Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Giovanni tried to calm himself down as he walked to Silas’s office. He wasn’t able to quite get rid of his temper and accidentally slammed the door behind him. Silas looked up from his work with raised eyebrows.
“My, my,” he said, shaking his head. “I see your glower has not improved.”
“My what?” Giovanni snapped, stalking across the room and sorting through the mail that had arrived for Silas that morning.
“Your visage is still as grumpy as before,” Silas gestured to Giovanni’s face, smirking unhelpfully. “I see that lovely Bess did nothing to improve your mood the other night.”
“Bess was an adequate company,” Giovanni said stiffly. “But not what I was looking for.”
“Since when did you become so specific in your desires?” Silas raised his eyebrows challengingly. “You clearly need to bed someone, so go and find someone to bed, lest you persist in stalking around my house like an angry wolf.”
“I saw that Lord Milton was visiting,” Giovanni said.
He didn’t want to bring it up, not really.
Speaking to Silas about Beatrice’s love life was so far from what he had intended for the day, but it was as if he couldn’t stop himself.
His mouth was working even as his mind begged him desperately to shut up.
“Should he really be having such unfettered access to Beatrice?”
“Unfettered? I’d hardly call it that,” Silas mused, his eyes more focused on the papers in front of him than his friend’s turbulent expression. “Anna was walking with them, and I was too, for a while.”
Giovanni could not stop himself from speaking; it was as if his furious fight in the garden with Beatrice was spilling over into his conversation with Silas.
“This is the first time he has called on her, yet they were already walking together!” Giovanni exclaimed. “That hardly seems appropriate.”
“Anna thought it was acceptable,” Silas mused. “I agreed.”
“She calls him Jasper!” Giovanni could barely speak the word. The idea of that level of familiarity was contemptible. “They have dropped the honorific already. Won’t he think they are promised to one another?”
“I doubt he will engage such notions before he has discussed the matter with me,” Silas said lightly. “He and I have a meeting arranged at my club in a week.”
“A week?”
Giovanni’s heart dropped. Only a week. In a week, Beatrice might be promised to another man. It was much too soon. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he would ever be ready.
“And you think you will accept him? As a suitor?” Giovanni swallowed hard, staring at Silas carefully. How could he deter his friend from making this commitment so quickly without giving away his reasons?
“Yes,” Silas didn’t look up from his papers.
It was clear that the notion of discussing a match for Beatrice with the viscount was not as shocking or surprising to him as it was to Giovanni.
“His title is over two centuries years old, he has an excellent lineage. Not to mention he is young, vigorous, wealthy, and Beatrice likes him.”
Each item on the list made Giovanni wince.
The viscount was indeed all of those things.
Giovanni could offer nothing of notable comparison.
He was handsome and fit, but whilst he was comparably vigorous, he was not as young, and being arguably more handsome and healthy were not qualities enough in his favor to swing the preferences of a girl like Beatrice, or a man like Silas.
“And what if he should offer a proposal?” Giovanni pressed. “Would you agree?”
“I should certainly be a fool not to entertain it,” Silas said, finally looking up at him and frowning slightly. “You seem very perturbed. Do you still have concerns about Lord Milton’s character?”
“I have concerns about the speed of his courtship,” Giovanni exclaimed. “In a mere week, he moves from stranger to potential husband.”
“But that is how these things work,” Silas said calmly. He stood up, shuffling his papers. “Anna has been considering him as an option for many months now, sending letters to his mother. I have met his father once or twice. I think they shall be a fine family to join with.”
“But—”
“Giovanni, do we really need to spend any longer discussing my sister’s prospects? We have work to do,” Silas snapped, suddenly glaring at him. Giovanni knew he would have to be careful now; he couldn’t risk Silas working out the depths of his feelings.
“Of course not, it is only… I am not convinced that he is good enough for our Beatrice.” Giovanni said, dropping his eyes to his boots. He hoped that using such brotherly tones would divert Silas’s attention from the deeper cause of his anger.
“I know,” Silas sighed, and Giovanni knew he had convinced him. “No one truly will be. Perhaps a prince, and even then, I would be unsure.”
