Page 42 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

“Not even.” Feeling a little foolish on his knees, Benjamin rose. “So that’s settled then.” His son shrugged and turned toward the door. “You shouldn’t have taken that key from my room,” Benjamin added.

Geoffrey’s hand went to his shirtfront and clutched at something beneath the cloth. Did he have the key on a string around his neck? “It’s mine!”

Benjamin glanced into the still-open cupboard. He could just see a mass of white crumpled at the back. From a spray of lace along the edge, he thought he recognized one of Alice’s nightgowns. With a pang of muddled emotion, he let the subject drop.

Twenty minutes later, Geoffrey stood before Miss Saunders and apologized. Not exactly sullenly, Benjamin judged—more like a workman ticking off an irksome task.

“I’m sorry I took your kitten,” he said. “I won’t do it again.”

Miss Saunders nodded and smiled at the boy.

“I’m sorry I shut him up in the basket, too.”

The tone of this second part was different. Insinuating? But that was ridiculous, Benjamin thought. Still, some odd emotion seemed to travel between the other two, palpable but mysterious. Unless he was imagining it; surely he was.

“That’s good,” said Miss Saunders, no longer smiling.

Geoffrey looked at Benjamin, waited for a nod to signal that his duties were complete, and left the library.

The room was very quiet in his wake.

Benjamin wouldn’t have minded a compliment. He wanted to feel he’d done well, fulfilled some of his responsibilities as a father. On the other hand, he wasn’t certain the apology had gone well. For some reason. “I don’t recall things being so complicated when I was a child,” he said. “None of this trouble.”

“You were thechild,” replied Miss Saunders.

He shook his head. “My mother was just better at it,” he said, trying not to sound aggrieved. “Everyone knows women are more suited to caring for children.”

“Everyone?” Her voice vibrated with some new outrage. “Doeseveryone?”

“It is a generally accepted—”

“So you’ve never encountered a bad mother? Not that you would have noticed, since women are simply designed by nature to care for their children. Aseveryoneknows. And so, whatever they do must be right.”

He took offense at her contemptuous tone. “I didn’t say that.”

“No, you repeated platitudes. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How the deuce have I offended you this time?”

“Women can be as cruel as men,” she replied bewilderingly. “More so!” Her dark eyes burned into him, as if to etch her point onto his brain. Then she walked out.

“Damn it all!” exclaimed Benjamin. He kicked at an ottoman. “What the devil was that about? What the hell is wrong with the woman?”

His gaze caught on the portrait of Alice above the fireplace. “Younever spoke to me that way.Youthought my ideas very astute, as I recall. Yes, and admirable, too.”

And now, instead of Alice, he had a female who exploded like a defective cannon at the least excuse—indeed with no excuse whatsoever, as far as he could see. Who complained and argued. Who…set him afire when she kissed him.

Benjamin stood very still in the middle of the library. Why had he thoughtinstead of Alice? He wasn’t going to put Miss Saunders in his wife’s place. Certainly not. He’d never know what to expect from one day to the next. Which was not—emphaticallynot—a curiously attractive notion.

Nine

The following day, Jean was surprised to hear the clatter of a carriage coming up the drive of Furness Hall. No one else had visited since she arrived, and curiosity drew her downstairs to see who this might be. She found her host and his uncle already at the front door, outside in the sunny afternoon. The arrival must be an oddity indeed to have brought them there. “Were you expecting someone?” she asked.

“No,” replied Lord Furness. “It’s a post chaise,” he added. “Not one of the neighbors.” The carriage pulled up, and a lady stepped out. “Now I am experiencing déjà vu,” he went on. “Chaise, unknown female, trunks. Is this your doing, Uncle? Not your friend from the village, I hope?”

“No, of course not. Looks nothing like her. And why would she be in a chaise?”

Jean rushed past them onto the drive. “Sarah?”

---