Page 75 of Hazard a Guest
She didn’t, of course. Not yet, anyhow. But it was enough of a distraction to get Ember back out of the room and into the corridor.
She’d written to Beck three times before getting it right. The first one had sounded like a taunt from a crazed ripper. The second had sounded like an attempted seduction. The third … well, Ember wasn’t a writer.
She never claimed she was a writer.
He would come, though. He’d told Merryn he’d come.
She watched the grandfather clock in the hallway until it was two minutes past the agreed-upon time and then made her way to the conservatory. This time, she was expecting him to be there, at least. This time she wasn’t surprised.
He was, however.
Thaddeus Beck was seated on the bench in front of the first Lord Penrose, running his fingertips over the rim of a calla lily, apparently deep in thought. His head turned at the sound of her footfalls, and in rapid succession she saw hope, gentleness, surprise, and then, ultimately, disappointment. All of it flashedover his usually expressionless face before he could think to hide it, to force his features back under control.
Until, of course, he did.
“Miss Donnelly?” he said, gruff until he cleared his throat and craned his neck to the side, clearly impatient to regain the typical velvet in his tone.
“Afraid so, Beck,” she said with a lift of her chin. “Don’t get up. It was me that sent the note.”
He had started to lift himself and aborted the effort at her words, landing with a delicate thump back on the stone of the bench. “Oh.”
She shook her head, crossing the room and sitting opposite him on the bench, the smell of lilies, cloying and sweet, stirring up from the earth behind it. “Honest to God, I didn’t mean to mislead you, but I see now how it might’ve seemed the message was from Hannah, not me. You have my apologies for that.”
“Your …?” His brow lowered, casting a shadow over those deep-set black eyes. “Your apologies?” he repeated, all the softness scraped out of the hollows of his voice.
“Indeed. I wanted to talk, not to torment you. We have many things to talk about, after all.”
“Do we, in fact?”
She nodded emphatically, pulling the folio into her lap and flipping it open. The leather slapped lightly on her thighs, keeping her grounded, keeping her in place.
This time, she would not be paralyzed. God help her, she would never let anyone paralyze her ever again.
“Freddy isn’t going to say anything about your little fisticuffs,” she said briskly, inhaling the scent of ink and parchment. “You needn’t worry about that. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if he sent you an engraved thank-you letter some months from now, complete with an elaborate illustration of his interpretation of the event.”
Beck continued to stare, looking truly baffled.
It pleased her. She started to smile and then forced it down. It would not do to taunt or spook the lad.
“To be frank with you, Thaddeus—might I call you Thaddeus?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, fishing out a handwritten note from her stack of documents and dropping it into his lap. “I’m not sure where to start. I have many things here to get through. I suppose I should start with Hannah, however, as she is the subject of the accidental falsehood that began this encounter. This was under our door this morning.”
He raised a single dark brow but lifted the document, holding it a distance from his face as his eyes adjusted to it, pupils flaring almost imperceptibly in those dark eyes. “What is this?”
“A letter from Mr. Woodville,” Ember told him. “An apology. A genuine one, I think.”
He scoffed, cynicism bouncing off the glass plates that made up the conservatory walls.
“Yes, perhaps you’re right,” she said with a little chuckle. “Regardless, the backlash has made him contrite in the action, if not the intent.”
“Isn’t that always the way?” Beck muttered, reading through each narrow line even so.
“You know,” she said to him evenly as she waited for him to read, “my da is a bit longsighted as well.”
“He’s what?” Beck peered up at her, his brow furrowed.
“Long… Mr. Beck, you need spectacles.”
His gaze narrowed, snapping into hers with furious precision. “Spectacles?”
