Benedict watched you, as he always did, attentive to the little details that others seemed not to notice. If you mentioned a perfume, he bought it; if you read a book, he sought it out, eager to understand what enchanted your mind.

"Jasmine is the most delicate, in my opinion." His voice surprised you as you strolled through Aubrey Hall's garden. "Tough, but still soft."

A hesitant smile curved his lips.

"These are my favourite flowers," you murmured. "How do you know that?"

His heart fluttered for a moment. He even noticed that.

"Who doesn't love jasmine?" He added with a softness that made you wonder if he was talking about the flower or you.