“The only brother I have now.” Bennet turned and gave him a surprisingly sweet smile.

Harry half grinned. “Aye.”

“Excepting Will, here.” Bennet nodded to the boy clinging to his back like a monkey.

Will’s eyes widened. “What?”

Harry scowled. He hadn’t wanted to tell Will, as he was afraid it would confuse the boy’s already complicated life, but it appeared that Bennet wasn’t waiting to discuss the matter.

“It seems that my father might very well be yours as well,” Bennet said now to the child. “We have similar eyes, you know.”

“But mine are brown.” Will frowned.

“The shape, he means,” Harry said.

“Oh.” Will thought about that for a bit, then peeked at him. “What about Harry? Am I his brother, too?”

“We don’t know,” Harry said quietly. “But since we don’t, we might as well say we are. If you don’t mind. Do you?”

Will vigorously shook his head.

“Good,” Bennet said. “Now that’s settled, I’m sure Will is as concerned as I am about your impending nuptials.”

“What?” Harry lost the smile that had begun to form on his lips.

“The thing is, Lady Georgina is the Earl of Maitland’s sister.” Bennet pursed his lips. “And if she decides to dig in her heels . . . might be a problem, the two of us going up against an earl.”

“Huh,” Harry said. It hadn’t occurred to him before that he might have to go through his lady’s brothers in order to speak to her. But if she was well and truly mad at him . . . “Damn.”

“Exactly.” Bennet nodded. “It’d help if we could send word ahead to someone in London when we reach the next town. Have them reconnoiter, so to speak. Especially if it takes a while to get you a fresh horse.” Bennet looked at the mare, who was definitely lagging.

“Aye.”

“Not to mention, it would be nice to have someone at our back when we confront Maitland,” Bennet continued. “I know a couple of blokes in London, of course. Might be up for it, if we can convince them it’s a sort of lark.” His brow furrowed. “They aren’t usually sober, but if I impress upon them the seriousness—”

“I have some friends,” Harry said.

“Who?”

“Edward de Raaf and Simon Iddesleigh.”

“The Earl of Swartingham?” Bennet’s eyes widened. “And Iddesleigh’s titled, too, isn’t he?”

“He’s Viscount Iddesleigh.”

“How the hell do you know them?”

“Met through the Agrarian Society.”

“The Agrarians?” Bennet wrinkled his nose as if at a bad smell. “Don’t they debate turnips?”

Harry’s mouth quirked. “It’s for gentlemen interested in agriculture, yes.”

“I suppose it takes all kinds.” Bennet still looked dubious. “Christ, Harry, I had no idea. If you have friends like that, why the hell are you playing around with me and Will?”

“You two are my brothers, aren’t you?”

“Aye!” Will shouted.