“I am so sorry, Thomas,” she began.“I should have been grateful for your help.It is only that I had this idea in my mind—that I would save Parkhorne.That it had to bemeto do it.”
“I should have told you.It was not my intention to upset you.”
She shook her head.“I know.I was so ridiculous.You saved my family from two men who made us prey to their vile scheme, and I repaid you with such venom.I can hardly live with myself when I think of it.”
“Darling—” He stepped forward again.
“No,” she said.“Not yet.Please.”
He stilled, all his hope hanging on that “not yet.”
“And you were right.About London.About me wanting to escape.I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else but Parkhorne, and yet I also think, in some way, I was dying there.I love my family but—I was lonely.My lovers, when I had them, didn’t know me.My family adored me, but I will always be first a daughter and a sister to them.I wanted to be more.But I didn’t know how to be.”
“And then Mr.Gordstone came with his threats.And I thought of all that I had read of London.You see, Thomas, I told you no one reads the scandal sheets at Parkhorne Hall, but that is a lie.Iread the scandal sheets.I read all about you before I ever met you.”
He would have been shocked, if he hadn’t spoken to Montaigne.Instead, he was merely fascinated.
“You read about me?”
“I did,” she said, crying and laughing both.“From the time I was sixteen, I read about you in the scandal sheets.This lord who had a different woman in his bed every two weeks.”
“A scoundrel.”
“Yes,” she said, with a little smile.“A man who knew what he wanted and got it.Again and again and again.”
Between the two of them then, a look of such knowingness passed that it took his breath away.They both knew that, when she had met him, he was not what he had appeared.Far from it.
“I must have disappointed you.”
“You shocked me.At first, I couldn’t believe you were real.You were just as handsome as the papers said.And then, when I realized you weren’t all that they had said, thatIcould teach you something, I was so gratified.”
“Once your outrage wore off,” he said, unable to suppress a grin at the memory of her dismay at his sexual proclivities, such as they had been.
She nodded.“Yes.You see, I admired you from afar.I fantasized idly for years, even before Gilchrist, about what it would be like to be one of your mistresses.To be paid to be bedded by one of the most desirable, most wicked men in London.”
Leith imagined a younger Beatrice, reading her scandal sheets, bathing in her copper tub at Parkhorne Hall, imagining such things.The idea was powerful and evocative and strange.It also made him a little sad—for he had been far from what her girlish fancy had envisioned.But then a pleasant thought occurred to him.
“You did not find me as you imagined me—but you made me into that man.”
“No,” she whispered.“In truth, once I came to know you, you were better than I ever could have imagined.More than I ever could have dreamed up.And then I dashed it all away.Because I am a fool.”
“I am here now,” he said, advancing on her again.This time, she did not flinch or evade him.He put his hands around her waist and pulled her towards him.
“Can you forgive me?”
“Of course, I forgive you.I’d forgive you anything.I love you beyond reason, Beatrice.”
She threw her arms around him and kissed him.He pulled her tighter and kissed her back, his hand tangling in her hair.His body somehow both calmed and fired at her nearness.Everything was righted now that she was back in his arms.
He broke the kiss and looked down at her, his beguiling, unusual darling.
“I do need to know another thing, my love,” he said, unable to stop the smirk playing on his lips.“I have been informed that you are not actually Monty’s cousin.”
Instantly, Beatrice blushed a deeper crimson than he had ever seen.In fact, he wasn’t sure hehadever seen her blush before, especially if this shade was what she looked like.
She buried her face into his chest.
“Come now,” he whispered into her ear.“It cannot be as embarrassing as all you have discovered of me.”
