Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
“Is the dress suitable? The fabric— Is it comfortable enough? I do not know the least bit about dresses and entrusted my housekeeper to—”
Though she barely knew Algernon, Beatrice reached toward his hand and gave it a warm squeeze. It was funny how the tables had turned since the night before, and now, it was she that was comforting him.
“It is fine, Your Grace,” she assured him with a gentle tone. “The fabric is lovely. Your housekeeper did a wonderful job picking it out.”
She meant it too. It was a soft champagne silk with blue and purple flowers dyed into it. It had been a bit baggy at first, but with Mira’s gift for sewing, it now draped perfectly around Beatrice’s figure.
For the first time in a long time, Beatrice had awoken that morning on her own time.
No bells, no shouts or demands for her attention.
She’d slept long into the late morning. Still, she startled as she had awoken.
For a moment, she did not know where she was, and then the memory of the night before came flooding back to her.
Before she could feel too startled, though, Mira had entered with breakfast tray and a welcoming smile; inviting Beatrice to sit up so that she might break her fast in bed.
Her eyes had grown wide as Mira had lifted the cloche and revealed three poached eggs, a rack of toast already buttered, a rash of bacon, two sausages, pan-fried fish, a bowl of strawberries, crumpets, and clotted cream.
She was halfway through the small feast when Mira announced that Algernon wished to see her, and he informed her that Henry would be arriving that evening to have dinner with them when he would introduce the two and explain that they would be married.
Beatrice had grown anxious the moment he’d told her, but now, as they stood side by side and waited in the foyer for this mystery brother, Beatrice wagered that Algernon was far more nervous than she was.
Finally, the moment arrived when the butler, Mr. Portnoy, opened the door, and Henry arrived.
Beatrice was a little caught off guard with how handsome he looked.
Though not as settled into his features as Algernon was, Henry still had a charming smile, a good head of dark hair, and his light sage green eyes seemed kind.
“Henry, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Lady Beatrice Cooper,” Algernon stated, starting the introductions. “She is to be a guest in our home for a short time. Lady Beatrice, may I introduce my brother, Lord Henry Fitzroy.”
Henry’s bow was low and respectful as Algernon made the introductions, and Beatrice could not help but blush. After all, it was the first time a gentleman had ever bowed to her.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Beatrice,” Henry answered politely, taking her hand.
“The pleasure is all mine, Lord Henry,” Beatrice answered in kind, curtseying as he placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles.
“Please, any friend of my brother’s must call me Henry,” he invited, giving her a charming smile as he offered her his arm.
Beatrice blushed, taken aback by how charming he was. How could such a man struggle to find a bride?
“Then I must insist that you call me Beatrice, Henry,” she replied with a kind smile. “I am so curious as to find out more about you. Your brother has done nothing but sing your praises since we have met.”
Henry raised an intrigued brow as they entered the dining room and looked toward Algernon.
“Is that so?” he mused, helping Beatrice into her seat. “I find that rather surprising after the last conversation we had.”
“Brother,” Algernon’s voice was sharp and deep as he said the single word, commanding respect from everyone in the room. Beatrice tensed as she looked from one brother to another, noting the tension roiling between them.
“As a friend of my brother’s, you must often have to forgive his brutish nature,” Henry said, breaking the tense silence as he turned his head toward Beatrice and smiled.
“Oh…” Beatrice stammered, feeling her own nerves start to jitter as she was put on the spot. She glanced toward Algernon, who only subtly nodded in encouragement.
“Y-yes, well, you know. Some brutes can be, um, worthy of adoration, I suppose,” she stammered.
Henry let out a loud bark of a laugh, and even Algernon grinned at her words.
“Well said, Beatrice,” Henry praised, raising his glass toward her. “I am glad you are here.”
Beatrice smiled timidly, raised her glass, and was relieved when Algernon steered Henry toward the subject of investments.
With their attention elsewhere, Beatrice had a chance to think about how long it had been since she had sat at a proper dining room table.
She tried to recall which utensil was used for what and what glass to drink from first, but she could not remember.
