Chapter 7 #2
It was another step forward. A step that she had not yet afforded any other suitor or potential caller.
The exchange of first names was an intimacy only courting couples engaged in—something that they only used in private, never in public.
She had never called a man she was not related to by his first name, except for servants. Or Giovanni.
She had the strangest feeling suddenly of the world speeding up around her.
No matter how long she and Anna had prepared for the strange, supposedly magical moment when a stranger turned into a potential husband, it still felt as if it was coming too fast. She didn’t know if she was ready for this.
Yet she had no choice. Decisions had been made.
She knew that Anna and Silas had already had a conversation about the suitability of this man for her.
She trusted them. Besides this, the viscount was kind, generous and friendly.
Those were all good qualities to find in a husband.
Beatrice knew many young women had to put up with much less.
Just because he wasn’t Giovanni did not mean he could not make her happy.
“I would be honored,” she said, smiling at him but feeling a strange coldness inside. “You may call me Beatrice… Jasper.”
“I think he will make his intentions known,” Anna whispered to her husband, squeezing his arm tightly. “He is clearly already besotted.”
“He seems a good sort of man,” Silas said, and Anna rolled her eyes. She knew that was high praise from her husband, a man who would think a prince too low for his only sister. “But I am afraid I must head back inside now, my love. I have work to attend to. Giovanni will be arriving soon.”
Silas pressed a tender kiss to Anna’s forehead and Anna smiled up at her husband. How lucky she was to have found perfect felicity in marriage!
“I shall watch them closely, do not worry,” she reassured him teasingly. “No action shall go unnoticed.”
“Oh, you laugh at me now, but just wait until Caleb is of marriageable age,” Silas said, a mock frown on his forehead.
He shook his head playfully. “When our firstborn son is of age, you shall be the one watching every look and gesture. Why, you shall strike fear in the hearts of all the ladies of the Ton!”
Anna swatted at him playfully with her parasol and then blew him a kiss as he turned and walked back inside.
She looked back to the courting couple, who stood respectfully apart from one another but were clearly very engaged in conversation.
Lord Milton couldn’t take his eyes off Beatrice, and Anna smiled indulgently.
Beatrice was beautiful, and growing more beautiful every day, her eyes sparkling in a way that promised both mischief and delight.
At that moment, however, Beatrice’s eyes were focused somewhere else.
Giovanni had come in through the garden gate and had stopped short of walking straight up to the house when he saw the courting couple.
Then, seeming to jerk back into action, he strode purposefully toward Beatrice.
Sensing turbulence, Anna walked closer, too. She didn’t want to interrupt, but at the same time, she was hoping Giovanni wouldn’t derail her carefully arranged match. Finding a potential suitor acceptable to both Silas and Beatrice had taken months.
“Good afternoon, Lord Milton,” she heard Giovanni say loudly.
She saw how Giovanni gave the viscount only the curtest of bows, and frowned.
There was something strange in Giovanni’s manner.
He was usually the most open and charming of men, yet he glared at the viscount with such a fearsome glower that Anna was surprised the other man did not quail away from it.
“Lord Milton has come to call, and to deliver flowers,” Beatrice was saying, speaking to Giovanni as if she needed to placate him in some way, as if he, too, needed convincing as to the worthiness of her suitor.
Anna reasoned that it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for Giovanni to feel brotherly defensiveness over Beatrice. Giovanni had always been protective of her ever since they were children. It was his way. He was protective of Anna, too, since she had married Silas.
Yet as Anna loitered unnoticed at the edge of the group, she took stock of Giovanni’s behavior.
His curt words, his persistent stares. She noticed the stiffness in Giovanni’s stance, the way he consistently diverted his gaze to Beatrice’s face, and she wondered if what she was seeing was more than protectiveness.
“Well, it has been lovely to see you, Beatrice,” Lord Milton bowed low over Beatrice’s hand. “I hope I shall have the pleasure of your company again soon.”
Anna internally celebrated the subtle intimacy in his words. Beatrice had clearly given him permission to address her by her first name, a huge step on Beatrice’s account.
“Thank you, My Lord,” Beatrice curtsied gently, and Anna had a moment of sweet recollection as she remembered teaching Beatrice how to curtsy when she was coming out into society. The viscount approached Anna and bowed low to her.
“I hope I shall see you at Lady Launtner’s garden party next week,” he said, his eyes naturally darting back towards Beatrice, standing stiffly beside Giovanni.
To Anna, it looked like she was teetering on the edge of an angry rage but was holding it back whilst in the viscount’s presence.
Her eyes were darting towards Giovanni, and Anna felt sure that the poor man had an earful coming his way as soon as Lord Milton was gone.
“Oh yes,” Anna said, gesturing towards the house and surreptitiously guiding him away from Beatrice and her impending fury. “Beatrice will definitely be in attendance.”
“Good.” The viscount looked relieved by this answer, but didn’t linger any longer. With a nervous glance back over his shoulder towards Giovanni, he had a footman fetch his hat and left.
Anna gave a sigh of relief but frowned. What had Giovanni done to put Lord Milton so on edge?
When she returned to the garden, she got her answer.
Beatrice and Giovanni stood about two feet apart and yelled at each other.
Anna groaned inwardly. Both of them were passionate, hot-blooded people who never backed down from a fight.
When they got in an argument, it usually turned heated in a millisecond.