The air outside in the garden is warmer than it has been recently, for which Benedict is thankful. He puffs out a laugh as he pulls some cigarettes from his pocket.

"I want for nothing only because I happened to be born to a viscount and through no feasible effort of my own," he says. He detects that touch of resentment. He can't entirely blame Silver. Benedict is alarmingly aware of his charmed life - even among society, the Bridgertons seem to be a notch about the rest. Making an acquaintance with Silver has really shown him just how fortunate he truly is. "But you flatter me about the singing."

He slips a cigarette between his lips and offers one to Silver.