“Benedict...” Beatrix began.
Benedict let her go and stood. And suddenly, he greatly reminded her of the brother she’d last seen at their family seat. No longer was she speaking to Bennie, but a man who held all the authority of the Earl of Dalewell.
“Men have questioned why I was not here during your first Season,” her brother began. “They’ll not have that question anymore. You are Lady Gillingham, sister to the Earl of Dalewell, and I plan to make sure that everyone knows you have a protector. I already plan to pay Lord Beaumont the rest of the rent for the month until a wedding between you and Anthony can be planned. Until then, we will simply continue to pretend that we’d been renting it from him all along as opposed to him gifting it to his mistress.”
At those words, she noticed servants moving in the hall, bringing in trunks. Her brother was moving in.
“I’m not his mistress!” Beatrix was on her feet now. “Beaumont has given me no money.”
“Then how do you pay for this place when I have heard from many lords that Beaumont never rents it out?” Benedict’s face filled with rage. “Tell me, Beatrix, and I’ll have the truth from you.”
She stared at him. “I am his wife’s friend.”
Her brother scoffed. “Friend or not, you can’t afford this place.”
“If I were Beaumont’s whore, why would he give me a dowry? It makes no sense.”
Her brother narrowed his eyes and scratched his chin. “That seems true, but you’ve yet to explain where the money has come from.”
“I don’t need to explain. I am twenty and five. I may do as I please!”
He shook his head. “I see nothing has changed with you. It is still always about you, isn’t it? You’ve no loyalty whatsoever to this family. While I continue to make sacrifices, you give nothing.”
His words struck her at the core and set off a tremble deep within. “No,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
“Yes!” He seemed to see the weakness in her and sprung on it. “I married a woman I could barely look at in order to restore this family.”
She gasped and pressed a hand to her chest, horrified that her brother would speak about his deceased wife this way. He was clearly upset though she didn’t understand why. “Benedict, if Anthony has paid off father’s debt, why must I marry him?”
“In gratitude, of course,” he said. “Anthony wants no one but you.”
Gratitude?
Again, she felt conflicted, unsure of what was the right thing to do. Then she decided to speak the truth. “I’m engaged.”
“To whom?” he asked.
“The general. Lord Hero.”
Her brother took a step back. His eyes flashed. “The general? He’s proposed? Why did he not tell me? Why has he not asked me for your hand? Has it been announced? It hasn’t, has it? Good. Then there is no reason it can’t simply be broken. You must marry Anthony.”
“No.” She stood. “I’ve promised myself to Lord Hero. I shall marry him. I love him.” She pleaded with her brother to understand.
Benedict crossed his arms and sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but if you don’t marry Anthony, there will be a scandal.”
Her knees gave way and she fell to the seat again. “What scandal? What did you do?”
“Not me. Father! I’m sure you’ve wondered what happened between him and Lord Reddington.” He lifted a brow and waited.
∫ ∫ ∫
3 9
Beatrix’s stomach turned. “I’ve wondered what happened between Father and Lord Reddington, but I readily assumed Father had borrowed money and—”
“He didn’t borrow the money, Beatrix.” Her brother knelt before her and took her hands. He lowered his voice. “Father stole it.”
“No.” She could not bear it. She tried to take her hands back.
He made his hold firmer. “He stole a great sum. Nearly half the man’s fortune and then he wasted it.”
“No.” Tears began to burn her eyes. She recalled Reddington’s words. He’d made it all but clear he’d yet to forgive their father for what he’d done, but he didn’t blame Beatrix because she was a woman and had been an innocent child at the time.
“Our father was a criminal,” her brother went on. “That’s why he walked out that day to never return. It is why he didn’t come to Father’s funeral. Our father betrayed one of his only friends. He was a thief. A fraud.”
“Benedict, please.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She was desperate for silence.
“Do you know how I found out?” Benedict asked. “Father told me himself before he died. He’d tried to make amends with Reddington, but the duke no longer trusted him.”
“No more.” She tried to turn away.
“You’re twenty and five,” he mocked. “It’s time you knew what sort of man bore you, whose blood runs through our veins.”
She was tainted. She wept harder.
“How long do you think it before the man tells Lord Hero or even Lord Ayers?” her brother asked. “You can’t marry the general, Trixie.”
“No.” Her heart was breaking. Just when she’d begun to hope, it all fell away once more. She felt like a fool for ever believing. A complete fool.
Her love. Hero. She could never have him. He’d never been for her.
Deep inside, she’d known him to be too perfect for her. If he found this out, he would know it as well.
Snatching her hands away. she buried her face in her palms. Grief tore at her body. She shook. She couldn’t bear for Hero to know. “Why hasn’t Reddington said anything?”
“I was paying the debt, but every day brings me closer to where I began. Soon, I’ll be impoverished once more. It’s as though our family is cursed.”
Beatrix agreed, for she was surely cursed.
