Beau knew better than to allow his physical attraction to a woman get out of hand. Ever. No woman truly desired him because of the curse. It didn’t matter if he believed in the curse or not. They did. So it was better not to have hope at all than to have hope and then watch that hope be smashed to bits under a beautiful woman’s slipper heel.
Except that unlike other women, Dinah didn’t believe in any sort of gypsy curse. Or at least she said she didn’t. Beau thought he might believe her, at least a little.
For Beau had spied on Dinah for the better part of the day. Using Grayfield’s numerous hidden passageways, he had followed her about the manor house as she explored each and every room – save for his own chambers, of course – at length. She was seemingly fascinated by everything she saw, including some of his inventions. So perhaps she had not been faking her interest in his heating system after all.
Dinah had also dressed for the day in one of his mother’s old gowns, though Beau would have preferred that she continue to wear the thin nightrail that showed off her delightful breasts. She did look rather fetching in that. Beau had also instructed Cecily to take whatever Dinah might require for the duration of her stay from his mother’s long-untouched wardrobe full of clothing.
If Dinah had once possessed trunks of her own, they were long gone, having either been tossed aside by Ryfell’s coachman on the journey here or swept downstream by the rushing river when the coach overturned. Beau had no idea which of the two reasons was the correct one, but in the end, it didn’t truly matter. Dinah didn’t have a stitch of her own clothing to wear. While Beau might have preferred to see her naked for the duration of her time here at Grayfield, he doubted she would feel the same. So his mother’s closets had been raided to provide rather luxuriously for his guest. Not that his mother needed those clothes any longer, anyway, God rest her soul.
Now Dinah was dressed for dinner in another one of his mother’s old gowns. The frock had been one of her least favorites, and Beau could only remember her wearing it once – and even that memory was hazy at best, so in truth, she might never have worn it at all. She might have worn a similar gown, as his mother had been renowned for having numerous gowns that looked very similar but were actually different.
No matter where this particular gown had come from, however, it suited Dinah and her coloring perfectly. The dress was a silver confection with lace and beading on both the skirt and bodice, so low cut in the front that it might have been declared scandalous. Here in Suffolk, the gown certainly was, though in London? Likely it would have been considered a bit on the modest side. Not that Beau knew much about ladies’ fashion. He didn’t.
He did, however, know when a woman looked all too fetching in a gown. Beau was no blushing virgin, having paid a few of the more tolerant and accepting London courtesans to teach him the ways of a woman’s body over the years on the rare occasions he ventured into Town.
Beau was also six and twenty and in his sexual prime. It would be difficult for him not to notice a lovely, curvy creature like Lady Dinah Crestfield wandering through his family’s portrait gallery with her breasts mostly exposed for his viewing pleasure – just as she was doing now.
He couldn’t blame her for her restlessness, though. The storm continued to rage outside so she could not go out of doors. Nor could she flee Grayfield. On the other hand, she didn’t seem to wish to run away from here, either. Rather, she seemed content to stay and explore. She also seemed to wish to have more interaction with him, though Beau could not imagine why. He had been unforgivably rude to her this morning.
That was part of the reason why Beau was presently keeping his distance from her. Well, that and the fact that she…unnerved him. No one unnerved him. Not any longer, at least.
Still, Dinah had interrogated Harris rather vigorously earlier about why Beau hadn’t been present at dinner. And Dinah had clearly been expecting her host to appear. She was also clearly miffed that he hadn’t. For the first time in his life, Beau had witnessed his butler show a tiny bit of fear – and it had been directed at this petite, golden angel. Curious, that.
Just as curious as she was, it seemed – which was why she was currently investigating his portrait gallery rather than reading a book in her chambers or the library the way other young ladies might. Beau possessed a rather well stocked library, which included a large number of gothic novels that had belonged to his mother. He had thought those might capture Dinah’s interest. Hadn’t he read somewhere that young women adored such books? Something about a book titled Mrs. Kingsley and the Black Pirate, as well as its follow-ups, being all the rage in recent years? He knew those books were around here somewhere. All Dinah had to do was ask, and they would be found for her amusement.
