Free A Question of Class by Julia Tagan

would have been better if she’d never left Bridgeport, and instead worked as a maid for the rest of her life, never knowing what she’d missed. All of the grand balls, the sumptuous dinners, the beautiful clothes—it all meant nothing if she was treated as if she belonged in the gutter.
    She had nowhere to go, and no family, other than her dear sister, Sophie, who had probably forgotten her by now. When Morris had first dazzled Catherine, she’d believed a silk gown or an ostrich plume fan was all it took to be happy. And she’d been wrong.
    “Mrs. Delcour!”
    Catherine turned around. She didn’t recognize any of the faces in the crowd. Only when she heard her name called a second time did she realize the voice came from her carriage, standing a few paces behind her in the street. Mr. Thomas jumped down, strode over and, without ceremony, lifted her up and placed her inside.
     

 
    7
     
    The moment the carriage moved forward, Catherine leaped on Benjamin with a frenzy of punches. Her embarrassment at being swept off the street turned to anger. “How dare you manhandle me in that way. You will never, ever touch me like that again.”
    The carriage swayed and she fell hard on top of him. She didn’t care she was almost straddling the man, and let out her fury with her fists. She was livid with Morris and Percy for making a fool of her, and with herself for thinking either man would treat her with dignity. And now here was yet another male trying to subdue and control her. A blinding rage surged through her, one she’d never let loose before, and her blows rained down on Benjamin. At first he blocked them but she was too quick and squirmed out of his grasp. Finally, as she tired, he grabbed her and pinned her arms to her sides. She panted from a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.
    She was still straddling him in the most unladylike fashion, her hair had come undone and she was breathing hard. But Catherine didn’t care anymore about being ladylike. If she was no better than a scullery maid, she might as well act like one and stop putting on these silly airs.
    “Are you finished?” He lifted her off his lap and placed her on the seat beside him. The sound of the rain on the roof grew louder.
    “How did you know where to find me?”
    “I had a feeling I’d find you wherever Percy Bonneville was.”
    “Percy.” She averted her eyes. “Yes.”
    “And how did your tete-a-tete go?” Benjamin didn’t seem to be teasing her. He seemed interested.
    “Not well, I’m afraid.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “Yes, it appears I am on my own.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    Catherine had held her head high this past year, through the snubs and Morris’s tirades and now Percy’s proposition. The sympathetic tone of Benjamin’s voice broke her spirit completely. No one had cared for her, and no one would care what happened to her. This unexpected act of kindness, particularly when she’d just been attempting to beat him senseless, overwhelmed her and she wept.
    Benjamin held out his handkerchief.
    “Please, put down the curtains,” she said through her tears. “I can’t bear for anyone to see me like this.”
    He closed the curtain next to him, and then reached across and drew the other one. His face was inches away and she noticed his eyes were a greenish brown, surrounded by thick lashes. Her breathing quickened, and she sensed his breath was short as well. Neither moved for a second, and a thrill went through her body. She pressed her mouth to his.
    His lips tasted salty and warm, and she opened her mouth, welcoming his tongue. He grabbed her and lifted her back onto his lap. Catherine ran her fingers roughly through his hair. She had never wanted a man so badly.
    “We should stop this right now,” he whispered.
    The rain beat down even harder, blocking out any of the sounds of the street. Catherine pulled the top of her dress down, exposing one breast to the air.
    Benjamin dropped his head back.