Alice could feel heat rising in her chest again from the idea that Mr. Beaumont had taken time to think about her clothing. It showed kind regard, a level of thoughtfulness she wasn’t used to. But more than that, it reinforced his belief that she could do more—that she was useful beyond being able to plan pretty ornamentations and he truly supported her desire to become more involved with the garden and take charge—it was a levelof belief in her abilities to do tasks beyond what was considered acceptable for a young woman. This unfamiliar sensation of being regarded almost made her uncomfortable, not to mention it was quite intimate for a man to consider what a woman should wear. Her blush rose to her cheeks, and she raised her teacup, taking a hardy sip while attempting to hide behind it.
“It was quite thoughtful of your brother to procure these for me and make my participation in the garden easier. I’m grateful,” she managed to say after a moment, not ready to let the idea of him go and desperate for Nathalie to continue speaking about him lest something relevant to his intentions should be revealed.
Nathalie merely offered a shrug, oblivious to the undercurrent of their conversation, clearly not reading her desire for more information on Mr. Beaumont. “Ethan has always been rather thoughtful. And finding you new clothes was simply practical.” Taking a large bite of her cold eggs, Nathalie returned to her book. Alice sighed in resignation, knowing she wouldn’t get anything more out of the younger Beaumont. Standing from the table, she left her friend to her fictional delights.
Alice had spent a few hours working alongside Matthias before Mr. Beaumont made an appearance on the grounds. She was occupied directing workers, mapping out sections for flowers and shrubs, when she felt a warmth at her back and looked over her shoulder to see the estate manager hovering behind her, observing their work.
“Mr. Beaumont,” she said with a small bow of the head. Clearing her throat, which suddenly felt quite dry, she looked athim through her lashes. “I believe I must thank you for finding me a more suitable dress. I appreciate the thought and effort which you put in.”
“Not that it seems to have done you much good,” he replied with a quirked eyebrow.
Alice felt her forehead creased in bewilderment, and he laughed at her expression. “I simply meant that you are still taking pains not to soil the garment. I procured that dress so you could really get into the work, as you expressed a desire to do. But you’re still acting afraid to get your precious self dirty.”
“This dress may not be of the finest quality, but that’s no reason to treat it poorly. I’d hate to ruin it, as it does not belong to me, but rather my cousin.”
Locking eyes with her, Ethan slowly leaned down and scooped up a handful of wet soil. Still in a crouched position, he raised his gaze to her once again and gave her a pointed stare, lifting one eyebrow in challenge.
A cold feeling settled over Alice, fearing what exactly was about to happen. “You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered, ice in her tone.
But before she had finished speaking or could step away, he reached forward and generously smeared the damp dirt down the front of the dress.
“There. Now you’re already dirty. You can stop being so precious and simply get to work.”
Alice’s mouth fell open at his audacity. “You . . . wh-what . . . you . . . how dare you? This dress does not belong to me!” Alice heard Matthias stifle a laugh behind her, pretending it was a cough and fooling absolutely no one.
“No need to fuss—and yes,actuallyit does belong to you now. When I asked the lady of the house if she had anything suitable for you to wear, she told me she did not need it returned and you were to do with it what you please.”
“Well at least I don’t have to worry about that!” Alice leaned down and tried to brush the soil off the dress, but the damage had already been done. Brown and gray streaks ran the length of her skirt, from her knees down to the hemline. As she aggressively swiped at the fabric over her legs, a section of hair let loose from its pin and fell across her face. Standing with a huff, she used the back of her hand to swipe the offending lock out of her eyes.
Mr. Beaumont looked at her and promptly let out a peal of laughter.
Brushing her palms together to dislodge the worst of the debris from her bandages, Alice shot him a glare. “And justwhatis so amusing, Mr. Beaumont?”
“It’s just that you have a bit of . . .” He motioned in front of his face, and Alice realized in horror that she must have trailed dirt across her own when adjusting the errant curl. Cheeks burning, as they seemed inclined to do as of late, she raised a hand and began to rub at the right side of her face.
“Did I get it?” she asked, desperate to regain even a shred of dignity.
Still smiling broadly, eyes shining in mirth, Ethan stepped forward. “You’re only making it worse. Here, let me.”
Stepping in close, Alice was soon looking at the man’s broad chest as he tipped her face up with a single finger before gently swiping it across her right temple. Then he brought his hand down, cradling her face before sweeping his thumb back and forth over her cheekbone.
Alice’s breath became ragged as her eyes locked with his, the tender touch lighting her nerves on fire—her entire body warm and alert to every sensation.
“There, I think I got it all.” His voice came out as the faintest whisper, but she read every word on his lips, feeling the breath of each syllable more than actually hearing them. The urge to pushherself up on her toes and close the distance between them so that their lips might touch was overwhelming.
But then as suddenly as he’d sullied her dress before, he just as quickly stepped away, a muffled cough from Matthias bringing finality to the moment.
It was as if they had both woken from a trance and returned to a cold reality. Alice took a step back and shook out her skirts, unable to look at Ethan as she addressed him. “Thank you for cleaning me up, though it’s entirely your fault I’m a mess to begin with.” She braved a glance at him, his face now regarding her intently. “I appreciate you thinking of more appropriate attire for me and taking the steps to obtain them. I’m only surprised Priscilla had such a dress, as it’s not the kind of thing I believe Aunt Lydia would ever have permitted around the house. And she certainly would have prohibited such a thing when instructing me.”
“Why was Lady Wrexham in charge of your instruction, what of your mother?”
Alice was surprised he didn’t know more of her history. It wasn’t a secret, and after their unpleasant first encounter, she was almost sure he had made inquiries about her with West.
“Oh. My mother passed when I was eight. It was a carriage accident. My aunt took over many of my lessons after that.”
Still watching her intently, his face softened as she explained her circumstances, sympathy evident in the way his focus lessened and the crinkles around his eyes eased. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m glad you had other family to support you.”
“If only that family weren’t Lady Wrexham and her exacting standards, yes?” She looked at him pointedly, and he gave a sheepish grin. “Though it seems my cousin has begun to stray from her influence in more ways than one. For now, I’ll just be grateful for the dress, soiled as it may be. Good day, Mr. Beaumont. I believe it’s time I clean myself up.”