Except Dinah hadn’t asked. Beau hadn’t expected that.
His mother’s embroidery hoop was likely about somewhere as well, should Dinah have preferred that to keep her occupied instead. Earlier, Beau had overheard Cecily offer to fetch the hoop for Dinah, but the confounding woman had declined. Instead, Dinah had expressed an interest in seeing the oversized hearth that was used to heat portions of the manor house.
Nathaniel had escorted Dinah there, though he couldn’t answer her many questions. Instead, the damned physician had suggested she seek out Beau and ask him herself. Dinah had rather flatly stated that she would enjoy doing just that, but that the “wretched man” as she had called him, had vanished into thin air. Nathaniel had, of course, just smirked, likely knowing that Beau was hiding within the walls. Which he had been – to his ever-increasing shame.
Over the course of the day, Beau had come to the conclusion that Dinah was truly as curious about things as she had seemed in the hallway. That hadn’t been an act just to catch a glimpse of his face, and he was a bit ashamed of himself that he had accused her falsely on that count.
Dinah had also quizzed Cecily about any number of things, from where the clothes she was wearing had come from to questions about the history of Grayfield to details about the carriage accident. Cecily hadn’t been able to provide many answers about the last for she had been safely inside the house, given that the maid was mostly blind – something that Dinah seemed to have figured out rather quickly for herself.
Beau wondered again about why Dinah had been in the Duke of Ryfell’s carriage at all. For as clever and curious as she was about things, could she truly not have known that the duke meant to make her his whore?
He was still mulling over that possibility when Dinah moved further on down the length of the portrait gallery. Unfortunately, the hidden passage in this room didn’t go any further, a design flaw that he planned to rectify as soon as possible. Beau could, of course, exit the passage and continue his spying from behind a low wall that was used to prop up old suits of armor. The concept for the wall had been that during formal events, candles would be placed in the small area directly behind the wall, illuminating the suits of armor from behind. That has been his father’s idea. Back when his father had imagined hosting grand parties to show off his heir, host Beau’s betrothal ball, Beau’s wedding ball, and eventually a ball in honor of his grandchildren.
All things that had never come to pass and now never would. However the small, walled-off area remained, and, though Beau was rather on the tall side, he thought that if he was careful, he might be able to continue observing Dinah without being caught.
For after having skulked about around her all day, Beau had already ceased putting the “lady” in front of her name. At least in his mind, at any rate.
Fortune was smiling upon him as he slowly and quietly crept into the area behind the armor when her back was turned. It continued to smile upon him as he worked his way down the passage. However, his luck turned when he encountered an area where the maids had not dusted recently. If ever, from the looks of things. And Beau had a very sensitive nose. He always had, even as a child.
“Achoo!” Beau couldn’t help it. He sneezed.
Turning slowly, he caught a lo
ok of pure mischief mixed with mirth in Dinah’s blue eyes. Lady Dinah, he reminded himself sternly. It would not do to become overly familiar. Nor was it proper.
"You can come out now, Lord Kingsford,” she said in a teasing tone. “I will not look at you if that is what you are worried about.”
Slowly emerging from his hiding place, Beau was stunned. “I…how…how on earth did you know I was there?”
Dinah gave him a serene smile. “I have known that you have been following me about since luncheon.”
“Nathaniel,” Beau hissed in irritation. His meddling friend would pay for that. Somehow. Though Beau would not hurt the man too badly. He still needed a physician at Grayfield, and he had paid for the man’s education. Or rather his father had.
“Earlier, I felt as if we were being watched and I mentioned as much to Dr. Longford. He informed me that we likely were and who was the most likely culprit.” She glanced behind him to the open area mostly hidden behind the half-wall. “Lurk about in walls often, do you?”