“I thought there was no hope,” her brother went on. “But then I read about you in the paper, about your ball at the Duke of Ayers’ mansion. It was fate, Beatrix. Fate led me to you just in time.” He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “Anthony will pay it for you, Beatrix. He will pay the debt in full. For you. He’s a good man.”
A violent man.
Anthony had killed his own father and gotten away with it. The lords of Parliament had let him go. What chance did Beatrix have of surviving?
“There has to be another way,” she whispered.
“There is no other way that guarantees discretion,” her brother said.
She could ask Hero for the money but that would mean telling him the truth and shaming herself further in his eyes. Everyone had their limit and surely Hero had reached his. She wasn’t worth all this trouble.
Another thought struck her. She stared at her brother. “What happens to you if Reddington’s debt is not paid in full?”
He gave her a sheepish smile.
She knew the answer and touched his cheek. “Prison?”
He looked away. “I didn’t want to burden you with that truth but...”
“I’ll marry him.” She’d let her brother down once. She couldn’t do it again. As he’d said, she’d allowed her brother to carry the weight of the family all his life. It wasn’t fair. This way, she had a chance to restore her honor.
Benedict took her hands and kissed them. “Anthony will be good to you, Beatrix. He’s changed. Trust me, I would never put you in harm’s way.”
It no longer mattered to her. No physical pain could possibly feel worse than her heart breaking. She didn’t even find death as unappealing as she had moments ago.
But she couldn’t die. She had to keep her brother out of prison and the only way to do so was to marry the Duke of Cartell.
She suddenly wished for her life at the tavern again. If only she’d left Hero to someone’s else care. If only she’d not taken him to her bed where Thump could find him. If only she’d refused him when he’d come to her apartments in Westminster.
There were so many ‘what ifs’.
Yet she’d learned long ago that
the sweetest dreams would never come true for her. Her destiny had never been bright.
That realization helped her to stop weeping. The tears soon ran out. Her breathing calmed, and her chest no longer labored for air. Her heartbeat quickly returned to its normal state and then Beatrix felt nothing.
The nothing felt good compared to the heartbreak.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 0
“I would like to see her,” Hero said with a quietness he was far from feeling.
Benedict Gillingham rested on the couch before him in Beatrix’s terrace and innocently spread his hands to the drawing room. “And as I said before, she is not here.”
It was the same story the earl had told Hero yesterday. The day before that and into the rest of the week, Beatrix had been proclaimed too ill for visitors. Yet though she was now recovering from whatever ailment her brother claimed her to have—and just in time for tomorrow’s ball—he was still unable to see her.
He’d not seen Beatrix in six days and neither had he heard from her.
He was starting to wonder if perhaps Benedict had done something to her and that worry was growing.
Benedict leaned forward and picked up a cup from the tea tray. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Hero wanted to strangle the man but knew he could not. Benedict was an earl and offending a titled gentleman, in the eyes of the ton, was a great wrong. He could be arrested if he didn’t tread carefully.
Since the house was rented out to Beatrix, it was technically her brother’s as well until she married.
Yet while Hero had seen Dalewell every day for the last seven days, he’d not seen Beatrix once.
And neither had Valiant.
His sister stood at his side, her own worry evident even behind her smile. She’d come at her own insistence, likely fearing that Hero would grow violent if he didn’t get what he wanted.
And Hero was approaching the end of his patience.
He’d sworn to Beatrix that all would be well, yet so far was not keeping his word. She could be anywhere in the house, locked away. “We only wish to see if she’s all right.”
The earl frowned and held his cup to his lips. His eyes were so much like Beatrix’s it was unnerving. “Why would anything be the matter with my sister? I am her brother. I know how to care for my sister.”
“Do you?” Hero asked, recalling how the man had tossed his sister from their estate and left her to the fate of the world, depending on the kindness of others when there was so little of that to be found in London.
He was clearly offended that Hero thought otherwise, but Hero had already decided that he cared little for the man. Hero didn’t even care what society thought. The only person who mattered to him was Beatrix and until he knew otherwise, he’d allow her brother to continue breathing.
Hero had never actually been a violent man, but he knew violence.
It was no great feat to think of the many ways he could dismember the earl.
In France and beyond, he’d shed blood alongside his countrymen, yet there was part of him that was starting to see Benedict as the enemy and this very room the battlefield.
“What did you say?” Benedict asked.
Hero released a growl.
Benedict narrowed his eyes, unaware of just how close he was to danger. “How dare you—”
“My lord,” Valiant cut in and grabbed Hero’s arm right when he took a step.
Benedict jumped, and his eyes flashed with more than a little fear as he gazed at Hero. But slowly he settled.
Valiant cleared her throat to regain his attention. “What my brother means is that I’ve been preparing Beatrix for the ball for many weeks now. She’ll need a woman’s guidance for tomorrow and I am her guide.”
Benedict seemed to consider this and then shook his head and smiled. “Beatrix has been in London for what? Six weeks? I’m sure she’s gained everything of value she could from you in that amount of time. She will be at the ball. I will escort her, and I must thank you greatly for your aid during this time.”
