Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You and food, brother,” Henry huffed in annoyance as Algernon held out two ripe, purple plums to him.
“I was made aware that Beatrice was not in the house to receive her lunch because you had escorted her for a walk,” Algernon explained, pushing the plums toward his brother. “I did not want either of you to miss the meal entirely, so I brought you both a little something.”
Henry rolled his eyes, but he took the two plums and made a show of taking a bite out of one of them.
“Happy?” Henry asked, his brow raised as he spoke with his mouthful.
Algernon grunted and turned away from his brother toward Beatrice Despite her attempt to soothe things between him and Henry, he was still angry at his little brother for letting her get hurt, no matter how inadvertently.
Something light fluttered in his chest as he faced Beatrice, and he found himself adoring the way a soft blush stole over her cheeks as she looked up at him.
“Are you going to break these in half with your hands as well?” she asked in a teasing tone.
He could not help it. He smiled. Even chuckled as he drew a small knife from his pocket and cut off a quarter of the small fruit.
“Afraid not,” he murmured, juice dripping down his fingertips as he held the slice of fruit out to her. “The flesh is far too sensitive. I would merely smash it in my attempt.”
Satisfaction surged through him as he did not even have to ask her to part her lips. When he brought the fruit closer, she did so on her own and allowed him to place it delicately in her mouth.
“She is not a baby bird, brother,” Henry testily stated from behind him, speaking with his mouth full.
At once Beatrice’s blush deepened, and Algernon’s anger ticked higher toward Henry for making her feel abashed.
“True,” Algernon remarked stiffly as he pared another slice away from the plum. “Perhaps if someone had not injured her hands, she could do so on her own. Do you have any idea what sort of terrible sting would settle into her cuts if the juice of the plums dripped on them?”
Henry did not retort, and if Algernon knew his brother as he thought he did, he was sure that Henry was sulking behind his back. Algernon was fine with that. Let him sulk.
“Go on,” he gently urged, turning his full attention back to Beatrice.
“Be nice,” she whispered, after swallowing her last bite.
Algernon rolled his eyes as he fed her another small slice of fruit.
At this moment, he did not care to be nice to Henry.
It was indeed his fault she was injured, and besides, Algernon was experiencing far too much enjoyment from feeling her soft lips brush against his fingertips every time she accepted his offering.
They finished their snack in silence. Then without thought, after wiping his fingers on his trousers, Algernon placed his hand on Beatrice’s lower back, leading her once more into a walk.
“What are you doing?” Henry murmured into Algernon’s ear on the other side. “I thought you wished for me to court her?”
Algernon flicked his gaze to his brother, but he did not remove his hand from Beatrice’s back.
“You are, are you not? Now stop speaking to me and speak to her,” he murmured back.
He heard Henry make a sound of annoyance, and Algernon smirked as Henry then stepped around their backs to go to Beatrice’s other side. He did not miss how Henry took her arm in his, and his smirk quickly dropped.
Mine.
Algernon mentally crushed the word at once, both startled and annoyed by such a pervasive thought. It was not true after all. It could not be.
“Beatrice, darling, has my overbearing older brother ever told you why he is so obsessed with meals?” Henry asked, his tone conversational.
At once Algernon stiffened, nearly missing a step. His head snapped with a quickness toward his brother, and he peered above Beatrice’s head to cast his brother a glare.
“Henry,” he said gruffly, but it was too late. As he glanced down at Beatrice, he saw that she was already intrigued by the story.
“He has not,” she replied matter-of-factly, glancing up at him.
He shook his head, silently begging them both to drop the subject.
“It is not a suitable topic for such a leisurely day,” he insisted.
“Oh, come, brother, it is a story that is sure to warm any woman’s heart,” Henry urged. “Plus it will be good for her to know that her troll of a host has a soft side.”
“Oh, I do not think—” Beatrice began to say, but Henry’s began his story before she could finish.
“When our father died, a part of our mother’s mind went along with him,” Henry started, a bit too cheerily in Algernon’s opinion.
“She always fancied me more than Algernon, you see, even before our father’s passing.
However, as her mind started to decline, I believe she began to see me as more of a doll she kept with her than the living son she gave birth to. ”
“Henry, I do not think—” Algernon tried to intervene, but it was too late. He could see in his brother’s eyes that Henry was jabbing back at him for making him feel poorly about the thorns.
“She forgot to feed me,” Henry curtly went on. “Barely remembered to feed herself in fact. This went on for days until Alice became worried and went to Algernon for help. He was so busy, you know, trying to clean up the mess our father had left behind.”
“Henry, enough,” Algernon warned.
“Anyway, my darling brother, the bleeding heart that he is, took it upon himself to remedy the situation,” Henry continued, a hint of bitter glee in his tone.
“He would make us sit, no matter what, and watch us like a hawk stalks a mouse while we ate whatever was brought to us. He did this for every meal, right up until our mother, God rest her soul, joined our father in the afterlife. Ever since, he’s been quite obsessed with the idea of everyone eating when he demands it.
As if we without him making us, we would starve before his very eyes. ”
Algernon’s jaw ticked as he gnashed his teeth together and shook his head, fury tunnelling through his veins and threatened to burst on his tongue.
He had shared part of his life with Beatrice the other night, but this was a bit too much.
Especially as memories of such a time came flooding back to him.
He knew Henry was trying to goad him, but what his little brother did not know was how frail and sickly he had looked when Algernon first went to remedy the issue.
He had been twelve, but he was already a lean boy, so even just a week of starvation had greatly changed his appearance.
Hollow eyes. Yellowed skin. Chapped lips.
Algernon had been… terrified.
