”
Benedict’s stomach sank. “As I’ve now done to you… I apologize most?—”
“Oh, it’s not at all the same. You’ve not feigned interest in me. It is plain you only have eyes for Lizzie.”
“Still, I feel?—”
“Truly, I am not injured. I am only pleased to have seen the floor from atop it at least once this season. But you must remember yourself with Sophie.”
“Miss Eliza would have cause to doubt my intentions, even now?”
“The lessons learned over many years are not forgotten in mere days.”
Benedict sighed, “How am I ever to prove myself?”
“Do as I said,” she retorted with a determined nod.
The severity of the gesture left him chuckling quietly. “Any other advice for the evening?”
“Ask Emma to dance after Sophie. She spends too much time on the wall as well.”
Benedict winced. “Which one is Emma? I know the Ainsley girls have red hair, but…”
“Emma has blue eyes. She’s the elder who prefers the bakery. Georgiana has brown, and she works at the club.”
“Thank you.” He caught her gaze to ensure she understood the depth of his gratitude. “Alright, I’ve braced myself again. What have they been saying?”
The corner of Miss Grayson’s lip turned up. “She’s been talking about you, mostly.”
“Truly?”
“Truly. The flowers, the club—where you defended her honor…”
Benedict made little effort to hide his pleasure, and Miss Grayson giggled at whatever absurdity she read across his face.
Before he could delight her still further, the song came to a close.
“Thank you for the dance.”
“Thankyou,” he replied as he escorted her back to her mother. There, Eliza and a few others awaited them.
He found himself trapped in Eliza’s orbit once more. Her smile was warm and welcoming. Slowly, deliberately, with her eyes still on his, she allowed the back of her glove-covered wrist to brush against his. The touch soothed something inside him. The jealous beast lowered his hackles, quieting in his cage, and once more, Benedict could breathe.