“No.” Beau was defensive though he was trying not to be. He was at fault, after all. Not her. “Perhaps.” Then he sighed and shook his head. “Forgive me, my lady, but why do you not behave as other women do? I have been watching you all day, and I cannot figure you out!” He began to pace, warming to the topic as he had his heating design earlier. “For instance, you are clearly quite clever and intuitive. Even before the good Dr. Longford mentioned my penchant for hiding behind walls, you were asking questions – of everyone. So I know that you are genuinely curious about the world around you.”
Dinah lifted a single, bare shoulder, making blood shoot straight to Beau’s groin, his cock immediately erect. Oh, this was not good. Not good at all. He did not need to feel attraction for this woman, not even a little bit. Such a thing could only lead to trouble for all concerned. However, Beau was also concerned that he was already well past that point, for she was making his cock ache to be inside her lush body with only a single look.
“Curiosity has been a great flaw of mine from a young age,” Dinah confessed. “One of many, I fear. If you are looking for a good, proper young lady, Lord Kingsford, I am afraid that you will not find such in me.”
“So you know all about the Duke of Ryfell’s plans?” Beau was incredulous and feeling just a bit ill. Had he rescued this woman, become infatuated with her to the point of insanity over the course of a single day, only to discover she really was a harlot?
“Of course!” Dinah’s eyes flashed blue fire.
“How could you? You, a lady of good breeding! A viscount’s daughter! How could you do such a thing?” Beau wanted nothing more than to shake some bloody sense into this woman – if only he thought it might help.
“What woman does not hold out hope of becoming a duchess, however small that might be?” Dinah was clearly angry as well now. “And at the very least, my lord, becoming a governess to a duke’s children is a very respectable position, especially for a woman in my situation.”
“Wait. What?” Now Beau was utterly confused, his anger ebbing away slowly as he blinked at Dinah in confusion.
Dinah, however, was still angry and she crossed her arms over her chest, something that she seemed to do often when she was vexed. And at the moment, she was looking very vexed – at him. Strangely, she also didn’t seem to notice his eyes in the least.
“I said, what woman would not wish to become a duchess, should that offer be made?” She lifted her eyebrows imperiously. “The advertisement I replied to in the Town Tattler was for a position as governess in a duke’s home. A duke I later learned was Ryfell. The ad also stated that if the duke was pleased with my work in regards to the children, there might be a promotion. I can only assume the promotion was to the position of his wife. I mean, it is not as if a duke can go about purchasing a wife, at least not these days.”
“He can, however, purchase a mistress. Not to mention purchase an innocent, gently-reared virgin that he can turn into his personal whore,” Beau corrected softly.
He should not be saying such things – or speaking such awful words – to a lady like Dinah, but Beau felt she had the right to know the truth of the matter. He had to be honest with her, above all else.
Thus far, she had been nothing but honest with him, and she deserved the same in return. No matter how much the truth stung. And he had a feeling this truth would sting a good bit.
Instantly, Dinah’s eyes widened, a look of pure horror crossing her lovely face. “Oh. You mean…”
Beau nodded sadly. “Did you not find it curious that the man sent such a wretched coach and only a single coachman to fetch you?”
Dinah bit her lip and sighed. “I did. But I assumed he was simply poor. Or not wanting me to set my expectations too high.” She turned away in obvious shame and gripped the railing at the base of the Kingsford family portraits. She gripped the rail so hard that her knuckles – for she had stripped off her gloves after dinner – turned white. “You must think me an idiot, Lord Kingsford, and you would not be far wrong, I suppose.” She glanced backward, just barely meeting his gaze. “Truly, I had no idea what that offer meant. Then again, I am often rather foolish when it comes to people. I thought I had improved in that area. I see that I have not.”
“So you truly didn’t know?” For some reason, Beau needed another reassurance.
