Beth held on to cool composure and just looked a question at herhusband-to-be. What could have brought him to seek her out? The answer wasthe duchess.
“My mother asked me to bring this to you,” he said, offering a copy ofAckerman Repository.“She has apparently mentioned to you somedesigns for a wedding gown.”
Beth had no enthusiasm for choosing such a gown and took the magazinewith limp fingers. “Thank you.”
The marquess looked at Mr. Westall, skimming through bound copies oftheAnnual Register.“Perhaps you would like to drive, MissArmitage?” he said at last.
“No, my lord, I don’t think I would,” said Beth firmly. Surely hecouldn’t believe she and Mr. Westall...
Of course he could. With frozen features he sat in a heavy librarychair and prepared to watch their every move. Though the back of her neckprickled, Beth forced herself to take up the business of helping thesecretary. She saw Mr. Westall cast one or two nervous glances in themarquess’s direction and wondered if she were being fair to the secretary.He, after all, was an employee here and could be easily dismissed. The onething of which Beth could be sure was that no one was going to cast herout of Belcraven.
She could not bear to quiver into submissive silence under themarquess’s glare, however, and when she came upon a relevant article shetook it over to the secretary.
“See, here is an account of a steam carriage in use in a Yorkshiremine. It could be of interest.”
“Indeed it could,” he said, taking it. “And here is an article aboutTrevithick which must be the one the duke had in mind. Thank you, MissArmitage.”
Clutching his volumes, Mr. Westall left, clearly relieved to escape theatmosphere in the room.
Beth turned to look stonily at the marquess. “There,” she said, “not alascivious moment.”
He rose with slow arrogance. “I will tell Westall he is not to be herealone with you again.”
Beth was so angry it took a moment for her to get words out. She wasstill spluttering, “You ? you ?” when he left the room. Ferociously sheslammed a glass door shut and a crack shot out from the beveled edge. Shelooked at it with horror. “Heavens above,” she whispered, “what does oneof those cost?”
Then she remembered she had no need to fret about such things.Willy-nilly she was one of the family. She walked briskly to the centertable and rang the bell there.
Promptly, a footman entered.
“A piece of glass has cracked,” she said. “Please inform someone so itmay be fixed, Thomas.” All the footmen were known as Thomas when on duty.It simplified things a great deal.
“Yes, Miss Armitage,” said the young man with a slightly startled lookand left. Beth realized it was the first time she’d addressed a member ofthe staff with the crisp arrogance of one born to it. She didn’t know ifthat was progress or defeat.
She knew she still felt embarrassment that the footman might have heardor guessed some of what had happened here but then she shrugged. She hadsoon come to realize that the only way to endure life at Belcraven was topretend the servants were wooden dummies.
It occurred to her that she would, in fact, be much happier as aservant at Belcraven rather than one of the family. An upper servant, ofcourse. The housekeeper or at least one of the senior maids. Then shecould spend the evenings discussing the strange goings-on among the ducalfamily and relax and be herself.
It only later dawned on her that she had been given an opportunity tospeak to the marquess and clear up the matter of her morals and had thrownit away.
The duchess’s maneuvers had failed and so the duke took a hand. Duringan eveningen famille,he looked sternly at his heir. “The notice is in thepapers, Arden,” he said, passing over a copy of theGazette.“It is time to formally introduce your bride to ourpeople here.”
“As you will, sir,” drawled the marquess in a bored voice, with onlythe briefest glance at the newspaper. He had been reading a book and kepthis finger in his place.
“Don’t doubt my will,” said the duke coldly. “There is to be areception for the tenants and a ball for our neighbors. You may expect agreat many callers. You and Elizabeth will greet them together and behaveappropriately.”
Beth could see the marquess tense as he looked over at the duke. Shewondered if he would rebel, but he merely repeated in a mechanical voice,“As you will, sir.”
The duke’s face became tinged with anger, and the duchess hastilyintervened. “Even the servants think your behavior peculiar, Lucien. Youare supposed to be in love. Besides, how are you and Elizabeth to come toan understanding if you avoid each other?”
The marquess smiled at Beth, a smile that could have frozen the oceans.“I believe Elizabeth and I have come to understand each other very well,maman.”
The duchess looked helplessly between the two of them.
“Tomorrow,” stated the duke, “you will take Elizabeth on a tour of thehouse and estate, Arden, and explain it to her.”
The two men stared at one another, and Beth saw the duke silentlypromise retribution if the marquess repeated his abrasive “As you will.”The silence stretched beyond bearing.
Then the marquess turned to her, impersonally courteous. “Of course,”he said. “What time will be convenient, Elizabeth?”
