He had known he felt this way when he had declared his intentions to her brother, even though he had known thatshethought he hadn’t meant it.He had meant to ease into the topic, to perhaps wait until they returned to London, and she knew him better, before making any declaration.
But his own body had forced his hand—his body and Beatrice with a riding crop.
It was, really, rather ridiculous.
“Thank you,” she said.“I am not sure.I need to think about it.About everything.With my mother and Mr.Gordstone—”
“Shh,” he said.“Don’t answer now.I only want you to think of it.”
They had plenty of time, he reasoned, and he was in no rush.
As long as he didn’t lose her, as long as he got to keep holding her like this, he was content to wait.
Chapter Thirty-Four
That evening wasone of the happiest of Beatrice’s life thus far.
Mr.Gordstone remained banished in his rooms, claiming that he was ill.
And her mother hosted a party of sorts—for herself and Leith and her siblings and Mrs.Westmore.She had the cook make up a dinner that, while not lavish by London standards, was definitely festive at Parkhorne.
Malcolm brought his fiddle and played some of the airs that Mrs.Westmore and her mother liked.And Philip convinced them all to play charades in the drawing room.
Leith participated in it all, without even a shadow of the hauteur she had seen him display upon their first meeting.Instead, he was as warm and fond of everyone as if he had grown up in a little wayside village like theirs.
As the pleasant evening continued, Beatrice thought over his proposal.She was not sure how she could accept it.But she had to admit that she was tempted.That she loved him, she no longer doubted, although she hadn’t told him that fact, yet.And if she agreed to be his wife, it would make her feel less guilty about him paying the debt.
But the thought of leaving Parkhorne made her heart ache.Besides her brief time in London, Parkhorne was her world.And she did not understand how she could leave it.For, if she married Leith, leave it she must.He had his home in London—and his other estates besides.The future that she had imagined for herself, living at Parkhorne with her siblings, would disappear.
She told herself not to worry about such things now.Instead, she enjoyed the sight of Leith delighting her younger brothers with his stories of him and his friends’ escapades.Even Malcom seemed to warm to him.
Sally and Charles joined in the merriment, but it was clear that they were preoccupied with one another.After dinner and then charades, they settled into a corner, their eyes only on one another.
And then Fred Larkin appeared on the other side of the room.
Beatrice’s blood ran cold.She held her breath for the scene that she imagined was about to unfold.
But Fred merely greeted her mother and then walked over to her sister and Charles with a smile.
“You look worried,” Leith said, next to her, as she watched Sally and the two men.
“Iamworried.She is supposed to be engaged to Fred.She told me herself!But she has been bedding Charles.I do not understand it.”
“Perhaps she and Fred had some sort of agreement.She thought she would be gone from Somerset for a long while.”
“I suppose it is possible,” she said, watching them all still.“Although I fear that Fred merely has no idea who Charles is to her yet.”
“The young people will sort it out,” Leith said.“And if they don’t—well, they are young enough to recover.Unlike myself.”
She turned back to him, amused by his self-assessment.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, if I lose you, Beatrice, I know I will never recover.”
She tutted, pretending to be exasperated by his devotion, even though, in truth, it flattered and pleased her.“You will not lose me.I am yours.”
“I love to hear you say that.Almost as much as I love you.”
