James barely noticed their departure, his attention fixed on the beautiful woman now greeting their host and hostess as if they were old friends. Which he knew Gabriel would be, having long been a friend of Beatrix’s brother. But Beatrix seemed equally as relaxed in the company of Gabriel’s wife, Victory, and when Andover and his wife joined the party Beatrix greeted the two of them with that same warm familiarity.
While James felt as if the ground had shaken and then disappeared completely from beneath his feet.
He had last seen Beatrix one long week ago, and at the time, she had not mentioned anything about coming to London, let alone attending a ball while she was here. Admittedly, James had not been aware of much at all after Beatrix had turned down his proposal of marriage, but surely he would have taken note if she had said she intended coming to London when Benedict and Chloe did.
Not that it mattered what might or might not have been said a week ago, Beatrix was here now!
And looking so very beautiful in a gown of royal blue, her dark hair swept up in fashionable curls at her crown, with sapphires and diamonds glittering at her throat and earlobes.
The beautiful painting of the moon and stars on her scarred cheek and down the side of her neck, the midnight sky background being the same color as Beatrix’s gown, drew deliberate attention to her appearance rather than detracted from it.
James had wondered at the new fashion of the delicate blooms decorating the cheeks of his four close friends, painted there, his friends had all informed him, by the ladies themselves, but the night sky depicted on Beatrix’s cheek and down her throat was far more dramatic and drew immediate attention to her.
To a degree, James noted with a scowl, that several eager young gentlemen were already making their way across the room, no doubt with the intention of being introduced to the dark-haired beauty who was now appearing in their midst for the first time.
“Are you going to stand here scowling all evening, or join us in greeting Benedict and his family?” the mocking voice of Bastian Forbes, the Earl of Shaftesbury, drawled as he swept past James, his beautiful wife, Abigail, at his side.
These four gentlemen, Andover, Winter, Shaftesbury and Blackborne, had all been close friends since their school days, and their wives were all now as thick as thieves too. They had all nevertheless welcomed James into their unofficial family with open arms several weeks ago, and two weeks ago, his sister, Bethany, had married Andover.
Was James going to stand here scowling all evening rather than join his friends across the room, and at the risk one of those other young men gaining Beatrix’s attention before he did?
Chapter Two
“Poor James looks in danger of exploding, he is so angry,” the Earl of Shaftesbury drawled in amusement as he joined their group.
His young wife tutted her disapproval. “Hush, Bastian, or he might hear you and guess what we are all about.”
The earl gave a dismissive snort. “He is still all the way across the room, my darling Gail, and unlikely to hear anything but the envious gossiping of the other ladies here this evening because they are not wearing facial paintings to adorn their own beauty, as all of you are.”
It was true, Beatrix acknowledged with a swell of love in her heart for these four young ladies who had become her close friends this past week. In reality, they barely knew her, and yet they had all decided they wished to help her and to be a part of this new fashion of face decoration. As such, they had each painted a small flower upon one of their own cheeks: a red rose for Victory, a pink camellia for Abigail, a daisy for Bethany, and a yellow rose for Chloe. The color of their gowns matched their chosen flower.
The simplicity of a single flower as their adornment was, Chloe had explained, so as to be a part of this new fashion, but not to upstage the complexity of the night sky painted upon Beatrix’s own cheek and throat.
“It would seem our young friend has decided to join us after all.” Their host, the Duke of Blackborne, murmured his approval before bowing formally to Beatrix. “Might I claim you for this dance, Lady Beatrix?” He held out his arm in invitation.
It was impossible for Beatrix to miss the mischief gleaming in the duke’s piercing gray eyes as James neared their group. “I would be honored, Your Grace.” She placed her lace-covered fingers on his forearm and allowed him to lead her out into the center of the room, where a dozen or so other couples were already dancing.
Beatrix might not have been to a ball before, but she knew how to dance. Just as she knew how to play the piano, to draw, and to sew. She had learned the art of all those things before the accident.
“I cannot tell you how happy it makes me, makes all of us, that you agreed to come here this evening, Beatrix,” Blackborne told her warmly as he twirled her about the room in a waltz.
She knew from Benedict that many found the Duke of Blackborne to be both cold and aloof, but as a member of her brother’s intimate circle of friends, he had always been nothing but kind to Beatrix, in the past and now.
“Besides, I am very much enjoying making my friend James jealous,” he added dryly.
Beatriz chuckled softly. “I trust you understand I am not doing this to be cruel or coy?”
He sobered. “Of course, and I feel nothing but admiration for you for doing so. Love is…far more precious than any jewels.” He glanced across the room at his wife. “But I know from loving Victory that it also has to be earned, as well as appreciated and treasured. Always.” Blackborne smiled down at her. “Trust me, by the time
