Such a thing would make Beaumont quite wealthy, though as Lady Yates had shared a few days before, Beaumont was already one of the wealthiest men in England.
Beatrix had found it odd how much Lord and Lady Yates looked alike until she’d discovered them to be first cousins. They were both short and pretty. Their hair was red and their eyes a hazel gold.
Mr. Yates grinned at Hero, waiting for his reply.
“You are both very fortunate,” Hero said as he lifted his coffee to them in a toast.
“Yes, it has kept us busy,” Beaumont went on. “But Val understands. Don’t you, dear?”
“Of course.” Valiant turned to her brother. “This is Lady Gillingham’s first Season, Hero, and she has been wise to seek out my expertise for her clothing choices. I allowed Madam Keats to experiment with a new design for Lady Beatrix’s day dresses. The ribbon pull in the front. I’m thinking of doing the same to some of my clothes. Tell me what you think of the design?” She tilted her head and studied Beatrix.
Hero’s gaze swept down the portion of Beatrix that was not hidden underneath the table.
Beatrix held her breath.
“Magnificent design,” he said as he looked into her eyes.
Did he think the dress magnificent or her? She couldn’t wait until she could thank him for everything he’d done for her. The last two weeks had been more than anything she’d ever imagined. She was sleeping late, pleasure reading between the hours that Valiant had nothing for her to do or learn, and had more pretty clothes than she’d ever had in her life. “Thank you,” she said with great feeling.
He nodded and then turned to his sister. “You should certainly have one or two made in the same fashion.”
Perhaps he had only liked the dress.
“I believe you should commission at least a dozen dresses that way.” Beaumont looked at Beatrix. “It’s quite fetching. The yellow makes your skin like porcelain, the men will say. You’ll likely to be the belle of the ball.”
Lady Yates laughed. “Yes, the dress is lovely, but I wouldn’t put so much pressure on Lady Gillingham coming out. She is, after all, twenty-five, and though extremely lovely, that’s far too old to be a belle. Let us not have her thinking that men will come in droves for her.” She smiled at Beatrix. “You’ll still do very well, especially once they hear of the inheritance your aunt left you.”
“More than well,” Lord Yates said. “I imagine there will be more than a few lords who don’t mind her age and see the beautiful and kind woman that she is.”
Beatrix grinned. Val’s friends were very kind.
“Ah, I remember the year I saw Valiant,” Beaumont went on, smiling at his wife. “She was indeed the belle and now I have her as my very own.”
Valiant giggled, and her fingers fluttered to her lips. “Beau, do behave.”
Beatrix smiled and turned to find Hero watching Beaumont closely.
Then Lord Yates began another conversation about the canal.
The breakfast went well, and Beatrix sighed with relief when it was over.
Lord Beaumont left with Lord and Lady Yates for business reasons. The rest saw them to the door then Hero turned to Beatrix and said, “Have you seen the gardens here yet? They are quite lovely.”
They truly were. Beaumont rented one of the largest properties in London all year round. “I’ve seen a portion but not everything.”
“Will you take a stroll with me?” He turned to Val. “If you don’t mind, I wish to speak to Lady Gillingham alone.”
“Of course, I don’t mind. Go enjoy the gardens. I’ve letters to write and invitations to accept.”
∫ ∫ ∫
1 1
Beatrix took Hero’s offered arm and allowed him to escort her outside.
They’d barely left the terrace before he said, “You look beautiful, though that has nothing to do with the dress. The color and design only enhance what was already there.”
She was stunned by the compliment. “Thank you.”
“How have you been?”
For a moment, she wanted to complain and tell him he’d know if he’d visited, but then she calmed down. Why would he visit her? He’d made it very clear that he had no intentions of courting her.
It was good he’d stayed away. She’d needed the time to accept what was and wasn’t between them.
Gratitude. Friendship, perhaps?
She only had Joanna as a friend. Could her heart allow another? A man? How many of them had failed her over the years?
They went right, taking a path Beatrix had yet to travel. The fragrance was heavy. Lord-and-ladies and purple roses bloomed along the path in pattern beds that made the field a rainbow of beauty.
And it was a beauty she’d have missed had she turned down Hero’s offer.
“I can’t thank you enough for all of this,” she said. “The clothes, the introduction to your sister, who I believe to be a saint…”
He chuckled. “You’d not have thought her a saint had you stood to leave a room and found yourself face down on the floor because your shoes had been tied together.”
Beatrix laughed. “Did she truly tie your shoes together?”
“Not just mine. My brothers and me. She’d gone around and slipped under everyone’s chair. We were none the wiser until we got up to leave. She was six at the time. Quite clever.”
She laughed again. “Oh, you must have had a happy childhood.”
“We did.” He grinned down at her. “When last did you see your brother? Do you think he’ll be here for the Season?”
She shrugged. “I doubt it. He is likely still without much income. It’s been over five years since I’ve seen him. That was when I left my family’s estate.”
