"Kendal, my boy, I didn't know you had come!" Dorset's voice was a little too loud, and Ben could tell he had been imbibing of his brandy earlier than usual. He tried not to wince when Dorset's pudgy hand gripped his shoulder, pressing him back into the library. Ben looked at Dorset's red face, and then to Bee's back as she slowly made her way out of sight. He sighed resolutely; he could not chase after her right that moment, although he swore he would find a way to talk to her again. He would not let her marry Surrey, he swore to himself; he would not. "I have to give you credit m'boy," Dorset said from the far side of the library, "I didn't think you could do it." Ben looked up and noticed that Dorset had made a beeline for his desk and was pouring himself a brandy. He frowned and instead walked next to the fire, welcoming its warmth. It was too small for the size of the room, Ben realized; there should either have been a mate at the far side of the room to help heat the area adequately.
