“Is it—a game, I mean?”

“Not you, too?” Impatient, she walked away from him toward the terrace doors. “I’ve done this round with Alexander already.”

“It’s not a matter of pushing my exalted nose in.” Equally impatient, he followed her. Though they were close to an argument, they kept their voices low. Servants were notorious for their excellent hearing. “It’s only natural for me to be concerned.”

“Would you be so concerned if the engagement were genuine?” Her voice was cool, too cool. That alone gave Bennett the answer to his question. But it didn’t tell him whether he should be relieved or disturbed.

“I feel responsible,” he said after a moment. “After all, it was more or less my idea, and—”

“Yours?” This time she set her clipboard down on a table with a snap.

Bennett fumbled a bit, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut and his eyes open. If there was one thing he avoided, it was an argument with a woman. He was bound to lose. “Well, I did point out to Father that it would look a little odd for Reeve to be escorting you everywhere, living here, and … Hell.” Frustrated by her calm, icy look, he dragged a hand through his hair. “There had been all kinds of talk. Commérage.”

“What do I care for gossip?”

“You’ve never had to deal with that kind before.” His voice wasn’t bitter, but resigned. “Look, Brie, I might be the youngest of the three of us, but I’m the one with the most experience with the tacky little tabloids.”

“Justifiably, it would seem.”

He, too, could become very dignified. “Yes, quite justifiably. But while I’ve chosen to live my life a certain way, you haven’t. I couldn’t stand seeing your name and picture splashed all over, sneered over. You can be angry if you like. I’d rather have you angry than hurt ever again.”

She could have been furious with him. Brie understood it was her right to be. She could have told him, stiffly and finally, to stay out of her affairs. That by interfering, he’d made her more vulnerable than any scandal would. The ring on her hand was a prop—a support. One day she’d look down and it would be gone. It would be over.

She could have been angry, but love poured through her, warm and sweet. He was so young, and so inherently kind. “Damn you, Bennett.” But her arms went around him. “I should be furious with you.”

He rested his cheek against her temple. “I couldn’t know you’d fall in love with him.”

She could deny it and save some pride. Instead she shook her head and sighed. “No, neither could I.”

Just as Brie drew back, she saw a footman escort two women into the room. She’d left instructions that Christina Hamilton and her sister were to be brought to her as soon as they arrived.

From the photos and newspaper clippings she’d been given, Brie recognized the tall, striking brunette in the St. Laurent suit. She felt nothing but a moment’s blank panic.