“These dresses are just a bit too long,” Beatrice said, smoothing her free hand over the front of the beautiful gown she wore. He recognized it as another one of his mother’s.
“I see,” he said. “My mother must have been just a little taller than you.”
“This was your mother's?” she asked, looking down at the gown with new appreciation. “She had very good taste.”
“Yes, she did,” Alexander said fondly. “It was always said she was one of the best-dressed in a room, though I'm sure her dresses are out of fashion now.”
Beatrice shook her head. “I don't care if they are out of fashion. I'm honored to wear something so beautiful, especially since it was worn by your mother.”
Alexander's heart warmed at her words. “Thank you,” he said gruffly, resting his free hand on hers where it laid on his arm. “I agree. You are beautiful.”
Beatrice looked up at him, her eyes wide, and he realized what he had just said. But he couldn't bring himself to take the words back. Even if he hadn’t meant to say them, it was true. She was beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, the top braided in an intricate pattern.
“Was the maid Mrs. Jenkins assigned to you helpful?” he asked, gesturing to her hair. “I'm assuming this is her handiwork.”
“It is,” Beatrice said with a smile. “Guinevere is lovely. Thank you. I have no doubts that we will get along wonderfully.”
“I'm glad to hear it,” Alexander said. “Shall we go to breakfast?”
“We shall. But first, I have a confession,” Beatrice said, looking up at him with a winning smile. “I am rather glad that you heard me fall and came out.”
“So I could help you up?” he asked.
Beatrice shook her head. “No, that was a lovely side benefit. But…I couldn't remember how to get to the dining room, even though I told Guinevere that I did.”
Alexander’s lips quirked up. “Why didn't you ask her to show you?” he asked.
Beatrice shrugged as they entered the dining room. “I don't know,” she said. “By the time I realized what I had told her, it was too late. She was already gone, so I just found the stairs and hoped that from there, I would somehow remember my way to the dining room.”
Alexander fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, he had picked the most independent woman he could find to be his bride. It was a trait that would serve her well in her new position, although it might make for some interesting situations as they came to know each other in the days to come.
“I'm glad I was able to assist you,” he said, as he ushered her to the seat at the foot of the table that she’d used the previous night and pulled it out for her. His hand brushed against her hair as she sat and he pushed in the seat, the chestnut strands sliding over his hand smoothly.
What would it feel like to run his fingers through her hair?
He jerked his hand back and walked across the dining room to the head of the table. He had no intention of falling for his wife, and the less touch there was involved, the better. Even if the sorcerer never came back, he didn’t want to fall for his wife. He didn’t want a love match, or a woman who would die for him, as he would die for her.
He’d grown used to being alone and while he might have needed a wife, he didn’t need to fall in love with her.
Perhaps he’d known that it would be harder to avoid falling in love with Beatrice than it would be if he’d chosen some otheryoung lady. He had always felt drawn to her for some strange reason that he couldn't understand.
Maybe it was the way she was fiercely independent, but she was willing to work with others when it was necessary. Or perhaps it was the way she always treated him as though he were a man, not some sort of god. Or maybe it was simply the way she smelled wonderful at all times.
It didn’t matter. Beatrice Montgomery was dangerous, and he would be wise to stay far, far away.
They spoke little during the meal, their seats far enough across the table that it was necessary to raise one’s voice to be heard, which was not conducive to conversations.
Perhaps it was better that way.
He could spend time with her this way, without getting emotionally tangled.
As they finished breaking their fast together, Jenkins came in to greet them. “My lord, my lady,” he said, nodding respectfully to both of them. “I heard from Guinevere that Lady Dunham is interested in a tour of the estate today.”
Alexander turned to Beatrice, who smiled. “Yes, that would be lovely,” she said. “Guinevere offered to take me around if you are busy.”
Alexander shook his head. “I will take you,” he said. “It would be good for the people of the estate to see me with my wife.”
If something happened to him, they needed to accept her as his bride.
