Page 13 of Defying the Earl
She was thrilled that they hadn’t, there was no question about that. It would be dreadful to be courted by the many fortune hunters who prowled amongst theton. But how had she managed to evade detection? Perhaps the Ladies had something to do with it. It was certain they had kept her background quiet, not allowing gossip to touch on her. Bea had simply, quietly entered their lives four years prior, fresh from her time at school, just out of mourning for her grandfather. It had been a relief to have somewhere to go and something to do with herself. No one would wish to be the unwelcome relation in the home she had grown up in. It would have been difficult enough to return to Houndseith without her grandfather there to welcome her; it was impossible to consider trying to live there with her cousin’s harpy of a wife resenting her presence every single day.
Lady Frampton and Lady Charlotte had saved her, that much was certain.
Bea sighed. But had they kept her for themselves to her detriment or to her benefit? She couldn’t decide. And really, it didn’t matter. Whichever was the case, she was certain the Ladies had never harmed her intentionally or even inadvertently. Bea didnotwant to be courted by fortune hunters. And without a big splashy debut and someone to sponsor her, that would be who would be seeking her out.
Her best options were to either stick with her original plan of remaining the Ladies’ companion until she turned twenty-five and received her inheritance or see if a kind gentleman sought her out after this sham with Braxton was over with.
Thus resolved, Bea took one more glance into her looking glass. She had donned her most fashionable riding habit. Which wasn’t saying terribly much. Beatrice had always been careful not to be terribly fashionable. She had no desire to attract attention to herself. She was a companion. She wore serviceable frocks that fit and were tidy. She had never been terribly interested in high fashion even when she had been anticipating a splashy debut like her classmates at the school her grandfather had sent her to.
That was another oddity. Why had none of her former classmates taken an interest in her when she had turned up in the company of the Ladies?
Bea tried not to get too upset at the thought. It mattered little. But she pondered the matter as she descended the stairs after accepting that she was as presentable as she could possibly be and even the handsome and fashionable Lord Braxton couldn’t find fault with her appearance.
The small school her grandfather had sent her to hadn’t had a very large class. There was only one lady present in Town that Bea was certain she had known at the Academy. So it wasn’tterribly surprising that her history hadn’t been bandied about. She ought to be grateful. Shewasgrateful, she insisted to herself as she paced about the receiving room.
Would Braxton be late? Had he forgotten their appointment?
As the clock struck the agreed upon hour there was a loud knock at the door. A greater flurry of nerves took up residence in her midsection. The play acting was about to begin. Would anyone believe the Earl of Braxton was courting the insignificant nobody who was his aunts’ companion? Only time would be able to tell, Bea supposed.
“Lord Braxton to see you, my lady,” the footman announced even as both Ladies hurried into the room as though appearing from nowhere.
“I meant to help you get ready, Bea, I do apologize,” Lady Charlotte fluttered even as Lady Frampton nodded her approval. “You’ll do.”
A small part of Bea wanted to preen under the rare praise, but she ignored the silly impulse. This was playacting, on all their parts, not some reality that was going to remain. She was a paid companion, not a debutante, she reminded herself. Braxton was only pretending to court her in order to straighten out the mess of the wager he had made. None of this was real.
Perhaps if she told herself often enough, she would believe it.
Before she was fully prepared, though, she was being handed up into the earl’s high perch phaeton.
“I didn’t know you were one for the first stare of fashion, my lord,” she remarked mildly as she rearranged her skirts after the climb, willing her heart to stop racing from the various sources of nervous energy.
It was because of this very man that Bea had developed the obsessive habit of never being alone with a male person and yet here she was, alone with him. Out in a very public way, but still, it was one of the sources of the quivers going through her. Another was that she had never been so far off the ground in a way that did not feel terribly stable.
Braxton hadn’t responded yet to her comment about fashion, but she couldn’t help probing further. “Have you been driving this particular conveyance for long?”
Finally he grinned at her. “I can assure you I am highly skilled with the ribbons and can successfully drive any carriage, you needn’t be nervous at all.”
“But why a phaeton today, my lord? Was it a particular choice? Or was it the carriage closest to the front of your stables?”
The rich laughter that followed her question only added to the jumble of feelings revolving around themselves in her chest and belly. This one, though, was much more pleasant than the nerves. Still Bea tried to ignore it. She didn’t want feelings about the earl whether positive or negative. She wished for neutrality. That wish was likely futile.
“Are you afraid, Beatrice? I never would have thought it.”
Predictably, Bea’s chin lifted and she forced her hands to release their grip on the side of her seat and composed them in her lap.
“Good girl,” Braxton said quietly, in praise, causing another quiver within her, this one a little harder to ignore, but she did her best.
They drove in silence for a space of time while Braxton navigated the traffic and Bea fought back the rest of her fears. Ifshe was going to die, she thought with wry amusement, it might as well be in a blaze of glory. Not that she was likely to die from a carriage accident, and there wouldn’t actually be anything terribly glorious about one, either, but it was exciting to be doing something so daring for once in her rather dull existence.
She could tell that those they passed by on the street took notice of them even if Beatrice couldn’t really look directly at the spectators with her focus glued so fully to the street in front of them. It took every last drop of self-control she possessed to at least appear as though she didn’t want to fling herself onto the small floor of the silly little carriage.
Once Bea felt sufficiently composed, which happened to coincide with entering the slightly less busy street leading directly to the Park, she attempted to start a conversation.
“So, what do courting people talk about?” she asked, causing Braxton to laugh again.
“How would I know?” he asked with a grin. “I’ve never actually courted anyone before.”
Bea tried not to react to his statement, but it caused her ire to rise against him again. She had truly believed he had been courting her in the past. But she had already realized she was wrong on that count, she reminded herself. Rather silly and useless to be angry with him over it again after all this time.
