“I was so concerned that the absence of a chaperone would cause spiteful gossip,” said his uncle. “Perhaps I acted too hastily.”

“No one in the village knows who I am,” said Mrs. Thorpe. “Your neighbor won’t easily find out. Though I’m happy to go, naturally, if you like.”

Which would only rouse more questions, Benjamin thought, and bring back their original problem. “We’ll leave things as they are.” He didn’t wish to discuss the flaws in his uncle’s plan. He hadn’t examined it very closely, after all. He, too, had been distracted. By a love that apparently could hurt as well as delight.

Seventeen

In her bedchamber, Jean waited with vast impatience for the house to go quiet. She wanted,needed, to be alone with Benjamin, and there had been no opportunity after Mrs. Thorpe’s secret came out. Peoplewouldkeep on talking, quite uselessly, not going away and leaving them to each other. It might have driven Jean distracted if she hadn’t had her own methods in mind. Which were much better anyway, she thought. They would have all the time, and privacy she desired.

After what seemed an eternity, Jean opened her door, listened to silence, and slipped into the corridor. She reached Benjamin’s room without incident, knocked, and went in without waiting for a reply.

He stood beside the bed, still dressed in shirt and breeches, about to put on his nightshirt. For a long moment, they simply looked at each other.

“I’m sorry,” said Jean. “I didn’t say that earlier. I should have.”

Benjamin gazed at her. In the flickering candlelight, he looked more than ever like the stained-glass Galahad she’d thought of when she first saw him. His—still unshorn—hair contributed to the impression, she realized. “We’ve told each other secrets,” he said.

“We have.” She’d revealed things to him that no one else on Earth knew about her.

“We’ve shared opinions freely.”

“Extremely freely, at times.”

This won her a tiny smile. “So I was…startled to find that you’d kept a rather significant fact from me.”

Jean didn’t say again that she’d simply forgotten. She didn’t even argue that the discovery of love had thrust Mrs. Thorpe right out of her mind. Though quite true, these were not the point. “I don’t blame you,” she replied. “I’d feel the same—or worse, probably—if our positions were reversed. I made a mistake. I’ll do my best never to repeat it.” She put all her tender feelings for him into the words.

Benjamin’s expression shifted. “In the future,” he said.

“The future, yes.” She drew out that last word.

He blinked, dark lashes obscuring, then revealing those wonderful blue-gray eyes. What Jean saw in them made her heart pound. He took a visible breath. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“You don’t sound positive.”

“Because I’m so very glad you are. Though I shouldn’t be.”

“I’m very tired ofshouldn’t.”

“Mustn’t,” he said.

“Can’t,” she countered.

“Won’t,” he replied with a wry smile. “I’m particularly tired ofwon’t.”

“Ah, but I came to tell you something else as well.”

“What?”

Now that the moment was upon her, Jean felt shy. Or worse, she felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a cliff and didn’t know whether a hand would reach out to catch her. But she was also determined to move forward into that future they’d mentioned, one way or another. She gathered her courage. “I love you,” she said.

He stood still just long enough for her to worry. Then he surged forward and swept her into his arms. “I love you,” he said. “Desperately.”

The only answer to that was kisses. A flurry, a submergence of kisses.

And then there were garments to shed and bed linens to throw back. They practically leapt into the great bed together, where they indulged in more kisses and caresses and murmured endearments that fired desire. And thus they led each other, step by step, from longing to aching need to a crescendo of release. “My love,” exclaimed Benjamin as he held her.

“My love,” she agreed breathlessly.