“Actual y, I wasn’t going to say any of those things,”
Miranda said softly. “I have merely been marveling at how easily you fol owed Lord Highcroft’s request
—rather, command—that you leave him alone with Ethan. However did he manage to garner such obedience from you?”
Beatrice blushed and moved away from her sister in a few long strides. There was no way she was going to explain to Miranda about the games of dominance and surrender she had come to enjoy.
But it seemed she didn’t have to explain anything. Her sister pursed her lips and sat down hard on the nearest bench.
“Ah, I see.” Miranda let out a sigh. “Wel , I suppose it is to be expected considering the history of our family.”
A sting worked through Beatrice at her sister’s words.
“You mean how I’ve always been different from you al ?” Beatrice asked even as she sank down beside her sister. Suddenly she was very tired of al of this. She couldn’t even manage a sharp tone as she sighed. “How I’ve always been a disappointment and my ruination is proof of it?”
Miranda turned toward her and for the first time in a long time, her sister was smiling. She covered her mouth, but not before a giggle escaped her lips.
“Good Lord, are you that naïve? Heavens, Beatrice. All of the girls in our family have been ruined in one way or another.”
“What are you talking about?”
Miranda shrugged. “I entered into an affair with Ethan long before we wed. And Penelope did Lord knows what with Jeremy, al while carrying on about the sins of the ton.”
Beatrice leaned back, shocked speechless. There had always been faint rumors about her family, of course, but she’d never believed them. Miranda and Penelope were so settled and sure and… perfect, she’d never thought they could stray or demand passion or make a scene.
She folded her arms, uncomfortable with the realization of how blind she had apparently been.
“How did you find me?” she asked, desperate to change the subject since she didn’t know what to say in the face of Miranda’s confession.
Miranda sighed. “You didn’t make it easy for us, that is certain. When Mama showed up unannounced at Penelope and Jeremy’s country party, saying she had received her invitation, we were suspicious. Jeremy and Ethan began discreetly inquiring after where you might be. And since your friend you claimed to be retreating with was actual y stil in London and knew nothing of your whereabouts, it was clear you were off doing something careless.”
Beatrice pursed her lips. She wasn’t sure she considered the time she’d spent here as “careless.”
“I was merely protecting my future,” she retorted. Miranda arched a brow. “Is that what you cal it? At any rate, a few people had seen you with Lord Highcroft and…”
“Ah.” Beatrice snapped, annoyed by her sister’s dismissiveness. “But Penelope and Jeremy couldn’t be bothered to pursue me. Written me off, have they?”
Miranda looked at her in surprise, but then her expression softened. “No, to the contrary. Jeremy wished to ride here himself, probably to flog Highcroft within an inch of his life, but we didn’t want to raise suspicion from the rest of their party, especial y since…”
Her sister faded off, looking out across the garden with a troubled frown.
“Since?” Beatrice asked, leaning closer.
“Wel , er, you were not the only one discovering pleasure, it seems,” Miranda said softly. “Our sweet Winifred has apparently been much educated over the years by a rather large hidden col ection of naughty books and decided to pursue her own chance at happiness. She was caught in a rather bad position with the second son of the Viscount Valeron. They are to be married as soon as we can fetch you home. That was the excuse we gave to depart to find you.”
Beatrice stared at her sister, completely taken aback by the news she had just been given. “Winifred and Milo Valeron?”
“Indeed.” Miranda shrugged.
Beatrice blinked. Milo Valeron was wel known for his lusty appetites. She could scarcely imagine her quiet younger sister catching his eye. But perhaps she didn’t know Winifred as wel as she thought.
“And they are to be married?” she repeated.
Miranda nodded with a look of resignation to the idea. “She seems very happy, as does the future groom. And since, as I explained, neither Penelope nor I have much room to disapprove, we are determined to be happy for her. I hope you wil be, too. She much fears your reaction.”
