Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

" A bsolutely not," spluttered Thalia. As she warred with the sensations that such a memory stirred up within her, she struggled to find her next words. Turning slightly away, she warned, "Now I have half a mind not to thank you."

Benedict's brow flicked skyward once more. "Thank me?"

Trying to regain her composure, Thalia nodded once. "Yes. For what you said at dinner. To Lord Luton."

"What about it?"

Infuriating. He was going to make her practically spell it out. "For defending me," she sighed, flicking a glance over her shoulder as she kept her voice low. "He spoke harshly." She hung her head. "It was kind of you to come to my aid."

When she glanced back up at him, Benedict was regarding her strangely. "You are rather beautiful," he murmured thoughtfully. "When you are not angry with me."

A furious blush climbed Thalia's cheeks as her heart began to race. She opened her mouth, but not a sound emerged.

Benedict chuckled. "So," he added, straightening up in mock pride. "You have changed your opinion of me then?"

"No," Thalia protested. "I have not. But," she admitted, "I would be remiss if I did not thank you for what you did for me. It is a poor woman indeed who cannot express gratitude for a good deed, no matter her feelings toward the doer."

"Oh?" Benedict took a step closer. "And what are your feelings toward me?"

Thalia swallowed hard. She forced her head up, chin jutting out in defiance. "I feel nothing toward you, Your Grace. Only a slight disgust at the thought of your courtship of my sister. Something, you should know, that I will not allow to go on. My resolve in that matter has not changed in the slightest."

"Indeed?"

Benedict was standing very near now. Thalia was unsettled to find that she was instantly reminded of the last time he had been so near. Of the way her body had reacted to his nearness. His touch.

"Indeed," she continued, noting that her voice shook a little as she spoke. "You would be wise to give her up now. It will save us all the trouble of your future disappointment."

"You seem to think, Lady Thalia, that I am a man who will give up so easily." Reaching out, he let a finger trail down her neck from jaw to the very edge of her collarbone. Burning heat trailed after his touch. "Let me assure you, I am not."

Thalia fought against the delicious sensation, the tingles of his finger doing something entirely inappropriate to her. She glanced around. Had anyone seen Benedict touch her?

"But," Benedict continued, dropping his hand as he regarded her with a distant sort of amusement. "You have been a very good girl to come and thank me."

Instantly, Thalia's entire body was on fire. She knew she was blushing furiously, but it had come upon her so quickly, she hardly knew what to do. She watched as Benedict registered this and grinned. But it was not a surprised grin. It was as if he had been testing her and, seeing the desired result of his words, was now enjoying his prize.

Thalia did not have the time or the desire to try and understand why Benedict's words had such an effect on her.

"Why did you do it?" The question was out of her before she knew what was happening.

Benedict thought about this for a moment. "Defend you? I couldn't very well have my future sister-in-law's name dragged through the dirt, could I? What would the future Duchess of Ravenwood say?"

As she registered this, Thalia was surprised – and then embarrassed – to note her disappointment. But she hurriedly tried to reason it away. What had she been expecting? That he had simply come to her defense simply because he admired her? Respected her? That would have been absurd.

Still, Thalia took a step back. "I, I must rejoin the ladies," she murmured, eager to excuse herself from this thoroughly confusing conversation.

When Benedict said nothing, she turned and made her hasty retreat.

Benedict watched Thalia go. For a woman who seemed to prize herself on her stoic, rational nature, she had just exhibited a whole host of emotions to him.

And he had thoroughly enjoyed the show. Indeed, he enjoyed, too, watching her take her leave, her skirts swishing around what he could only assume was a truly beautiful rump. He would enjoy watching her ride a horse, he mused. It would be gratifying to watch the tender parts of her bounce with the animal's rhythm.

As the temperature of his blood rose at such a thought, he forced himself to turn away.

His plan was working. He was breaking down her walls, pulling brick by brick to the ground as her defenses yielded to him.

And then…

Then he would marry her sister, of course. He would finally have Thalia out of his way and, with her blessing, would take her sister to be his duchess. That was what he wanted, right?