Dinah shook her head and to his surprise, a single tear slid down her cheek. After all she had been through, he had never seen her cry. Not once. He was amazed that she would start now. And that single tear touched him far more deeply than if she had simply collapsed into a heap at his feet and wept openly.
“So what will become of me now? Not that I expect you to have the answers, of course,” she sighed, turning away from him once again. “For I can’t go crawling back to Canton Hall.” She snorted. “Well, I supposed I could, but only after Edward marries Miss Appleton, of course.” Then she shook her head as if dismissing the idea. “You may not know this, Lord Kingsford, but I once had a terribly annoying habit of thinking myself above just about any man I met. No matter his station or rank.” Dinah looked skyward, as if trying to peer through the roof. “From my childhood, I always believed that I would marry well and was destined for greater accomplishments than simply being the Beauty of Bedfordshire. I was vain and foolish and selfish. In short, I was a fool and an idiot.”
For the first time in years, Beau felt something stir within his chest, real emotions that he could not quite suppress, no matter how hard he tried. “Many young ladies are that way, or so I am told.”
“Many young ladies also learn not to be after their fathers die in debtor’s prison and they are forced to become seamstresses.” Dinah shook her head, disgusted with herself. “But not me, it seems. Fool to the very end, I am.”
“There is nothing wrong with wishing to be a duchess,” Beau said gently, reaching out to rest his hand on her shoulder. He shouldn’t be touching her, not even with the protection of his gloves keeping them from being truly skin against skin. The touch wasn’t right, but she was so sad. So bereft. So alone. And he wanted to offer her comfort. Actually, he wanted to offer her a good deal more, but he doubted she would be willing or that his offer would be welcome.
She might not fear him but he doubted she would welcome his touch. Though he did wish to touch her. Badly.
Once more, Dinah shook her head, her golden curls bouncing. She looked so sad that Beau swore he could almost feel her hurt within his own chest. “It seemed almost too perfect of an offer, you understand. Still, I hoped that I was wrong. That I was just being foolish. Again.” That was not a question. “Then the coach rolled up, and I knew something was amiss.”
“But your pride forced you to enter the coach anyway?” Over the years, Nathaniel had lectured Beau that what was standing in his way of living a full and complete life was his own damn pride – not his so-called deformity.
“Pride and guilt,” Dinah confessed as she turned around again. “I had alr
eady wronged my cousin, Edward. Badly. Even though I had promised him that I would marry him once my mourning period ended, when he arrived at Canton Hall I refused him out of hand, thinking myself better than him. In truth, he was a far better person than I was or could have hoped to be. Edward is actually quite kind and considerate and, while not the most handsome of men, he will make Miss Appleton a fine husband. Looks, despite your view of the matter, my lord, are not everything.”
“To most people, they are,” Beau offered in a conciliatory tone. He did not like the way she was castigating herself. Everyone made mistakes, especially pampered young women who had been brought up to believe that they were special. She was hardly the first, nor would she be the last.
“Again, I thought I was better than everyone else, though this time for a different reason.” Dinah laughed humorlessly. “For all that I could gaze upon my friend Johnny Richards and his deformities after the war, I was still shallow where he was concerned as well, for I never would have married him had he asked for my hand. I would not have even considered it for a moment. I believed a woman with my beauty should expect better. And when I did finally learn that looks and appearances were not everything? I was already bound to this duke.”
“At least you learned,” Beau offered gently. “That is something. Not everyone is so willing to admit when they are wrong or own up to their transgressions.”
Dinah nodded, biting her lip. “I suppose.” She paused again and Beau instinctively knew she was considering her future. “There is no way out of this situation, is there, my lord? No easy way, I mean.”
“Ryfell will come looking for you eventually, if that is what you are asking,” Beau informed her. “He has used my river road where you had your carriage accident last evening often as he brings young women north to…”
A Season For Romance (The Seldon Park Christmas Novella Book 5) Page 5