The Postilion (The Masqueraders #2) - S.M. LaViolette Page 0,49

in more ways than one.

Benna took off her hat and watched him ride away, scratching her head. The only dye she’d found that didn’t run when she perspired was harsh and left her scalp dry and itchy.

She watched until she couldn’t see him any longer, put on her cap, and turned back to her chores.

What had that been all about? Was he going to pretend that he’d never learned that she was a woman?

Was he going to act as though she’d never kissed him?

***

Six days later Benna decided that, indeed, his lordship seemed determined to go along as though nothing had changed between them.

Every morning he appeared a half-hour after dawn.

After that first morning, she had Asclepius saddled and ready for him when he arrived.

He would bid her a polite—but cool—good morning and then go for an hour-long ride.

When he returned—deliciously damp and sweaty—he let Benna tend to his mount while he roamed the stable blocks and environs.

After she finished caring for Asclepius, the earl might spend a few minutes discussing what projects she was working on and what he wanted done next.

The whole time he spoke to her pleasantly, but without the spark of humor and friendliness that she only now realized—after it was gone—he’d employed especially with her. Gone were the smiles, the little jests, the requests for her opinion on various matters.

Gone was any suggestion of intimate games of chess up in his study.

Now he treated her with the same aloofness that he did every other female. Well, everyone except his friend Mrs. Elinor Worth. With her he was always as warm and affectionate as he had once been with Benna.

Benna didn’t know if his change in behavior was because she was a woman or because she was a liar, or perhaps both.

Or perhaps it was because he didn’t want her to fling herself at him like some sort of demented heroine in a gothic romance?

Had Benna become yet another one of many women who’d repelled him with their amorous advances?

She feared it was so.

Just recalling her behavior that night was enough to make her want to crawl under a rock and stay there. Forever.

But there was no time for hiding under rocks or anywhere else. Today, for the first time, she was accompanying her new charges out on their first refresher ride.

Benna kept trying to fall behind the two girls, as was proper for a male servant accompanying his mistresses, but they kept thwarting her, until she ended up riding between them.

“What do you think, Ben? Am I an accomplished rider?”

“You appear very comfortable in the saddle, Lady Mariah.” Accomplished would take a little longer.

“I was seven when Papa sold my pony. He said Blossom was too small for me and that he would find me a proper mount.”

Catherine snorted. “He never had any intention of replacing either of our ponies, Mariah. He sold them because he needed the money.”

“I think Father was just looking for the perfect horses for us,” the younger girl insisted.

“You are such a ninny, Mariah. Sometimes I think you are still seven. Do you really think it takes ten years to find two horses? Ben managed it in one day.”

Benna wished that she’d managed to drop back behind the bickering siblings before this conversation began. She knew that the last earl had had money problems, but it was hardly the kind of information the two sisters should be discussing in front of a servant.

Mariah bit her lip and stared down at her too-tightly clenched hands.

Benna opened her mouth, but Lady Catherine wasn’t done.

“It doesn’t matter what Papa did or said anymore. Uncle Jago promised we shall have all the things we’ve been lacking.” Catherine turned her navy-blue eyes on Benna. “He said we will go to London in the spring. I shall have a Season.” Her eyes sparkled and her voice was hushed, as though she were passing along a juicy tidbit of gossip.

“That sounds very nice, my lady,” Benna murmured.

It actually sounded like hell, but Benna knew she was in the minority with that opinion.

“It will be divine. I shall have dozens of gowns and dance until the early hours and meet wonderful—”

Benna let her ramble, pleased not to have to speak. She had wondered why the younger woman had stopped haunting the stables recently. It seemed that the lure of a London Season would be Benna’s savior.

Benna had always done her best to avoid London like the plague. It was worse than the plague, actually. She’d rather have buboes