The Postilion (The Masqueraders #2) - S.M. LaViolette Page 0,108

do so often in the years to come.”

The only sign that his words touched her was a slight darkening of the skin over her cheekbones.

“To explain my reaction these past few days I will have to bore you a bit with some ancient history.”

She nodded.

“The other night, you mentioned my behavior at the Redruth mine the day of the cave-in.”

Jago could see by her raised eyebrows that his choice of topic had surprised her.

“My immediate response was to disabuse you of any fantasies you might hold where I am concerned.” His mouth twisted into a self-deprecating smile. “You see, I am not a good man by design—as I believe some people are, like Elinor Worth, for example. My natural impulses are … well, let’s just say they are selfish and less than pure and noble. I flatter myself that struggling against my natural inclinations these past eighteen years might have done something to wipe away the stain on my soul from the first eighteen.”

Jago smiled at the look of disbelief on her face. “It’s true. When I was a young man, I was arrogant, willful, and careless. I acted on every impulse that fluttered into my head. I was my mother’s favorite and she spoiled me atrociously. I was raised knowing that all the responsibility for the family fell on Cadan’s shoulders. Cadan would have to make the sacrifices, not me. Cadan would have to marry an heiress to save the family fortunes, not me. Cadan would have to devote his life to resuscitating a crumbling estate, not me.” He shrugged. “I never saw anything wrong with that. It seemed my natural birthright to have exactly what I wanted.”

Jago hesitated and considered what he was about to confess. It had been many years, but the pain was still surprisingly sharp. But she needed to know the truth; she deserved to know.

He looked up from unhappy thoughts of his distant past and found the woman he hoped to share his future with, watching him. “My best friend since I could toddle was a neighboring squire’s son—Brian St. John. We were the same age, grew up together, and ended up going to Eton together. He lived closer to the village than I and spent more time with the neighboring children than I ever did. It was Brian who first met the vicar’s enchanting niece—Gloria Bennett, who came to live with her uncle and aunt when she was an adolescent.

“Brian fell in love with her at first sight—I could see it, so could everyone else. Including Ria. I could also see, even back then, that she would never have him. Ria had—well, let’s just say that I don’t think her childhood had been easy. She was an orphan who’d been passed from family member to family member. Even at that age it was clear that she’d set her sights on something grander than the wife of a country squire.” He snorted softly. “For a while I fancied that something was me.”

He looked into Benna’s cool blue eyes, his face heating at what he was about to say. “It would be false modesty to say that I’m unaware of my appearance, or that I don’t realize that some women find me attractive.”

For the first time, she wore an expression he recognized: amusement.

“What?” he asked.

She just shook her head. “Go on,” she ordered.

He narrowed his eyes at her but continued, “At eighteen I was fully aware of the power my looks afforded me; it was a power I enjoyed greatly and exercised often. In my limited experience there had been no woman who did not fall before my handsome face and easy manners. To be honest, I had not paid much mind to Gloria before that summer, believing her to be beneath me. Yes,” he said when she pursed her lips with disappointment. “I was quite the puffed-up little toad.

“In any case, I saw her at one of the local assemblies and it was as if I’d been struck between the eyes with a mallet. I knew in that moment that I was the man for her—even though I couldn’t give her a fortune and the title she so dearly—and unabashedly—desired. I was sure that I could give her something better than mere money or an earldom: I could give her my love.”

Jago paused, dreading this next part. “It’s such a common story: a woman coming between two friends—not that it was Ria’s fault. No, I was the one who pursued her. I behaved like