Page 58 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

The picture of Alice loomed even larger in Jean’s mind. His great love; his lost ideal. Alice had taken everything. There was nothing left. “You were fortunate. My views are very different.” Jean gathered the long skirts of her riding habit and turned to go.

“Geoffrey isn’t the only reason for my offer.”

Something sadly like hope fluttered her pulse. Jean stood still. If he kissed her now, she might waver. Even give in. Which made her want to go and to stay in equal measure.

“The Wandrells, the family we met on our ride today, will probably call here tomorrow,” he went on. “I can evade the visit. But that will just make them more likely to poke and pry and gossip about your presence here, unchaperoned.”

Jean was glad she had her back to him, because humiliating tears flooded her eyes. She blinked them back. “So you think we must marry in order to satisfy the proprieties?” It was the very reason her parents had been forced into marriage—yoked together in misery for the rest of their lives. She would rather give up society and live as the Duke of Hamilton’s hermit than settle for such a thing, Jean thought fiercely.

“We have rather crossed the line,” Lord Furness added. “More than once. But I didn’t want to frighten you with expressions of passion.”

Jean turned to stare at him. “Frighten me?”

“As I did the other night.”

She gritted her teeth. “I wasn’t frightened of you. I’m not frightened of anything! I told you it had nothing to do with that.”

“I wasn’t quite clear on what you were telling me.”

“You might try listening instead of making pronouncements.”

“I don’t think that’s quite—”

“The point is, I’ve seen the wretched results of a forced marriage,” she interrupted. “And I’d rather beg in the street.” She turned away again. “I’ll leave for London as soon as I can arrange for a chaise.”

“Miss Saunders, wait.”

She didn’t.

“Of course I also feel regard for you.”

Jean stood rigid, her hand on the doorknob.Regard.Was there a more pallid word in the English language? She stalked out. She did not, of course, slam the door. Such pettiness was beneath her.

Benjamin stood, stricken, under the portrait of his…first wife. He hadn’t thought of Alice in those terms before. Not until a young lady with stubborn curls and an indomitable spirit had shown him a new side of his son, and of himself. She couldn’t go. How could he keep her?

With that thought came the realization of just how badly he’d botched his proposal. He’d rushed in on a surge of emotion, roused by the look she and Geoffrey had exchanged. He’d been wild to cherish and protect. But the words that came out of his mouth had suggested a cold bargain instead. He was an idiot!

He sank down on the sofa and put his head in his hands.

She’d kissed him with such innocent fire. It made him wild to remember those kisses. And if she’d pulled away with more than a maiden’s concern, well, Benjamin understood the weight of the past. Didn’t he? Not enough to make his case, it seemed.

He sprang up, suddenly desperate. He needed time. He needed help.

Twelve

“I’d thought matters were all but settled,” said Benjamin’s uncle half an hour later, after Benjamin had poured out his troubles in one great rush. “This is unfortunate.”

Benjamin gritted his teeth. He hadn’t felt so clumsy since he was fifteen.

“How can I help you?”

“Urge her to stay?” A spark of hope penetrated his general gloom. Miss Saunders seemed to like his uncle. Perhaps she’d listen to him.

“And tell her you want her for your wife,” said his uncle.

“I…believe I do.”

“If you’re not certain, we should disband this house party at once.” Lord Macklin’s tone and expression were stern.

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