Without another word, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, wrapping her small frame in his strong embrace once more. This kiss was far more fervent than their first, all innocence debauched in the hungry exploration of forbidden touch, and Beatrice felt all of her thoughts fly away like doves. She gripped his neatly-pressed lapels and brought their bodies even nearer to each other until she could feel his heart against her own.
His steady hands moved from her back to rest on her hip and her nape, bending Beatrice’s wanton body to his will like the lovers she had seen once in a painting. Her lungs burned for oxygen, so Beatrice pulled away to look up at the softly smiling face of Mr. Grayson. His cheeks were as flushed as hers felt, and she watched him swallow, pulsing beneath her undergarments at the knowledge that some of her saliva was sliding down his throat.
Beatrice straightened as Mr. Grayson murmured, “See, there is no need to pretend that we do not feel for each other. You do not have to quietly stand by the wall at parties any longer, not if I am named your intended.” At the mention of her demure demeanor, Beatrice was reminded of the deal he struck, completely ignoring the hope in his countenance. Though she was tempted to bring her knowledge of that wager to the rake’s attention and declare him untrustworthy, Beatrice contained herself and simply waited for him to speak again.
One of his hands cupped her right cheek fondly. “If that is not yet to your liking, at lease permit me the blessing of your smile every so often, Miss Beatrice. I must say it pained me to be scorned by you this morning, and after you kissed me just now, I admit I cannot fathom why you would do such a thing.” Beatrice knew that he was looking for an explanation, but she had none to give, for it was all so confusing – Lord Ivanry’s ultimatums and now Mr. Grayson’s unrelenting ardor. She found herself both wanting to give everything to Mr. Grayson, even if it was all a trick, and also desperately wishing to shy away from it to find some other means of fulfilling Lord Ivanry’s bargain.
And so, having no real words to say at the present time, Beatrice reiterated what she had already made clear, “I have no feelings for you, Mr. Grayson. Come now, do you know any ladies who would not readily accept a handsome man’s mouth upon their own, especially at such a happy event as a wedding?” She kept her tone sarcastic, hastily pulling herself away from him, though it hurt her to do so. “If my attentions toward you, Mr. Grayson, are unsatisfactory, I suggest you find another lady at this party to charm, for I refuse to be another plaything that you might toss aside.”
She was not entirely sure that he would do such a thing, but it seemed a fitting accusation for any lady to make against a rake, so Beatrice stuck to it. Mr. Grayson’s shoulders drew back, and he opened his mouth to speak, but after Beatrice raised a brow in defiance, the gentleman just brushed past her to storm out.
Alone once more, Beatrice waited a minute or two to resume her earlier position upon the chaise, entirely anticipating the universe to be so cruel as to send another gentleman her way, perhaps Mr. Kingsley or Mr. Thyme. But when there was only silence, she allowed herself to get fully lost in her own thoughts if only for a short time.
Beatrice was all at once perplexed and fascinated by the way Mr. Grayson had once again found her weak spot. He seemed to have a knack for knowing what Beatrice would do even before she did, which frustrated her immensely. How was she supposed to maintain her composure and perform the duties required of her by Lord Ivanry with dignity if Mr. Grayson was able to make her whimper at his touch? Sighing heavily, Beatrice turned to stare out the window as though the autumn landscape would offer her some small escape from this pitiable existence.
* * *
Anthony could not have imagined that such a heartfelt encounter with Miss Beatrice would end so poorly, and it angered him considerably. Though he knew it would look strange for both him and Miss Beatrice to be missing from the drawing room for so long, Anthony could not bear to return to his friends.
Instead, he strolled out onto the balcony near the back of the Saumon Estate, neglecting his hat and coat in favor of feeling the brisk air on his skin. He gazed solemnly out at their land, still covered with a light dusting of frost, and wondered how Miss Beatrice had managed to confuse him. Usually, Anthony would be the one to take charge of a relationship and allow it to continue for as long as it had life before gently breaking things off with the lady. They would often express feelings of puzzlement, and Anthony would do his best to make it all clear, but now he found he could not even do that for himself.
What had begun as a casual flirtation was now an intricate conquest, and Anthony could feel himself growing excited at the possibility. For, in truth, he was beginning to like Miss Beatrice very much and would be saddened if she were to be matched with another gentleman. This thought was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time because Anthony had never felt this way about a lady before. He was much more used to polishing England’s finest jewels each in their turn and keeping his heart out of the affair entirely.
But Miss Beatrice inspired something stronger within him, and Anthony was not foolish enough to ignore it.
“There you are, Mr. Grayson! I was starting to worry that we would have to send a search party after you!” Mr. Bartholomew Laughton proclaimed joining Anthony on the balcony, clapping his hands together in a manner that suggested he knew about Anthony’s earlier failure. “Whathaveyou been getting up to, man?”
Anthony kept his annoyance within, calmly replying, “I simply needed some fresh air and wandered out there to admire Lord and Lady Saumon’s grounds.” It became nearly impossible to remain composed when Mr. Laughton grinned as though he carried some secret with Mr. Kingsley and Mr. Thyme snickering to themselves off to his side.
