Mr. Grayson laughed and replied, “No, I do not think that at all, Miss Beatrice. You ladies have to be practical about such matters, and I cannot blame you for speaking so plainly.” It was in that moment that Beatrice discovered that she could relax around Mr. Grayson – perhaps not entirely, but enough to let him know her more intimately than another gentleman – and the thought pleased her.
In a way, it was comforting to know that she would always have a gentleman to keep her company even if he was the one who might be playing an elaborate trick on her while she was supposed to be seducing him for Lord Ivanry. But, at least, her guardian had kept away from her as of late, his watchful eyes enough to keep Beatrice cheerful in the face of Mr. Grayson.
Not that she needed such encouragement after the small talks she had with the gentleman and his generous assistance whenever she needed a hand. Beatrice found the way Mr. Grayson was attempting to show his calmer side alluring in its own way, for she was sure that he had not forgotten his goal even after Beatrice told him she felt nothing for him.
It was as though they had mutually agreed to move past that moment and focus on the inherent friendliness in their relationship – the commonalities between them which fostered respect and good cheer. Beatrice would be lying, of course, if she said she never wanted to be held by Mr. Grayson again or feel his muscular body pressed to her own. But for the time being, it seemed that the best way to win with both the rakish gentleman and her cruel guardian was to only reciprocate the affable affections of Mr. Grayson.
What Beatrice had not thought of was how perceptive those around her were, especially her grandmother, Pandora Ivanry. The aged woman had been keeping an eye on her youngest granddaughter, and after the journey into town with a small number of the party, she beckoned Beatrice into her room. Penelope, it seemed, had also been invited into the private space, and Beatrice looked quizzically at her older sister who only shrugged, just as confused as Beatrice.
“My dears,” the older woman began, easing herself down into a plush, flower-printed chair, “I must say that after staying at this estate for a few days, your behavior has become troubling to me.” She regarded Penelope first. “Penelope, we are surrounded by eligible gentlemen, several of whom I have introduced you to, and yet not a single one has caught your eye! My girl, if you wish to escape your other,more sinisterproposal, you must take action when better suitors are presented.”
Beatrice watched Penelope flush and stutter out, “Yes, Grandmother. I…I will try to be more receptive to the gentlemen here.” Beatrice felt poorly for Penelope who appeared to be frightened at the very prospect of getting close to another man, and Beatrice could not blame her – not after what she had seen in the hallway when Lord Ivanry cornered Penelope in a most distressing manner. Beatrice offered Penelope a comforting smile, but it vanished when Pandora addressed her.
“And you, Beatrice, have been playing with fire,” their grandmother sternly said. “I am well aware of the bargain you struck with Lord Ivanry, but I worry about the honorable nature of it. Mr. Grayson is not a man to be trifled with, no matter how foolish the Viscount is, and I do not wish to see you ruin your reputation for Lord Ivanry.” Pandora’s wrinkled eyes began to tear up, and Beatrice at once ran to her grandmother’s side, enveloping the woman in a soothing embrace.
“I am being wise in this endeavor,” Beatrice assured her grandmother, breathing in the powdery scent of her shawl as she held the matronly woman close. “Mr. Grayson and I have merely become friends, and I pray to God that it is enough for Lord Ivanry at present.” Beatrice looked over at Penelope, who had sat on their grandmother’s bed in dismay. “That may not be such a bad course of action if I were to continue to entertain Mr. Grayson while Penny finds another suitor.”
The ladies looked at each other in a sudden moment of inspiration, and Penelope murmured, “It plagues me to think that you are doing all of these things on my behalf, dear sister, so I shall make a concerted effort of my own to find a gentleman here whom I may marry.”
Pandora nodded solemnly and quietly declared, “A very wise choice, Penelope. For my part, I shall continue to keep Lord Ivanry in the dark as best as I can, but you must work quickly, girls. We only have so much time here, and I do not have the slightest idea what may happen if we return home without betrothing you both first.”
A chill ran up Beatrice’s spine at the notion, and she turned to take both Penelope and Pandora’s hands in her own. “We will triumph,” Beatrice said decisively, “I refuse to letthat mantake even more from us than he already has with our parents’ estate.” For the first time, Beatrice felt certain about her part in tricking Lord Ivanry.
But she still could not shake the feeling that it would all come to naught if Mr. Grayson was as clever as she was.
CHAPTERELEVEN
On one of the mornings that the air did not feel too crisp, Anthony opted to go for a swim in the Saumons’ lake. He kept his dress simple – a messily buttoned shirt, trousers, and boots – and felt it was early enough in the day to sneak out without being spotted. But as he made his way around the immense estate, Anthony came across Mr. DeLancy lounging on a chaise.
