“Me?” Miles replied in surprise.
He nodded earnestly. “You understand grief, more so than I ever could. I’ve tried talking to Edwina but she won’t listen to me.”
Miles frowned, unsure if he was the right person to comfort Edwina. Or anyone, for that matter. “I don’t know. How do you know she will listen to me?”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Bennett grinned. “You are very personable.”
“I used to be, but not anymore. Those days are long gone,” Miles admitted.
A mischievous glint came into Bennett’s eyes. “I know. I remember growing tired of your incessant chatter when we were younger.”
“That was you,” Miles retorted.
“Perhaps,” Bennett conceded with a shrug, “but I know how much you love to hear your own voice.”
Miles glanced heavenward with mock exasperation. “Again, that isyou.”
Bennett gripped his lapels and said, “You are right. And what a glorious voice I have. It can make the ladies swoon.”
He was tired of this pointless conversation so he attempted to steer the conversation back to Edwina. “Regardless, I do believe that your cousin is still angry at me,” Miles said.
“Did you not apologize?”
Miles winced. “I did, but the apology went awry rather quickly.”
Bennett’s expression remained unperturbed by what he had just revealed. “I suspected as much, knowing how stubborn both of you can be. Edwina may be reserved at times, but she can be rather feisty, given the circumstances.”
“I have witnessed that firsthand.”
His friend continued down the aisle and stopped by a stall that housed a black horse. “This was my uncle’s horse,” he revealed. “Hercules won’t let anyone ride him now that my uncle is gone. I know because I have tried, multiple times, in fact.”
“Horses can be finicky,” Miles attempted.
“My father wants to sell Hercules, making it someone else’s problem, but I have refused to do so,” Bennett said. “I see a kindred soul in this horse.”
Miles approached the black horse and studied it. “You could fetch a pretty penny selling this horse.”
“Some things are more important than the money.”
“Well said,” Miles agreed. “Hopefully, with time, Hercules will begin to trust you, eventually allowing you to ride it.”
Bennett looked unconvinced. “That might take some time.”
“Do you have something else that is more pressing?” Miles asked.
“I am an earl.”
Miles shrugged. “Who isn’t?” he quipped.
Reaching into a bucket, Bennett retrieved an apple and held it up to the horse. “I never asked for this, you know.”
“Neither did I,” Miles said.
“Yet, here we are,” Bennett responded. “Now I can’t go anywhere without women batting their eyelashes at me. I don’t think they see me as much as the title. It is unnerving.”
Miles nodded his understanding. “No one cared about mewhen I was the second son of an earl.” He paused. “Well, except for Arabella. She loved me for who I was, not my position in Society.”
“Arabella was good for you.”
