by Leenie Brown
“I imagine it will be harder to find a gentleman worthy of you here, but I have not been to an assembly in some time. Perhaps there is someone who has already captured your heart?” He tipped his head and studied her face carefully, looking for any indication that there might be a gentleman she already preferred.
The signs he sought were there ─ the slight blush on her cheek and the lowering of her eyes ─ but he chose to ignore them and continued on. “There is always Bath. I would assume the crowds are not so great as in London, and Mother has been forever begging father to take her there. I am certain she would enjoy taking you along. She does enjoy your company.”
Bea ran a finger absent-mindedly along the chain that held a pendant Graeme knew contained a lock of her father’s hair. Between that action and the way she had pulled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, he knew she was considering the possibility of going to Bath. However, as fascinating as that fact was, it did not help him discern her feelings about his brother. So, he circled around to Everett once again. “Everett is planning one last go of the season before he takes up his position.”
Bea nodded. “I know.”
There was an interesting sadness to her tone. “Unless, of course, he finds a lady before then. Perhaps Miss Love will be capable of finally snaring him.”
There it was ─ a small, sad, fleeting frown. It was true. Beatrice Tierney was in love with his brother ─ the fortunate clod. Hailed as the more studious of the two Clayton brothers, what Everett possessed in the ability to apply himself to his studies and excel, he lacked in his capacity to see the subtly obvious before him. However, Graeme would contemplate how his brother could have missed recognizing Bea’s preference for him later. Right now, he needed to make Bea smile.
“Many have tried to bring him up to snuff, you know, but none have succeeded. He is a handsome devil — much like his older brother.”
Bea chuckled. “He is, at least, more humble than his brother,” she chided.
“So, you do not deny that the Clayton brothers are handsome?” Graeme teased.
Bea rolled her eyes. “I am not blind,” she said with a light swat to Graeme’s arm.
“Neither am I,” Graeme retorted.
Bea’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“I am not speaking of being blind to my own comeliness,” he smiled at her. “For I assure you that I know precisely how fetching I look.” He winked and then chuckled as she once again rolled her eyes. It was always a joy to provoke her just enough to elicit a small response such as he had just received.
“I see many things clearly. For instance, I can see that Miss Love and Miss Grace are attractive and well-skilled in all the arts required to capture a husband.” He shrugged. “There are many such ladies in London, who, if they wish a desired outcome, will do their best to achieve it no matter the ploys and scheming necessary.”
He nodded in response to her wide-eyed questioning look. “A fellow has to tread carefully. However, that is not all I see clearly.”
“It is not?”
“No, it is not.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the trunk of the tree, his shoulder brushing against hers, and his arm wishing to wrap around her and pull her close to his side as he had done when she was just a girl. However, she was no longer a mere child, and he was not her brother, so unless he wished to get scolded and have her dash away, neither of which would assist his cause, he refrained.
“I also see the way you look at my brother, and frankly, he is a fool to ignore you. I would not ignore a lady of beauty and good character such as yourself if she was to look at me so longingly.” He pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling at the quick breath she drew. He had shocked her just as he had planned.
“I do no such thing,” Bea refuted weakly.
“Lying does not become you, my beautiful Bea.”
“Do not call me that. I am not beautiful.”
He peeked over at her. Her cheeks were aflame as he knew they would be. “My dear, if there is one thing I know, it is beautiful women, and you are definitely beautiful – beguiling, even, when you blush so prettily.” He reached out a hand and grabbed her arm to prevent her from jumping to her feet and running away. Bea did not like compliments of her person or actions. She preferred to fade into the background — to act without recognition or praise, qualities that would serve a parson’s wife well, but also qualities that made it easy for a numbskull, soon-to-be parson, like his brother to overlook her.
“Now,” he said, holding her arm firmly as she tried to pull it out of his grasp, “as I have said, I am of the belief that my brother is an idiot and Miss Love is a grasping…,” he cleared his throat, “something that is not appropriate for a lady’s ears.”
Bea’s eyes grew wide, and her head tilted as she looked out toward where Felicity was talking in a very animated fashion to her sister while clinging to Everett’s arm.
