Page 47 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

Her hands tightened. “Lies,” she whispered. Finally, painfully, after long struggles, she’d understood that her mother lied. That the shrieking and the darkness weren’t her fault. She’d vowed that the past wouldn’t rule her future. And so it hadn’t, and wouldn’t. Tonight wasnota setback, simply another step.

At a touch on her leg, she jumped. But it was only Tab, pawing at the end of her shawl, wondering why she was awake in the middle of the night. Jean picked up the kitten and put him on her lap. His soft purr began, remarkably soothing.Her cat, Jean thought fiercely. She was allowed comfort now. She would take it. Along with any other pleasures she might desire. She wouldn’t be oppressed again! But other parts of her were only too aware that it wasn’t that easy.

Ten

When Benjamin at last fell asleep that night, very late, he dreamed about Alice. She stood beside him, looking just as she did in her portrait—more perfect than life, red-gold hair gleaming, blue eyes gazing out at nothing. He held her hand, but she didn’t seem to notice. He knew it was no good speaking to her. She wouldn’t answer. He tried anyway, and was proved right.

Then, with a dream’s sudden shift, he saw a mail coach bearing down on them—sixteen pounding hooves, a shouting, gesticulating driver. The big vehicle was going so fast that it careened from side to side. There was no chance it could stop before running them down. They had to move, to dive out of the way. But Alice was immovable. He tried to pull her, lift her, but her slender form might have been made of stone. She was rooted to the road. Benjamin pushed with all his strength, shouted in her ear. No response. The coach came closer and closer, until he could feel the thunder of its passage in his bones. He could escape if he abandoned her where she stood, but of course there was no question of that. And then the vehicle hit them with an apocalyptic slam.

Benjamin jerked awake. His pulse was pounding, his head thick. He panted, and the roar of the dream lingered in his ears. He put his hands over them. “Could I do no better than that?” he said aloud. The significance of the scene was ridiculously obvious. He had to leave the past behind or risk disaster. “Oversimplified,” he told whatever part of him composed dreams.

He threw back the coverlet and rose, going to the window that overlooked the gardens and parting the draperies. The sun was just rising. Shafts of golden light made dewdrops sparkle; trees threw long fingers of shadow. This place was beautiful. His family and people who depended on them had made it so over centuries, Benjamin thought. The house, the land felt like part of him, or vice versa. He loved it.

Did Geoffrey feel anything like this? Sadness descended on Benjamin. This place was meant to be a home, with a family, and he’d been living here alone. He’d insisted upon it. He’d even, now and then, gloried in it. Worse, he’d forced isolation on his son. He didn’t need to be hit by a mail coach to see his mistake.

His bare feet grew cold. Still in his nightshirt, Benjamin made up the fire. Following his standing orders, no one would enter his room until he left it. He dressed and headed for the stables. He knew from too much experience that a hard ride could alter a morose mood.

As he galloped along a lane between blooming hedges, Benjamin realized that he hadn’t given any thought to scandal. Had anyone walked into the library last night—his uncle, a servant—there would have been an uproar. Many young ladies, most he supposed, would be expecting a proposal today. He was fairly certain Miss Saunders wasn’t. Indeed, he doubted she wanted one. Not because she was scandalous, but because she was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Her concerns seemed more mysterious and darker than gossip. A man would have to fathom them before he offered for her.

Not that he was actually considering an offer. He was merely…considering. She was such a heady mixture of independence and allure. Recalling various incidents of her visit lifted his spirits and made him smile. She’d taken a tomahawk in stride—cliffs, a kidnapped kitten. Between one bout of kissing and the next, she’d wakened him. And now? What lay behind her behavior last night? He needed to know.

Back at Furness Hall, Benjamin found his uncle at the breakfast table, which seemed to have become a central exchange for information since his unexpected guests arrived. Benjamin wished him good morning, poured coffee, and sat where he could observe the entry. “Tell me all you know about Miss Saunders’s family,” he said then.

The older man raised an inquiring brow.

“From a remark she made, I believe there’s something odd about it.”

“And if there is, it’s our affair because?”

“Because I’ve grown interested in her.”

“Interested? As ininterested?”

“More and more as time goes by.”

Meeting his nephew’s eyes, Arthur rose from the table. “Shall we take a turn in the garden, where we won’t be overheard?”

“Is your information that ominous?” Benjamin frowned at him.

“It is private,” Arthur replied.

Looking uneasy, his nephew followed him outside.

They walked along a path bordered by nodding daffodils. “I have made some inquiries,” said Arthur then. “I understand that Miss Saunders’s father was forced into the marriage. The young daughter of a country neighbor found herself with child, and he was undoubtedly the culprit.” He had heard the girl in question called a dreadful creature, but Arthur took that with a grain of salt, considering the source. “Mr. Saunders was not pleased. Having ample resources, and control of them at a young age, he moved to London soon after the wedding, and he remained there until his death several years ago. From overindulgence, if gossip was correct.”

“He abandoned his family?”

Arthur nodded. “Essentially. He provided an allowance.” His female source had called this incomesufficient. Arthur translated this as miserly.

“He lived a solitary life?”

“Hardly that. He kept a string of mistresses.”

“So he scarcely knew his own daughter?” Benjamin sounded thoughtful.

“I’d say he didn’t know her at all.”

“But what about his property, his responsibilities?”

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