A stubbornness which now seemed to have come to an end as James strode forcefully across the room, his gaze fixed very determinedly on her and the man with whom she was dancing.
“I am so sorry,” Beatrix now told that young gentleman as she stopped dancing and stepped back. “I believe I am in need of some fresh air.”
“I will accompany you outside—”
“No need, I shall only be but a moment or two,” she dismissed. “Nor would it do for an unmarried gentleman and lady to step outside and be alone together.” She made no reference to the fact it was also unacceptable for an unmarried woman to venture outside on her own.
Instead, Beatrix turned and hurried toward the doors she already knew led out onto the terrace, having visited Victory Templeton here earlier in the week in the company of the other ladies.
If James wished to speak to her, then he must follow her outside.
James barely spared the abandoned Shepherd a glance as he instead veered to the right in pursuit of Beatrix. He cleared the throng of people just in time to see the swish of Beatrix’s midnight-blue skirts disappearing out the doorway leading onto the terrace, that door having been held open for her by one of Blackborne’s footmen.
What the hell she thought she was doing, venturing outside alone and in this brisk March weather, James could not surmise. Anyone could follow her outside—
He was following her.
As he was meant to?
Could there be something in what Benedict had implied? Could Beatrix believe James regarded her with pity rather than love?
If so, it was time for Beatrix to learn the depth of the love James felt for her. To also realize that love included making her aware of his displeasure when she did something that might endanger her or her reputation.
“You may close the door behind me,” James instructed the footman as he stepped out onto the terrace.
Several strategically placed lamps along the balustrade lit the way for any who dared venture outside in this cold weather.
James was pleased to note no one else was doing so right now.
It did not please him, however, as he approached Beatrix standing at the end of the terrace, to see that she was shaking from the cold. Not surprising when she wore no outer garments over her gown.
“Are you trying to catch pneumonia? If so, you are going the right way about it,” James barked his disapproval as, having removed his evening jacket, he now placed it about her creamy shoulders.
She glanced at him. “Now you are the one who is going to be cold.” But she made no effort to return the jacket to him.
“I do not care.”
She gave a gracious inclination of her head. “Thank you.”
They stood in silence for several minutes, until James could stand the awkwardness no longer. “Beatrix.”
“Yes?”
He forced his voice to remain calm. “If I have done something to offend or upset you, I apologize.”
She gave a quizzical frown. “Without knowing what that offence might be?”
“Yes, damn it!” James began to pace.
He carefully avoided walking into any of the wooden benches placed along the terrace. No doubt they were there so that during the spring and summer months, one might sit outside and admire the beauty and serenity of the garden.
Luckily, it was March, as James had no patience for such things at present. “I had thought the two of us were friends, at least,” he accused.
“We are.”
“Friends do not ignore one another.”
“I have been far too busy dancing this evening to spare the time to ignore anyone,” she dismissed coolly. “As I have not seen you dance even once, what is your excuse for not speaking to me?” she challenged.
James thought back to his conversation with Benedict a short time ago during which Benedict had implied Beatrix might have turned down his marriage proposal because she believed it to have been, at least in part, made out of pity.
James did not pity Beatrix. He loved and desired her, and more than anything, he wished her to become his wife. To that end, he would do, and had done, whatever was necessary in order to achieve that goal.
He stopped his pacing directly in front of Beatrix, forcing her to either lift her chin or continue staring at his chest. As expected, she raised and tilted back her head, dark eyes meeting his blue ones.
The tightness eased in James’s chest when he recognized the defiance in that gaze. As if daring him to do something. “I have no idea what Benedict is about this evening.” He gave a sad shake of his head. “But I have found your behavior with so many of the young gentleman present to be unacceptable.”
Her eyes widened with indignation. “Luckily, you have no say in what my behavior must be, as a friend or anything else.”
“I have a duty, as one of Benedict’s friends, to ensure his sister’s behavior is above reproach.”
“How dare you imply— James!” she cried out in protest as, his shoulder pressing against her abdomen, she was suddenly lifted off her feet, and James’s evening jacket fell from about her shoulders and onto the floor.
James ignored Beatrix’s protests as he carried over to one of the seats before sitting down and then holding her face-down across his thighs, with a firm hand pressed against her spine. “Is this what you want from me, Beatrix?” he challenged as his other hand came down to land with a resounding smack on her covered bottom. “Do you wish to be treated like a woman who has pushed the man who loves her to the limit of his endurance?” he demanded as he spanked her again.
He continued to spank her as he waited for her to answer, each one becoming increasingly harder.
Beatrix had never felt both so humiliated and outraged in her life. James was spanking her, as if she were a naughty child in need of guidance.
Or
