Page 39 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

Lord Furness spoke self-consciously. “There was nothing wrong with that. From Geoffrey’s point of view.”

“Nor from mine,” said Jean.

Their eyes met. The look was nearly as intimate as the kiss.

“And what of yours, Benjamin?” said Lord Macklin.

Their host blinked, turned to the older man. “My…?”

“Your point of view. We’ve heard about Geoffrey’s. And Miss Saunders’s. What about yours?”

For a moment, Jean thought he knew about the kiss. Then she saw he was only teasing, from the hints he’d picked up.

“I agree with Miss Saunders,” said Lord Furness, gazing at her again.

“You share her opinion that there was nothing wrong with…it?” his uncle replied. He appeared to be enjoying himself.

“Wholeheartedly.”

“And shoulditrecur?”

Lord Furness’s eyes, which remained fixed on Jean, glinted with amusement and something more. “I shall live in hope,” he said.

Jean couldn’t stop the flush that warmed her cheeks, or the thrill that went with it. She could, however, change the subject. “Have you seen any more of your friend, Lord Macklin?”

“My friend?”

“The one you were surprised to meet in the village. Who’s such a creature of London.”

“Ah.” The older man accepted her diversion with a smile. “I have, in fact. She’s settled here for some weeks. For a rest.”

“From the rigors of society?” Jean asked. “The season hasn’t even started.”

Lord Macklin shook his head. “She has taxing…work.”

“What sort of work?” asked Jean, intrigued by this unusual piece of information. Ladies from London who were friends with an earl didn’t usually have employment.

“Who is this?” asked Lord Furness at the same moment.

“A friend I was surprised to see in Somerset, as Miss Saunders said.”

“I hope she doesn’t expect formal calls,” said their host, reverting to his earliest crusty manner. “Or entertainment.”

Something about the last word appeared to amuse his uncle very much. “She does not. She’s known for a charming lack of formality. And she’s here quite privately, on a repairing lease. She doesn’t want attention.”

“Surely we could exchange visits,” Jean said, even more interested in this mysterious figure.

“No,” said Lord Furness. “The neighborhood would take it as a signal that their society is welcome here and…erupt into a flurry of calls and invitations.”

“Like a volcano?” Jean found the image, and his uncharacteristic agitation, amusing.

His uncle calmed him with a gesture. “As I said, she’s here for a rest. She doesn’t want to see you either.”

Lord Furness blinked, nonplussed. Jean laughed.

Through the rest of dinner, she tried to discover more, but Lord Macklin was an old hand at evading questions he didn’t wish to answer. He revealed nothing significant.

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