CHAPTER TWO
MissElizabeth Whitlow didn’t exactly snatch her fingers from the grasp of Lord Bowers, but it was a near thing. She did not like men who were overzealous in their attentions, and this man was most definitely one of those.
“My dearest Miss Whitlow, if I may request a dance this evening.”
“I shall of course be honored,” Beth lied, then moved on, placing her hand on the sleeve of her cousin. They were walking around the ballroom. She had returned from her interlude with Lord Vereton to find her cousin wandering aimlessly. He was like that when Grace, his wife, was not at his side.
“That man is a fool, and I will never accept his offer for your hand while I still have breath in my body.”
“My sentiments exactly, Nick, however I must put up with him as it would be impolite of me to tell him what I actually think.”
“I could tell him for you if you’d let me.”
“He is harmless enough. Now, tell me how your dear wife is?”
“I’m sure she is ailing for something, but hiding it from me because I have told her I want to leave town so she can rest in the country air.”
Her cousin was the Earl of Attwood. Tall, with dark hair and eyes, he was in her opinion one of the most handsome men in society, and had once been sought after by many a gimlet-eyed mama as a matrimonial prospect for their daughters. However, he married Grace, and after a tumultuous beginning they’d fallen deeply in love, and he was now succumbing to panic as she carried their first child.
“She did not look unwell when I saw her two days ago. In fact, she appeared the picture of health. There can surely be no reason to leave before the season has ended.”
“I want to leave, she does not.”
Beth watched him survey the people before them, and knew he saw nothing, as his mind was focused on his wife, who had decided to stay at home this evening due to fatigue.
“From what I understand, tiredness is normal during pregnancy, Nick. Surely Grace knows what is best for her at this stage in the proceedings?”
“She refused to let me stay home with her, stating she wanted to sleep, and that I was not a restful person in my current mood.”
“She has a point there,” Beth teased him. “And to be perfectly honest you are not the best company, but were you not here I would be forced to converse with people like that idiot Lord Bowers.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I’m sorry if I am preoccupied, Beth, it is simply that I worry Grace will hurt herself if she does not slow down. I want to take her away from here so she will be forced to, but she is refusing.”
“If she is healthy then leave her be, Nick. She will do nothing to harm the baby, and as I understand it, she is not due to have said baby for another five months.”
Her cousin shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”
Beth looked around, and wondered if Lord Vereton had gone. Had seeing his beloved Harriet forced him to flee? The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. That a man such as he could still, after many years, be uncomfortable around Harriet was ridiculous. But then, Beth had no measure to understand how he felt, as she’d never felt that way about anyone—and never would, she vowed.
Harriet was a terrible flirt, and always had been. Beth was sure more hearts had been broken at her hand than just Lord Vereton’s. The man was a fool to still care for her, but then she’d observed that often men were fools when it came to women.
“What was that sound for?”
“What sound?” Beth said.
“The despairing moan sound.”
“I did not moan despairingly!”
“No, actually you did, sort of a…” He moaned.
“I’m sure you are mistaken, cousin.”
“No,” he smiled, “that was fairly accurate actually.”
“If you must know, I was thinking derogatory thoughts about your fellow man.”
“What have we done now, and who do I have to punch?”