“I saw both her and her sister in London,” Graeme whispered near Bea’s ear.
“Then, why did you ask me if they were both out?” She gasped as his lips brushed her cheek when she turned her head.
He smirked and shrugged. “I am a cad and wished to hear your opinion of them.”
“Which I did not give,” she pulled on her arm again, finally freeing it from his hold.
“Oh, but you did,” he replied. “Your tone and the shortness of your replies told me all I need to know. You are not pleased with them — or more precisely, you are not pleased with Miss Love since she is the one who has enchanted my brother.”
“I have never enjoyed my cousins,” she refuted. “We have little in common. They like fashion and soirees while I prefer books and domestic pursuits. However, you have never been home when they visited before so you would not know how very unalike we are.”
He chuckled. “Deny it if you must, but you are jealous.” He climbed to his feet and extended a hand to her.
Bea looked at his hand warily.
“Come, you cannot sit here the full day. Mother will wish to know you took some exercise. She worries about you.”
Bea’s brows furrowed as she studied his face. “You will not say shocking things, and your lips will not touch me?”
A hint of mischief touched his smile. “You know I am constitutionally incapable of not saying something shocking at some point, but I shall refrain from touching any part of you other than your fingers with my lips.”
Bea sighed and shook her head, but a touch of amusement curled her lips into a small smile as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her to her feet.
“Good heavens,” he muttered as he pulled her upright, “if my brother does not marry you, I might. When you smile like that, it is difficult not to wish to break my promise to confine my lips to just your fingers.”
He winked as her mouth dropped open. “As I said, I am constitutionally incapable of not being shocking.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
He was teasing her, of course — at least, partially. She was both beautiful and beguiling, and were she not so obviously lovesick for his brother and were she not Bea, his friend and the closest thing he had to a sister, he would be hard-pressed not to consider her as the next Lady Clayton.
Continue reading His Beautiful Bea
Acknowledgements
There are many who have had a part in the creation of this story. Some have read and commented on it. Some have proofread for grammatical errors and plot holes. Others have not even read the story and a few, I know, will never read it. However, their encouragement and belief in my ability, as well as their patience when I became cranky or when supper was late or the groceries ran low, was invaluable.
And so, I would like to say thank you to Zoe, Rose, Kristine, Ben, and Kyle. I feel blessed through your help, support, and understanding.
I have not listed my dear husband in the above group because, to me, he deserves his own special thank you, for, without his somewhat pushy insistence that I start s
haring my writing, none of my writing goals and dreams would have been met.
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For those who might be interested, I have some visual inspiration, as well as a couple of research sources, pinned to a board on Pinterest. You can find that board at this link: bit.ly/Pinterest_Addie.
Other Leenie B Books
You can find all of Leenie’s books at this link
bit.ly/LeenieBBooks
where you can explore the collections below
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Other Pens, Mansfield Park
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Touches of Austen Collection
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Dash of Darcy and Companions Collection
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Marrying Elizabeth Series
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Willow Hall Romances
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The Choices Series
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Darcy Family Holidays
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Darcy and… An Austen-Inspired Collection
About the Author
Leenie Brown has always been a girl with an active imagination, which, while growing up, was both an asset, providing many hours of fun as she played out stories, and a liability, when her older sister and aunt would tell her frightening tales. At one time, they had her convinced Dracula lived in the trunk at the end of the bed she slept in when visiting her grandparents!
Although it has been years since she cowered in her bed in her grandparents’ basement, she still has an imagination which occasionally runs away with her, and she feeds it now as she did then ─ by reading!
Her heroes, when growing up, were authors, and the worlds they painted with words were (and still are) her favourite playgrounds! Now, as an adult, she spends much of her time in the Regency world, playing with the characters from her favourite Jane Austen novels and those of her own creation.
When she is not traipsing down a trail in an attempt to keep up with her imagination, Leenie resides in the beautiful province of Nova Scotia with her two sons and her very own Mr. Brown (a wonderful mix of all the best of Darcy, Bingley, and Edmund with a healthy dose of the teasing Mr. Tilney and just a dash of the scolding Mr. Knightley).
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