“I could visit my father.”
“He is undoubtedly busy with government affairs. You can see him when this is finished.”
She wished she could rail at Beau for his assessment, but she couldn’t. He was right. If her father was there on government business, the last person he would be anxious to see would be her. Even so, she thought dourly as she turned to leave, it was a good thing she hadn’t promised Beau to obey. Because she suspected she wasn’t about to. Again.
She had her hand on the door handle when she heard Beau stand. “Pip.”
Why did she keep hoping? She turned, ready for at least a word of affection. “Yes?”
“Leave the gun here. Someone might have need of it.”
“I’m not allowed to defend myself on the post road?”
“You’ll have a guard up with the driver.”
For a long moment she just stood there, waiting. What for, she wasn’t certain. Maybe a promise, a smile, a reminder of what they had shared no more than five hours ago. But he simply stood there.
“We don’t have any time, Pip,” was all he finally said.
So, she left.
* * *
If she had stayed,she might have seen Beau’s control break and his eyes close in pain. He couldn’t do this. Especially now, after he had cradled her against him, after she had not simply been trusting but open and generous. When she had shared her lovely body with a selflessness that humbled him. His own body still hummed in satisfaction from not only their lovemaking, but their silence, wrapped in each other’s arms in the darkness. His cock stirred again, quite without his permission at the mere thought.
Why did he have to sacrifice so much? Why couldn’t he simply give in to inevitability and spend the next sixty years or so making sure Pip was a smiling, satisfied woman with babes in her arms? Would Theo never leave him alone? Would the grief and guilt ever ease enough to feel as if the both of them deserved everything they wanted?
He didn’t have time for this, he told himself, sitting back down and returning to his note to Drake. Pip had known what she was asking for last night. She knew the cost as well as he. There should be nothing to think about but preventing the unfolding treason they had stumbled over.
Even so, it took him precious long moments before he could resume his writing.
* * *
There weretimes Pip wished the duchess’s staff weren’t quite so efficient and kind. She didn’t want to leave her and Beau’s little sanctuary, no matter who was lurking in the cellar. She didn’t want to leave the duchess or Lizzie, who felt rather like her last lifelines in a world gone stark raving mad. She didn’t want to leave Beau, although, to be specific, he left her standing out in the drive, his Ares restlessly pulling at the reins as Beau said a final goodbye before jumping on.
“I need your promise, Pip,” he said, his head bent over hers as if this were a private moment. “You’ll go straight to Delamere.”
She couldn’t look away from him, his eyes soft as earth in the early morning light. She couldn’t move, even though the wind was brisk and clouds steel gray. She so wanted to tousle his hair, to pull him just a bit off balance to remind him that it was her decision to let him go, even though she didn’t want him to. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and lay her head against his chest, as if that would be enough to keep her fresh in his memory.
Instead, she reached up to stroke Ares’s nose. She smiled for Beau, grateful she had used up her tears where he wouldn’t see them. “Of course, I shall go straight to Delamere,” she said. “Since you asked so sweetly.”
Beau huffed with impatience. “Pip. This is vital.”
“Beau,” she retorted, still smiling. “I believe I figured that out all on my own. Now go. I have carriages to pack and duchesses to part from.”
“You’ll give her my notes?”
No,she thought sourly.I shall have them for breakfast with my toast and tea.
“Exactly how many times,” she asked, “must I remind you that I am no longer twelve? I have lived out in the world, Beau. I have survived my time in foreign countries as the daughter of a high-level diplomat. I understand urgent matters. Now go before I must wallop you with those selfsame notes for underestimating me yet again.”
Finally, that smile came out, the one that had felled Pip for the first time when she was six. Whimsical, self-deprecating, conspiratorial. “I am being a bit top-lofty, aren’t I?”
So, she smiled back, a real one. “I’m glad you can admit it. Now be off. Your poor Ares is frantic to be moving.”
“And you’re frantic to be rid of me?”
Her smile faltered, even knowing that he was trying to leave on a light note. “Frantic for my goodbye kiss, maybe.”
