Page 13 of On a Midsummer Night
He said more than he’d intended. Henry knew it the moment Beth went still as a statue, her sable eyes growing wide.
“Scandal? What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head and taking a step backwards. The bookshelf shuddered behind him, and suddenly he felt boxed in. His gaze darted frantically about, looking for an escape.
Her hand clamped his arm, and he blinked down at it before raising his gaze to Beth’s tenacious one. “It does matter, Henry. Shouldn’t my cousin’s good name matter to you if you intend to marry her?”
His chest expanded with an exhale. “Of course it does. But she would already be my wife if the scandal were to break.”
“Henry Ramsgate,” she whispered, her tone both dismayed and exasperated, “I would never have guessed you’d be so selfish.”
“Selfish?” he hissed. Striding forward again, he lowered his head until his gaze was level with hers. “EverythingI have done for the past three years has been to atone for the past. To create a safety net for my mother and sister. To protect my reputation, even when my family name deserves no protection. I court your cousin now to ensure the career I love and the success I’ve earned will not suffer. I have no wish or desire to hurt her or cause scandal to fall upon her. But if that happens, I will protect her, as a good husband would.”
“You shouldn’t marry her in the first place. Lucy deserves someone who loves her. Who wants to marry her for who she is and not what she brings to the marriage.”
“And I could say the same for myself—but we don’t always get what we want in this life, do we?”
Beth’s shoulders sank. “I don’t know what’s happened to create this jaded and bitter version of you, but please don’t make my cousin a part of it.”
“Whatever you think of my attitude, you know I will treat Lucy like a queen.” Moving into the main aisle, he bowed his head. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must pay my regards to your cousin.”
And with that salvo, he walked away, doing his best to focus his attention on the young woman he spied sorting through a stack of books and not on the one whose dark eyes held so much disappointment in him.
* * *
Their soft laughter echoed throughout the bookshelves.
Beth stood at the end of the aisle where Lucy chatted with Henry, far enough away not to hear every word of their conversation but close enough to see the hint of a smile teasing Henry’s lips and the blush tingeing her cousin’s cheeks in response. The urge to walk away caused her legs to twitch, but Beth stayed nearby for propriety’s sake.
But oh, how the scene before her lanced across her skin.
He’d said he would treat Lucy like a queen, and Beth believed him. Despite the ways in which Henry had hardened in their years apart, Beth knew he was still respectful and courteous. Yet . . . when he eventually kissed Lucy, would he moan in the back of his throat as he did when his lips touched hers? Would he gather her to his chest, his hands snaking along her spine to grasp her hips, his palms scalding her with every touch?
Beth’s chin quivered as she struggled to maintain her composure, pivoting about until the couple was only visible from the corner of her eye. Still, she was aware Henry had his arm perched on a bookshelf, one leg propped in front of the other, as handsome and tempting as the most indulgent sin. It was little wonder why Lucy was so flustered in his presence. But was he as overwhelmed by her?
“Beth, Mr. Ramsgate has offered to escort us to Dalton House,” Lucy said as she came to stand before her.
“How very kind of him,” Beth murmured, doing her best not to meet Henry’s eyes.
She held her silence as Lucy purchased several books, waiting awkwardly outside the shop for her cousin to appear. Initially, she had intended to stand inside the door, but Henry was waiting for Lucy as well, his hands behind his waist and his towering height and somber demeanor lending him the perfect aura of a sentry. The sight made her heart lurch.
But not so much as it did now as she walked behind the pair on their way back to Dalton House. To anyone passing by or who spied them from their drawing room window, Henry and Lucy appeared a respectable couple enjoying the pleasant weather, yet the fact that they appeared a couple at all had tears scalding Beth’s throat. And what an attractive pair they were, with his dark, striking looks and her golden beauty. They would have the most beautiful babies, and Beth almost choked on a sob at the thought.
Thankfully, the walk to Dalton House was not long, and when they arrived, Beth rushed up the steps, hurriedly passing her shawl and bonnet to the butler. Stepping into the dim interior of the foyer, she observed Henry wish Lucy goodbye. He was all that was proper, but when he asked to take her on a curricle ride through the park the following day, Beth had to look away.
“Good day, Miss Dalton,” he called then, drawing her reluctant gaze.
Henry held her eyes for a passing moment before he turned and left, but the steel she saw there had her making excuses of a megrim and escaping to her chamber for a good cry.
Chapter Five
“Your courtship with Mr. Ramsgate appears to be going well,” Uncle Charles declared as he sipped from his glass of claret.
Lucy tensed, her gaze darting from her plate of roast beef and root vegetables to her father at the end of the table. “He’s been charming and attentive.”
“He’s taken Lucy to an exhibit at the museum, to get ices at Gunter’s, and even danced two sets with her at the Manning soiree.” Aunt Meredith beamed a bright grin at her daughter. “Surely, we can expect a marriage proposal before the season’s end, if not sooner.”
Henry would propose sooner. Beth knew it in the marrow of her bones. Having to stay by Lucy’s side as he courted her had been a particular kind of torture. One she was surprised medieval executioners had not added to their arsenal.