“It’s been that long? How have you survived all this time? What did you do once you left him?”
She thought for a while. “I was too ashamed to ask for work in the village so I caught a ride with a generous farmer who was heading to the city with his livestock. He kindly offered me a position at the market.”
He stopped walking and all humor left his face. “Smithfield Market?”
She nodded.
His face turned foul as though he could smell the stink of the market on her. The place was filthy. Every year, farmers brought their herds to be sold and slaughtered in London. It was likely the largest market in the world. The scent of animal droppings and blood hung heavy in the air.
Thieves and pickpockets ran amok through the area. It was dangerous and filthy, and she had no clue why she’d shared that terrible truth with Hero. She wished she could take it back.
She tried to take her arm back, but Hero would not release it.
“You know, I hope to never meet your brother,” he said with venom in his voice. “I’m likely to box him in the ears for what he has done to you.”
Her eyes widened. “You’d defend me against my brother?”
“Of course, I would. No true gentleman would ever leave his sister in such a state.”
“You don’t know what I did to upset him.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I would never let Valiant go hungry. Not for a day. Not for an hour.” There was that integrity again that set him apart from any other man she knew.
“What happened?” he asked. “Between you and your brother. If you don’t wish to share, I won’t force you.”
* * *
Hero waited to see if Beatrix would trust him and for some reason, he greatly hoped that she would.
Had she been intimate with a man? Had she stolen something? Disgraced the family name? It didn’t matter. He knew that whatever sin Beatrix harbored would not be that great. She was far too kind a woman to have committed a tragedy that deserved starvation and the threat of death.
He’d wanted to see her for weeks but had restrained himself. She’d had no use for him while learning the ways of the court, and he’d had to deal with the thugs who’d cut him. The three men were safely in Newgate, likely to never take another m
an unaware. He’d also looked for Hatcher to no avail.
His only connection to Beatrix had been through his sister. She’d informed him at dinner how well she was progressing. She’d invited Beatrix to the family meals as well, but Lady Gillingham thought it better to not appear at a table with the Duke of Ayers until she was ready.
And now she was.
She was bound to shine this Season, and he’d be with her most of the way, if only in the background to give guidance to which man she should choose.
Again, he thought her brother deserved a good drubbing. Beatrix should never have been put in this situation. Had she been treated well, she’d have married years ago, he was sure. What had she done to displease him?
“I refused to marry his friend,” she finally said. “Another lord.”
“And that caused your brother to completely disown you?” He knew lords who’d have been quite upset about it. It was a lady’s duty to obey the gentleman who’d been placed in charge of her, but Beatrix’s punishment had not fit her crime. Not at all. It was dishonorable.
“Was this friend of your brother’s old?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Was he disfigured in some way?”
“No.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Why did you refuse?”
“I... did not love him.” She looked away. “I know now how foolish I was to wish for a love match. I should have said yes.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He himself had only begun to truly think of marriage a few weeks ago when his father had mentioned it.
Had she been foolish to wish for love? Likely so. She was an earl’s daughter and had her own duties to uphold.
But then he thought about his sister and Lord Beaumont.
What would happen if his sister didn’t fulfill her duty? Beaumont clearly enjoyed having her for a bride, or so it appeared, but what was the truth? Would a love match have made the disappointment of not having children better?
He wondered at her words even though he was sure Beatrix was leaving part of the story out. He only hoped that one day she’d tell him the truth. The whole truth.
He started them down the garden path again. At the end of it was a white gazebo with a wooden bench that circled the interior. He took her there. “So, you’ll not look for love this Season.”
“Not at all. I’ve only months to decide and that is far too short a time to fall in love, I believe.” She gave him a quick look. “And don’t think I’m asking for more time, because I am not. Instead, I would gladly settle for a… friend. Someone I can be comfortable with.”
A tolerable marriage.
It would do. Her assignment was to wed before he left for Asia. He’d not thought her to find love either.
He should be glad to hear this from her, but then he thought of Val. “You should look for more… if you can find it.”
* * *
“More?” Beatrix asked as she allowed Hero to escort her into the gazebo.
“Happiness,” Hero said.
She let him go and moved toward the center of the gazebo. She did a slow twirl. Her ribbons rippled in the wind. Under the shelter, she took off her bonnet and revealed her umber hair.
She held the bonnet in her delicate pale fingers and turned to him. Her green eyes were watchful. “Do you think a few months enough time to find true happiness? To fall in love?”
Hero thought it more than enough time. If any man saw what he was seeing, it would take only weeks, perhaps days.
“My parents fell for one another in an afternoon,” he shared.
Her eyes went wide. “An afternoon?” She smiled and moved to take a seat, her expression one of great expectation. “You must share this tale.”
Hero took a seat beside her, leaving a foot between them. “They met at a garden party. They took one look at one another—”
“And fell in love?”
“Loathed each other rather intensely.”
She gasped. “Why?”
