Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
No more commands to give?
Algernon had been commanding her entire life since he’d brought her his home. Beatrice’s mind whirled as she realized that her life had been entirely coordinated by his commands. To eat, to sleep, to learn, to dress—had all been dictated by his decisions. And now, suddenly, he was out of commands?
Beatrice studied him intently as he stood by the bed. In that moment, she hated how handsome he looked, naked and bathed in the moonlight. What she hated more though was the look of loss on his face.
“Was I wrong?” she asked.
Algernon slowly raised his head to meet her eyes, his gaze clouded with something akin to hurt.
“About what?” he asked in a grave tone.
Beatrice sat up a little straighter and pulled the sheet tighter around her form. Her throat and heart ached from the pent-up sobs wanting to get out, but she refused to let them take over.
“When I first arrived here, we spoke of what was going to happen to me,” she replied, her voice tight as she restrained her emotion with all her might. “I asked if I was to be your mistress, and you looked offended by the question.”
The look of hurt etched on Algernon’s face grew more intense, and he winced.
“I never planned—you were never meant to be my—” Algernon rubbed his face wearily.
He looked around then went to his trousers and pulled them on.
“My feelings for you came rushed and unbidden,” he confessed. “I told myself the lessons I was teaching you were important to capture my brother’s attention, and I think for a time that was true. At least in part.
“But the real truth is every time I touched you, it was because I could not help myself. I was—am drawn to you in most damning way. And that was wrong of me. So very wrong because from the start I wanted—I coordinated—I pushed for you and Henry to marry despite his aversions to such relationships. Now, he has agreed to marry you, and here I am, the only person standing in his way.”
It took Beatrice several long moments to wrap her head and heart around everything Algernon had just confessed.
Algernon had admitted to feeling something for her—something she had not expected him to do.
However, she was only granted a second to relish in his admission before he shattered her hope with the knowledge that Henry had agreed to marry her.
“I did not know,” she whispered, feeling her heart being pulled in several directions at once. She felt her eyes begin to water as she continued starting at Algernon’s pained expression. “About any of it.”
“I was planning on telling you soon,” Algernon replied. “He spoke his intentions at the ball, but I wanted to meet with him one more time to make sure he was serious.”
“I see,” Beatrice rasped.
“And this marriage intention you speak of—was I going to be asked at all? Or because you purchased me, does that mean you are simply selling me once again as a piece of property?”
“Beatrice, no.” Algernon’s deep voice was thick with emotion as he reached for her.
She flinched as his hands drew close, and as he froze at her reaction, she took the opportunity to leave his bed.
His bed. That she had willingly come to.
Beatrice flushed, enraged at her own foolishness.
“Of course, Henry is going to ask you properly, and of course, you may answer how you wish,” Algernon hurried to explain, “but my brother, despite all of his favorable qualities can be a bit… impulsive with his decisions. I wanted to ensure that he was serious about taking care of you before he asked you to marry him as I did not want him to make you feel hopeful and then let you down by changing his mind.”
“No, you did that, Algernon,” she bit out. “You hurt me.”
Algernon flinched back, as if she had just slapped him hard across the face. Guilt surged through Beatrice so quickly that she had to look away.
“It is my fault,” she choked out, shaking her head. “From the beginning, you told me that these were just lessons. It was I that started to believe that they were something else.”
“They did turn into something else,” Algernon insisted, “and that is the problem. I was never supposed to be—we were never supposed to—”
“Get this close?” Beatrice finished for him, sparing a hurt glance his way.
The pain in his eyes mirrored in her own as he silently nodded.
“And you do not want me?” she whispered. “At least not beyond these little stolen moments.”
“That is not true,” Algernon sighed, shaking his head wearily. “But my brother needs you more than I do. This marriage will protect him.”
“From what?” Beatrice demanded, caught somewhere between rage and heartache. “You keep saying things like that about Henry, but what is it exactly a marriage will protect him from?”
Algernon looked tortured as he slowly shook his head.
“I cannot tell you,” he whispered after a long moment of silence. “He needs—”
“He needs to be the one to tell me,” she cut him off angrily. “I am aware. You say it so very often.”
She hurried over to her nightgown.
“Look away,” she commanded.
“Beatrice, please wait,” Algernon implored, taking a step toward her with his arms outstretched. “None of this is coming out properly. I—”
“I said look away!” she snapped loudly.
Algernon’s mouth shut with a sneer upon his lips, but he turned his back to her. Hurriedly, Beatrice exchanged the bed sheet for her nightgown, and without a word, she began walking toward the door. She had it open barely an inch before Algernon’s hand appeared above hers, and he pushed it shut.
Tears sprouted from Beatrice’s eyes as she whirled on him, hating how quickly body warmed by being so close to his.
“Let me out,” she seethed through gritted teeth.
“I do not want things to end this way between us,” Algernon insisted, his green eyes imploring her to listen. “Please, Beatrice, I know I made some mistakes, but I want us to try to remain friends.”
“Friends?” she hissed, her tears starting to trickle down her cheeks. Her chest felt like it was about to burst with how much she wanted to scream. Her throat begged to let out her sobs.
Through it all, she did her best to draw in a breath, and the sound was ragged and raw.
“We were never friends,” she rasped. “We could never be friends. I was—am—just a purchase to you, remember? I was—am—just a game piece for you to move around as you saw fit. Well, congratulations. You seem to have won your game.”
“Beatrice,” Algernon implored, his deep voice raw with emotion.
The pain in his voice only added to her own, and she could not take it anymore.
“Let me leave, Algernon,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the tears now trekking down her cheeks.
“I have not asked for one thing since you brought me here, so please do this for me now. I need to…” she paused, drawing in another ragged breath as her heart shuddered painfully. “I need to get away from you.”
Pride had made her bold enough to speak her mind sharply, but now, as her heart felt shredded and her head ached with so many thoughts, she felt it slip away as her chin begin to wobble.
“Please,” she pleaded softly then her first sob broke loose.
It was small, stifled quickly by her hand, but still, as it slipped out, Algernon looked at her as if she’d stuck a knife in his chest. Through watery eyes, she watched as his handsome face contorted into a tortured expression. Then he pushed away from the door and took two steps back.
He drew his bottom lip between his teeth as he glanced red-rimmed eyes away from her and nodded. Everything about him was stiff. Every muscle on his glorious body tightened with tension. He did not even appear to breathe.
“I am sorry, Beatrice.”
The four words he released sounded as tortured and unstable as he appeared, and they ripped through Beatrice’s heart.
She wanted to make things better. Craved it even.
Yet she knew she could not. To try would be torture for her, for even as he appeared in as much pain as she was, he was not going to change his mind.
Without answering, Beatrice opened the door and fled back to her rooms, each step warning her that her strength to keep everything inside was starting to fade.
She let out a ragged sob as she reached her door, and she held her breath, not wanting anything else to come out before she was in the privacy of her room.
Once the door was shut though, she put her back to it and slid down to her bottom as she drew in a deep breath, and a terrible sound of agony left her throat as her trickle of tears turned into a flood.