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Darcy’s worried face blurred.

“Would you drive me home, please?”

A tight nod. He took Bennet’s phone back. “May I?”

Bennet nodded and Darcy plugged in a message over the forum. “Someone will give us an update where he is. If he’s safe.”

“Yeah. Yes.” Bennet nodded.

Darcy helped gather Bennet’s things and settled him into his car. They drove in silence. Bennet was thankful for it, too worked up to focus on anything but Lyon. He rested his head against the glass and chastised himself for giving him too much freedom. For not listening to those prickly senses that had warned him about Will.

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said. “This is shocking.”

“It’s my fault,” Bennet’s stomach knotted. “I saw Will outside your property.”

“Outside my property?”

“A little down the road, heading that way. We traded lines. He wasn’t happy I was spending time with you, said I shouldn’t get too attached. It felt like there was a threat implied. I didn’t take it seriously enough.”

Darcy swore under his breath.

At least the Cubworthy forum pulled through. Someone had seen Lyon returning home. Bennet shuddered in partial relief, and Darcy drove directly into the village.

As soon as they stepped out of the car, they were accosted by Caroline darting out from the tourist information center directly below his home. As if she’d been waiting.

She seemed surprised Darcy had driven him, but quickly schooled it, crushing her features into concern.

“Oh, dear, Bennet, you don’t look good at all,” she said. He ducked into the backseat for his things.

She continued, voice lowered to a stage whisper, presumably to Darcy. “I’ve never seen anyone look so drained. Like a glimpse down the road once beauty fades.”

Darcy spoke coolly. “He looks fine to me.”

“Can’t you see it in the taut lines of his face? He looks drawn, pale. No life, no spark. That boundless joyful energy you once admitted being drawn to? Nothing there at all.”

“Thank you, Caroline, that’s enough. Bennet is upset, and we’d like privacy.”

Bag in hand, Bennet emerged from the backseat and shut the door.

“Of course,” Caroline smiled sweetly. “I was simply sympathizing. Obviously something’s wrong. If you need anything . . .”

“We’ll be fine, thank you.” She backed away. Darcy, tightening an arm around Bennet, called back. “For the record, I’m drawn to more than his joyful energy.”

It was the wrong moment to be awash with butterflies, but nevertheless.

He acknowledged and then ignored them.

Halfway to his door, he noticed Will sitting smugly on the bench outside the inn, like he too had been waiting for Bennet to return home.

Anger surged through him and he altered course, striding across the street.

“My brother is sixteen! How dare you force yourself on him, you slimy monster.” Bennet fisted Will’s T-shirt, forcing him to his feet. “Get out of this village, get out of our lives.”

“I was not the one to force myself on anyone. Ask your brother what really happened. He threw himself at me.” Will shoved him off, the force of it making him stumble.

Darcy caught and steadied him, and his voice darkened. “Not without encouragement, I’m sure.”

Will shrugged. “If he read into things, that’s not my issue.”

Hands tightened around Bennet’s hips before abruptly letting go. “You son of a—” Darcy shoved himself into Will’s face, speaking softly. “This is to get my attention. It’s why you’ve been hanging around my place, waiting, watching . . .” Darcy’s voice dripped disgust. “This is punishment for never loving you back.”

Will’s expression hardened, then softened with a sigh. “How many times do I have to say it, Darcy. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” A small, cold smile tipped his lips, and Bennet shivered. “It wasn’t punishment for you. It was for him, trying to steal you away.” Will leaned closer to Darcy, cupping his cheek, unbothered when Darcy shoved him off and stepped back. “You’re too afraid to come out, but if you did, we have history. Our story will be the kind that spans decades. Epic.”

Bennet’s stomach roiled.

Will hadn’t been in love with Denny. All along, he’d been harboring twisted feelings for Darcy. He’d spread rumors about Darcy to ensure that anyone interested in him would back off. And the sob story had worked. Maybe he had been at the Wool Ball. Maybe he hadn’t wanted Bennet—or anyone else—to know he was there. Watching.

“What was your plan?” Bennet said, laughing with disbelief. “Set the village against him and swoop in when he was vulnerable and lonely?”

Something dark flickered over Will’s face, and Bennet knew he’d hit the mark.

Bennet stepped in front of Darcy, shielding him.

Will’s jaw ticked.

“How fickle you are. First, all you want is me. Then it’s Darcy. Who will you be after next?”

“I don’t think you should be judging anyone’s character,” Darcy snapped.

“It’s simply an observation.” His smirk curled as he settled glittering eyes on Darcy. “He jumped into bed with me easily enough.”

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