As the first course was served, a cream soup of mushrooms and minced meat, her hands shook as she reached for the most rounded spoon—praying that it was the correct one.
As she dipped it into the bowl of savory smelling soup, though, she shook so badly that it caused the silver spoon to clatter relentlessly against the China bowl.
“Is all well, Beatrice?” Henry asked.
Beatrice instantly winced at his voice, hating that she had drawn his attention. She glanced up and felt her entire face grow warm as she found not only Henry’s eyes but Algernon’s studying her intently.
“Y-yes, for-give me,” she stammered, silently cursing that her stammer was growing worse.
She drew in a shaky breath, released her spoon, and reached for her wine glass, praying she didn’t spill it.
“Auggie, what have you done to this poor girl?” Henry joked, looking toward Algernon as Beatrice drained her glass.
Butterflies took flight in Beatrice’s stomach as Algernon studied her intently. His deep, forest green eyes held no disappointment, yet still there was a coldness to his look that made Beatrice gulp.
“Not a thing,” Algernon said, his deep tone calm and steady. “Perhaps it is your presence that is making her nervous, brother.”
Henry turned to her, his smile soft and kind as he focused his sage green eyes on her blue ones.
“Is that true, Beatrice?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Does my presence make you nervous?”
Beatrice flicked her eyes to Algernon, who gave her a slight nod and the subtle wave of his fingers.
“Y-yes!” Beatrice agreed then managed a laugh as the wine finally started to calm her nerves. “Well, you are so handsome after all. Your brother of course spoke of your beauty, but I suppose I was not properly prepared.”
Then, as if realizing that her words were far too bold, Beatrice felt her cheeks grow hot as she quickly added, “Do please forgive me for my bluntness. I have been away from society for quite some time. I—”
“Beatrice, please,” Henry urged, a slight chuckle in his voice as he reached out for her hand. “Do not apologize for your compliment. It is most kind. And as for your bluntness, it is a refreshing change from the usual worded dances of my peers.”
Beatrice took a deep breath, feeling her nerves start to settle a little more. She gave Henry a tentative but appreciative smile and allowed him to squeeze her hand.
He truly does seem kind. Perhaps it would not be so bad to be married to someone like him. I could see us being friends.
“You are quite kind,” Beatrice told him.
“And you are quite lovely,” Henry remarked, patting her hand before he pulled away. “And you are also out of wine. Waiter!”
At once a servant appeared with a decanter of red wine by Beatrice’s side, and he refilled her glass.
“Thank you kindly,” she said to servant. A blush formed on the man’s cheek at her words, and he bowed his head subtly.
“You are welcome, my lady,” he murmured.
“Oh, how sweet she is, brother,” Henry said, “Thanking the staff as such. Beatrice, you truly are a unique young lady. Please, tell us more about you.”
Beatrice turned her head quickly as she realized what she had just done. She had forgotten that it was not at all common for nobles to thank servants for all of the small, little things they do.
“I, well, um…” Beatrice stammered.
“I am sure Beatrice will be most willing to share her story at some point, brother,” Algernon stated, cutting off her attempt to make an excuse. “For now, perhaps we should allow her to eat and enjoy her dinner.”
“Actually…” Beatrice cut in, willing her nerves to stop jittering.
Algernon gave her a warning look as she picked up her glass and took another deep gulp. The spirit sluiced into her empty belly and immediately ran right into her head, giving her a sense of ease. She swallowed and did her best to give Henry a charming smile.
“I do believe that the work of servants is quite underappreciated,” she explained.
“They are paid, yes, but they give up so much of their lives to care for us. I believe such a sacrifice should be honored with more than just money but with our appreciation as well. I find that when a person is appreciated, they not only feel better, but they also do better.”
A low rumbling came from Algernon as he tightened his grip around his fork. A sound that Beatrice comically thought sounded more like a growl than anything else, and she turned her smile toward him and dared a wink. His eyes widened in shock surprise, and he quickly glanced away.
“What a bold and beautiful thought, Beatrice,” Henry praised. “I must confess that I never gave such things much thought, but now that you have said so, I am most curious to discover if what you say is true.”
Henry then turned to Algernon.