Beatrice flinched as she thought of al the ways she had hurt her sensitive younger sister. Although she had never been exactly proud of herself, this was the first time she truly felt guilt over her actions.
“I have been hateful toward her,” she whispered, her gaze coming up to Miranda.
Miranda nodded, more solemn than ever. “That was part of why Ethan and I took her away, in the hopes that without your influence, she might flower. It seems we were more correct than we hoped.”
Beatrice nodded. She was trying to picture a passionate Winifred, but couldn’t exactly do it. Final y, she shrugged. “Yes.”
“Wil you be able to wish her wel ?” her sister asked. Beatrice considered it. When they were very young, she and Winifred had been close. Their nearness in age had formed a bond between them that she had shattered after their father’s death. Perhaps now
…perhaps she could repair it.
“Yes,” she whispered. “When I see her, I wil wish her wel and apologize to her about what I did.”
Miranda drew back as if surprised, but then she smiled. “Good. I’m certain that wil mean a great deal to her.”
“But can you wish me wel , sister?” Beatrice asked.
“Can you give me the same support that you give Winifred, even though you do not have the same depth of feeling toward me?”
Miranda grasped her hands, her expression softening and growing sad. “Is that what you think?
That I have less feeling toward you than I do our other sisters?”
Beatrice lifted her chin with defiance even as her heart swel ed with sadness. They had never spoken of these things aloud before. Final y, she nodded slightly.
“It is no secret that you do not… like me. And perhaps that is partly of my own design.”
“I cannot say that you haven’t occasional y been difficult to handle. But dearest, my objections to your union with Lord Highcroft have nothing to do with my depth of feeling for you.” Miranda squeezed her fingers lightly. “On the contrary, they are based in my deepest fear that he might hurt you and I wouldn’t be able to protect you. You have heard the rumors about him, about what happened to his wife. What if they are true?
”
Beatrice withdrew her hands from her sister’s, stil uncomfortable with such a gesture.
“They aren’t,” she said with al the conviction she felt in her heart.
“But—”
Beatrice got to her feet and paced away, keeping her back to her sister. “I said no. Nothing that has been said about Gareth is true.”
“How do you know?” Miranda pressed.
Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut. “He told me the truth about what happened to Laurel.” Slowly she faced her sister. “Even if he hadn’t…a woman knows in her heart.”
Miranda stared at her for a long, charged moment. Beatrice could see that her sister wanted to say more, wanted to ask more, perhaps even wanted to argue more, but when she spoke it was to do none of those things.
“I suppose you are right. A woman does know.”
Miranda shrugged. “Certainly there was much said about both Ethan and Jeremy before they joined our family. They didn’t even trust each other at first. But now they are as close as any blood brothers could be. Nothing that was said about them was real y true at the heart of them.”
Beatrice nodded as she found herself briefly wondering if Gareth would ever fit into her family as wel . If he would even want to. Their marriage might have passion, but neither of th
em had promised the other the soul connection that her sisters seemed to have with their husbands. Secretly, she had always envied that.
She shook away the thoughts.
“I know better than anyone that the ton can be unkind,” she said softly. “They talk and pick and judge. But I know the truth, so please trust that Gareth may be many things, but a murderer is not one of them.”
Her sister was slow to nod and Beatrice could see that Miranda would have to hear Ethan’s word on the subject before she was ful y comfortable with Gareth and his offer to wed Beatrice.
Stil , her sister’s expression was softer than it had been when they came to the garden.
“I wil say one thing, you do look happy.” Miranda tilted her head slightly. “Happier than I have seen you in a long time.”
Beatrice stared at her sister as her thoughts moved to her family in the days before her father’s death. Until today, she had never spoken to anyone about her grief or the reasons for her self-exile.
Now she shook her head and surprised herself by whispering, “You don’t think you and Penelope and Winifred were the only ones who lost a father, do you?
Who lost everything?”
