“I apologise for my cousin’s rudeness, my lady.” Mr. Brooks spoke now, pulling Bea from her pleasant reverie. “His behaviour was unpardonable.”
Beatrice shook her head.
“You have no reason to apologise,” she said gently, looking up to study his strong profile. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Bea was surprised to see his jaw clench at her words, as though they’d upset or angered him.
“Truly, Mr. Brooks,” she hurried to assure him. “He did not overset me in any way.”
He turned his head to look down at her, his eyes boring into her, as though they could see through her.
“You are very kind, my lady. But you deserve better. So much better.”
Beatrice frowned in confusion at his words. At the feeling of despondency that seemed to be surrounding him as they walked.
Granted, she didn’t know him well, or at all really, but he had seemed a jovial sort. And whilst Sir Edmund had been a little rude, his behaviour certainly hadn’t warranted such a reaction.
She wasn’t quite sure what to do or say to lift the suddenly sombre atmosphere.
Biting her lip, she looked ahead to see that Natalia had practically taken off at a run, leaving her behind.
Only moments ago, Beatrice would have been thrilled at her friend’s determination to leave her and Mr. Brooks essentially alone. Now however, she wished that she had Natalia and Ben there to hide behind, as was her wont.
A sudden sigh from the gentleman at her side brought her gaze back up to meet his.
“Are you well, Mr. Brooks?” she asked timidly. “If you’d like to return –“
He drew to a sudden stop and turned to face her.
By now, Natalia and Ben were disappearing specks in the distance.
Beatrice looked up at him with a measure of trepidation.
His eyes ran over her, from the borrowed raspberry-coloured spencer down to the leather boots and back up to the top of her straw bonnet.
A sudden, heated flame lit their blue depths as his gaze clashed with her own.
“I don’t wish to return,” he said softly. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here. With you.”
Beatrice’s heart hammered at his words, and her blasted cheeks! She could feel them heating and knew they must be blushing furiously.
“S-so you wanted to find where to gather the boughs for the May Pole?”
It was the first, rather idiotic thing Beatrice could think of to break the tense atmosphere surrounding them.
His answering grin made the breath hitch in her throat. It was so beautiful. An odd way to describe such an overtly masculine man, yet she couldn’t think of any other word to describe it.
“Not really,” he confessed, his eyes glinting wickedly. “But it was the first thing I could think of to get you alone.”
She should have been scandalised. Perhaps even frightened. Instead, she was riveted. By his boyish excitement. His smile. His jaw. His scent.
Beatrice forgot to breathe until she became woozy.
“We’re not alone,” she managed to get out, but when they both turned to look up the path, Natalia and Ben had quite disappeared. Natalia must have been using everything in her arsenal to get Ben to leave them.
“I like this friend of yours,” Mr. Brooks said quietly.
Bea’s stomach dropped at his words. All of her insecurities, all of her feelings of invisibility slammed into her at once.
Of course.
Of course, he liked beautiful, noticeable, striking Natalia.
Not shy, feeble, meek, plain Beatrice.
She dropped her eyes to the dirt path, trying to stop them smarting.
She couldn’t cry in front of him. She wouldn’t.
She would come up with some reason to leave, then scurry off like a little mouse and lick her wounds in private.
“Yes, Natalia is wonderful,” Beatrice managed to say, albeit it a little hoarsely. “Everyone adores her.”
Taking a deep breath, Bea prepared herself to take her leave, when suddenly his finger was under her chin, gently guiding her eyes up to meet his.
He wore such a look of tenderness that Bea’s heart twisted.
“I like her because she has found a way to remove your watchful cousin,” he said softly. “And give me a chance to be with you. Just you.”
Beatrice couldn’t have said what came over her in that moment.
Her whole life she’d been quiet. Good. Biddable. Never drawing attention to herself. Never doing or saying anything that could cause even a whisper of scandal.
So, never in a million years would she have thought that she would suddenly reach up on her toes and press her lips against his.
Never would she have thought she would wind her arms around his neck and pull her body closer to his.
Yet that’s exactly what she did.
Ewan felt a moment of pure shock before white hot lust roared to life within him.
Never had the flame of desire burned so quickly or so brightly before.
He’d been twisted in knots of guilt ever since he’d seen her in her mother’s house. His feelings swinging between remorse for what he’d agreed to do, and this puzzling need he felt to be near her. This inexplicable pull he felt toward her.
Everything he was saying, he knew he should be saying to seduce her. Yet, it was all true.
Last night he’d dreamt of her soft smile, her huge hazel eyes.
This morning, he’d been shocked by the loveliness of her face that he hadn’t really seen before.
But now. Now that her arms were snaked around his neck, now that he could feel every delectable, generous curve of her body pressed against his own, all thoughts of guilt and everything else disappeared. Washed away in a tide of pure, potent longing.
Instinct took over Ewan, and Ewan took over the kiss.
With a muffled oath against her lips, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, and deepening the kiss.
He hadn’t planned this, of course. She was in innocent in every sense of the word. But he was beyond rational thought. Beyond even noticing anything but her.
He ran his hand down to her hips and
