Page 54 of A Widow for the Earl
“Well, dear Trixie, you are annoyingly beautiful ineverykind of light,” Frederick said, as he took hold of her hand and placed a kiss upon her glove. “It is incredibly discourteous, making us all feel inferior.”
“Oh, hush,” she scolded with a laugh. “That is not at all true. If this were an ordinary ball, therewouldbe gasps, but it would have nothing to do with my appearance.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Society does not deserve you anyway, Trixie. You have always been too good for them.”
“I rather think that society is just notrightfor me,” she countered. “It never was, really. I made the best of it, but since Ihave been at Wycliffe, I have found that I do not miss it at all. I miss my friends, of course, but I can survive rather well without the rest.”
He smiled. “You do not miss the dancing?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted, smiling back at him. “But I have fashioned a rather splendid partner from a broom and an old tailcoat, and he does not ask me inane questions or make demands of me. True, I might seem quite mad, but he is an excellent dancing partner. He never treads upon my toes, either.”
Frederick chuckled, elbowing her lightly in the ribs. “Well, if you should ever tire of Lord Broom of Scrubton, do summon me. I would be more than happy to be his substitute for a dance.”
“Well, about that,” she said, her tone hardening a little. “Iwouldinvite you to Wycliffe if you would ever respond to your letters! I do believe you are getting worse as the years pass.”
He cringed. “Forgive me, Trixie. I have not been at my family estate to receive any letters. I have been making a nuisance of myself in the homes of my schoolfriends, squeezing the last drop of merriment out of the summer. Thanks to my brother and his desire to hunt in the Highlands, I did not have the opportunity to visit them all until now.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Very well, you are forgiven, but when autumn comes, I shall expect prompt and continual correspondence from you.”
“I swear it,” he replied, his hand to his heart.
Just then, a shadow fell across the pair, the temperature in the room seeming to drop.
Vincent had returned.
“Alas, I believe the port is calling to me,” Frederick said, flashing a cold smile at Vincent as he waved his empty glass. “We should play at cards later, Trixie. See if I cannot beat you at last.”
Beatrice nodded, annoyed that Vincent could not at least pretend to be civil with her friend. “Certainly, Freddie, though I would not raise your hopes too high. It is habit, at this point, for you to receive a trouncing.”
“Indeed it is.” Frederick bowed his head to Beatrice, and made himself scarce, heading over to the liquor table to refill his glass.
At her side, Vincent opened his mouth to speak, but she raised her hand before a single word could leave his lips.
“If you will excuse me, Lord Grayling, I must powder my nose.” She breezed past him and walked out into the hallway, looking left and right with some anxiety.
The castle was enormous, every identical corridor disorienting without Teresa or Cyrus to act as a guide, but she knew she needed to get away from the festivities for a moment. Deciding that the right-hand hallway looked more welcoming, she strodeonward, uncertain of where it might lead. And not really caring, either, so long as it did not take her back to the Lesser Hall before she was ready to return.
She fumed silently as she made her way down the corridor, wondering why Vincent had bothered to come at all if he was not going to be social. She was not like him; she did not want to stick to the periphery, uninvolved and aloof. She wanted to spend time with her friends:allof her friends, even the ones that Vincent did not approve of.
And what right does he have to judge that anyway? He does not know me. He does not know my history with Freddie.
Even if she were to tell Vincent, she doubted it would alter his opinion. He had his staunch beliefs that men and women could not be friends, after all.
Spotting a half-open door, where warm, amber light spilled out, Beatrice could not resist her curiosity. She poked her head inside, her eyes widening at the glorious sight of a magnificent library: three tiers filled to the brim with bookcases, with staircases leading up to each mezzanine floor. Through the ornate balustrades, Beatrice noted cozy alcoves populated by armchairs or desks.
Ah, so this is why you really married him, Tessie.She chuckled, trying to imagine Teresa’s face the first time she saw this library. The woman must have been beside herself with glee.
Stepping further into the vast room, struggling to comprehend the absolute majesty of it, she had no doubt that she had stumbled upon the perfect sanctuary. A place to catch her breath and gather her thoughts before she found her way back to the others.
“You should not be exploring this castle alone,” an unwelcome voice interrupted. “It is difficult enough to remember one’s way in the daylight; you can get lost without realizing it.”
Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut, the last fragment of her patience shattering. “Andyoushould not be creeping up on a lady who is alone. You should not be following a lady who is alone. Indeed, if I have chosen to wander off by myself, do you not think there might be a reason?”
Vincent took a few steps forward, clearing his throat. “I am only here to ensure you do not get lost.”
“But I have not asked you to,” she replied tersely, opening her eyes. “In truth, I have not the faintest idea of why you have been… suffocating me all evening. I do not need a shadow, Vincent.”
Uncertainty creased the corners of his eyes. “I guided you into the drawing room. Therefore, it is my duty to stay close to you.”
