Page 31 of Defying the Earl
Bea sighed again before calling herself to task and offering a gentle smile to the gentleman with whom she was dancing. How rude to be wool gathering while on the dancefloor. She only hoped she wasn’t blushing too fiercely despite the heat gracing her cheekbones.
“Have you been having a pleasant night?” she asked, hoping to strike a conversation and so cover her earlier rudeness.
“I have,” he said, “but it has gotten even better now.”
Beatrice blinked and her cheeks grew even warmer. She had never received such a compliment that was so evidently meant to turn her up sweet. Bea laughed. She couldn’t help it.
“How lovely,” she finally said. What was she supposed to say? She cleared her throat slightly and tried another conversational tactic. “Have you travelled far to be in London for the Season?”
“Not terribly,” he replied. “I don’t tend to spend my time in any one specific location, nor even two, like most of my peers. Like Braxton. He moves between his estate and his townhouse, that’s it. I have several properties and prefer to spend time in each of them in order to ensure they are being properly cared for, you know?”
Bea nodded even though, no, she didn’t really know. That sounded quite exhausting to her, even though it was essentially what she and the Ladies did, although one of the properties was a rented one, so she wasn’t really responsible for it in any way.
“That sounds like a lot of work, my lord.”
His bark of laughter told her he didn’t agree. “That’s what you hire help for,” he said, sounding terribly superior.
Bea wondered what he thought of her being a paid companion. Was she just another hired help? She supposed she was despite her circumstances being quite unique. If she were truly looking for a husband, Lord Wilfrid was not on the list of potential candidates, that was for certain. Or if someone thought he was, she would ensure he was scratched off that list. Bea fully understood that noblemen were prone to arrogance, but she didn’t think it would bode well for their union if her husband thought himself far superior to her. He would surely never believe that her birth actually outranked his. Houndseith’s title was established far longer than Wilfred’s, but she couldn’t very well point that out politely.
It took a bit of effort to keep her smile pleasant and serene.
“And were all your properties in good order, then, my lord?” she finally asked, growing curious as to his thought process.
“Seemed to be,” he commented before asking, “would you like to see them for yourself?”
Bea could only stare at him even as her face flamed with embarrassment. “No,” she finally said, “but I thank you for the offer,” she added even though she wasn’t sure if it had actually been an offer, at least not a polite one. “Have you taken your Seat in Parliament?”
“No,” he said with a sniff. “I leave that to the louts with nothing better to do.”
“What could be more important than running our country?” Bea asked, hoping she wasn’t about to cause a greater scandal.
To her relief, the man laughed. It was louder than it ought to be, leading Bea to wonder if he were foxed, but although he drew more eyes than Bea was comfortable with, she didn’t see censure on any of the faces looking their way.
“You are a sweet innocent, my dear lady. I thank you for the amusement,” Lord Wilfrid finally said without answering her question.
Bea kept her face polite and began to pray the music would end shortly. Surely it was the longest minuet in history.
Braxton was waiting for her when the strains of this number were drawing to a close.
He leaned close, making a shiver slither down Bea’s spine as he whispered, “Since I’m courting you, surely I am allowed to dance with you a second time.”
Beatrice did not want to be pleased by his statement and tried reminding herself this was all a ruse. But she couldn’t help the pleased smile that tilted her lips as she accepted his outstretched hand. She had implied before that all her dances were spokenfor, but since it was late into the night, she hadn’t committed herself to anyone else.
It wasn’t such a crush on the dancefloor any longer, as some had already gone home while others had perhaps left to attend other engagements. Whatever the case, they had more freedom of movement and it thrilled Bea down to her toes to be able to circulate to the beat in Braxton’s strong arms. They spoke very little, merely offering themselves over to the music as it ebbed and flowed, her spirits following the beat and rhythm along with Braxton’s strong lead.
This dance, the time flew. Before she knew it, Braxton was bowing over her hand and delivering her back to the Ladies. For the briefest moment Beatrice felt a wave of guilt when she observed how tired Lady Charlotte appeared, but then the lady grinned at her nephew and companion, reminding Bea that the older woman had been involved in orchestrating the events of the evening.
“You’re a good boy, Braxton,” Lady Charlotte said, even as she accepted a footman’s assistance to regain her feet. “But now it is time for these old bones to be abed. Come along, Beatrice, I need your elbow.”
And just like that, the ball was over and they were in the carriage, making their slow way home through the congested streets of fashionable Mayfair, and the Ladies were peppering Bea with comments and questions.
“Did any of your swains catch your eye?”
“You danced every dance!”
“You looked quite lovely.”
“Braxton asked you twice, and once the supper dance.”