Hero tensed, and his eyes widened. The man was hindering his sister from seeing her friend?
Valiant stiffened, surprised as well. “My lord.” She didn’t know what to say.
Benedict cut her off with a wave of his hand, his grin tight. “The butler will see you to the carriage.”
Hero spun around and walked out of the sitting room.
But he didn’t start for the door. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time.
“Hero!” Valiant called.
“General!” Benedict was at the bottom of the stairs. “How dare you! This is not your home.”
Hero stopped at the top and turned to the man. “It’s not, but it is my sister’s home, so legally you can’t remove us.” Then he spun back around and started searching for her room.
He heard Benedict’s shouting and his feet hitting the stairs as he neared.
No room was sacred enough to keep him from her. Hero threw every door open.
“Lord Hero! That is quite enough! How dare you.” Benedict touched his shoulder.
In a blink, the man was thrown against the other side of the corridor. A loud clatter of something falling to the ground and a resonating thump rang through the hall as Benedict’s head hit the wall. Hero had the earl’s throat in his hand and lifted, forcing his enemy onto his toes.
Benedict gripped Hero’s hand with both of his and tried to pry it away. His eyes were wild as he gasped, fighting for air.
The fear settled some of Hero’s anger, but he’d not rest until he saw Beatrix.
“Where is she!” he bellowed.
“Hero!” Valiant grabbed his arm. “Let him go, Hero! You’re killing him!”
Benedict’s face had become a bright red and was slowly fading into purple.
Tears built in the earl’s eyes.
But Hero was past showing any mercy. “Where is she!”
“Hero,” cried another voice from a distance.
He turned and found Beatrix rushing down the hall.
He let Benedict go, discarding him as nothing more than trash as he moved to Beatrix.
When she neared, her eyes moved to her brother and she passed him.
But he turned, swept her up into his arms, and before he could think, crushed his mouth to hers.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 1
Beatrix was momentarily stunned by Hero’s kiss and the pressure with which he held her in his arms. He was crushing her to him, his strong body all but engulfing her, cocooning her in muscle and heat.
Without a second thought, she relaxed and gave in to him. His touch was like bread and she felt famished for him. He growled, and she trembled as the sound vibrated past her lips and to her toes.
She shivered when what sounded like, “Mine,” escaped his mouth.
Though she’d been unable to make out words from her room, she’d heard the arguing, but it was the banging that had forced her from her room. Her brother had told her it would be best to remain hidden until the ball, but at the fear of someone being hurt, she’d left her rooms.
And now she was here, the last place she’d thought she’d be, doing the very last thing she’d thought to ever do again.
His lips roamed her cheeks, her eyes, nose. No part of her face was left untouched and then he had her mouth again.
“Yes,” she whispered.
It was pure heaven to be in his arms. It was a feeling she thought to never have again. He’d become essential to her happiness. Realizing her need for him bought burning tears to her eyes.
She didn’t want him to let her go. She wanted to beg him not to.
He was possessive. His hands touched her everywhere as though to familiarize himself with her once more, as though he were making sure she was real.
A week without him had been an eternity. She’d thought she’d never cry again. She’d thought she’d never feel again, yet a dam had been broken within her. Love rushed to the surface
.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Yes. I love you,” she replied, peppering his face with kisses just as he’d done her.
He picked her up and brought her impossibly closer.
From somewhere outside Hero’s embrace, she heard shouting.
“Beatrix!”
She jumped and tried to spin around, but Hero wouldn’t let her go. His mouth stayed on her even with her face averted. She felt his lips on her cheeks and throat. She tried to push away, but he would not relent.
So she clung to him instead and begged her brother with her eyes.
Don’t take him away from me. Can’t you see how happy we are together?
The look of pure pain that crossed Benedict’s face was like a blade to her heart. He still sat on the floor with his hands at his throat. Betrayal was written in his face.
It dissolved all her happiness and brought reason to her mind.
She fought harder against Hero. “Let me go,” she whispered to him. “Please, you must let me go.”
He grunted his reply and buried his face against her throat. His arms tightened.
Beatrix choked back a sob.
Valiant came over then. She had tears in her eyes as she placed her hands on Hero’s arm. “Hero, you have to let her go. Lord Dalewell has threatened to call the authorities. You can get in trouble for touching his sister especially when… she has been promised to another.”
Beatrix inhaled sharply. She’d not heard her brother say any of that. Had Hero?
If he had, it didn’t seem like he cared.
If he were arrested, it would bring shame to him and his family.
Beatrix could not be the cause of that.
She wanted to fall through the floor and deep within the Earth. She’d been right. Death was nothing compared to a future without Hero.
She cupped his face and forced his eyes on hers.
The pain in his visage broke her heart.
She caressed his cheeks gently and whispered, “You have to let me go, Hero.”
The Perfect Lady (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 20
