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She stretched and sat back on her low seat. “And now you really must tell me how things went with the waistcoated gentleman.”

Benedict glanced at her. “I’ll tell you inside. It’s getting cold. I put the water on to heat while you were at your letter.”

Lizzie glanced at the bubbling pan in surprise. “Is it not a little early for bed?”

“No,” he replied. “No, it is not.”

“Oh, very well,” she said gathering up what was left of her paper and ink. “I suppose your fight would take it out of you.”

21

“Benedict,” Lizzie began tentatively as she brushed her hair before bed.

He slung his boot over his shoulder. “What?”

“If I was to run away, you would come after me, wouldn’t you?”

He gave a short laugh. “I’ll put it this way, you wouldn’t get far.”

Lizzie pursed her lips thoughtfully. “What if … ?” She cast a quick glance at him.

He stilled in the act of unbuttoning his shirt. “What?”

“Well, what if rumor said another man was involved.” At his narrowed eyes, she added quickly. “Of course, you would know there was nothing whatsoever in such idle gossip.”

He was quiet a moment, but it looked as though it caused him some effort. “Why would you be leaving me, then?” he asked gruffly, tugging his shirt out of his breeches.

“Say … I felt underappreciated or overworked?” Lizzie ventured thinking of everything she had heard about Frank’s wife.

Benedict moved so suddenly he was a mere blur. The next thing he knew, she was blinking up at him, still clutching her hairbrush as he held her about the waist. “Are you feeling that way, Lizzie?” he asked tightly.

“No! Of course not!”

His eyes raked over her. “You’d tell me?”

Lizzie spluttered. “You may be assured of that!” she retorted. “When do I ever spare you my opinion?”

A smile tugged at his lips a moment but was then gone. “What are you trying to tell me at this moment, then?”

“I’m not telling you anything,” she stressed. “I’m merely trying to gauge how you would feel if … ” she broke off. “Forget it, I was being foolish. And besides, you more than do your fair share about the place.”

He gazed down at her as though assessing the truth of her words. Whatever he saw in her face seemed to assure him. He gave a short nod and released her, shrugging off his shirt.

“I can tell you what I wouldn’t do,” he answered grimly. “I wouldn’t fall apart at the seams and hit the bottle like Frank seems to have.”

Yes, but Frank and Maggie were a love match, Lizzie thought with a pang. She and Benedict were decidedly not. She had no answer to the interrogative look he threw at her.

“Very well, then,” he continued after a moment. “In answer to your question, I would first fetch you back and then seek out the source of the gossip and cut it off at the root. Satisfied?”

Lizzie considered this as he unfastened his breeches. “What if the source were someone deeply connected to you?” she asked slowly, even as he started to shake his head. “By familial bonds of the strongest kind.”

“They couldn’t be more closely connected than a man to his wife,” he said simply.

Lizzie reeled a moment as she considered the fact that Benedict might think her the closest person to him in the world. He could not mean that, surely. Something of her thoughts must have shown in her expression, for he looked at her quizzically as he climbed in the bed. “This is news to you?” he asked. “Come here.”

Lizzie cleared her throat and set down her hairbrush. “Well, no, I just would have thought that people you were raised with might have a prior claim on your loyalties … ” she said, stepping to the bed and lifting the blanket. “After all, we do not know each other terribly well and – ”

His fingers closed about on a fistful of her nightgown, tugging her down on top of him. “We know each other inside out,” he growled as their bodies came into contact with each other. “I’m the only man who’s ever known you, Lizzie, or ever will.”