His sudden smile set her heart skipping once more.
“But they are not with you now.”
Suddenly, she felt inexplicably nervous.
“No, they are not with me now.”
“Might I escort you home then, Lady Beatrice? I promise no horse will harm you on the journey.”
Beatrice laughed, thoroughly charmed by him.
“Locked him up safe, have you?” she smiled.
“Indeed. He will no longer roam free to accost innocent young women just going about their business.”
He held an arm out to her and with only a second of hesitation, Beatrice took it.
“Although,” he continued softly. “I cannot pretend that I am unhappy about it. It led to us meeting, after all.”
Oh Lord.
“You haven’t even told me your name,” Beatrice said a little breathlessly, trying to retain some sort of sensibility. “And I don’t think I’ve seen you in our village before.”
“No, I am visiting a cousin myself. Sir Edmund Clarence. Do you know him?”
“Uh – yes.”
Beatrice suppressed a shudder of revulsion at the man’s name. Sir Edmund had inherited the barony from his father only three years past. The late Sir Edmund had been a quiet, gentle sort of man who had had his heart broken more than once by his horrid son. The most recent Sir Edmund was nothing like his father. A gambling, debauched blackguard. Lady Fortescue absolutely forbade Beatrice from having anything to do with him.
Though his title meant that he should be invited to events and parties, he rarely attended their staid soirees, which suited everyone, for he was never truly welcome.
Beatrice was shocked that such a man should be related to the charming, amiable gentleman at her side.
“Ah. Judging by your tone and that look, I would say you know him as much as you ever want to. Not that I blame you. I’m not particularly fond of him, either.”
His forthrightness astounded Beatrice. It was so different to anything she was used to. People, in Bea’s experience, weren’t usually so candid. Especially with strangers.
“Yet you are staying with him?” She felt emboldened by his honesty.
“Yes, well, I am lately returned from India,” he explained easily. “And familial duty meant I had to pay my respects. I was just arriving yesterday when I bumped into you,” he continued. “Or should I say, when my horse bumped into you?”
Her laugh mingled with his own.
“I thought I might stay awhile. Especially now.”
Once more, Beatrice felt her cheeks heat.
And once more, she found herself staying awkwardly silent. In truth, she had no idea how to respond to such outrageous flirtation.
She would love to ask him about India. It had always sounded so exciting to her. So exotic and mysterious.
And she would love to ask him how long he planned on staying. If he might be here for the festival.
But she simply wasn’t bold enough to do anything of the sort, and so they walked in silence, with Beatrice desperately wishing she were the sophisticated sort who could chat and flirt with handsome men and be completely at ease.
They crested a slight hill in the road, and her house came into view.
“I owe you a name, do I not?” he asked suddenly, pulling her to a halt.
“You do.” She grinned, glad that her awkwardness didn’t seem to be affecting his jovial mood.
“Ewan Brooks, at your service ma’am.”
He swept an elaborate bow, and Beatrice giggled at his antics.
“How nice to make your acquaintance Mr. Brooks.” She curtsied.
They stood grinning at each other for a moment before reality reared its head.
“I should go,” Beatrice said, hearing the disappointment in her voice.
Was it her imagination or did he look disappointed, too?
She turned to walk away, but at the last second her courage rose, and she spun back to face him.
“I wish I had time to hear more about India,” she said. “I have always been fascinated with tales from far off lands. Perhaps another time? If –“ She felt suddenly self-conscious again. “If you don’t mind telling me.”
“Mind? Not at all, my lady. And now you’ve saved me from having to come up with a good reason to call on you tomorrow.”
“Y-you wish to call on me tomorrow?” she asked, not daring to believe her good fortune.
Could it be that she had been lucky enough to meet a man who was really, truly interested in her before being dragged to London for the humiliation of another unsuccessful Season?
“I would call on you right now, if I could,” he answered with flattering swiftness. “But I know that good manners dictate I should await a more appropriate time.”
The sparkle in his eyes left Beatrice in no doubt as to what he thought of the stringent rules around manners in their world.
“And tomorrow, I shall regale you with tales of the scents and sounds of India, and you can tell me everything about you.”
“I hardly think knowing everything about me can compare to time spent living in India,” she laughed.
“No, it can’t compare,” he answered, stepping closer and robbing her of her breath. “It will be infinitely better.”
Beatrice could do nothing but stare up at him, her knees turning to liquid, her head growing dizzy from lack of air, since she couldn’t breathe.
He’s going to kiss me, she thought excitedly. And she knew that if he did, she wouldn’t stop him.
But in the next moment, he stepped away, and Beatrice had to tell herself quite firmly that it wasn’t crushing disappointment she was feeling.
“Until tomorrow then.” He grinned, scooping up her hand and placing a kiss that she felt to her very soul upon it. “Good day, Lady Beatrice.
Beatrice scurried away from him before she did something really foolish like beg him to kiss her.
And this time, she didn’t look back. If he were standing there watching her as he was yesterday, she was worried that her heart would be in serious danger.
Chapter Four
Ewan watched the diminutive Lady Beatrice dash toward the imposing grey stone house, a small smile playing around his mouth.
She was charming. More