And that was why he had defended Thalia at dinner. Sure, he had felt a certain kind of irritation at Lord Luton's careless words. Benedict had been downright angry at his callousness. But that was because she would soon be associated with him. The duke would not tolerate anyone in his close circle to be made a fool of.

Continuing to convince himself that this was the only reason he had come to Thalia's defense, Benedict made his way down the hall and into the room where the men of the party were gathered.

As soon as he stepped inside, the smell of smoke wafted deliciously around him. It was a fragrant, bitter, and thoroughly familiar smell. And it told the duke that his guests were already thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Benedict hovered in the doorway, eyeing his guests. It was a fairly small group that had been invited to the house party. Not that Benedict could not accommodate more. But this party had been planned for a specific purpose. One which required a reduced gathering of attendees.

He wondered if Thalia had noticed how few young ladies were present. If anyone was to notice, it would be her. With her shrewd eyes, she would have not only made note of such a situation but would have guessed at the reasoning behind it: Benedict wanted to spend as much time with Selina as possible.

Now that he had made up his mind about making her his Duchess, he did not want any other young women getting in his way. They would only be a hindrance, and they would, inevitably be disappointed when his attentions remained on Selina instead of them. Benedict was not a fool. He knew that he was considered one of the ton's most eligible bachelors. A fact which he had taken full advantage of as a roguish bachelor. And, indeed, something which he would continue to take advantage of as a married man.

"Drink?"

Benedict realized he had been lost in thought as Lord Harwood pressed a glass into his hand. Benedict chuckled. "You know me too well."

"It is a fine group," mused the lord, glancing around at the men gathered before them. "Though a little mismatched, do not you think?"

"Oh? How so?"

"I fear you youngsters are far outweighed by the many grey-haired faces which you have invited onto your estate." Lord Harwood fixed Benedict in an amused but analytical stare. "What do you have planned, Your Grace?"

Benedict chuckled. "I simply wish to take advantage of the wisdom which may be obtained by those older and more experienced than I. Is that so wrong?"

"I do not believe you for an instant," chuckled Lord Harwood. "But I know better than to try and sus out your methods." The man started to move away and then stopped. "I only caught part of what was said, but I believe you showed fine quality as a host at dinner tonight. Lord Luton was out of place. I was glad to see you put him back into it."

"I doubt he shall be very happy with me for the next few days," Benedict mused, his gaze going to the man in question. Lord Luton stood by the window, deep in conversation with a thin, sour-looking man around Lord Harwood's age.

"Well, he shall have to get over it. Bad behavior deserves a harsh word or two. And you can tell him that I said that."

Benedict thanked the man with an amused smile. It would have been nice for Lord Harwood to speak up when Thalia was being insulted by Lord Luton, instead of waiting to express his opinion after the fact, but at least the man was in agreement with Benedict.

Curious as to what was now engaging Lord Luton so deeply in conversation, Benedict moved casually to the window behind them. From there, looking out over the estate, he could easily overhear.

Both men had been invited to the house party out of obligation. Their business connections with the duke would not allow Benedict to snub such men by withholding an invitation.

"A pity there are not more," mused the older man.

Lord Luton chuckled. "Indeed. It is quite unlike the duke. I assumed we would be surrounded by pretty figures at a party like this."

"Well, at least we have one beautiful face to look at. I do think Lady Selina might be the most delicious young woman in the ton ."

"Heaven knows she certainly carries the bulk of her family's good looks," added Luton's companion. "There is no doubt why His Grace has invited her. What a pity that her sister is most plain in comparison."

"Do not let the duke hear you say that," cautioned Lord Luton with a chuckle. "He is clearly trying to get on good terms with the whole family. He tried to defend Lady Thalia's honor to me at dinner. If that does not win over Lady Selina's spinster sister, I don't know what will."

" I know what will," added his companion with a wicked laugh. "I know exactly what would bring her to her knees ."

Benedict's grip on his drink tightened. He knew exactly what the man was referring to. But Lord Luton, it would seem, was eager to have it spelled out for him.

"You rogue! Could you really win an ugly spinster like her over?" Luton asked, joining in on the laughter. "I do not think that I would have the stomach for it."

