Page 4 of Defying the Earl
Nathan sighed while he again wondered how he had wound up in this conversation. He would willingly give his horses up in order to protect Bea’s reputation. Like the two dolts sticking by his side had pointed out, he was known to have deep pockets. He could get another pair of horses. But he couldn’t allow them to think it wasn’t an honourable acceptance.
“Off the books, though, Douglas. I won’t have the lady’s name bandied about in the clubs.”
“Of course, of course,” Douglas said rubbing his hands together.
Nate didn’t have a good feeling about the situation. He was certain there was more to the man’s bet than a mere jest. It made his stomach clench. He should have just refused the ridiculous wager but with Robertson eager to take it up, he couldn’t allow the dolt to pester Beatrice, nor risk her reputation.
Chapter Three
Beatrice kept her chin up and her back ramrod straight, but her lips desperately wanted to tremble, and she had to concentrate very hard on her breathing and her hands in order to remain calm and not spill Lady Frampton’s punch.
How could she have been so foolish as to not realize they would run into Nathan? She knew he had inherited after his father and brother died so tragically. It had been all Lady Charlotte talked about for weeks when it had happened, since she would forget that she had already talked about it before. There was no way Bea could have avoided the knowledge. So she ought to have realized he would be in Town during the sessions of Parliament.
The only explanation she could think of was that she had gotten complacent. It was a reasonably comfortable life she was leading as the Ladies’ companion. They weren’t overly demanding of her. She had plenty of time to pursue her own interests. Which was why she had grown preoccupied with knowledge and not given thought to the social implications of coming to Town.
Of course, she would be accompanying the Ladies to events. And of course, she would have to interact with theton. And of course, some of them would take an interest in her.
Just because she had rejoiced in her own acceptance of her unwed state didn’t mean Society would agree with her on the topic. Even the Ladies thought she ought to wed, despite the fact that it would inconvenience them. Thankfully, because they didn’t enjoy being inconvenienced, they didn’t put any actual effort into the endeavour, so Bea knew she was in no real danger of having to wed. The Ladies disapproved of all the gentlemen who had yet presented themselves in the guise of suitors.
Except for Nate, of course. They would have thought that a perfect match, but as far as Beatrice knew they had never really been aware of that little episode. And then he was gone. For two years. No word from him had ever reached Bea, not even a farewell. And for that she would never forgive him.
She had recovered from the broken heart and set it aside as having been youthful infatuation and forgiven herself the foolishness. But Nathan Lawrence was never to be forgiven for breaking her young heart in such a ruthless way.
And now he was in Town.
There was no reason to panic, she assured herself even as another tremble swept through her, threatening to cause her to splash the punch all over herself and the floor if she didn’t calm down. He had sounded incredulous to see her.
Incredulous. What a ridiculous word. But it was neither positive nor negative, really. He had been very surprised. Not happy, not dismayed, just deeply surprised. Certainly not the reaction of a man carrying a torch for her, that was for certain. Nor the reaction of a man filled with regret over his treatment of her.
She need never see him again. Surely she was intelligent enough to ensure that. The Ladies might not appreciate her absenting herself whenever he might be in the vicinity, but she wasn’t actually their servant; they couldn’t truly order her around. Bea knew she was somewhat dependent upon them but as a woman of gentle background, they couldn’t force her into any behaviour she refused.
But they could demonstrate their disappointment in her. That would be the worst. Beatrice hated to disappoint anyone, least of all the two lovely old women who had taken her in when she had nowhere else to go.
She ought to have had options. Lady Beatrice Harrison wasn’t truly a nobody. Her grandfather had been the Earl of Houndseith. But since Bea’s father had died when she was a small, only child, a distant cousin had inherited the earldom, and she had been sent off to a finishing school after her mother’s untimely death several years later. When she had grown too old for the school to keep her, the Ladies had stepped in. They weren’t any blood relation to her, but Bea knew they looked upon her as a surrogate granddaughter and for the most part treated her as such.
But Bea wasn’t their grandchild. She was an orphan with only distant relatives who didn’t want to care for her. Blessedly, her grandfather had made arrangements for her. Perhaps not the very best arrangements, in hindsight, but they would do.
