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Season to make her choice. It
shouldn’t be so. He should trust that she’d turn down any other offer to be
with him, but he knew that wasn’t true. And he couldn’t come straight out and
ask if there were gentlemen she might be considering. “Will you be returning to
Hambledon at the end of the Season?”
    “Yes. I shall be happy to see my home again.”
    “Gilbert didn’t speak much of home. Did you have a happy
childhood there?”
    “As happy as most, I should imagine.”
    “Your parents had a happy marriage?”
    She was quiet so long he looked down at her. She fiddled
with her gloves, a habit he’d noticed when she was uncomfortable with the
topic.
    “I’m sorry, that is rather forward of me. I shouldn’t ask
such personal questions.”
    “No.” She folded her hands in her lap. “You have the right
to ask, with all we’ve been through. I’m not used to speaking of my family,
though.”
    “Would you prefer to ask about mine? You knew my
grandfather, the fishing magnate. He didn’t spend a lot of time with his
children, as is often the case. My father preferred work also. My mother never
complained in my hearing, but she might have done so to her friends.”
    “You weren’t close to either of your parents?”
    “Not really, no. I poured myself into my schoolwork and
making friends, so I wasn’t unhappy.” But he now knew why he preferred
mistresses to wives or families. He was comfortable with the lack of affection
and expectations. In the months after Jean and her mother left Three Gables, he
had discovered something about himself. “I want more for my family.”
    “I’m surprised to hear you speak of your own family. I
thought you were planning to wait to begin your nursery until you could put it
off no longer.” There was no accusation in her tone this time.
    “I thought so too, once.” He steered down Mount Street
toward Berkeley Square.
    “My mother married for love. She was happy to do without
material things just to be with my father. Then one night he was in his cups
and confessed the lady he’d proposed to first had turned him down.”
    Ben shook his head. “That is unforgivable.”
    “And unforgettable. I used to hear her crying in the kitchen
at night, but she only admitted the truth to me a few years ago.” Miss Seton’s
shoulders straightened. “I won’t marry any man unless I am certain he loves me
in return.”
    “You deserve no less.”
    Did he love her? He wanted her. Of that he was certain. He
was far happier now, in London, where he could spend time with her, than he’d
been at Greater Yarmouth. What did love feel like? He only knew the kind his
parents had after years spent together. Yet there must be something more to it
than simply being comfortable with one’s choice of spouse. He wanted passion.
He wanted always to feel his blood rush the way his did when he thought about
kissing Miss Seton. He would settle for no less.
    Miss Seton coughed softly. “I won’t share my husband with a
mistress.”
    “No man could even think of another woman when he’s with
you.”
    Her cheeks darkened. “We shouldn’t speak of such things.”
    “Yes, we should. You know I wish to marry you, no matter how
much you pretend otherwise. If we cannot speak plainly, there is no hope for a
happy outcome.”
    “You know my feelings on the matter. I can’t state them any
more plainly than I just did.”
    “The mistress thing, do you mean? I ended our relationship
and have no desire to form a new one of that sort. I want only one woman, Miss
Seton. I wish for you to become my wife.”
    “You said you enjoyed the time we spent at Three Gables
pretending to be betrothed. You didn’t fall in love with me, if you believe
that is what you feel. You fell for the situation. I can see how you came to
realize the married lifestyle could be pleasant, and I am happy for you to know
this about yourself. But now you must look for the woman who suits you best. I
am not that woman. You only