“No. But you’ve been concerned about Jane all winter, when she and Freddy spent so much time in Surrey. So, what’s the trouble, Haslemere?”
Benedict stared at the fire for a moment, watching the embers smolder in the grate. “I don’t know that thereistrouble. Jane hasn’t said a word, but the truth is I’m…a trifle concerned.” More than a trifle, after hearing thegossip tonight.
“I know you are. You’re not as mysterious as you think, Haslemere.”
“I can’t make sense of it, Darlington. Jane tells me everything, but not a word of complaint has passed her lips about whatever it is that’s troubling her. Freddy is subdued, as well.” Benedict hesitated before meeting Darlington’s eyes. “You heard the rumors tonight, about Jane and Draven.”
“I did.” Darlington swirled the brandy in his glass. “I don’t believe a word of it, and I can’t imagine you do, either.”
Benedict shook his head. “No, but I know my sister, and she hasn’t been herself for months now. She’s never kept a secret from me before, and I can’t help but think…whatever is amiss, it’s bad, Darlington. Bad enough she’s afraid to tell me.”
Darlington was quiet for a moment, then he asked, “What do you mean to do about it?”
Benedict sighed. He should have known he’d end up confessing the whole of it to Darlington. “I went to the Clifford School tonight. I was there when you dropped Miss Harley off.”
Darlington snorted. “I know. I saw your carriage. I told you, Haslemere—you’re not nearly as stealthy as you think you are. Next time tell Grigg to wait a few blocks away.”
“Well, Darlington, since you know everything, then it must have occurred to you Miss Harley asked you to bring her to Lady Wylde’s ball because she and Lady Clifford are prying into Jane’s affairs.”
“I don’t know that that’s true, but I admit it did occur to me, yes. If Jane is in any difficulty, Miss Harley will find out what it is. She’sa clever lady.”
Georgiana Harley’s stubborn expression flashed in Benedict’s mind. “Clever, yes, but the woman has all the warmth and compassion of a stick of wood.” Just thinking of those cool brown eyes was making Benedict’stemper spike.
Darlington made a noise that sounded like a smothered laugh. “Casting aspersions on Miss Harley’s good name, Haslemere? I will do you the favor of not repeating your ungentlemanly description to Cecilia. Now, I take it you tried to pry some information out of Miss Harley?”
“I did. She refused to say a word.” Mulish, bad-tempered, stony-faced chit. Pretty eyes, though. Were they truly brownafter all, or—
“You mean to say she saidno?” Darlington set his tumbler aside with extreme care, as if everything he’d ever believed about the world had just been turned insideout. “Toyou?”
“Yes, damn her.” It was just beginning to sink in how little information he’d pried out of her. Not only hadn’t she told him who Clara Beauchamp was, but she’d refused to say who’d asked her to delve into Jane’s affairs, or if she evenwasdelving into them.
Darlington chuckled. “You were bound to stumble across a lady who’s immune to your charms sooner or later.”
Benedict pounded a fist on his knee. “I tell you, Darlington, nothing I said could move her in my favor. I swear she’s got a cold, dead stone where her heart should be.”
“There must be some way topersuade her.”
“How? I tried everything I could think of. I smiled and flirted and charmed myself to exhaustion. I was bloody adorable, and it didn’t do a damn bit of good.”
Darlington rolled his eyes. “Flirting won’t work with Miss Harley. There isn’t a bit of the coquette in the lady. You’ll have to think of some other way.”
“How am I to know what she wants?” All Benedict knew was she didn’t wanthim. Once he’d determined that, he hadn’t the faintest idea whatto do with her.
“Well, she must wantsomething, Haslemere. I haven’t yet met a person who didn’t.”
Benedict was quiet as he wracked his brains for any insight into what a woman like Georgiana Harley might want. A horsewhip, perhaps? A razor-edged blade to match her tongue? He could only think of one thing, and God knew she needed it to sweeten that sour temper of hers. “She’s ah…she’s fondof preserves.”
Darlington’s lips twitched. “Preserves?”
“Yes. I startled her when I came upon her this evening, and she dropped the jar of preserves she was carrying.” It had looked to Benedict as if the loss of those damned preserves was going to driveher to tears.
Darlington started laughing. “You spoiled her jar of quince preserves? Well, I’m no longer surprised she refused to help you. Cecilia gave them to her tonight, and Miss Harley was delighted with the gift. Apparently, she’s mad for sweets, especially those preserves.”
Benedict had a hard time imagining Miss Harley mad for anything. “Do you suppose Lady Darlington can get me another jar?”
“I don’t think a jar of preserves will work, Haslemere. You’ll have to do better than that.”
Those bloody preserves. It was the only time she showed any emotion the entire time he wasin her company—
