Page 37 of Their Wildest Dreams

“Because it appeared the lesser of two evils,” he said.

“And what was the greater?”

“Returning to your chamber and breaking the vow I made to both of us.”

Harriet stood motionless before the sideboard. The toast remained caught between the silver tongs. She could feel the heat rising from her throat to her face, but Benedict made no effort to spare her embarrassment by looking away.

Mrs. Mercer had told her that he wanted her. Harriet had known it herself before asking the question. Hearing him speak of the strength of that wanting was another matter.

She returned the toast to the rack and set the tongs down. “I have decided to release you from that vow.”

The cup stopped halfway to Benedict’s mouth.

For several seconds, he did not move. He watched that stillness with bated breath. Then he placed it carefully upon the saucer. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” she replied, her tone deceptively casual. “I have decided that the vow, as it stands, was made in haste.”

“I believe I did, but I am reluctant to trust any conclusion reached while my head is in this condition.” He rose from the table. The movement brought another flicker of pain across his face, though it did not lessen the intensity of his expression. “Harriet, are you certain?”

“No.”

He stared at her.

“I am not certain of anything,” she continued before he could speak. “That is the difficulty. I insisted upon an arrangement when I knew nothing of what marriage to you would be. I cannot discover whether I want it to remain so while I continue avoiding the very thing upon which I am attempting to decide. I grow weary of my own ignorance in these matters.”

“You wish me to bed you as an experiment?”

Harriet’s face burned hotter. “That is a very crude way of saying it.”

“It is also a clear one.” Benedict came around the table. “I need to understand what you are offering before I allow myself to accept it.”

She lifted her chin. “I am offering to renegotiate, as you suggested. I do not know what the result will be. I cannot promise that one night will alter every other term between us, nor can I promise I will not be frightened when the moment comes. But if I remain ignorant, I shall remain uncertain. I have had enough of both.”

Benedict said nothing. His astonishment would have been gratifying had Harriet not felt so painfully exposed. She had begun to think he meant to refuse when hurried footsteps sounded in the hall.

The door opened, and a servant announced that a rider had arrived from Denham Park with an urgent message.

Benedict took the folded paper. As he read, the desire and disbelief in his expression gave way to alarm.

“What has happened?” Harriet asked.

“My father has fallen from the new stallion.” He scanned the message again, his mouth tightening. “He is conscious and insists he is unhurt, which my mother correctly interprets as evidence that he should not be trusted. He is refusing to permit the physician to examine him. She wants me to come and talk sense into him.”

“Then you must go.”

His gaze lifted, locking on hers with an intensity that was startling. “This conversation is not finished. It has barely begun, in fact.”

“Your father may have broken his neck.”

“If he had broken his neck, I doubt he would be arguing with my mother about the doctor.” Benedict folded the letter but continued looking at Harriet. “Still, I cannot ignore it.”

“Nor should you. We will speak when you return. I will not suddenly lose my courage. I have made my position clear and I will not be backing away from it now.” She picked up her abandoned plate, though eating had become impossible. “I mean to visit Alderley this morning. I should like to spend some time visiting with my father and my sister. I promised I would not become a stranger simply because I now live a few miles away. I shall take the carriage and return this afternoon.”

Benedict hesitated. “Take a groom as well as the coachman.”

“I have traveled that road all my life.”

“Humor me.” His tone made the request sound very near an order, but his expression held concern rather than arrogance. “After what you said of Selby this morning, I would prefer that you were not alone.”