CHAPTER NINETEEN
Bethexcessively disliked weeping, but if she did cry, it was definitely not in public. Her mother had not tolerated displays of emotion, thus her only child had learned to keep her emotions to herself.
“Beth.”
Her name sounded torn from Leo, as if he actually felt pain at the sight of her tears. Of course this could not be true; they were not people who felt anything for each other.
“Talk to me... please.”
His hand covered the one she had not realized was clenched in a fist on the table. Beth focused on that large hand. Gloveless. His knuckles were so much bigger than hers, and the fingers longer; in fact, he could hold both her hands with ease. A long scar ran down his thumb, stopping at the wrist. It was old, and the skin was white now, but the thickness of that line told her it had hurt desperately when it was done. She traced a gloved finger down it before she realized what she was about.
“Wh-what happened?”
“I was in a fight with a French solider.”
Beth looked at him, and felt herself steady as she noted the calm look in his eyes. She saw no pity, and for that she was grateful.
“Was it terrifying?”
He didn’t try to misunderstand. Instead, his fingers tightened over hers.
“Yes, extremely so.”
She and others often forgot what the men who had fought for their country endured. Leo was always the noble Lord Vereton. Polished and sophisticated, for the most. He, Nick, and their friends never showed signs of what they’d endured during their fighting days, but Beth wondered if they still bore the scars.
“I’m sorry for what you and the other men who fought for their country suffered.”
“Thank you.” The solemnly spoken words told her he was indeed grateful for the acknowledgement.
They broke contact when the tea arrived, and Beth took her cup and sipped, enjoying the warmth. It was not cold out, but she felt in need of fortifying. Her world had crumpled around her ankles; there was no other way to describe it. It had been muddling along, as it always had, until Leo decided on the fake betrothal, and then she’d received the first blackmail letter, and now... well, now she felt set adrift in a sea of uncertainty and fear. Everything she had fought hard to put behind her was now back in the forefront of her mind—her father’s death, and the pain of what had happened preceding that.
Beth looked down at the cake on her plate, and saw she’d broken it into crumbs.
“Talk to me, damn you!”
The words were deep and harsh and had Beth lifting her head.
“I have nothing to tell.” She sipped her tea and tried to keep what she was feeling from her eyes. She had come up with a plan to end their betrothal after the carriage carrying Harriet Hyndmarsh had rolled away. She’d decided to pursue the fact that he wanted to wed Harriet and not her, but to do that he must break from her. He had denied still loving the woman as they walked here, but she still had to try.
“I think we should call off the engagement, Leo. That business today, with Harriet, your true love, will only add to the speculation ours is a love match, when it could not be further from the truth,” Beth said, refusing to discuss the matter of blackmail. That frustrated him, because his eyes narrowed.
“I will not refute the love claim—we both know it is not the truth, as I have explained multiple times. However, you gave me until the end of the season to end this betrothal, so that will be when we call it off.”
“I concede that perhaps Harriet is not your true love. But what if you find another, and being betrothed to me does not allow you to pursue her?”
“You’re searching for an excuse, Beth, but it will not work. We are staying betrothed.”
“But—”
“No buts. You gave me your word, and besides, I am going to stay very close to you now.”
“What? Why?” Beth felt panic slither through her, and the irrational need to get to her feet and run.
“Because, my sweet, something is very wrong with you, and until I know what, I will be your shadow.”
“Leo, please, this is silly. If I need help I will go to Nick.”
“Excellent. I shall talk with him today, and have him call round to discuss this matter with you.”
“No!” The word came out with far more force than necessary.
“Because you have no wish to embroil him in this... whatever the hell this is.”
“Don’t speak that way in front of me.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Beth wiped her hands, and got to her feet. “Good day to you, my lord.”
