for the first time since she’d run away from Wake House she felt tempted to let somebody else help shoulder her burden.
Even before this disastrous mess with Michael—long before she’d had to survive on her own—she had possessed what her brother David called an unfeminine tendency toward self-sufficiency.
“Men want a woman they can cherish and care for, Benna. Not an Amazon who can best them at everything.” David had flung the words at her after they’d raced their new hunters and she had—not for the first time—beaten him.
He might have spoken in anger, but she’d known that his words were the truth.
Unlike David, who’d been intensely social, Benna had always liked her own company and preferred to keep other people at a distance. Never before had she yearned to know another person’s inner workings and private thoughts.
Like she now did with Jago.
Based on what Benna knew about him—which was, albeit, limited—Jago was one of the most honest and honorable people she’d ever met. Honesty and honor were two rare characteristics that she’d come to value highly after five years with Geoff.
The little bit of his doctoring that she’d been privileged to observe had demonstrated a man who was kind without being mawkish, competent without sliding into arrogance, and gentle but willing to do whatever was necessary, even if it was unpleasant.
It wasn’t a wonder that she’d fallen in love; it was a wonder that every woman in his orbit wasn’t hopelessly besotted.
In the flickering light of the fire, she could see the deep lines fanning from his eyelids, something she had never noticed when looking into his magnificent eyes.
Benna ran a finger over the same place on her own face and felt only smooth, unlined skin. She felt unformed compared to him. He’d lived a full life while she’d spent her first seventeen years hiding from the world on her father’s estate and the last six pretending to be somebody else entirely.
Tonight had been the single most wonderful night of her life. Benna had wanted him sexually, of course, but even more than that, she had craved closeness and intimacy.
Before Jago she’d never been tempted to confide who she really was to anyone. She was no fool; in a world where people had to scrape and struggle to survive, a wealthy renegade duchess on the run from her guardian would always be a temptation—just as she had been to Geoffrey.
As much as she wanted to wake Jago up and pour out the truth to him, it chilled her to recall just how easily Geoff could have convinced her of his love if he’d known her identity those first few months, back before she’d really known him.
What if she was making a similar mistake now?
Benna shook her head; she refused to believe it was the same thing.
Geoff and Jago were cut from two entirely different types of cloth. It would no more occur to Jago to exploit her for his own gain than he would think to leave a stranger broken and bleeding if they couldn’t afford to pay for treatment.
She didn’t have to take her own word for his sterling character; his actions at the mine that day spoke far louder than words.
Benna looked down at the beautiful, loving man beside her. Even though he had denied it earlier, he was a hero of the sort she’d come to believe were only found in fairytales.
But she could not confide in him.
He’d been difficult enough to seduce when he believed her an independent woman of experience. If he ever discovered that he’d bedded a peeress of the realm he would feel honor bound to marry her, no matter what the consequences.
If she were twenty-five, she might tell him the truth, even knowing that to do so would trap him into marriage. But at least he would get something from the union.
But if she were to tell him now? He would be throwing away his chance to save his estate.
He denied wanting to marry Mrs. Valera, but Benna had seen the determination in the other woman’s eyes; it was the look of a person who was accustomed to getting what she wanted.
If Jago married the wealthy widow he could save Lenshurst Park and his family’s legacy. He could provide for his nieces and ensure they had promising futures. He could care for Lady Trebolton, a fragile, needy woman who would never survive without somebody to look after her. He could pay off his crushing debts and improve the lives of the hundreds