He was an excellent actor, Beth would give him that. She would also give him a great deal more when she had him alone.
“Love!” Harriet glared at Beth. “But you once loved me!”
“I thought I loved you,” he corrected gently, and to Beth’s mind, condescendingly, “and then I realized my error. I was young, and that kind of youthful infatuation easily passes. The love I now feel for my fiancée is different... lasting.”
Oh he was good, Beth thought. She almost believed the adoring look he was sending her way. Almost, but of course she knew better. She and Lord Vereton did not like each other at all. What was he thinking, speaking as he had. The repercussions would be horrible for them both.
“Infatuation! B-but you adored me!”
Harriet was not pleased, her words now a shriek. Gone were the perfectly modulated tones. It was funny, Beth thought, looking at the woman’s twisted face, she looked almost ugly now.
“Come now, Lady Hyndmarsh, can we not be friends? I understand this is painful for you, but surely you did not expect me to still be infatuated with you... six years on?”
Beth tried to shake herself out of the shock and say something, but her tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth.
