Neither had kept their own spoon.
Hero took up a serving of the chocolate and placed it in his mouth. Then he licked the spoon until it was clean. “Delicious.”
Beatrix forgot how to breathe.
Her eyes moved from his mouth to find his gaze on her. Heat became infused with her skin and burrowed itself deep within.
She’d seen many things in her time. Between working at the market and the tavern, she’d had more than her fair share of circumstances where any good lady would have fainted, but never had she felt as weak in the knees as she did now.
“Try the lavender.” It was a dare as much as it was a command.
She looked down and picked up the spoon he’d given her, the one he’d already used, and fed herself a portion of the ice.
She savored its richness. A hint of him lingered and made the flavor as bold as her action. The cold should have cooled her, but one glance into Hero’s eyes had her melting on the sidewalk.
He moved closer but didn’t touch her. “How does it taste?”
Did he mean the ice or him?
Her head felt light.
His hand came up and took her elbow. “Lady Gillingham?”
She took a deep breath and locked her knees.
By Jove! She’d been about to faint and likely would have if Hero hadn’t had a firm arm on her.
A small thump alerted her to the fact that she’d dropped her ice.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She glanced around and noticed a few people watching them. She took a step back and his arm fell away. “I’m fine. The day is just rather warm.” She turned away from him and kept her head low, hoping to hide underneath the brim of her bonnet. She knew she was blushing.
* * *
She was blushing.
And she’d nearly fainted when he’d asked her about the ice.
Could it be Hero who’d had that effort on her?
Confound it! She’d claimed the day to be warm, and he had to believe that was the reason for her oddness.
“Let us stop here.” They found shade underneath a tree and when a gentleman got up from the bench, Hero helped Beatrix into the seat before taking a place at her side.
“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet and shook slightly. She balled her hands in her lap. “I only need a moment.” She continued to keep her face averted from his view.
She’d nearly fainted.
A woman had never fainted over him. Such things only happened with Lore. Women didn’t even faint about Asher, from what Hero knew about his brother— unless, of course, they were receptors of his wrath.
Women admired Hero. He was a lord, the son of a duke, a general. When women saw him, they saw an opportunity to become a duchess, a right to the Curbain name, and a way to have higher status and power in the upper-crust.
Nothing more.
By no means did Hero have the face of a man who made women fall head over heels with a single glance, though he was certain he was not hideous either.
However, were it not for the circumstances of his birth and the achievements he’d gained thereafter, women would never look at him twice.
Yet, he was reminded of the kindness Beatrix had shown him. She’d cared for him even while knowing nothing about him except for the fact that he’d been in need of help.
Had she done this for other men or was he special?
There was no way of finding out unless he asked, and he had no intention of asking.
Neither would he reveal his growing attraction to her.
It would be unfair to her Season. A woman like Beatrix would feel obligated to court and even marry him if he asked, because he was her secret benefactor.
It would be best she never knew.
And there was the fact that he didn’t intend to wed. He found it hard to remember that whenever she was about.
“Shall I get you water?”
She shook her head.
“Tea?”
“No, thank you.” She sighed.
“Something stronger than?”
She turned and smiled at him then. “I’m all right, Aristocrat. Thank you for finding the shade. I’ll be well enough to walk in a moment.” Her color had returned to its pale beauty.
“You should have brought a parasol,” he said.
“I did. It’s in the carriage.” She placed a hand on his arm when he started to move. “No, you don’t have to get it. It’s quite all right.”
“Would you like the rest of my ice?” He held it out for her.
She stared at it and then shook her head. A short laugh left her lips. “No, I gave it to you. It wouldn’t be good of me to take it just because I dropped my own.”
A scandalous thought entered his head. They were words he knew Lore would have used with a woman he found attractive. They were words that only a rogue would use. He tried to hold them back, yet somehow, they fell from his lips before he could stop them.
“We could share it.” They could take turns licking each other’s essence from the spoon.
Like a flower fresh in bloom, her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink before becoming a tempting red. The color made her eyes the most vivid shade of green he’d ever seen. Her lips parted in shock.
He was dreadfully surprised he’d said the words himself and was made to feel worse by the fact that he could not read her expression.
Was that dismay or something else?
“Lord Hero—”
“I apologize. I didn’t mean—”
“Your offer is kind.”
“No, please.”
“But, it would be inappropriate.”
“Of course.” He looked away and then stood. “Let us find my sister so that I may fight my brother. It appears the heat is affecting me as well.” He didn’t look at her again as he held his arm out to her.
He felt when she took it and counted the steps it took them to reach his sister.
He looked at no one but Lore. He grabbed his brother and started away with barely a parting word to anyone else.
“Why the rush?” Lore asked, keeping up with Hero’s power stride. “We were all sharing our most scandalous stories. Miss Pole was next.”
“I can imagine you’d have won that game,” Hero said.
“Likely,” Lore said with moderate hauteur.