If Silas would struggle to even approve of a prince, what hope did Giovanni have?
Even if he were to find the strength within him to declare himself to Beatrice completely, how would he ever present himself to Silas?
There was no way in heaven or earth that Silas would approve of Giovanni as a match for his only sister.
Giovanni stared at his feet, wishing, not for the first time, that he had been born under different circumstances.
“But she needs to marry, Gio, and I will make sure she is not left on the shelf for some rogue to scoop up. I will make a good match for her this season. I am quite determined in this.”
There was nothing Giovanni could say. Silas’s determination was formidable and unchangeable. He nodded mutely and Silas, satisfied, nodded too.
“You have a look at the correspondence,” Silas said, “I am going to check in with my wife and see if the viscount left any messages.”
Giovanni watched him go, feeling certain that Silas would have some choice words for him when he returned.
Anna would tell him about all she had seen in the garden.
The fight she had witnessed, Giovanni and Beatrice screaming at one another in the garden, and the viscount, feeling too uncomfortable under Giovanni’s gaze to stay.
Well, if he were more of a man, a man suitable for Beatrice, then he would have stayed and stood his ground, wouldn’t he? Giovanni thought, grimly taking the letter opener and slicing through the wax seal with a little too much vigor. Beatrice’s words ran round and around in his head.
It’s my decision if I allow a suitor the intimacy of my first name, not yours! You’ve made that abundantly clear already!
He knew what she had meant; he had seen in her eyes how she regretted the rashness of her words as soon as she had spoken them.
They revealed too much. She accused him of being uncaring, of disregarding his role as a friend, and Giovanni couldn’t fault her.
It was none of his business who her suitor was.
Yet he could not quell the rage inside him when he had heard another man call her by her name.
Or when she spoke the viscount’s first name so eagerly. Jasper.
He shook his head, trying to dislodge his fury.
He had to find a way to put it aside. Soon, Lord Milton would be allowed such intimacies with Beatrice that he could only dream of.
Her warm lips against his. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Giovanni scrunched a letter tight in his fist. It was unbearable.
He heard the door opening and sighed heavily, steeling himself for Silas’s anger.
“Silas, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get involved?—”
“It’s me.”
Giovanni’s head shot up. Beatrice was standing in the doorway. Her demeanor was unsure, one hand resting on the frame, but her eyes were still fierce.
“I want to talk to you.”
She looked so beautiful. She had removed her pelisse when she came inside, and now Giovanni could admire the perfect peacock-blue gown against her alabaster skin. No. Stop it. He looked back down at his papers.
“I’m sorry, now is not a good time.”
“Well, make it one,” Beatrice snapped, closing the door behind her with a loud click. Giovanni’s throat tightened as he saw her fingers flick the lock.
Dear God, they were locked in together. It was his best fantasy and his worst nightmare rolled into one.
“You should unlock that,” Giovanni tried to keep his voice level, aware of how hard and distant he sounded. “Your brother might get the wrong idea.”
“I don’t want us to be interrupted,” Beatrice said, eyes flashing. “After that performance in the garden, I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I owe you an explanation?” Giovanni kept his voice low, determined not to shout. The last thing he wanted was for Silas to overhear. “I was not the one cavorting inappropriately with a gentleman I barely know.”
“That is pure insanity, and I think you know it,” Beatrice glared at him, her back pressed against the door as if she was determined to both block his escape and stop any intruders.
She was the most wilful girl Giovanni had ever known.
He would have admired her at that moment if she were not so incredibly frustrating.
“What should I know?” Giovanni asked sarcastically, angrily ripping open another letter and staring down at it, barely seeing the words on the page.
He was very aware of his body suddenly, how heavy his hands felt and how hard his heart was beating.
Unhelpfully, he could not stop himself from remembering the sensation of Beatrice’s fingers laced into his hair.
“I am only an uncivilized brute, according to you. I am only a low-mannered beast set to ruin your prospects.”
“If you do not wish to be called such things then do not act like them,” Beatrice hissed furiously, taking a step forward.
Giovanni resisted the urge to take a step back.
He had to keep as much distance between them as possible.
If she came within arm’s reach, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from grabbing onto her.