Page 28 of Defying the Earl
Bea laughed lightly. He was charming. “I am sure it is lovely. Do you travel far to get to Town?”
“Not terribly. Less than a day, which is actually very close when you consider how far some have to travel. It allows me to travel there if word arrives that there is any sort of problem.”
“Have you been called home often?”
Henley chuckled. “Never, but it still gives me comfort that it could happen.”
Bea laughed again. “You like the escape possibility, my lord?” she asked with a smile, hoping he accepted the jest and didn’t take offense.
“I do, quite, Lady Beatrice.” To her relief, he seemed charmed by her question, as though they shared a secret of sorts. “Might I call on you one afternoon?”
Nerves flared to life throughout her being. This was why she was on the dancefloor. She ought to be delighted. Shewasdelighted, she insisted to herself. And she forbade her eyes from straying toward Braxton. He wasn’t courting her for real, Bea reminded herself, so he shouldn’t mind in the least that someone else was interested in doing so. And she shouldn’t take offence that a gentleman had only shown interest in her after Braxton had done so. It could be argued that she just hadn’t previously been noticed in the crowds. Braxton had certainly brought her to everyone’s attention.
Heat filled Beatrice’s cheeks when she realized that she hadn’t answered the man’s question. She finally stammered out, “Thank you, my lord, we would surely enjoy a visit from you.” She wasn’t sure if that was the right way to answer, but she didn’t know what else to say. Before she could worry too much about it, though, another gentleman was bowing over her hand ready for the next dance.
The next hour passed in a blur with Beatrice dancing every number. It filled her with such joy, enough to override the other discomforts of wondering if she were merely an object of competition amongst the gentlemen.
There was one small interlude that made her uncomfortable. Mr. Robertson had begged an introduction to her, and Beatrice had been unable to avoid it when their hostess told her as much.
“Lady Beatrice, this handsome dandy begged me to make him known to you. Do say you’ve a dance to spare for him or he’ll never forgive me.”
The elegant older woman’s simpering over the man who had caused her trouble made Beatrice’s eyebrows rise toward her hairline. But there was nothing she could do but accept. Even the gentleman who had been supposed to dance with her next had known there was naught to be done, Bea could see when he smiled kindly at her, nodded, and turned away. Beatrice swallowed the lump of discomfort that threatened to choke her. Thankfully she wasn’t required to speak. A slight nod and a curtsy was enough to please her hostess.
Relief flooded her when Bea realized the dance was to be the sort that wouldn’t require her to converse with the man. It was difficult enough being in his presence even for their brief encounters the dance forced upon them. She couldn’t understand why their hostess had appeared so enamoured of Mr. Robertson. His grin looked more like a leer to her, not at all appropriate to be directed toward a gently bred young woman as herself. Not that it ought to be directed at anyone, Bea amended in her mind as she offered the man a slight frown. Amusement lightened his gaze suddenly, and Bea was left wondering if he wasn’t as simple-minded as he had made her think. Before she could puzzle it out, though, the dance once more separated them and she allowed the thought to slip from her mind.
Could the dreadful Mr. Robertson, the source of this entire ploy, be a pleasant companion? That was hardly possible, Bea scoffed to herself before the thought had fully even formed in her mind. Before she could fret overmuch, the dance was over and another gentleman had claimed her hand.
She tried to just enjoy each moment, reminding herself that she had never looked so well as she did that night, and it was the first time she had ever attended a Society event as anything other than a paid companion.
Of course, she was still the Ladies’ paid companion. When that thought flitted through the back of her mind guilt assailed her and she almost ran off the dance floor to attend to them. But they had forbidden it when they were arriving at the large home that evening.
“You are our guest tonight, Beatrice. Or rather, our beloved family member. Do not even think of us this night. There will be enough footmen about that we can summon if we should have any needs. You are here to be a young lady, that is all.” Lady Frampton had said the kind words in such a forbidding tone that it had taken Bea a while to process them and offer up a grin while Lady Charlotte was chiming in with her opinion.
“You will be the most beautiful young lady present, Beatrice dear. This gown was the perfect selection for this evening. You have such an eye for these things, as I didn’t originally agree with your choice. Very nice.”
Remembering the conversation, Bea glanced down at her gown. Lady Charlotte was right. It was beautiful. The lace was intricate and lovely, keeping the gown appropriate to her status as a debutante, but the lovely blue underdress kept it interesting rather than a bland white. The lace was heavier than some of the other fabrics some ladies were wearing, helping her to feel properly clothed in the crowd of unknown people.
Lost in thoughts, Bea surrendered herself up to the dance, following the music, and allowing her feet to keep time with her partner without much thought.
And then, before she even knew it, it was the supper dance and Braxton was there to claim her.
Bea’s breath caught in her throat. He really was a handsome man. She had partnered with all manner of gentlemen that night, many of whom were far more gallant than Braxton andwith whom she didn’t have any complicated pasts, and yet still, she couldn’t help thinking Braxton was the most handsome man present. She sighed a little.
“Disappointed to see me?” Braxton asked with elevated eyebrows, too arrogant to believe his own words but ready to tease anyway.
“A little,” she said, just to try to keep him a little humble.
Nathan laughed. “You are a corker, Beatrice Harrison.”
Bea laughed too as they stepped into the rhythm on the dance floor. It was a slower piece than she was used to and it felt a little more intimate. But the slower pace meant she had to mind her steps until she got into the pattern. Concentrating helped her to not allow her head to be turned by the close contact with the handsome man.
“Are you having a good time tonight?” Nathan asked.
Bea met his gaze and nodded. “What about you?”
“It has been deadly dull watching you prance around with everyone I know.” He almost growled the words, making Bea fight against a fit of giggles.
“Why would you bother wasting your time watching? There are plenty of other available ladies.”