“Is that so? And you have not been conversing with Miss Beatrice at all? She rejoined the party in the drawing room a little while ago looking most put out. How odd it is that you and she both disappeared for the better part of twenty minutes, and she returned looking upset?” Mr. Laughton said, playing the part of a detective. “Are you sure you still want to partake in our little wager? None of us would hold it against you if you backed out now.”
At the mention of their wager, Anthony’s eyes tracked around the room to find Miss Beatrice, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted her talking with Miss Saumon and Mr. DeLancy. Thankfully, they were too far away for her to hear any of this dishonest discussion but not so far that Anthony could see that the poor girl had been crying. Her rosy cheeks were now splotched with red, and her bright eyes were duller than before. Anthony ran an anxious hand through the black curls atop his head, smoothing them in a repetitive motion that brought him some comfort.
Mr. Laughton, whose leering smile had slipped when his question was not answered, followed Anthony’s line of sight, and he murmured, “Ah, there she is, Mr. Grayson, looking as upset as I told you she was.” Faking sympathy, he placed a hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “You seem awfully distressed, my friend. Perhaps it is best if we forget this whole wager altogether. After all, what was at stake? Your reputation as a flirtatious gentleman and Miss Beatrice’s hand in marriage – these are such paltry trophies that I dare say are not worth such sorrow.”
His speech did not discourage Anthony but rather, emboldened and enraged him, for what was worse than causing a lady to cry for no reason?
He shrugged Mr. Laughton’s hand away and looked the gentleman dead in the eye. “It is worth it to me,my friend. If you wish to back out, you may do so, but that will not stop me in my pursuit of Miss Beatrice.” Anthony could not bring himself to add that she was the most beautiful and lively woman he had ever had the pleasure of knowing because such sentiments would not be appreciated by his present company.
Mr. Laughton sighed knowingly, “All right if you insist, Mr. Grayson. But you should move quickly, for I would not be surprised if Lady Ivanry and Lord Ivanry take a liking to these fine gentlemen here…” he gestured to Mr. Thyme and Mr. Kingsley, “and wed their daughters to them instead.” While the three gentlemen tittered among themselves at the prospect, much like the gossipy older ladies they always made fun of, Anthony’s mind began working on an approach that considered Miss Beatrice’s feelings as well as her desires.
CHAPTERTEN
“Ireally think it would be best for all of us if Miss Beatrice were to sit next to me during supper tonight. With her quiet demeanor, I doubt anyone else would enjoy her company as much as I; it will make for a perfectly fine evening, in fact, if you would be so kind as to do this favor for me,” Anthony told the butler every day before mealtime, hoping to sit next to the woman whose affections he wished to receive.
Over the next few days, Anthony did his best to entice Miss Beatrice without vexing her which was, admittedly, a hard task. He would discuss seating arrangements with the butler like a businessman talks of finance.
During these meals, if Anthony was lucky enough to have been listened to by the butler and not outwitted by Lady Ivanry, he would attempt to make conversation with Beatrice. One night, they spent an entire meal conversing about Greek philosophy, and though Anthony tried to take it further, it only remained a friendly exchange. Still, he had to admit that these moments gave him hope, for it seemed as though Miss Beatrice was warming up to him – after all, her replies were rarely one-word answers now.
He would also play into the subtleties of seduction which included light touches and small favors. For example, when he, Mr. DeLancy, Miss Saumon, and Miss Beatrice were playing billiards the other night, he made sure to brush his fingers against Miss Beatrice’s arm while he showed her how to hold the pool cue. “You have excellent form, Miss Beatrice,” Anthony complimented, stepping away slightly so as not to appear too forward.
“Thank you,” she had breathlessly replied, staring back at him for a moment longer than was necessary before taking her turn. Anthony could not deny the desire that arose in him at the sight of her bent gracefully but managed to contain himself until he was alone in his chamber.
And regarding symbols of affection, when Miss Beatrice needed a hand to step into the carriage that carried a small group of their party into town one morning, Anthony was there without a second thought. His blue eyes traced delicately over her countenance as she nodded gently, murmuring, “Thank you, Mr. Grayson.” He was taken aback by how a woman he knew to be so lively could appear dainty and gentle in the late hours of dawn. There was something in her gaze that he could not quite place then, some tiny speck of adoration for the rake that was proving himself to be a gentleman.
Or perhaps that is what Anthony wished to see when she looked at him so sweetly while ascending into the carriage. Perhaps he stared too deeply into the hazel depths of her eyes to find an inkling of care that simply was not there. His heart had become too fragile of a thing in the last few days when he had truly started making Miss Beatrice’s acquaintance, and Anthony could no longer discern the young lady’s intentions. So he had to be content with that fantasy found within her eyes and the fluttering of her sky-blue gown that paired so beautifully with her cream-colored bonnet and the feminine way she thanked him.
They sat across from each other in the carriage that morning, and Anthony discovered how much he enjoyed a woman’s company when it was not for the express necessity of some sinful purpose. Though his mind was firmly fixed on winning the wager with Mr. Laughton and thereby gaining Miss Beatrice’s favor, Anthony found he could not bring himself to make such casual advances to so lovely a creature. Certainly, there were longings he wished to express, like any rake would, but in the presence of Miss Ivanry, those thoughts seemed to escape him.