Miranda took a long step forward. “Of course not. I know you were hurt as badly as any of us. And in part, I understood that you lashed out in your pain. I only wish I could have helped you more. Then and now.”
Beatrice smiled at her sister, the first real smile they had shared in so many years that she could scarcely recal the last time.
“I wouldn’t have let you,” she admitted.
Miranda laughed softly. “But maybe you wil now?”
Beatrice nodded. “Yes. Perhaps.”
Then she shook her head. This was enough confession and bonding for one afternoon.
“Come, let us return before the men kil each other.”
Her sister seemed to understand her discomfort, for she merely nodded and let Beatrice lead her to the house. But as they went inside together, Beatrice sighed. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was Miranda’s sister again. And she liked it more than she had ever hoped she would.
Gareth folded his arms as he watched the Earl of Rothschild pace the chamber, his anger clear in every part of him. The other man was menacing, there was no denying it. He was big and muscular and looked like he could throw a solid punch.
But Gareth wasn’t one to be easily intimidated. Rothschild turned on him with a pointed glare. “At what point do you intend to explain yourself, Highcroft?”
Gareth shrugged. “What is there to explain? I think we both know what has happened between Beatrice and I. And I have offered her marriage, she has accepted.”
Ethan took a long step toward him. “You bastard. Of course she accepted, she is ruined. She is—”
Gareth arched a brow. “It is no less than what rumor states happened between you and your wife not so very long ago. At least I proposed to Beatrice in the privacy of my home, not in the middle of a bal in front of everyone.”
Rothschild’s eye twitched and his nostrils flared. Yes, Gareth could definitely see why he was so revered and even feared by some.
“I do appreciate this display of protectiveness,”
Gareth drawled. “I simply wonder where it was when Beatrice actual y needed it.”
He had known the reaction such a statement would elicit when he said it, but at the moment he didn’t care. Gareth found he actual y wanted the chal enge of Ethan Hamon’s anger. He wanted to make Beatrice’s family question their actions and see that he would defend her honor…even from them.
So when Ethan launched across the room with a growl, fists raised, Gareth was ready. He blocked the first punch and the men ended up grappling, grasping for fistfuls of jacket and staggering about the room with their glares locked and each muttering epitaphs about the other.
“Stop it!”
Both men released each other instantly as Beatrice flew into the room with Miranda close at her heels. As Miranda caught her husband’s arm and drew him away, Beatrice glared at her brother-in-law with a look that had likely scarred many a man before.
“How dare you?” Beatrice huffed.
Ethan shook his head as if he couldn’t believe she took Gareth’s side over his. “We are here for your protection!”
“I don’t want your protection,” Beatrice cried out in return. “Not from him. You don’t know a damn thing about this situation.”
“I know you shouldn’t stay here, you shouldn’t be here!” Ethan said with an exasperated exhalation of breath. “For God’s sake, Miranda, say something.”
Instead, Beatrice’s sister reached up and caressed her husband’s cheek. Gareth watched in utter fascination as the growling, furious man who had attacked him was transformed as his gaze fel to his wife. They held stares for a long, charged moment where a thousand unspoken words moved between them with the kind of ease one only had with the one they loved.
Gareth glanced down and saw that Beatrice was at Gareth glanced down and saw that Beatrice was at rapt attention, as wel . As if she felt his stare, she glanced at him, then looked away with a blush. That kind of connection wasn’t one they had found yet, nor even pledged.
And in the face of it, their physical bond paled slightly.
“Come away, Ethan,” Miranda said softly. “We are a ll fil ed with much high emotion with everything that has transpired during the last few days. I know your only wish is to protect my sisters, and I love you for that more than you shal ever know, but this is not a decision to be made in this moment.”
Ethan stared at her, then slid his gaze back to Gareth slowly. “We shal take her with us to the inn tonight.”
Gareth arched a brow in chal enge before he looked at Beatrice. “Is that what you desire?”
