Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Of course, I am,” Beatrice whispered, and Algernon shuddered with desire at the breathiness of her tone.
He was playing with fire. No, he was dancing within its flames, purposely drawing himself to the burns that would no doubt come, but in that moment it did not matter.
What mattered was keeping Beatrice distracted from the negativity that was slowly taking over the crowded ball.
Simeon had been right. His rumors had spread viciously quick.
Far quicker than the positive ones Algernon or Henry had tried to spread.
That was the way the rumor mill of the ton worked though. The good was buried. The bad was praised. Anything to distract society from their bored lives. He hated them.
“When is Henry coming back?” The slight worry in Beatrice’s breathy tone had a pain slice through his chest.
He might hate the ton, but he did not hate his brother.
However, he was growing increasingly frustrated with him.
Particularly for breaking his promise to Beatrice though the fact that he had so openly lied to her did not sit well with him either.
Algernon knew his brother. Knew him well enough to assume that he would not be seen for the rest of the night as he took care of his ‘business.’
Still, as much as he was aggravated with Henry, Algernon knew he could not tell Beatrice the truth either. It was Henry that had to confess, not him, as much as he wanted her to know the truth.
“Business matters can unfortunately arise at any time and take many hours,” Algernon begrudgingly replied. “It is likely that we will not see him for the rest of the night.”
To his surprise, Beatrice looked relieved to hear such a thing.
It was not an apparent expression, not openly identified by just anyone, just to someone who had studied her face as very carefully as he had.
The subtle lowering of her shoulders, the slight lean into his hold as they finished the dance.
The little crease above her brow that smoothed out. He saw it all.
“I am happy you have had a good time this evening,” Algernon stated, leading her into the final step of the dance, “You have handled this party such beautiful grace. There is no shame in leaving it early. Going home and resting instead of taking the chance of letting the night sour for some reason or another.”
This time, as they bowed to another to finish the dance, Beatrice’s relief was quite evident.
“I should like that very much,” she replied earnestly, “You are right. I have had a good time. However, I did not realize how much energy it takes to appear so happy and carefree for so many hours. It is even less easy without Henry’s cheerful encouragement.”
Algernon took no offense to her explanation.
‘Cheerful’ was not an emotion he was overly familiar with, and he had no doubt that Henry’s bubbly nature and dramatic praise could indeed make a nervous woman feel more at ease.
He was simply glad that Henry had helped ease some of Beatrice’s stress, even if it was temporary.
“Let us take our leave then,” Algernon replied, doing his best to use his body to block out as many of the other guests that he could.
He could not tell at that point which way the gossip seemed to be flowing, but either way, he did not want Beatrice to hear a single word of it.
He just wanted to get her home, and he certainly wished to do the same for himself.
With his hand at the small of Beatrice’s back, he led her through the crowd, making light conversation about anything he could think of so that she would remain facing him as they walked out of the ballroom and toward the carriages.
The ride home was quiet. Blissfully so. It was if both needed to take a moment to lower their defenses and simply sink into the cushions of the elegant carriage.
It was vastly different than the last ride they had shared alone when he had brought her home from the auction and had dragged her into a situation that was quickly becoming a mess.
A mess that would only end once she was married to Henry.
Only then would the rumors do her no harm.
“Tomorrow, we resume your lessons,” Algernon informed her as walked with her up the stairs of his quiet home.
“We will focus on the art of conversation. Discuss which topics are appropriate to converse on, which ones are not, and how to move the conversation away from questions about your personal life if any should arise.”
He could have sworn he saw a look of disappointment briefly flitter across Beatrice’s face as they reached her room, but as they stopped, she merely said ‘very well then.’
He gave her a gruff nod, ignoring the steadily rising desire to take her in his arms and provide comfort another way, and took a step back.
“Thank you, Algernon, for bringing me home,” Beatrice said softly, making him pause.
He turned to her and gave her another curt nod.
“Of course,” he replied, and though he did not quite want to, added, “And do try to find forgiveness for my brother’s rather abrupt departure. It was not proper, but I am very certain that he did not do so to cause you discomfort.”
Her smile in return was small, and he felt another pain lash through his chest when her cobalt blue eyes remained tired and dim.
“Of course, I forgive him,” she answered tiredly. “He is an important man. A duke's brother. I suppose if we are to marry, then I should grow accustomed to such sudden departures.”
Algernon’s discomfort grew as he continued to harbor his brother’s secrets. However no matter how much he wanted to tell her, it was not his story to tell. He could only hope that Henry was man enough—or trusted Beatrice enough—to confess to her the type of man he truly was.
“Sleep well, little cake,” he said, not able to help himself from throwing one last, small barb at her ensemble.
He was instantly glad that he did, for this time Beatrice’s smile was genuine, and her cobalt eyes positively glittered with an equal amount of annoyance and mirth.
“You as well, you brooding giant,” she replied.
Algernon could not help himself. He chuckled. He bowed his head toward her, acknowledging her equal wit, and went to his own quarters.