Page 32 of Defying the Earl
“That boy is skilled at this courtship business, isn’t he?”
Lady Frampton said that last with a dose of satisfaction in her tone that didn’t fit with Beatrice’s mood. She didn’t think dalliance was a skill a gentleman ought to cultivate. And playacting was for actors on a theatre stage, not gentlemen of theton, she thought with a small sniff of disdain.
But still, it had been a most satisfying night. Lady Frampton and Lady Charlotte continued discussing between themselves, crowing, really, over Beatrice’s success, congratulating themselves as though it had been theirs. Bea supposed it was, in a way. The fact that they had ensured their nephew squired her around brought her to others’ attention. And she certainly looked the part of a debutante, she added in her thoughts, as she glanced again at the beautiful gown she was wearing. Since she was a child, she had never worn anything so fine.
It was really just a fairy tale, though, that was to end soon, and she’d go back to being the household drudge, she was sure of it. If no one had thought her worth courting before, why would they think so now? Just because Braxton had brought her to people’s attention? That was quite dreadful. Or perhaps because the Ladies had decided they were done with her.
Bea sighed. A wave of loneliness swept her. She didn’t love change. And change was definitely in the air. She was going to have to choose, she couldn’t keep gentlemen on a string; it wasn’t in her nature. And even if she wished to, the Season would end eventually.
But how to make such an important decision?
She supposed it only mattered if any gentleman actually came up to scratch and made an offer for her. If all they did is dance attendance upon her because she was suddenly interesting, that didn’t make a difference in her life. It would merely be aninteresting interlude and she would accompany the Ladies back to their estate and they could put this behind them.
So really, she ought to be enjoying it as thoroughly as she could as it would surely end soon, in one way or the other. Bea turned her mind to the supper Braxton was to arrange. It was sure to be fascinating. She had so rarely attended such an event, especially not on an equal standing as her fellow guests. Nerves fluttered to life in her midsection. Would she be accepted? Would she know what to say? More importantly, would she know what not to say?
Fretting would do her no good, Bea reminded herself and so she turned her thoughts back to a rumination of the evening as she lulled herself to sleep that night. She tried to give consideration to each gentleman who had partnered with her, but her thoughts were determined to return again and again to a contemplation of Lord Braxton almost exclusively, and she fell asleep with a dreamy smile.
The next morning seemed almost normal at first. Bea awoke only slightly later than her usual time and went about her regular activities of helping the Ladies with their personal affairs. Their maids made them ready for the day, of course, but Bea often had to run and fetch certain items that were urgently needed. After they broke their fast, there was plenty to do, notes to write, lists to make, errands to run.
And then the door started knocking.
Time after time, various servants were arriving loaded down with bouquets for Bea. It was an unexpected thrill for her to be on the receiving end of so many gifts.
“All from gentlemen?” she asked. “I suppose ladies don’t exchange flowers, then?”
“Of course not,” Lady Frampton scoffed even as Lady Charlotte stared at Bea. “What a sweet idea that is, my dear. Perhaps we ought to make that popular.”
Beatrice couldn’t remove the grin from her face as she looked around all the rooms overflowing with flowers of various varieties and scents.
“You are very popular,” Lady Charlotte commented, clapping her hands. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun. We’re going to have to be at home to visitors tomorrow. Surely they will call themselves.”
“It is odd, isn’t it? That no one brought these themselves, merely having them delivered. I wonder what that means?”
“It means that they thought you’d be sleeping all day, not up with the birds as you usually are. So they didn’t think to call on you after such a successful night. They will call tomorrow,” Lady Frampton said decisively.
Bea wasn’t sure if she was excited or anxious. Probably both. It would, at the very least, be an interesting experience, she thought with amusement filtering through the anxiety.
They hadn’t promised themselves to any social engagements that evening so the day passed almost as it had used to, before the Earl of Braxton had upended her life. The only difference was that Bea was dressed far more finely than before. She quite liked it. Whatever happened with this courtship business, she didn’t think she would be able to return to her unfashionable attire. She couldn’t even remember what had prompted her to stay gowned so unfashionably for so long.
Bright and early, as she was used to, Beatrice awoke and started the next day, conscious of keeping half an ear trained toward the door, waiting to see if there would be callers.
What was she going to do with callers, if they did turn up? Bea conferred with the housekeeper to ensure the kitchens would be prepared in case there were, in fact, visitors that afternoon.
Sure enough, almost on the dot of the fashionable hour, the door became very busy. Thankfully most of their callers stuck to the requisite few minutes allowed for polite, seemingly unexpected visitors, and it all passed in a blur of biscuits, tea, and polite inanities. Finally, the last to arrive, and therefore the last to remain, Braxton turned up with a small posey of violets.
None of the other callers had come bearing flowers, as they had all had them delivered the day before. It caused an unexpected flutter in her midsection.
“I was merely calling to ensure you remembered our appointment for this evening,” Braxton said with a secret smile but a serious tone.
“Surely a note could have sufficed,” Bea countered with a laugh before turning away to bid farewell to her other callers. “Your timing is remarkable,” she finally commented as the room emptied.
“It is,” he agreed with a grin that made her wish to roll her eyes. She just barely managed not to. “You are very popular,” Nathan commented as he sat in one of the least comfortable seats in the room that just happened to be nearest to hers.
For no reason that Bea could think of, heat singed her cheekbones. “Thank you for noticing, but it would seem that it is you who is popular, as it has only occurred now that you’ve taken an evident interest in me.”
Rather than taking it as the rebuke she had meant it to be, Nathan laughed and dipped his head, accepting it as a compliment.
“Did anyone have anything interesting to say?” he prodded when she didn’t carry on the conversation.
