“And yet you are betrothed,” Nick said, “and I could not handpick a better man to be your husband, were I being honest. Even considering the history between you.”
“I cannot believe you said that,” Beth managed to get out. “Leo and I could never.... Dear Lord, just the prospect makes me shudder.”
Surely it made her shudder... didn’t it?
“If you truly feel that, then why did you agree to be his betrothed?” Grace asked.
“Because I do not like that woman Harriet Hyndmarsh, and seeing the shock on her face when Leo said we were betrothed was something I enjoyed far more than I should have, which possibly makes me a bad person, but is the truth. Then there is the small matter of men leaving me alone. Mr. Humperdingle has been sending me wounded looks, but has not approached. To say it is a relief I do not have to smell his foul breath and smile until my mouth aches, is an understatement.”
“Leo? When did he become Leo?” Nick questioned her.
“You heard that one word out of all the others I have just spoken?”
“Well, he is calling you Beth, and I asked him when that familiarity had occurred; it is only fair I do so to you.”
“This conversation is silly, and over. Excuse me, someone is signaling me.”
“Who?”
Ignoring Nick’s question, Beth left, deciding she needed a few minutes alone in the cool evening air. Time away from her family so she did not give in to the urge to box their ears.
Stepping through the open doors to the terrace, she strolled in the company of a few other guests who sought the air before taking their seats for the readings. Wandering along the deck she looked at the night sky, and wondered when she would receive another note. Anything would be better than this intolerable waiting. It was playing havoc with her nerves.
Is it him?
“Miss Whitlow?”
Beth nodded as a footman approached.
“A note arrived for you.”
She looked at the silver tray that held the missive with dread. Surely he would not know her whereabouts. Surely it was... what? Had her aunt taken ill? Reaching for it, she nodded to the servant, and then when he left, she moved to the railing and opened it.
I know where you go, Miss Whitlow. I have eyes all over London, and all are focused on you. You will pay for your behavior, WHORE! And if you do not do as I say, then your cousin or his wife will be made to pay. Or perhaps I shall kill your fiancé?