But then Hero recalled just how scandalous he’d been only minutes ago.
Why had he said such a thing to Beatrix? He’d make sure he was quite formal at their next meeting. It was time to start distancing himself from the lady so that she was free to find a husband.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 5
The Reddington Ball was an event that bought Beatrix just as much worry as presenting herself to court. The only thing that had helped was the presence of Valiant and the few other women she’d met during the week.
The Reddingtons were another wealthy family who rented one of the large homes on Grosvenor Square. They were neighbors to the Duke of Ayers with a mansion that could easily fit half the court.
And it did.
After exchanging pleasantries with Lord and Lady Reddington— whose eyes she purposefully avoided— Beatrix slipped away and found herself surrounded by a sea of people.
She was drawn into the music that flowed from the ballroom upstairs and the intricate designs of everything. From the white stone pillars that held up the walls to the silk gowns worn by every lady in the room, Beatrix was left in awe.
The gold chandelier that hung from the high ceiling shone brilliantly and held at least a hundred candles.
She was dazzled and left breathless by it all, though she made certain her face didn’t show it. Valiant had told her that a lady was to appear blasé and though Beatrix was sure she could never appear to be unimpressed by the grandeur of the party, she did hide her smile—somewhat.
There were so many people present but Valiant worked to ensure that Beatrix met them all, especially the unattached lords.
A young Mr.
Carey asked Beatrix if he could perform the opening dance with her and after both Lady Yates’ and Valiant’s firm encouragement, she accepted. He seemed kind, and she was anxious to dance, but she had hoped her first dance would be with Hero.
She’d not seen him since they’d parted ways at the park. He’d not come whenever Valiant visited and though Beatrix had tried to find a reason that she could possibly need his assistance with, she hadn’t been able to.
The moment at the square had not gone well. She’d thought it extremely romantic that Hero had offered to share his ice with her. But then she’d come to her senses and realized he’d likely not been trying to be romantic at all.
There was a greater chance that his offer to share had been his honor speaking. She’d been a woman without a treat and he’d had one. The dessert had been nothing more than a chair for him, one he’d have gladly given up to any woman. She was nearly sure of it.
She’d expected Hero’s escort tonight, but Valiant had arrived alone. They’d traveled together to get Lady Yates. Lord Beaumont and Lord Yates would show once they left their club.
She’d not asked after Hero, but Valiant had volunteered the information that her brothers had to attend the ball, or they’d offend Reddington.
“Let’s go the ballroom,” Valiant suggested.
“One moment.” Lady Yates moved into a shadow and removed her earrings. “I can never wear them for long. I should have waited until we arrived before putting them on. I need to find my maid.”
Valiant said, “Then let’s go there.”
Suddenly, their host appeared from the crowd and approached. “Lady Gillingham, It has been years since I’ve seen you. Do you remember me?”
Beatrix’s heart jumped. She’d hoped to avoid this meeting, though now she knew how foolish that had been when she was in the man’s home.
From the corner of her eye, Beatrix watched Valiant and Lady Yates disappear into the crowd toward a hall. Then she turned to the duke again. “Of course, I remember you, Your Grace.” Beatrix’s smile wavered. “You and my father were friends once. We were invited to all your country parties. Your cook made the best apple tarts…”
Reddington nodded, his expression somber. “Yes, we were friends once upon a time.” Reddington was years older than her father. He had white hair and dark brown eyes that were usually warm, but not tonight.
It became hard for Beatrix to breathe; her chest was in pain as she recalled the past.
Somehow, the duke and her father had fallen apart and Beatrix had never been told why. Not even the servants had known. But the incident had been severe enough that Reddington hadn’t even attended her father’s funeral.
The duke said, “I didn’t believe you were truly in London when my wife claimed to have heard you announced when we were at court. I knew that to be impossible, given your family’s circumstances, but then she said you were attending our party with Lady Beaumont, and yet I did not believe it until I saw you. And now you are here.”
Beatrix looked down. Since Valiant had told her she’d be attending the Reddington Ball Beatrix had tried to find answers to the past from her memories, trying to recall why her father and the duke had fallen out with one another.
It was likely something to do with money, though she really wasn’t sure.
Reddington’s words alluded to some knowledge of her family’s circumstances. Her brother was clearly still impoverished. It was not news Beatrix had wished to hear.
Her eyes began to burn as did her face, but she refused to let anyone see her weep. “If you would rather I leave…”
Reddington grabbed her hand and a gentle smile touched his lips. “You are always welcome in my home, Lady Gillingham. If I’ve given you any other impression, I do apologize. You are not to blame for what took place. You were but a girl and are now a lady. We will let the past be the past. What say you?”
She smiled up at him. She’d always remembered him as a kind man and was glad to know that hadn’t changed. “I would like that.”
It was hard to believe there still existed so many admirable men in the world, yet here was the evidence.
Reddington continued to hold her hand. “Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”
Beatrix, on the verge of tears, didn’t know what came over her, but in the next instant, her arms were about Reddington. She buried her face in his chest and felt his arms come around her.
