However, the gentleman's posture subtly inclined, thwarting her reach for the glass, which subsequently led her to a direct tumble into his embrace.

Claudia's chin collided directly with Bennett's exposed chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as pain coursed through her.

Bennett's countenance creased in concern, prompting him to set down his glass.

“Have you injured yourself?" he inquired.

Claudia Lifted her gaze and sensed a shadow descending, enveloping her in an instantly recognizable aura.

Her respiration abruptly quickened and became irregular. Confronted with the man's furrowed brow, a daring notion sprouted in her mind.

Yet, before she could act upon it, her heart raced so intensely that it seemed poised to burst from her chest at any moment.

Observing her silence, Bennett surmised her injury.

“Let me have a look," he proposed.

As he gently raised her chin, his lips inadvertently encountered something tender. Before he could react, the fleeting sensation dissipated.

The woman nestled in his embrace peered up at him, her countenance flushed, her beguiling eyes aglimmer.

“Please, don't be angry," she implored.

Bennett's gaze flickered toward his sleeve, which she had grasped. It melted his heart to the point where ire became an inconceivable emotion.

He knitted his brows and commented, "Mrs. Dreskin, you are remarkably resourceful."

Claudia discerned that Bennett typically referred to her as "Miss Marshall" when angered, but now, he had adopted "Mrs. Dreskin." It was evident that his temper had abated.

Comprehending his implication, she felt a tinge of embarrassment.

“Drinking is detrimental to your health," she offered.

Bennett sighed with a wry smile.

“How's your chin? Are you injured?" he inquired.

Claudia shook her head. "No," she assured him.

After all, if she had truly inflicted harm, he would be the one nursing the greater injury, wouldn't he?

She fluttered her eyelashes, scrutinized him, and ventured tentatively, “Have you forgiven me, then?" Was he still harboring resentment toward her, given her recent conduct? "What if I were to admit that I'm still perturbed? What would you do, Mrs. Dreskin?" he countered.

Claudia, finding herself unable to withstand his penetrating gaze, shifted her attention towards the crimson wine gracing the table and softly uttered, “Very well, I... I shall continue to appease you." What other course of action could she truly pursue?

Could she simply let it all slip away, unresolved?