Anthony knew deep in his heart that she had not done anything differently from him, not really, but it stung to be on the receiving end of such deceit. He supposed, as he speared a cooked carrot with contempt, that it was what he deserved after years of rakishness. Though, Anthony noted with a wry smile, he kept the actual act of lovemaking to women of the night. On that matter, Beatrice was far craftier than he, for she seemed to have no problem combining courtship and carnality.
He picked at his food a while longer, wishing this dinner could be over so that he could avoid Beatrice by going to his chamber once again.
* * *
Though she usually despised carrots, Beatrice found the way the cook had prepared them tonight to be quite delightful. She was grateful, too, to be in the company of Mr. Morrison and Penelope, who offered her at least some distance from Lord Ivanry who sat farther down the table. When she took her place, Penelope had immediately descended upon her with a myriad of questions. “Oh my goodness, Tris, are you all right? What did he say to you? Do you want me to tell Grandmother about it?” Mr. Morrison did not look quite as equally concerned as Penelope, for he did not know Beatrice very well, but she took comfort in his interest in her wellbeing all the same.
The pair shared concerned expressions until Beatrice replied with as much cheer as she could muster, “Oh, yes, I am all right. He simply wished to discussthat matterI told you about, Penny, and then after that, I went up to my chamber to take a nap. I think this trip has exhausted me more than I have let on.” Beatrice hoped her sister would read through the veiled words and was relieved when Penelope nodded in understanding.
“Well, that is good news,” Mr. Morrison said, a smile replacing his frown. “I must admit we were worried about you, and I dare say we nearly followed you downstairs.” Beatrice’s fingers found the edges of her napkin which she began to fold and smooth over in an effort to keep from exposing Lord Ivanry’s viciousness.
Changing subjects, Beatrice asked, “What else did you play for them, Mr. Morrison? I was sad to miss such an exhibition of talent, truly.” While Penelope’s future suitor vividly described the rest of his impromptu concert, Beatrice caught Anthony staring at her from out of the corner of her eye.
She briefly debated meeting his gaze but thought better of it, for it did not seem wise to draw Lord Ivanry’s attention any more than she already had. And Beatrice felt terribly guilty about everything that had happened with Anthony, hoping that after dinner if she continued to avoid her guardian’s gaze, there would be time to tell him the truth.
Perhaps when they had all dispersed and the majority of the party had left for the theater, Beatrice would ask to meet Anthony somewhere so that she could tell him what Lord Ivanry had put her up to. At least then if Anthony was a forgiving soul, she would have one less gentleman to worry about here, one who may end up loving her after all.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Anthony breathed a sigh of relief when Lord and Lady Saumon stood from the table, claiming that the carriages would be there in half an hour to escort those that wished to go to the theater. He then sauntered into the grand hall to watch as his grandfather, Lady Ivanry, Lord Ivanry, Mr. DeLancy, Mr. Laughton and his goons, Miss Saumon, and their hosts slowly gathered there.
Plain but pretty gowns had been replaced with more elegant fabrics that matched perfectly to the jewels worn about the ladies’ throats. And the gentlemen had exchanged their more colorful pieces of clothes for starched white ones which stood out boldly against the inky black of their suits and top hats. Anthony noted, from where he leaned against one of the many oak banisters, how his grandfather assisted Lady Ivanry with the placement of her cloak. It was so simple a gesture that he scarcely noticed it, but there was no denying the kind look in the Viscount’s eyes nor Lady Ivanry’s light, girlish blush.
He observed too, Miss Beatrice standing with her sister and Mr. Morrison, and she looked to be wearing a different gown than the one she had on earlier. Anthony chuckled to himself at the thought of her, much like him, needing to put on fresh clothes for dinner as though shedding the offending garments would make them better people than they were.
Before they left, Lord Randlay approached Anthony, murmuring, “I hope you are feeling better, Anthony. Might I suggest an early evening for you tonight? Perhaps a quick study of your financial books and then off to bed?” Anthony knew it was not really a suggestion, and he found himself growing tired of his grandfather speaking to him as though he were a child. However, given the day’s circumstances, the Viscount’s tone was not entirely unwarranted.