“What say you, brother?” Henry asked him.
Algernon cleared his throat as his grip on his fork loosened, and he laid it down on the table, smoothing the prongs of it with his fingertips, before he seemingly forced a small smile.
“I say that I have not given it much thought,” Algernon confessed. “I have always found that when I give a command, it is followed, and I have not noticed much beyond that.”
“Well, perhaps we should both try Beatrice’s approach with the servants and see if we can spot any differences in their work ethics,” Henry suggested.
Algernon nodded as he flicked his gaze toward Beatrice, the look sending another flutter of butterflies through her stomach.
“Indeed,” he murmured.
To Beatrice’s relief, Algernon changed the subject.
In a short time, her untouched bowl of soup was collected and replaced with a plate of poached fish.
Again, with her host and possible husband distracted, Beatrice attempted to pick up her fork and eat.
Once again, however, the moment she did so, she began to tremble.
It seemed that wine was the only thing she could manage to take, so when the servant came forth to give the next course, the fish was taken away untouched and replaced with a mint-rubbed mutton.
“Pardon me for a moment, would you,” Henry insisted at one point.
After he left the table, Algernon looked toward Beatrice and placed his hand over hers. She jumped the moment he did so, surprised at the spark that had so suddenly run up her arm.
“Why are you not eating?” Algernon asked, his deep tone barely above a whisper.
“I am too nervous,” Beatrice confessed then reached for her wine glass.
Algernon took it from her grasp before she could bring it to her lips, and she glared at him.
“All wine and no food will make you lose your head,” he warned.
Beatrice tsked her tongue.
“Nonsense!”
Algernon raised a brow.
“You do not drink spirits much, do you?”
Beatrice shrugged.
“Your point, Your Grace?”
“Oh, dear,” Algernon muttered, placing her glass beside his own.
When he looked at her again there was an air of dominance in his gaze. He picked up her fork and placed it in her palm then did so again with her knife in the other hand.
“Eat. Now. Or this evening will not end well for you,” he commanded.
Beatrice jerked away from him, and she was caught off guard by how such a small movement made her head suddenly swim.
“Is that a threat, Your Grace?” she asked, trying to ignore the spinning that had started.
“More so a fact,” Algernon whispered. “Trust when I say, you do not want to disobey me on this.”
She glared at him, and he glared right back.
Then the sound of footsteps erupted on the polished marble floor.
Slowly, she drew her eyes back to her plate and put her utensils to the mutton.
Beatrice was surprised at how hard it was to focus on cutting through the meat, but she was thankful that she was at least no longer shaking.
The moment she took her first bite, and the food hit her stomach, she realized, to her chagrin, that Algernon was right. She immediately took another bite then another as Henry returned to the table, and the two brothers continued their conversation.
By the end of the fifth course, both her dizziness and her nerves completely subsided, and she felt good enough to try to look up at each of the brothers.
“I am glad that you started to eat,” Henry noted as she met his eyes. “I was growing concerned that you would not enjoy this wonderful meal. Alice, Auggie’s cook, is excellent, and her food is not to be missed.”
“Oh, I agree, it is fantastic,” Beatrice confirmed. “Do forgive me for earlier. I was admittedly nervous.”
Henry let out a laugh, an almost pitying sound that made Beatrice shift uncomfortably in her seat.
“Nervous? Whatever for?” Henry asked. “Did you think I would disapprove of your courtship with my brother?”
He let out another laugh as he looked from Beatrice to Algernon. Beatrice as well looked to Algernon, but like her, he was not smiling. In fact, he looked most serious and commanding as he placed his elbows on the table and folded his hands together.
“Actually, Henry,” Algernon stated, rubbing his hands together as he shifted a quick glance to Beatrice, “Beatrice is not here to court me. She is here to court you. No. I am sorry, that is not true either. She is here to marry you.”
Beatrice’s breath caught in her throat as she glanced from Algernon to Henry. The younger brother’s smiling face slowly slipped into a frown, and as he sat back, he glanced from his brother to Beatrice.
“What sort of foolery is this?” Henry asked, his tone harsh. “Algernon, you cannot do this!”