A lie.
His gaze was cool, and filled with reproach. Unfamiliar. For she had seen Briggs largely in good humour throughout her acquaintance with him. But then, when would she have had occasion to see him otherwise? But she had not seen him look like this. She had known it was there, though. She had sensed it. For had she not seen the way that he drew people to him? That he commanded all the attention in the room.
Authority. He wore it like other men wore overcoats.
‘You are lying to me,’ he said.
And she wondered if he had been able to read her mind.
‘Sorry,’ she said, lowering her head. ‘I did not mean to lie.’
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, and she saw something flash in his eyes. Something she had no name for, but that created a strange sensation low in her stomach. ‘You must tell me,’ he said. ‘You must tell me the truth, Beatrice. It is important.’
‘I promise. I am frightened. Because I don’t know...’ She searched for the right word. But there really was only one. ‘Anything.’
He chuckled. ‘You need not concern yourself with anything.’
‘Why aren’t you angry with me?’
Of all the things, that made the least sense. Why he was not filled with rage. For she had forced his hand into something that he gave no indication he wanted.
‘Because it makes no difference to me, Beatrice. I have the resources to care for you.’
‘But if you wished to marry...’
‘I did not,’ he said, clipped. ‘As it has been previously stated, I have my heir. There is no reason for me to ever marry again, and I had no intention of doing so. However, you shall be as my ward.’
‘Your... Your ward?’
‘Yes. As I said, your brother has explained everything to me.’
‘I’m not free.’
This was the second time in the space of very few hours that he’d looked at her as though she was an object of pity. ‘Darling girl, there was never a question of you being free. You would belong either to your brother or to your husband. That is the way of things.’
And then he turned and left her standing there, feeling as if he had poured cold water over her head. Because he was right. She had been seeking freedom... But she could not own anything. She could not make her own way. She had been seeking freedom by means of tying herself to another and...
And that meant there would never truly be freedom.
That was how she found herself running blindly through the estate, making her way to James.
* * *
When she arrived at the house, her hands were muddy, and she was in a state. But she did not care. His housekeeper admitted her quickly and ushered her into the sitting room to await him. She had been Beatrice’s accomplice from the beginning. Supporting and encouraging their friendship, though she was not sure why.
It was only moments later that James came into the room.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m engaged. Which at the moment feels tantamount to the same thing.’
‘Dammit, Beatrice...’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve made a mess of this for everyone.’
‘Don’t be foolish, you daft girl. I don’t care about myself. I care about you. I’m not being forced into marriage. And I never was. It was an opportunity to help you and to deal with my father, but it was never a necessity. Not in the way it was for you.’
‘I feel so terrible...’