He smiled, so that the look vanished. “How can I be otherwise with a dozen guards smothering me?”

“Very careful,” she repeated. “I’ve never known you to carry a pistol to the theater.”

She knew it was a lie. He didn’t have to hear her say it, only to look in her eyes. She knew, but didn’t understand. And because she was Gabriella, she wouldn’t stop until she did.

“Leave it for now.”

“So Reeve told me,” she said with an impatient gesture. “It’s my family. How can I?”

“I only know it’s going to be over soon. In the meantime we have to stand together. Something’s being done, Brie. Hold on to that.”

“I have been.” She knew it was unfair to push, so released him. “I want you to promise you won’t do anything rash.”

“What is this reputation I carry with me?”

“Ben, please.”

“All right, you have it.” He kissed her again. “I adore you, even if you did bring Dorian into the world to pester me.” He gave her hand a final pat before he started down the stairs. “A bientôt.”

She watched him go, but the worry stayed with her. “A bientôt.”

Hannah wasn’t in her rooms. Bennett found himself frustrated yet again when he entered and found them empty. Had she gone out again? he wondered. Was she even now putting herself in danger to protect his family?

He hated it. The thought of her risking her life, of blocking his body with her own as she had done last night was impossible to accept. Whether it was family, friend or country, he protected. How could he do less for the woman he loved?

Wandering in her rooms, he moved to her dresser. There was a small enameled box with a peacock on the lid. He ran a finger over it, wondering where she had come by it. A gift? From whom? A purchase in some little shop in London? He needed to know even those inconsequential details about her. Couldn’t she understand that in order to resolve his feelings he had to know the woman he’d given them to?

He looked up, and reflected in the mirror was the bed where they’d fought, and loved, the night before. If he stood very still, he could almost feel the echoes of passion and discovery in the air. Would she hate him for that? Even though the loving had been as intense and as stunning for her as for him, would she forgive him for forcing her to set the barriers aside?

He’d been rough. . . . Bennett looked down at his own hands, turning them over, spreading his fingers. And he hadn’t cared. All of his life he’d taken such pains never to hurt a woman. Now, when he’d found the only woman, he’d set out to do just so.