It seemed that his friend had also sought some relaxation in anticipation of the day ahead for Mr. DeLancy was dressed similarly and had his head tipped back languidly. “Good morning, Solomon,” Anthony greeted quietly, not wishing to disturb the tranquility of the place so soon after dawn, “is your bed not more comfortable than this sofa?”
Mr. DeLancy huffed good-naturedly beneath the arm thrown over his eyes and grinned. “This is certainly better for spotting my bride-to-be in the early hours of the morning. How can I care about comfort when I have the chance to spot her elegantly gliding around this place before it fills with guests?” Anthony laughed lightly at his friend’s lovesickness and reached down to pat the man on the shoulder.
“You are truly infatuated, Solomon,” he teased. “Have you forgotten that very soon you shall share the same bed as Miss Saumon and may gaze upon her beauty whenever you please?”
Mr. DeLancy removed his arm so that he could glare playfully up at the rake. “You are a scoundrel, Anthony. Here I am professing my adoration for her beauty, and yet your mind is preoccupied with more salacious pursuits.” The gentleman then sat up and stretched, shaking the sleepiness from his limbs and explaining, “I have not forgotten that she is to be my wife – I merely want the chance to look upon my betrothed without too many other eyes peering at us.”
Anthony nodded, appreciating the sentiment, and gestured to the kitchen where he would exit through the servants’ entrance. “Care to join me for a swim while you wait? The autumn air will be most refreshing, I am sure, and will give you clarity of mind so that your thoughts may be entirely upon Miss Saumon.”
Shaking his head, Mr. DeLancy replied, “No. Thank you, but I would rather remain here like a dragon guarding his treasure.” He smiled fondly at the fairytale comparison he had made and continued mirthfully, “Besides, I do not think I need the chilly breeze to remind me of whom I am lucky enough to wed soon. Lord knows that as soon as she graces me with her presence, I shall hardly be able to think of anyone besides her.”
This was well known by Anthony, for he had seen the way Mr. DeLancy’s eyes nearly glazed over in his beloved’s presence and made him unable to speak as eloquently as he normally did.
So, Anthony nodded once and said, “The best of luck to you this morning, my friend. If anyone asks where I am, tell them I went to converse with Mother Nature.” He winked at his best friend and Mr. DeLancy reciprocated, his shamrock-green eyes meeting Anthony’s piercing blue ones mischievously.
The land surrounding the Saumon Estate was just as serene as the Manor itself, maybe even more so when there was not a soul about other than Anthony himself. His boots crunched satisfyingly in the fallen scarlet and tangerine and golden leaves which were still faintly frosted with frozen dew. Though it was not as cold this morning as others had been, the wind still nipped at the tips of Anthony’s fingers and nose, making him wonder how much swimming he would be able to do before the chill became unbearable.
He meandered into the grove where the lake was, taking time to admire the scenic landscape before him. Anthony glanced around, ensuring that he was alone, and began to take his clothes off, finding a nearby branch that looked dry enough to hang them on. When he had not a stitch on, Anthony stepped closer to the lake, his naked skin rippling with gooseflesh as he plunged into the water.
His countenance was pink from the cold, but it could have been mistaken for embarrassment when his gaze caught Miss Beatrice’s. “Good morning,” Anthony called out to the young woman who looked to be holding paints and an easel. “What brings you out here so early?” He noted that her curious eyes could not tear themselves away from his indecent nature even if the crystal-clear water covered most of him.
“I…I came out here to paint something for Miss Saumon as a wedding present so that she would have something to take with her from home to Mr. DeLancy’s estate,” Miss Beatrice explained, her gloved fingers wrapping tighter around her tools. “I am sorry to have di… disturbed your swim.” She turned to leave, and Anthony, who found her shivered stuttering and lingering gaze delightful, replied,
“No, please, stay if you would like, Miss Beatrice. There are enough woods here for the both of us.” He smiled when she accepted his request, shyly setting her easel on the hardened earth as puffs of her breath escaped from her lips in little clouds. “Do you intend to add me to your landscape?” Anthony asked cheekily, keeping his voice void of heavy seduction as he lapped the mid-sized lake once.
Miss Beatrice peered at him from over her work, eyes glinting impishly when she answered, “I doubt Mr. DeLancy would very much appreciate the image of a naked man hanging in his drawing room.” Anthony laughed and swam close to the edge, resting his elbows upon the bank lined with dying grass.
“How do you know that I am naked?” he teased. “You have not seen all of me, so one could still assume that I might be partially clothed.” He watched Miss Beatrice’s complexion grow redder as she nearly dropped her paintbrush at his question, and Anthony decided to ask, “Would you like to know if you are right?” He knew he was treading a dangerous line, one that could forever doom their relationship, but her blushing countenance was far too lovely to ignore.