Her eyes were wide and her hands came to her hips. “Absolutely not. You cannot come marching in here and tel me what to do, Ethan Hamon! I am staying here and that is final.”
“Beatrice—” Ethan snapped.
Before the sister and brother-in-law could come to blows, Gareth stepped forward.
“I understand your desire to protect your wife’s sister, Lord Rothschild,” he said smoothly, presenting Ethan with the respect he had thus far withheld. “You aren’t certain of me, my past or even my intentions, so you do not wish to leave her here, yet she refuses to leave with you. We are at an impasse, so I propose that you two forego the inn and stay at my estate. That way Beatrice wil not feel she has been dragged away against her wil and you two won’t be left in the uncomfortable position of surrendering her to my care.”
No one in the room responded. Miranda Hamon simply stared at him, appraising and beautiful, though he felt her beauty paled in comparison to Beatrice. Ethan watched Beatrice, and Beatrice glared in return. Final y Gareth sighed. “Would that be acceptable to al parties?”
It was Miranda who replied. “Yes. I think that is a very good suggestion, Lord Highcroft. And if we stay here, it wil also al ow my husband and me to get to know you better.” She touched Ethan’s arm. “We certainly understand that not al gossip is true, don’t we, dear?”
Ethan final y let his gaze return to Gareth. “Yes, I suppose we do, after al .”
“Then Lord Highcroft is affording us a very fair chance to see him here and judge his character for ourselves.”
After a long moment, Ethan nodded. “Yes. Very wel , we shal stay.”
It seemed like everyone in the room exhaled in relief at the same moment and Gareth smiled. “Very good. I shal arrange for my man to go to the vil age and deliver your things here straightaway.”
But as Gareth left the room to find a servant, he couldn’t help but sigh. In the midst of the most pleasurable few days of his life, suddenly everything was far more complicated. And it seemed it was destined to remain that way until he had proven the rumors about him wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
J ust as Gareth had suspected they would be, the past few hours had been s
ome of the most uncomfortable in his life. By the time Lord and Lady Rothschild were settled and their items brought from the inn, it had been close to suppertime. The meal had been a tense one, to say the least. Every word he said was analyzed and every look meaningful.
While Miranda Hamon seemed to be wil ing to reserve judgment about him for her sister’s sake, her husband stil retained an air of outright distrust. Not that Gareth blamed the earl. There was much to be wary of when it came to Gareth’s past. But he had spent so long outside the reaches of Society, avoiding that kind of censure that he found in the man’s judging stare. It was very grating to be forced to endure it now. Any other night he would have given himself over to the pleasure of a woman to relieve the strain, but his current situation seemed to preclude that option. With her sister and brother-in-law in the house, surely Beatrice was off-limits. Although Gareth wasn’t afraid of Ethan Hamon, he did not want to come to blows with the earl, either. Such a thing would not make earning his trust any easier. Nor did Gareth wish to damage the already fragile bond between Beatrice and her sister. Whether she admitted it or not, Beatrice wanted the approval of her family. And if they had that, it would make a marriage between them far more accepted by Society.
Gareth could, of course, arrange to meet with another woman. He had several in the area whom he cal ed upon from time to time to slake his needs in the way he liked. Women who calmly gave themselves to him without hesitation, but without much enthusiasm, either.
Unlike Beatrice. And he found, in a very troubling moment of self-reflection, that he did not wish to satisfy his desire with anyone but her.
Trying to ignore that thought, he pushed his chamber door open and entered the dimly lit room. He rubbed his pounding temples as he pushed the door shut behind him.
“Good evening, my lord.”
Gareth’s gaze jerked up. Across the chamber, standing in the doorway between his dressing room and his bedroom, was Beatrice. She was wrapped in a silken robe, her blond hair down around her shoulders in a cloud.
“B–Beatrice?” he stammered in surprise as he moved toward her. “What are you doing here?”
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