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and pleasantries of the Season?”
    “I’m certain many arranged marriages result in as happy a
circumstance as the ones built on momentary passion.”
    “But what if the passion isn’t momentary? What if it’s a
spark of love lighting the flame they feel for one another? Or do you not
believe in love?”
    As they had reached the far end of the promenade, Ben
steered the horse through a gate and away from the park. “The only love I know
is built over time. That’s how it is able to last a lifetime. There certainly
isn’t enough time in a Season to fall in love.”
    * * * * *
    Viscount Ringley took another swallow of his brandy while
studying the cards in his hand. “Remind me why we’re playing poker in your
rooms rather than getting in on the real stakes at Boodle’s?”
    Ben set two cards facedown on the table. “Because I still
hold your vowels from last week’s gaming at White’s. Now, deal.”
    “Ah, yes. And you have my eternal gratitude, you know. I’ll
speak to my father about an advance on next quarter’s funds.”
    “You’ll do no such thing. I know you’re good for the money.
But I do think you should avoid either drinking or the tables.”
    “You sound like my father. Perhaps you are ready to
take a wife.”
    Ben raised a brow. “You had doubts?”
    “You had doubts as well. Admit it. You probably still do. This
is a rash decision to make on sudden notice. Sir Waldo hasn’t been gone a year,
and you have done a complete turnabout from your attitude when he insisted you
marry. You are in a mad dash to take a wife. Yet a month ago you argued when I
suggested it was what you wanted.”
    “I blamed the sullenness on the stress of taking over
Grandfather’s company. I’ve never missed a woman when she was out of my
presence, so I didn’t realize what that felt like.”
    Ringley shook his head. “Don’t let your demimonde hear you
say so.”
    “I cut her free long before Grandfather’s summons, and you
know it.”
    “That alone could drive a man to think mad thoughts. I still
say you should set yourself up with another demimonde until the feeling passes.
Buy a nice cottage outside Greater Yarmouth and place her there. It would be
quite convenient.”
    “And quite unacceptable. I know what I want. I want a
companion, a helpmeet. Someone who will ask how my day has been when I return
home.”
    Grinning, Ringley replied, “I’m certain Smithers would be
more than happy to ask it when he takes your hat and coat at the door.”
    Ben chuckled. “For that matter, I could have a dog wagging
his tail and barking when I come home. But it wouldn’t be the same. Miss Seton
discussed any problems I had and offered intelligent responses. I could see her
concern in her manner, in her eyes. It warmed me to have someone who cared
there, to speak with.”
    He rose and crossed to the liquor cabinet. Grabbing the
brandy decanter, he returned to the table and topped off both their glasses.
“I’d thought a mistress would be enough to see me through the next six or seven
years at least. I could find a bride then, when I needed to produce an heir.”
    He stuck the crystal stopper back in the bottle. “But I want
more. I want the entire meal with all the courses, all the removes. I want Miss
Seton.”

Chapter Three
     
    Ben found exactly what he’d hoped for when he entered his
aunt’s library. Miss Seton sat alone, curled in the window seat with a book in
her hands. He cleared his throat, then smiled when she jumped.
    “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said with a small laugh
as her cheeks turned pink.
    “I didn’t want to disturb you. That must be a very good
book.”
    “It is. Narrative Poems on the Female Character . I
found it on the shelves.”
    He crossed the room, holding up the novel in his hand. “I
found the romance you suggested to me, Radcliffe’s The Italian. I shall
begin reading it this very night .” Laying the book on a small table, he
continued, “There is a matter I