Page 26 of Mr. Notorious and the Nefarious November

He told her all about the museums and monuments he’d visited on the Continent. If she was surprised he had done more than visit brothels, she made certain not to show it. He asked about all the plays she’d seen in London and what his nieces and nephews had been like as they were growing up. He seemed to regret not having been present for most of their childhoods.

She might have reminded him that he still had young nieces and nephews, and he could be present for them. But that would lead them back to the conversation about trust and tests and the Nefarious Scheme she’d concocted and now didn’t know whether she should continue or not.

She didn’t want to tempt him further, didn’t want to think of another woman seducing him—even if that woman failed. She wanted him to want her not because some other woman had aroused him, but because he couldn’t stand not to have Beatrice. She’d thought about asking him if they could simply become lovers. She was a widow. Most of Society would look the other way if she took a lover. Unfortunately, Mr. Notorious had the sort of reputation that meant they couldn’t hope to keep an affair quiet. She either married him or sullied her own reputation. The last thing her poor sister and the rest of the Notley family needed was more scandal.

Even if she was willing to endure the scandal, she knew Munro well enough to know that he wouldn’t accept any alternative to marriage. He’d been a rake and seemed to want no part in that lifestyle any longer. He wanted her love, wanted her to be his wife. He’d asked her twice now—once seven years ago and now again. He would not ask again, and a man had his pride. He’d leave again if she refused, and then she’d never see him again.

Unless he returned with a French or Italian or…Hungarian wife on his arm

As much as that thought frightened her, she was equally terrified to tie herself to another man who might break her heart or make a fool of her.

“Is that you, Beatrice?” Judith called from the parlor just off the foyer.

“Yes.”

The door opened, and Judith peeked out. “Where have you been? I need your help. Lavinia and I are trying to make place cards, and neither of us has the beautiful hand you do. Will you help us?”

“Of course.” Beatrice handed her coat and hat to the butler and stepped into the parlor. The entire room looked as thoughit had been overrun with fabric samples, flowers, and boxes of wedding presents. Lavinia sat at a table that had been cleared so the ladies might write the place cards for the wedding breakfast, and she looked as though she might cry any moment.

“Help me,” she mouthed to Beatrice.

Beatrice nodded. “Judith, why don’t you and I handle the place cards? Lavinia needs her rest. The wedding is tomorrow. She should be enjoying her last days at home.”

Lavinia jumped up. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’ll just retire to my room.”

When she was gone, Beatrice took her place and Judith joined her. “I’m rather glad we have a moment to speak privately. I’ve been worried about you, Bea.”

“Still playing the role of big sister, even when I’m seven and twenty?”

“I can’t help it, especially when you’ve been spending so much time with Munro.”

Beatrice sighed. She had known this conversation loomed. “Judith, I know Mama died when I was young, and you really were more of a mother to me than a sister. I’ve always valued your advice, but I don’t need it when it comes to Munro.”

“You blame me, don’t you? You still blame me.”

“I don’t blame you, and I never did. I made my own decision. I chose Solomon.”

“After I pushed you to choose him. How was I to know he was as bad as Munro—worse, even?”

“No one knew. Munro tried to tell me, and I wish I had believed him.”

“I convinced you he was lying, that he’d say anything to have you. Beatrice, I haven’t changed my mind about that or about him.”

“I know.” She put her hand over Judith’s. “And I know you want what’s best for me, but I do think Munro has changed. And I do think if I’d married him, he would have been faithful.”

“Then you believe he left for the Continent because he was mourning the loss of you? Everyone else says he bedded every woman from Calais to Calcutta.”

“I know what he tells me, and I know I have no reason not to trust him. I also know…” She swallowed because she hadn’t told Judith this. “He still wants to marry me.”

Judith’s hand tightened on hers. “Beatrice, no! Don’t even consider it.”

“He asked me the first night he saw me. He was drunk, of course, but the proposal was sincere. He has since reiterated it. He says…he says he never stopped wanting to marry me.”

“I cannot condone a union with him. I saw how much Solomon hurt you. I don’t want that to happen again. And it would be worse this time because you’ve always cared so much more for Munro than you ever did for Solomon.”

“And that’s the hardest part about all of it. I have to trust him or lose him forever, and both options seem impossible at the moment.”

The morning of Lavinia’s wedding dawned gray and wet. Munro parted the curtains in his chamber and stared out at the steady fall of rain. Lavinia would be disappointed, and Judith would be frantic at the idea that her daughter’s dress might become wet in transit to the church. He decided then it would be a good idea to avoid all the ladies in the household and stay in his chamber until it was time to depart.

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