Out of anyone currently beneath Primrose Park’s sloped slate roof, Jagger would be the one to scent something out-of-the-common with his and Beatrix’s relationship. “You should try getting to know your sister,” he said, under no obligation to give the man a direct answer. “You might like her.”
Jagger sniffed. “Lady High-and-Mighty would deign to favor a scoundrel like me with her attention?”
Dev took the response as one of insecurity, a self-protective instinct—and he didn’t have time for it. “She did for me. It’s who you are inhere”—he poked a finger into the center of Jagger’s chest—“that matters to Beatrix. That’s not to say she’ll just give you the time of day. You’ll have to earn it, but it’s worth it.Sheis worth it.”
That last part… It was absolutely true.
How much more interesting was his life since she’d entered it?
For his part, Jagger wasn’t ceding any conversational ground, but Dev knew he was collecting every word and adding them up.
He just had one more thing to say to the man. “It’s best if you get back to London.”
Jagger would understand it wasn’t a suggestion.
Dev wasn’t finished. “And take Lydon with you.”
A quick smile transformed Jagger’s features. “Now, that will cost you extra,” he said with a nod and wink of farewell.
Relief poured through Dev. He didn’t know how matters would turn out with Beatrix, but she would no longer have Jagger lurking in shadows.
He returned to the drawing room and found card play in full, lively swing. He knew even before a scan of the room confirmed it that Beatrix was gone. He felt the heat of several pairs of eyes upon him, but one in particular.
Imogen.
She’d saved a place beside her at the card table.
Even as he pretended not to notice and moved in the opposite direction, he questioned himself. He was on the verge of having everything he’d always wanted. Anticipation and excitement should’ve been thrumming through his veins.
Yet the only feeling he could conjure was a strange, dissatisfied emptiness. As if what he’d always wanted wasn’t actually what he wanted at all.
As if he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and kept hurtling headlong in the wrong direction.
Unsettled…rattled…shaken…These were new feelings for him.
He couldn’t help but notice when these feelings had been introduced into his life.
When Beatrix had entered it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
NEXT DAY
The rain had decided to make itself an uninvited guest and stay all through the night and into the morning, making it necessary to cancel all the day’s activities, which were to have taken place out of doors.
This was how Beatrix found herself—unexpectedly and improbably—stepping inside Deverill & Shaw Company, their steam engine manufacturing factory in Camden.
When she’d awakened this morning to the admittedly dreary day, the idea hadn’t yet formed. After midday tea, it was the Countess of Bridgewater who had spoken the fateful words. “Oh, I know what we can do. Let’s visit Dev’s—Mr. Deverill’s factory.”
Beatrix had kept her mouth shut and waited. Artemis had begged off and taken herself and Bathsheba to the stables. She’d needed to see for herself that the animals were being cared for properly. Most of the other ladies had been content to stay by the cozy fire, do needlework, and gossip. Many of the gentlemen were similarly engaged with billiards and cigars—and gossip, too, no doubt. Men weren’t immune to the seductive whisper of tittle-tattle. Besides, it gave them an excuse to imbibe spirits before evening tea.
Still, that left many in need of something to occupy them. Which was the only way Beatrix could explain the round of ready agreement to the countess’s proposal.
“It’s only a factory,” said Dev with an unbothered shrug. “I can’t imagine you’ll find anything of interest there.”
Lady Bridgewater glanced around the room, undeterred. “Raise your hand if you’ve ever been to a steam engine factory—or any factory at all, for that matter.”
Only Dev, Shaw, and Mrs. Shaw lifted their hands.
