Page 17 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
“I will not swoon just to get a man to help me up,” Beatrice shot back, her frustration bubbling over.
Her mother’s grip tightened painfully around her arm. “Do you understand what is at stake here?” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “Our future depends on you making a good match. You cannot afford to be so proud.”
Beatrice’s heart sank, her mother’s words cutting deeply. She felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of her family’s expectations. The sharpness of her mother’s grip and the intensity of her scolding left her feeling small and powerless.
“I am trying, Mother,” she whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “I am doing my best.”
Prudence released her arm but continued to glare at her. “Your best is not enough. You need to do more.”
Beatrice nodded silently, the joy of her small victory now completely overshadowed by the heaviness in her heart. She felt the sting of tears but blinked them back, refusing to let her mother see her cry.
As they walked back towards the house, Beatrice could not shake the feeling of inadequacy that clung to her. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of the pressure she was under.
She glanced back at the lawn where she had scored the winning point, wishing she could hold on to that fleeting moment of happiness.
But reality was unforgiving, and she knew she had to continue playing the part, no matter how much it hurt inside.
Kenneth strode through the dimly lit hallway, his mind preoccupied with the events of the day.
The Pall Mall game had been an unexpected source of amusement, particularly Lady Beatrice’s determination despite her lack of skill. Her spirit was refreshing, a stark contrast to the simpering ladies who usually sought his attention.
His thoughts also drifted to Lady Featherwell’s rather dramatic swoon during the game. It was clear to him that her collapse was nothing more than a ploy to capture his attention and sympathy. He had seen such tactics employed by many ladies in the past, and it only served to fuel his growing disinterest in their shallow pursuits.
Lost in thought, he barely noticed a figure rounding the corner until they collided. Instinctively, his hands reached out to steady the person, and he found himself staring into the startled blue eyes of Lady Beatrice.
“Your Grace,” she gasped, her hands grasping his arms for balance. “I apologize. I didn’t see you.”
Kenneth’s lips curved into a smirk. “It seems we have a habit of running into each other, Lady Beatrice.”
She blushed, the color rising in her cheeks. “So it would seem.”
It was the first time they were alone since the night they met, and Kenneth did not realize how quickly desire kicked into him, how desperately he wanted to feel her body against his.
He didn’t release her immediately, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Her warmth seeped through the layers of his clothing, and he caught the faint scent of flowers that seemed to follow her everywhere.
“I must say, I was impressed by your determination on the Pall Mall field today,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Even amidst the… challenging conditions.”
Beatrice’s brow furrowed slightly. “Challenging? Oh, you mean Lady Featherwell’s fainting spell during the game?”
Kenneth nodded, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Yes, her timing was rather impeccable, wasn’t it?”
She sighed, “Still, I do hope she is all right. That sudden collapse of hers was quite alarming.”
“Indeed,” he murmured, his gaze drifting to her lips. “Though I must admit, I suspect her collapse was more theatrics than ailment.”
Beatrice looked up at him, “Oh. You believe she was pretending?”
“Surely you deduced that too, no?”
She glanced away as though she did not want to show that she had guessed what the widow had been up to.
“I prefer not venture into the realm of assumptions,” she responded.
Kenneth’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Very astute of you, Lady Beatrice. Either way, it is safe to say that I’ve seen enough of Lady Featherwell’s performances to recognize when she’s putting on a show.”
“Oh. I see,” she replied.
Distracted by the pretty curve of her lips, Kenneth did not notice that they’d fallen into a soft silence.
