Page 26 of On a Midsummer Night
“What are you going to do?” The dim lighting hid his expression, but Beth didn’t need to see his face to understand what he meant.
Sighing, she shook her head. “I don’t know, but I have to talk to him again.”
Oliver grasped her shoulder. “Bethkins, I don’t know what he told you, but Henry Ramsgate is not the same man he was three years ago. He’s harder now. More ruthless. And I don’t want you to pin your hopes on him when so much about his future is uncertain.”
“He told me he loved me. That he would marry me if he could.” The sight of Oliver’s jaw gaping filled her with resolve. “But there’s something that’s convinced him that marriage to me is impossible. Something he hasn’t shared.”
“What do you mean?” Oliver asked, dropping his voice.
Beth scanned their surroundings, but they were alone on the walk, and no traffic rumbled by on the street. Glancing up at the house, she found no prying eyes looking out at them. Moving closer to her brother, she murmured, “He’s mentioned a scandal. Something he feared would be revealed.”
“A scandal? That doesn’t sound like the Henry I know.” Oliver’s brow crinkled. “Or, rather, the Henry Iknew.”
“Me either.”
“Beth.” The depth of apprehension surrounding that one syllable made her tense. “Is it wise to pursue this? If he’s hiding some scandal, it could sweep you under too.”
It could. Beth was not ignorant of that fact. And while she wasn’t in a position where she had to marry, she certainly did not want to see her good name smeared by her association with whatever secret scandal Henry was hiding. Did he have a bastard child? Had he committed some crime? She supposed anything was possible.
But helovedher. He wanted a life with her, and she wanted one with him. So before she allowed Henry Ramsgate to leave again, she had to know why.
Beth wrapped her arms around Oliver’s waist and buried her face in his chest. “I’ll be careful.”
Her brother held her tight for a moment. Pushing her shoulders back, Oliver waited until she met his eyes. “I’ll come by with Henry tomorrow to take you and Lucy for a walk, and I’ll keep her occupied while you talk with him. Does that sound like a plan?”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
With a parting squeeze, Oliver said, “Good night, sister.”
“Good night.” Beth paused with her hand on the doorknob to wave goodbye.
After relinquishing her gloves and jacket to the butler, Beth watched from the front window as Oliver disappeared into the night. As silently as she could, she walked to her room, allowing her maid to help her undress and prepare for bed. Once the woman was dismissed, however, Beth packed a small satchel with several pieces of her artwork, her heart galloping. Although she could barely manage to sit still, she fidgeted with coloring a particular sketch for a spell, noting when her aunt and uncle returned with Lucy. Thankfully, her cousin did not knock on her chamber door to wish her goodnight, and Beth relaxed a tad.
When the house grew quiet around her, she arose, convinced the conversation she needed to have with Henry could not wait for tomorrow. Beth did not want an audience when she disclosed certain secrets. So with calculated moves that belied the doubts crashing about in her mind, she changed into a dark-colored dress and donned a long black cape that covered her from head to toe. After tucking her satchel inside her cape, she cracked the door to her room, peering nervously down the corridor to ensure no one was about. Relieved to find it empty, Beth slipped out and down the servants’ stairs.
Within a matter of minutes, she was sliding along the shadows of Dalton House, cringing as every click of her boots on the cobblestone seemed to echo off the surrounding houses. Still, Beth moved on, making her way toward Abbott Hall, where Henry rented several rooms. Once she arrived, she studied the entrance for several minutes from the darkness of an adjacent corner, fighting the urge to nibble on her fingernails. When a finely dressed man approached the building with halting steps, Beth crept closer, holding her breath. The man dropped his keys several times as he attempted to fit one into the lock, mumbling slurred curses until he finally managed to push the door ajar. Beth slipped inside after him, heaving a silent sigh when he appeared not to notice.
Hiding from sight, she waited for the gentleman to disappear up the stairs before tentatively following in his wake. Oliver had offhandedly mentioned what rooms Henry occupied, and she was certain he would have kept that information to himself if he had ever imagined how Beth would use that knowledge. Now she stood outside Henry’s door, her pulse roaring in her ears. Beth raised her hand and knocked, the wood thudding softly but audibly under her knuckles.
Rustling from inside sent panic crawling along her scalp, and she took a step back. What if she had the wrong set of rooms? What if another man answered and assumed horrible things about her intentions for calling so late at night? Swinging her head about, Beth frantically searched for an escape—
The door swung open, and Henry’s familiar brown eyes met hers. Her heart thudded at the base of her throat as she watched his pupils dilate. He wordlessly shifted to the side for her to pass. Once he closed the door behind her, the pair stared at each other in silence. The steady tick of a clock sounded somewhere in the room, and Beth focused on it, striving to match her heartbeat to its steady lull.
“God damn it, Beth, what are you doing here?”
Her shoulders jerked up to meet her ears, and Beth sucked in a breath in a concerted effort to relax, but it was difficult with his expression a thunderstorm.
Henry advanced toward her. “Did you walk here, in the dark, alone?”
Swallowing, Beth nodded.
His eyes went wide. “My God! Anything could have happened to you. If you had encountered footpads or knaves, how would you possibly have defended yourself?”
Those were very good questions, Beth thought with a cringe. She had been so intent on seeing him, she had not allowed herself to consider all the dangers that lay between here and Dalton House. It had been foolish.
Still, she was here now, and that was what mattered.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded, grasping her shoulders.
