“The very same,” said Mrs. Fairfax.
A few seconds passed while they all gave him an up-and-down appraisal.
“Rather sure of himself,” observed Lady Saskia.
“I would think so,” said Mrs. Fairfax. “Considering his reputation.”
Lady Viveca canted her head. “What’s that sparkling in his ear?”
“A diamond, presumably,” said Artemis. If it wasn’t paste, the gemstone was the largest diamond she’d ever seen that wasn’t part of a royal crown.
“Oh, I rather like that.” Lady Viveca looked as if she had more to say. “It’s …interesting.”
Two ticks of the clock passed before Mrs. Fairfax said, “Saskia? Viveca? Shall we fetch ourselves a glass of refreshing punch?” The question was asked so smoothly that one might not suspect she was attempting to distract her young charges’ attention away from the too-interesting Mr. Blaze Jagger.
With the departure of the ladies, Artemis turned to find Beatrix’s gaze fixed steadily upon her. “There is something I need to tell you,” said her friend.
It was only now that Artemis noticed Beatrix had been quiet during the entire exchange about Blaze Jagger. “Of course.”
Beatrix inhaled deeply and exhaled. “There is no way to say this, except to say it.”
Artemis found her muscles bunching as if bracing for impact. “Is everything all right between you and Deverill?”
Beatrix took a step closer and glanced around, furtively. “Blaze Jagger is my brother,” she said in a whispered rush.
Artemis’s eyebrows shot toward the ceiling. “Yourbrother?”
Beatrix nodded. “From the other side of the blanket, yes.”
As one, they turned to take him in with this new information between them. A young, handsome, cocky upstart was what this room would see. But also a man in business with the Duke of Acaster and the Marchioness of Ormonde. A man who not only managed the vices of others, but who also had access to power.
A man who couldn’t be ignored.
“He’s carved out quite a place for himself, hasn’t he?”
A dry laugh escaped Beatrix. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. He’s a handful.” She added, thoughtfully, “I’m enjoying getting to know him.”
A sudden surge of emotion had Artemis pulling Beatrix in for another hug. “I’m happy for you, my friend.”
Beatrix was, at last, getting the life she deserved.
The suddenting-ting-tingof metal striking crystal cut through the din of the room. “The race is set to begin, if everyone would like to take their places at the balcony,” came the rich baritone of a footman Richmond must have chosen expressly for the occasion.
Artemis and Beatrix moved to the first balcony that overlooked the starting line. As the Epsom Downs race course was in the shape of a horseshoe, Prinny’s Stand was designed with balconies to all three sides, so one would miss no part of the race.
“Do you like Little Wicked’s odds today?” asked Artemis. Beatrix’s husband had infamously won the filly in a card game.
“Oh, she’s a sweet little goer,” said Beatrix, her gaze fixed on the starting line. “She will take it to Hannibal, that’s for certain.”
A chord of loss echoed through Artemis.Dido.She, too, had been a sweet little goer. Too suddenly, her time had ended.
What you suffered from the loss of Dido wasn’t insignificant.
Bran’s words.
You didn’t take it as a lesson to close yourself off … I admire that about you.
More of his words.