He chuckled. “My father spilled tea on her dress and knocking into her caused her to spill tea on his shirt. They blamed one another for the accident. Even to the day my mother died, they still said the other was to blame. They spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding one another.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like love.”
“Ah, but before the party came to an end, my father remembered that he was a Curbain, was a man of honor, and sought the lady out to apologize. She forgave him and then they began to court.”
She smiled dreamily. “Honor. It means that much to your family?”
“Greatly. I will tell you our legend another time.” It was one many members of the ton knew, though few believed. Honor was the fabric of the Curbain name.
“Then I am very glad to have a man like you fighting for our country.” Then she straightened and shook her head. “No. Actually, I am glad to know that you exist at all.”
Her words struck him harder than any other compliment he’d heard in a very long time. It was clear from her eyes that she was not flirting with him but simply stating what she thought to be true. It was humbling. “Thank you, my lady.”
“My parents didn’t love at all,” she said. “It was a very traditional match between very good names, though they were very fond of me and my brother. Now, Gillingham means very little, I’m sure.”
He had to restrain himself from touching her when he spoke. “For me, it means very much.” She’d saved him, after all.
She smiled once more, and he was glad for it. Then her brows drew together. “Did you find the men who hurt you?”
“I did.”
“Good. It was terrible what they did. I can’t imagine what would have happened had it been someone else who’d found you or if...” Her concern for him was clearly real and very deep.
He stood quickly. “Let me return you to the house.” He needed to get away from her. She was not for him. She was for someone else, a lord who had no military ambitions. A lord who could make her happy.
She stood and placed her bonnet back upon her head. “Yes, we’ve been gone long enough.” She was ever the proper lady.
It was yet another thing that drew him in.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 2
As she exited the throne room at the palace, Beatrix took steadying breaths and closed her eyes briefly as she tried to gain control of her heart.
A hand squeezed her arm, and she opened her eyes to find Valiant smiling at her.
“You see?” her friend said. “It wasn’t all that bad, now was it? You backed away from the queen marvelously.”
Beatrix shook her head and realized Valiant and Hero had been right. She’d made her curtsey to the queen and it had not been terrible at all.
Though the fuss over the day had made her dearly wish for her room in the tavern again.
First, there had been dressing.
Beatrix reached up and touched her ridiculous headdress. There were ribbons, seven ostrich features, and more diamonds and pearls than she could imagine fitted to her head. She was only glad that Val’s modiste had found a way to make it in a fashion so the jewels could be returned to Valiant unharmed.
Then there were more dangling from her arms and throat. She glittered like a chandelier, but then so did every other woman who’d been presented.
But how they’d managed to get her into the carriage with her large hoop skirts— another requirement of Queen Charlotte’s she didn’t understand— she’d never know.
And then the carriages had lined up. Dozens had been escorted down St. James like a parade. By the time the last gun had sounded their arrival to the palace, Beatrix was sure she’d looked like a trembling bird and had gone white as snow.
All Valiant had said was, “At least your current paleness still suits you.”
But it had gone just as Hero had said it would on the day they’d spoken about it three weeks ago. She’d stood in line with the other debutants, most of them many years young
er than herself, and had been presented without any unfortunate accidents.
It had gone well.
“Lady Gillingham?” someone to her right called.
She turned to find a familiar woman standing a pace away, as she would have to since Beatrix’s silver and fuchsia hoop skirt was in the way. “Lady Pellton?” The woman had been her neighbor as a child. She curtseyed to the viscountess and then introduced her to Val.
Lady Pellton said, “I’d heard rumors of your return but…” Then she cleared her throat and turned to the young woman at her side. “And you may recall my daughter. This is her first Season as well. You might remember her.”
Beatrix bent her knee again. “Of course, Miss Rider. How are you?”
Lily Rider curtsied and then smiled up at her. She was far younger than Beatrix. She was eighteen now but was shaping up to become very beautiful. She had golden hair and wide brown eyes. She wore a hoopskirt much like all the other debutants in the room, hers green and gold.
“I remember you,” Lily said brightly. “You used to do that trick and make a flower appear in my hands.”
Beatrix’s cheeks stung with embarrassment. It had actually been a trick her brother had taught her when they’d been friends.
In their past, there had been moments when Benedict had annoyed her to no end, but then there had been other moments when he’d been tender.
“A trick for Trixie,” Benedict had said.
“How very clever of you,” Valiant said to Beatrix. “You’ll have to show me how it’s done.”
“Mama,” Lily said. “We must invite Lady Beaumont and Lady Gillingham to my party.”
“Yes,” Lady Pellton agreed. “Her cousin, Lord Pellton, is to have a party. I’ll send you both invitations.” Lady Pellton’s husband had died long ago and without heir, their cousin had taken the title.
Beatrix was glad to hear that the cousin was treating the women fairly.
Lady Pellton’s gaze then settled on Beatrix. ‘I never thought to see you again, my dear. Especially after… Please come.” She smiled again and then moved on.
The Perfect Lady (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 6
