Page 84 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

“Don’t tell me. It’s bound to be something idiotic.”

Jean gazed at him. He wasn’t laughing at her. And he looked quite unembarrassed.

“It’s perfectly natural that a fiery spirit requires regular fuel,” he went on. “How else could it burn so bright?”

Sudden tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back and swallowed. “Is that cheddar?”

He laughed. “It is indeed.”

Heart full, but stomach empty, Jean reached for a slice.

Benjamin held up a hand. “Allow me.”

Rapidly, he sliced bread, added ham and the cheese. There was butter, too, Jean saw. He offered her the resulting hearty sandwich with a flourish and gestured for her to go ahead as he repeated the process for himself. She bit into what seemed like the best meal she’d ever eaten.

They munched in silence for a while. When the sandwiches were gone and glasses of cider consumed, Benjamin picked up a strawberry and held it out as if he meant her to eat from his fingers. Like a baby, Jean thought, or a little girl who could never be sure whether her mother would give her the treat or pull it away with a trill of mocking laughter. She reached out and took the berry from him. “I prefer to feed myself.”

“As you wish.”

“I don’t mean to seem—”

“You seem yourself, which is exactly as it should be.” He popped a strawberry into his mouth. “Marriage could be, would be, like this,” he added before she could reply. “Pulling in tandem. Deciding on the course of our lives together.”

He didn’t run roughshod over her as all men yearned to do, according to her mother. But she hadn’t vowed at the altar to obey him either. Even though she didn’t want to, Jean could clearly hear her mother spitting out the wordhusband, explaining how they treated you like the dirt under their feet once you were shackled to them. Of course her mother had been wrong about nearly everything. Yet…to surrender her freedom… How could she do it? “Was your marriage like that? With Alice?”

Benjamin hesitated. Jean wondered if he would lie. But he shook his head. “No. But I’m a different man now.”

It was true. She’d seen him change before her eyes. She wanted to agree. But she couldn’t, quite. “I’ll think about it.”

Benjamin exulted silently. This was more than he’d gotten from her before. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and cover her with kisses. Which would not be wise. He’d seen her pull away before she answered. “I’ll go and tell the applicants our decision,” he said instead.

“Tell them you’ll write and let them know,” Jean replied.

“Are we not decided?”

“Yes, but they have to ride all the way back to Bristol together.”

“Ah. You’re wonderfully acute.”

“You would have thought of it.”

“Perhaps. Probably after we saw them off. You’ve spared me that regret. Thank you.”

She flushed. He liked it when she did that.

Her brain felt overstuffed, Jean thought when he’d gone—as if a great crowd of ideas was jostling to push through a narrow passage. She retreated to her room, where Tab immediately pounced on her toes. She picked up the cat and carried him to a chair. But Tab had no interest in lap sitting at the moment. He squirmed from her grasp and jumped down. “Very well,” said Jean. She found his ball of yarn and dangled the end before him. He snatched it with every appearance of delight.

“My mother hated cats, you know, Tab.”

The cat leaped, captured the ball of yarn with his front claws, and then curled around it, back feet pumping to disembowel his woolen prey.

“If a dog fawned over her, she enjoyed it. As long as it didn’t paw at her.”

Rolling on the floor, Tab bit at the yarn.

“Neighbor dogs,” Jean added. “She wouldn’t have one in the house. ‘Too dirty and smelly,’ she said. I expect you’d agree.”

He released the ball, struck it, then batted it across the floor. It unrolled, leaving a trail of yarn in its wake.

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