His voice came at her ear. “I’ve many regrets about the past. Forgive me.”
She was making a spectacle of herself, and she avoided the eyes of the crowd as she pulled away. Pulling in a deep breath, she whispered, “All is forgiven.” She dashed away the tears that had escaped from her eyes and laughed. She didn’t recognize herself.
Valiant and Lady Yates returned just then and Reddington, with unshed tears in his own eyes, excused himself to return to his hosting duties.
The women made their way to the ballroom, and Beatrix was nearly brought to tears again. The atmosphere was brilliant. Couples walked the perimeter around the dancers that filled the floor. The violin concerto played a magical tune that made Beatrix feel as though she could float on air and far beyond the heavens. It was sweet, gentle, and enchanting.
It would have been her parents’ greatest hope to see her at such an event. Though poor, they’d often spoken of the day when Beatrix would finally come out and dreamed of the husband she would find in her first Season.
They’d have smiled if they were here.
She dashed both her thoughts and the tear that fell away before following Valiant to the other side of the ballroom.
Lady Yates was quickly swept away by a gentleman who wished to dance and no less than a moment later, Mr. Carey presented himself to Beatrix and they lined up with the others for the opening minuet.
Beatrix smiled at the handsome Mr. Carey. He was just over her height with a warm smile and even warmer brown eyes. His was dark and shined in the light of the chandeliers overhead.
The music went silent and then, a moment later, began again.
And Beatrix took the first steps of her first Society dance.
* * *
Hero didn’t pretend he wasn’t watching Beatrix. After all, what was the point, when it was clear that many of the ton were watching her.
He’d met a few people earlier who’d claimed to have known her father. While a few had described him as an eccentric, one gentleman had boldly called the former Lord Dalewell a fool.
There’d been a circle of gentlemen who’d known the family’s past financial dealings, but all seemed to be glad for Beatrix and the clever aunt who’d stowed money away for her.
And tonight, she’d proven herself to be every bit the lady that her blood claimed her to be.
She’d danced the minuet without flaw and then Hero had watched as she’d moved with Mr. Carey over to the refreshment room.
Hero knew Carey’s family. They had money, but Carey was the third son to an earldom and unless two of his brothers suddenly perished, he would be forced to work if he didn’t marry well.
Mr. Carey was very popular with both men and women and known to be very selective about who he danced with. He had been a good choice for Beatrix’s first dance partner. It would be another way for Beatrix to break into exclusive circles.
Beatrix’s face broke into clear amusement at something the young gentleman said and then Mr. Carey listened to her response and laughed himself.
She was having a good time and seemed to be happy.
So why did Hero feel the need to pummel Mr. Carey’s face in until it was unrecognizable?
Hero fisted his hands.
“Do you approve?” Valiant said as she came to stand by him.
He looked at her and then at Beatrix once more. He relaxed his hands. “She seems to be getting on well.”
“I would think so,” Valiant said. “Though I’m sure that if you asked her to dance, it would make her night.”
He turned sharply
to his sister again and felt his heart climb into his throat. “What makes you say so?”
Valiant shrugged. She looked very smart in her dark green costume and worked a matching fan with white lace gloves. “You are her friend, after all. And a general. Why would she not wish for you to ask her?”
Because I embarrassed us both when I asked to share an ice with her.
That moment had haunted him relentlessly all week. He’d even begun to write a letter of apology to be sent to her house but never got the nerve to complete it. He only prayed the distressing moment would soon be forgotten by both parties.
“Go ask her before someone else does,” Valiant said. “If she sees you here and realizes you didn’t ask, she’ll be hurt. This was your idea, after all. If you don’t believe her a good partner, then the entire event is a waste.”
“You think so?” He’d not thought of it that way. “But she’s already gained the approval of half the ton and the patroness at Almack’s.” What did she need him for anymore?
She didn’t, for if she had needed him, she’d have sent word that she did.
“Where have you been all week?” Valiant asked.
“Looking for Hatcher.”
“Hero, this is your leave. I know the dog is important to our father, but you must take time to relax.”
“I am relaxing,” he countered. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You’re here because you have to be here.” Valiant looked around. “Where are Asher and Lore?”
“Lore is off scouting for women, I’m sure.” Hero pointed to Asher in another corner of the room. He stood so straight he nearly looked like one of the pillars from the foyer.
His position didn’t invite conversation, and no one said more than a word of formal acknowledgment to him as they passed.
“Oh, look, Bee has spotted us.” Valiant waved her over.
Hero took a breath and turned to Beatrix as she approached.
Somehow, she’d managed to pull herself away from the group that had formed around Mr. Carey.
She curtsied. “Lord Hero.”
Hero bowed over her hand. He didn’t want to embarrass himself again, but Beatrix made him feel green where women were concerned. With her, he didn’t know what to say or do.
The Perfect Lady (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 8