"Easy," replied the man. "Would not a woman like her be grateful for anything that I would give her? She's a dog, begging for a scrap of the affection that is showered on her sister. She may be ugly, but I assure you, Luton, that it, too, can be used. A woman of her low status and unfavorable looks would be eager for my attention."

"A little flirtation here, a compliment there…" There was a snap. "Just like that, I'd have won her over," the man continued. "And then, I would have some real fun. To show her gratitude, I would ensure that she ended up on her knees, showing me just how thankful she was. And, thankfully, from that angle, I wouldn't be able to see that ugly mug of hers."

The men cackled at that. Benedict realized that, if he held his glass any tighter, it would shatter in his hands.

There was a pause and then Lord Luton smacked his lips, having taken a sip of his drink. "I will give His Grace one thing," he continued. "He is persistent to an extreme. If he has set his sights on Lady Selina, for one reason or another, then he will have her. Even if he has to tame her older sister in the process."

"It will be a shame to have someone else lay claim to Lady Selina. But we are still allowed to enjoy the fine view in the meantime, are we not?" chuckled the older man.

As the chink of glasses informed Benedict that the men were toasting to such a smarmy suggestion, Benedict's jaw twitched in outrage. He had said many such roguish things in the past, but this felt different. He disliked hearing the sisters talked about so crudely. The men could speculate on Benedict's intentions all they liked, but they were not allowed to insult his guests.

"It is indeed a fine view," he said, raising his voice just a little as he slowly turned from the window to face the men.

He watched with satisfaction as they both jumped, the older turning red as he realized that their host had been standing right behind them.

"But if you grow tired of it," he continued, crossing to stand before Lord Luton, "you are more than welcome to leave." He skewered both men with a long, hard look. "Until then, I should warn you – offend my future family once more and I will see that you not only lose all business associated with me and this estate, but I will ensure you are ostracized from the whole of London society." He paused, watching as his threat settled in. He could see in their wide eyes that they were utterly certain that he was capable of such things.

As both men struggled to reply, Benedict downed the rest of his drink and eyed the bottom of the glass casually. "Another, I think." Then, keeping them locked in his gaze, he raised his voice. "May I offer you another drink, Lord Windham?" he called.

Enjoying the confused looks on their faces, Benedict turned away. They had not finished their gossip, he knew. But he had at least made it clear that he would not tolerate such flippant disregard of courtesy. Now, when they did set about trying to parse out his motives, they would at least be respectful enough to do it behind closed doors.

As Benedict moved to sit beside Selina's father, Lord Windham seemed thoroughly confused to have been singled out by the duke. Handing the older man a drink, Benedict smiled. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, yes indeed." Lord Windham looked around the room. "I must admit that I have not been to such a gathering in some time. I tend to keep to myself these days. But I concede that I am enjoying myself thoroughly."

"What was it that convinced you to join us this weekend, then?" asked the duke, already harboring a faint idea as to the man's answer.

Lord Windham chuckled. "Well, I hardly need to tell you such a thing. I would imagine you already know."

Benedict smiled. Though the man seemed unwilling – or unable – to engage in matters of business or marriage, he was at least aware of what was going on before him. Benedict could appreciate that.

When the duke did not reply, Lord Windham continued. "A father of daughters must be willing, at some point, to let them go." He sighed, leaning back a little as his gaze softened. What was he seeing, Benedict wondered? What memories were playing themselves out before him?

"I rely on my eldest to know when that time has come," he admitted after a moment. "Though I do pride myself in the knowledge that I shall, at least, have to give some permission in the matter."

As Lord Windham eyed Benedict, the duke smiled graciously. It should have been far more nerve-wracking to be sitting here, speaking in no uncertain terms about marriage with his future father-in-law. And yet, Benedict was as calm as ever.

"Your eldest seems to be quite protective of her sister," Benedict mused after a moment.

At that, Lord Windham chuckled. "Indeed. She, perhaps, will need to give her own permission when her sister seeks to be married," he advised, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

Benedict held back a laugh at that. If only Lord Windham knew just how well aware he was of that fact. Or, of how hard the duke was working to do just such a thing.

"Well, whoever seeks Lady Selina's hand certainly has his work cut out for him, does he not?" he asked, lifting his glass.

Lord Windham grinned. "I will toast to that."