“Yes, that sounds like a fine evening,” Anthony agreed, reaching out to shake his grandfather’s hand. “Go and enjoy yourself tonight; I will be fine here.” Lord Randlay’s eyes searched Anthony’s own for a moment with a mixture of pity and slight disappointment, but he said no more.
The servants, Anthony, Mr. Morrison, and the Ivanry ladies waved goodbye with a few of the other guests as the group departed, and then, with a curt nod, Anthony turned to go upstairs. Though he did not hear all of what was said, it seemed as though Beatrice was whispering something to her sister, but Anthony dismissed it in favor of ignoring everything about her for the time being.
* * *
When there were fewer people in the Manor, Beatrice was sure that Anthony would immediately stroll over and ask what their plans were for the rest of the evening. However, when he did not even meet her eye before ascending the staircase, Beatrice knew something was wrong. She quickly leaned close to Penelope to whisper in her ear, “Penny, would it be all right if we went our separate ways tonight? I think it may be best for you and Mr. Morrison to get to know each other better without prying eyes, anyway.”
Penelope looked down at her in disbelief, tacitly chiding, “But that would be improper, Tris! What have you to do that is so important for you to disappear so abruptly again?” Her voice was not harsh, but rather as reasonable and logical as an older sister’s ought to be, and Beatrice responded in kind.
“If we are committed to keeping you safe from Lord Ivanry, then you must let me have the evening to myself with Mr. Grayson. I promise I will not do anything to shame our family, but this is a golden opportunity that must be seized,” Beatrice explained. “Besides, do you not want to spend time with Mr. Morrison?”
Penelope glanced over to where Mr. Morrison was conversing with the butler about something and then back at Beatrice, her mind seemingly made up. “All right,” her older sister concurred, chewing at her bottom lip nervously, “but not a word of this is breathed to anyone other than Grandmother.” Beatrice smiled in acknowledgment, thinking that it would be best to keep this between the three of them for the sake of the plan.
“You are wonderful, Penny,” Beatrice cheered, kissing her sister on her cheek. She turned away to follow Anthony but quickly motioned to Mr. Morrison. “Please make sure he does not see me go upstairs.” Penelope nodded and rejoined her soon-to-be betrothed, subtlety positioning him so that his back was to Beatrice.
Now that many of the servants had returned to their work and the remaining guests had wandered off, Beatrice went quietly up the staircase. Her heart began to beat wildly with anticipation as it always seemed to do when she was around Anthony. As she made her way through the hallway to his chamber, she considered what she should say.
Every thought though, ranging from inquiries about his health to obvious and lusty offers, felt wrong and Beatrice finally came to the conclusion that this was not an encounter she could plan out. And so, with three simple raps to the dark wood of his door, Beatrice waited for Anthony to answer so that she might share the truth of her seduction with the rakish gentleman.
* * *
Anthony was roused from his desk by someone knocking on his door. Sighing, he placed his book spine up on the desk and went to answer it, fully expecting it to be Beatrice.
“Good evening, Beatrice. What can I do for you?” Anthony asked the young woman, who gazed up at him with wide eyes at his annoyed tone.
He had undressed himself to the point of comfort, and Anthony could feel the tension hanging in the air as Beatrice struggled to keep her eyes on his face, forcing them not to wander. “Oh, Anthony,” she breathed, “I simply came up here to ask if…if I have done anything to offend you. We have not spoken all day, and I must admit I have missed your company.”
Though he was attempting to appear cold, Anthony could not stop the smile tugging at his lips from the sweet sound of her voice. For a moment, he could not believe that this was the same girl who dealt in seduction, but what she said next reminded him, “If…if you would like to, now that we are alone for the evening, we might continue what we started the other day at the lake.” Her words were confident, but there was an undeniable shake to them, almost as though she was trying to play the part of the innocent lady, and that simply would not do, given what Anthony had seen that afternoon.
“What do you mean, Beatrice?” he inquired, feigning ignorance just to see her fluster. “Have you come to offer yourself to me finally?”