She only had two more years to get through until she received the trust her grandfather had left for her. He probably hadn’t thought she would remain single until she was twenty-five but at least he had provided something. She was concentrating all her effort on preparing herself for that time. The Ladies often made gentle fun of her for her preparations, but Bea knew it was all in good humour. They didn’t believe her serious about wantingher independence, so they found it vastly amusing that she was forever reading about gardening and crops and weather and all manner of building materials and repairs. Beatrice often found it challenging to find books on the subjects she most needed to learn, and she couldn’t always even imagine what she might need to know, but she persisted in seeking knowledge.
The Ladies thought they were providing her a comfortable life. And they truly were, bless them, but it wasn’t the life Bea wanted. It was a life of running at the beck and call of someone else with her never being the mistress of her own life or home. Even if she had wed, while she would, she supposed, have to answer to her husband, she would still have been the mistress of the home. Even the most demanding of husbands left the running of the household to their wives, from what she could tell. It was the natural progression of things in their Society.
Perhaps it was done differently elsewhere. Bea was never to know if that were the case, nor did she much care. In the world she was familiar with, the world she enjoyed, it was supposed to be the natural eventuality that a girl grew up to be a woman in charge of her own home. She desperately wanted that despite how generous and kind the Ladies had been to her since she came to live with them four years previous.
Even as she handed over the punch to Lady Frampton and straightened Lady Charlotte’s twisted collar, Bea remembered that long ago day when they had shown up at her school to carry her off to a new life. It had felt as though they were her saviours at the time. And really, they were. Without them, Bea was unsure what would have become of her. She supposed the distant cousin would have been forced to take her in, but that would have been dreadful for everyone.
The matron of the school Bea had been attending had done her best for her, but she was at her wits’ end to know what todo with the noble orphan left in her care. The kind woman had allowed Bea to stay on as long as she could, but as she explained many times in such an apologetic tone to Bea, she didn’t have it in her budget to take on an apprentice and her conscience wouldn’t allow her to bill Bea’s family for her education if she was actually working for the school rather than being a student.
It took considerable effort to stifle her sigh as she thought of it, even with all the distractions of atonball going on around her. Beatrice had enjoyed teaching at her old school. It was unfortunate that Miss Brampton had considered the proprieties so highly. Bea couldn’t see any reason why she couldn’t have remained there working for room and board. Her needs were truly very basic and simple, especially if she had remained at the school. But Miss Brampton would have none of it.
And so the Ladies had swept in and saved them all. Well, saved Miss Brampton from an uncomfortable situation and Bea from being an indigent burden to her distant relatives. It still amused her that the Ladies’ failing to introduce her to Society had led everyone to thinking she wasn’t gentry. Even though her address was Lady Beatrice. But it didn’t matter. And it was another little joke she enjoyed with herself.
Bea had been traipsing about the country between their estate, Bath, and London ever since they had come to collect her. And for the most part, while somewhat dull at times, it had been quite delightful. If Bea thought on the matter overlong, she realized that her future life in the still-imagined cottage might have its dull moments as well; what life didn’t? She ought not refine overmuch on the dull moments she experienced with the Ladies as they weren’t so terribly frequent, except when they insisted upon taking the waters in Bath. Then they were surrounded by almost exclusively elderly company, all of whom expected Bea to run and fetch for them. For Bea,despite it gaining a reputation for growing in popularity, Bath was a location both boring and exceedingly demanding. An odd combination to be sure.
Such was life, she supposed. Contradictions hid themselves around every corner.
Take Lord Braxton for example. The handsomest man you would ever lay eyes upon with his thick, slightly wavy, dark brown hair and soft, seemingly gentle brown eyes, and cheekbones that made you want to stare at him for an eon just to see his expressions change. But such an idyllic appearance hid the heart of a frozen ogre.
Bea was forced to bite the inside of her cheek over that thought. Clearly her head had been turned completely if she was waxing poetic about his appearance while also imagining fanciful creatures such as frozen ogres. Did such creatures exist? Unlikely, she scoffed in her mind.
