Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Dietrich
The morning of the second ball dawned bright and early.
Dietrich was already tired. He’d been working more than usual to prepare the stables and pastures for double the number of horses they would usually house.
Fortunately, the nights were mild, and their outdoor shelters were sufficient to house the horses. But the logistics of feeding and managing that many horses was a lot, and he was ready for it to be over—and it hadn’t even started yet.
“I was wondering if you’d be out here,” a familiar voice said, and he turned to see Beatrice smiling up at him from the other side of the fence. She was resting her arms against it and seemed far too chipper for someone who had come to visit him.
“What do you want, Beatrice?” he asked.
“I need a favor,” she said.
Dietrich didn’t look at her. It had to be somehow related to the ball, and he wanted nothing to do with it.
It was bad enough that he had to deal with all the horses; he was not playing whatever game Beatrice decided she wanted.
Not happening.
“I need an escort,” she said.
“You have a husband,” Dietrich pointed out.
Beatrice sighed dramatically. “He had to go to Riyel,” she said, “leaving me all alone by myself, with no one to take me to the ball.”
“Go by yourself,” Dietrich said. “You’re nobility now. You can do that. You don’t need Alexander to take you.”
“You want me to brave a ball by myself without my husband?” Beatrice asked in mock outrage. “How uncouth!”
“Whatever that means,” Dietrich said. “That is exactly what I want you to do. You’re a grown-up. You can handle it. I believe in you.”
“I didn’t think you this unfeeling,” Beatrice said with an exaggerated sniff.
Dietrich rolled his eyes.
“You know that the fake attempts are only making it worse, right?” he asked.
“If you had a legitimate reason, then I might consider it. But you’re just trying to get me to go to the ball, and I have no interest in going.
Besides, I have all these horses to take care of,” he said, gesturing to the masses of animals scattered as far as the eye could see. “I don’t have time to go to a ball.”
“But you wouldn’t want me to be lonely, would you?” Beatrice asked. “After all, if you don’t go with me, I would be at the mercy of whatever gentleman decides to ask me to dance. And there’s no Alexander to cut in and save me if someone seems unsavory.”
Dietrich groaned. She had picked the one argument he couldn’t resist, and she knew it.
“You don’t need me to save you,” he tried.
But Beatrice batted her eyes at him. “I would hate to be left all alone if someone tried to take any liberties with me.”
“You know that’s not going to happen,” Dietrich said.
“Do you?” she asked. “This is my first ball. Have you ever been to one before?”
“We were just at one,” he said, “and you seemed to be fine there.”
Beatrice did not respond to his perfectly reasonable logic. “Yes, but my husband was there. This time, I’ll be all alone with no one to help me.”
“You don’t need help,” Dietrich pointed out.
“All alone,” she said, pretending to begin to tear up, giving him dramatic sniffles. “I don’t know how I will survive this evening.”
Dietrich simply stared at her as she continued to make dramatic noises. “You’re being ridiculous,” he said, “and you know it.”
“But you want to help me, don’t you?” she asked brightly.
“Not particularly, no.” He shook his head. “I want you to get out of my barn.”
Beatrice sighed, kicking at the fence near her feet. “I understand. I just wanted you there,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to go to a ball without my husband. This is my first real ball with nobility from Riyel, and I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t want to feel alone.”
Dietrich sighed and reached for her hand, covering it with his for a moment. “You should have led with that one.”
Beatrice looked up. “That one worked?” she asked.
“Was it fake?” he asked pointedly.
Beatrice shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “Maybe the tiniest bit, but I really am worried about my first ball without him. I felt like the last one was merely a practice run, and I don’t know what to do with all the nobility.”
“I don’t, either.”
“We could laugh at them?” Beatrice said with a question in her voice.
“Or they’ll be laughing at us,” Dietrich pointed out. “Do you care?”
“Not something I’m particularly interested in,” she admitted, “but I don’t want to leave Ella in a lurch, either. So you’ll come with me?”
“If I must,” Dietrich said with a sigh. “Now I need you to get out of here. I have a lot of horses to take care of before I go beg my men to handle all my work so I can take you to a ball. You’re not even my mother,” he muttered.
Beatrice’s eyes twinkled, and she leaned over the fence to blow a kiss at him. “You are the best,” she said.
“Apparently,” Dietrich said.
“I knew you wouldn’t leave me in a bind,” Beatrice said quietly. “Thank you.” The sincere tone made up for all the pretend issues earlier.
“You’re welcome,” Dietrich said, giving her a smile. Even when she annoyed him, she was still his honorary sister, and he would do just about anything for her—including, apparently, going to a ball where the woman he cared for would be dancing with everyone except him.
He sighed and went back to organizing the feeding of the horses.
Across the hall, Turnip eyed him curiously, and Dietrich frowned at the horse.
“What are you looking at?” he asked. “I’m just accompanying Beatrice to the ball. There’s no ulterior motive.”
He had no particular interest in seeing Ella in her element when he could not be part of her world—or hoping she would secretly change her mind and run away with him.
That was completely unrealistic, and he would never expect her to do that.
But if he was being completely honest with himself, he was still hoping it would happen.