Now, though, he was fuming, his hands trembling with the effort it took not to reach out and cuff Henry over the head.
Then suddenly, something warm and small wound around his back. Long, nimble fingers wrapped around his side, and at once he felt that anger start to fade. He dared a glance down at Beatrice and found her blue eyes full of not pity but compassion and pride.
“I have not found your brother to be a troll,” Beatrice said, more to Algernon than Henry. “In fact, the more I get to know him, the more I understand his reasoning.”
Algernon’s jaw relaxed, and he gave her a look of gratitude.
“Now, I do not wish to speak of such downtrodden moments,” she expressed, her tone amusingly commanding and matter of fact. “It is far too pretty a day to not revel in its presence.”
“Agreed,” Algernon replied then felt some of his peace drift away as he felt Beatrice’s touch slip from his back. Still, he did not remove his hand from the small of her back, nor did she make any move to remove it herself.
“Now come, you two looked rather deep in conversation as I first approached you,” he went on. “What were you discussing?”
“Henry was telling me of the wonderful time he had at the most recent ball he attended,” Beatrice explained, once more creating a bridge between him and his little brother. “Were you not, Henry?”
Though she was facing Henry, Algernon was sure she was giving him a gentle but insistent look to play nice.
“Actually,” Henry replied, giving her one of his charming smiles, “I was trying to convince you to allow me to escort you to one of the season’s balls. As you have not yet attended an English party, I thought it would be best to show you how fun they can be.”
Tension tightened Algernon’s tendons as he instantly thought of the dangers such an outing could provide, and when he looked toward Beatrice, he knew by the way her gaze dipped to the ground and her head bowed slightly that she too was wary of such a thing.
Instinctively, his hand pressed tighter against her back.
“We were indeed discussing such a possibility,” she said reluctantly after a moment. “However you did promise me that I would have time to make my decision, and I have not had suitable moments to find an answer yet.”
“You do have time of course,” Henry readily agreed, “There is the annual Summer Bloom Ball at the Royal Gardens in nine days. The guest list is long however there is plenty of space to have a moment of privacy if you should need it. Aside from that, the flowers and statue work there are positively gorgeous, and I know you would love them.”
Tension etched across the small space between Beatrice’s brows as she drew her lower lip between her teeth and nibbled.
Algernon was torn between reaching for her mouth, not wanting her to harm the delicate flesh of her lips with her worry, and speaking for her.
However, as they walked, he reminded himself that this was a good sign that Henry wanted her to go with him.
After all, this was precisely what he had wanted, had he not?
“I suppose I should like to see such beautiful gardens,” Beatrice hesitantly agreed. “And such space as you describe would be nice to have for my first outing if I were to indeed begin to feel overwhelmed.”
Henry eyes twinkled as a genuine smile spread across his face.
“That is the spirit,” he encouraged. “And think of the fun you and I could have preparing for it! We could wear matching ensembles. I could help you design the most beautiful gown, and with the seamstresses and designers I know, they can have it made with expediency. We would be the couple to look at and be adored, surely!”
Jealousy shot through Algernon as a beautiful, tinkling laugh poured from Beatrice’s lips, no doubt amused over Henry’s vehement enthusiasm for matching ensembles. Her reaction seemed to urge Henry further into an overdramatic explanation.
“Everyone could wonder who you were, where you came from, and we could leave it a mystery,” Henry exclaimed giddily. “We could have them begging us for your name and story and simply turn our noses and go to the dance floor, showing them that you are meant to be seen, not known.”
“Oh, my!” Beatrice laughed. “That sounds all rather melodramatic, do you not think?”
“What is life without a little drama, sweet Beatrice?” Henry answered, bumping his shoulder lightly into hers as he grinned from ear to ear.
Even as Beatrice let out a soft giggle, Algernon could see still a bit of reticence in her eyes as she turned her head from Henry to him.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Do not go. Stay here. With me. Where it is safe.
Algernon so badly wanted to say those exact words. However, if he did, he feared he would drive a wedge between her and Henry. It was a good thing that Henry so obviously wanted her company. It meant that he truly was giving Beatrice a chance, and that was everything Algernon had been hoping for.
His thoughts were selfish, he told himself, and inappropriate.
“I think it is your decision,” Algernon said, his tone sounding strangely soft, even to himself. “And from the way Henry makes it sound, you could end up having a very pleasant time.”
For a moment, Algernon could not read her expression.
It was almost as if she was disappointed in him- as if she had been hoping that he would be the final decision maker and tell her not to go.
Then suddenly a smile spread across her face, and the light returned to her eyes a moment before she turned her head back toward Henry.
“Very well then,” she agreed, and as Henry all but crowed with joy, Algernon felt something wither inside himself.
“Only if you promise to make it as enjoyable as you say you will,” Beatrice warned.
“You must truly be my escort. I would prefer not to be abandoned with so many people I do not know. And if I feel as if I have had too much excitement for the evening, you do not try to change my mind but allow me to go home.”
“I swear it, sweet Beatrice,” Henry hurriedly replied.
“You and I are going to have so much fun. I shall reach out to favorite seamstress and designer tomorrow, and they will meet us here, so we may begin styling our ensemble immediately. I was thinking we should align with the flower theme. Gorgeous blooms embroidered into pastels. Fabric flowers at our shoulders. Oh, we could fasten them to your hair!”
Algernon pressed his lips shut as his brother excitedly rambled on.
He could not speak. Not now. For if he did, he knew he’d demand Beatrice not go.
It was too soon after Simeon’s visit. So many things could go wrong.
Yet despite all of that, Algernon reminded himself that this was precisely what he had wanted and why he had forced himself to go to that awful auction that fated day he met Beatrice.