Page 57 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

“Ah. We weren’t poor like Tom. We were”—she groped for a word—“careful.”

Geoffrey looked confused.

“We had to practice economies,” Miss Saunders added.

Her flat tone gave Benjamin the notion that most of these economies had involved her.

“What’s ‘econ-omies’?” Geoffrey asked. “Are they hard to practice? Lily says practice makes perfect.”

“It means deciding which things you can afford to have, and which you can’t.”

The boy thought about this. “You deciding? Or somebody else?”

“Somebody else,” Miss Saunders answered tonelessly.

Geoffrey nodded. Benjamin watched the two of them exchange a look of perfect understanding. A simple glance, conveying worlds.

Benjamin felt something twist in the region of his heart. Suddenly, in a moment of absolute clarity, he knew exactly what he should do.

The riding party reached Furness Hall a few minutes later. Geoffrey stayed with Fergus in the stable to help with the pony’s grooming, and young Tom joined him. The three adults walked up to the house together. Jean was eager to change out of her riding habit and to be alone for a bit. She couldn’t quite absorb the fact that she’d never felt so thoroughly understood as in the recent exchange she’d shared with a five-year-old boy.

Lord Furness said, “May I speak to you in the library, Miss Saunders?”

“In the library?” She stopped. “Why not right here?”

Instead of replying, he put a hand on her back. Warmth seemed to spread from that light touch through Jean’s entire body. It made her want to nestle into the curve of his arm. Lord Macklin walked on as if nothing was happening, and Jean let herself be guided into the book-lined room where the portrait of her cousin Alice presided. “Sit down,” Lord Furness said with a gesture.

Jean moved a few steps away from him. She didn’t care to be commanded. “No, thank you.”

“It’s not always necessary to argue, you know.”

But quite often it was, Jean thought. That or be trampled by other people’s whims. Not arguing had been the bane of her early life. “What is it?”

Lord Furness looked aggrieved. He came closer and reached for her hand. “I could do this much better if you would sit,” he said.

Jean’s pulse stuttered and began to race.

“But I see that you won’t. Very well. I shan’t kneel then. I shall simply ask you to be my wife.”

“Ask?” His tone suggested a fait accompli rather than a request. Jean felt as if the eyes in Alice’s portrait were drilling into her back.

“It’s the obvious answer. Since you…erupted into my life, I’ve come to see many things differently. I need a change. This household needs a change. And Geoffrey requires a mother.”

“He needs a parent. He has one in you.” Jean’s lips felt stiff, as if she’d been out in the cold for hours, though the weather was clement. She pulled her hand from his.

“You could be another. Isn’t that what you wanted? You came here to take him from me.”

“To his grandparents’ house.”

Lord Furness smiled skeptically. “My uncle tells me the Phillipsons were never going to take charge of a little boy. He said Geoffrey’s care would have fallen on you.”

Jean shifted uncomfortably. That plan had never been well thought out. She was glad to be able to abandon it.

“As my wife, you can make sure he’s cared for as you think best.” He said it as if presenting an irresistible inducement.

Jean felt as if a heavy weight had descended on her spirit. “I don’t intend to marry. Marriage is a wretched state.”

“That was not my experience.”

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