Page 46 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

And her mother’s shrill voice went off like a claxon in her mind—feeling, as it had always been, an inch from her ear. “Lose your virtue, lose everything. Do you hear me!” As if Jean could have helped hearing. “One slip, and you’re stuck alone in the middle of nowhere with theresults.” Her mother had spit that final word with such venom. For as long as she could remember, Jean had known it meant her. She was the perpetrator of disaster, the rightful target of reproach. And after that came the stifling darkness. Jean jerked away from that old mental lash.

Benjamin released her at once. What the hell was he doing, seducing a young lady, a guest under his roof, on the library sofa? The door wasn’t even locked. Which was irrelevant because he was going to stop right now. Breathless and aching, he drew back. Miss Saunders looked as if she might cry, which filled him with remorse. Then her expression hardened into…anger? “I’m sorry,” he said to cover both.

“It isn’tyourfault,” she replied.

Her emphasis confused him. Did she mean it was hers? There was no one else here. She did sound angry. He considered taking her hand, but when she looked up, he understood she wasfurious.

“No,” she said.

“I stepped over the line,” Benjamin replied. “It won’t happen again.”

She put her hands over her ears. “Stop!”

This was a bit much, particularly when his body was trying to take the reins from his slightly befuddled mind. She’d kissedhim, after all. “I have,” he said. “I did.”

Miss Saunders retrieved her shawl and stood up, so Benjamin did, too. He wished he hadn’t had the brandy. She pulled the wrap on and held it close around her neck. Her dark hair foamed about her shoulders. “I must go,” she said.

“You’re not going to walk out of here without telling me what’s wrong.”

“It’s obvious. I behaved too freely. I came down to correct a wrong impression, and now I have given you another. I hope you will forget it.”

There was something wrong with her tone. She spoke like a student repeating a rote lesson. “It’s more than that,” he said.

“I don’t owe you explanations.”

“I think you do, after what has passed between us.”

He’d put some righteous indignation into his voice and managed to surprise her, which brought life back into her eyes. She seemed truly aware of him again. She hesitated, then said, “Iwon’tbe ruled by the past.”

Feeling out of his depth, Benjamin settled for “That seems sensible.”

“How would you know?” she snapped back. “You’ve been wallowing in your grief for years.”

“I beg your pardon?” The words came out cold, but Benjamin couldn’t care. Did shewantto offend him?

Oddly, Miss Saunders nodded. He had no idea what the gesture signified. “This has nothing to do with you,” she said. “Now and then, the past rears up and tries to…squash me. And I refuse.” She looked grim.

“Nothing to do with me.” That phrase had outweighed the others for him. “You were in my arms. Happily, as I judged. Do you say I was mistaken?”

“No,” she answered quietly.

“Whatever I did wrong—”

“Not you.”

“There’s no one else present, Miss…Jean. Just you and me.” Benjamin was suddenly conscious of Alice’s portrait above them. But shewasn’there. She was gone forever.

“If only that were true.” She had to go. Her mother’s remembered voice was still shrieking in her mind. Once those memories rose, they had to be fought down. She knew how to do that—all the necessary steps. First, banish the crushing disappointment that they hadn’t gone for good.

Before Lord Furness could speak again, Jean hurried from the library. She almost ran to her room, locking the door behind her. She added fuel to the coals of the fire and sat before it, hands folded, staring into the flames.

After her mother’s death, Jean had vowed to live the life she wanted, free of all sorts of prisons. Even the one her mother had tried to leave lurking inside her. And she’d managed to do just that. The struggle grew easier with time. Tonight though, the past had roared back with a vengeance. Literally vengeance, Jean thought. Her mother always wanted to see someone pay.

Why tonight?

She’d never let herself go so far before, Jean thought. She’d never opened herself to pleasure, embraced desire. She’d never encountered a man like Benjamin, or felt that heady combination of tenderness and passion. It was as if her mother had set a trap, and Jean had sprung it.

She pushed back her hair, which fell around her shoulders and curled over her cheeks. Her father’s hair, as had been continually pointed out to her through her childhood. Profligate, stubborn, uncaring hair. Jean had been blamed for things she couldn’t help before she understood what the words meant.

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