Master Franklin tossed back his head, laughed. “Deborah would probably say she also wishes I were a young man again!”
Nicholas retrieved Bethie’s hand from Master Franklin’s gentle grasp. “Be warned, Bethie, love. Ben has quite a way with the ladies.”
Bethie looked up into Nicholas’s teasing eyes. “I’ll remember that.”
The evening passed in a whirlwind of introductions until Bethie was quite confused and could remember no one’s name. She’d never met so many people at once in her entire life. Almost everyone was very gracious to her, more so than she would have imagined.
Almost everyone.
The evening seemed to be passing smoothly when Nicholas cursed under his breath.
Bethie followed his gaze to a beautiful young woman dressed in a gown of yellow silk embroidered with bright red flowers. Upon her head was an elegant powdered wig. Her skin was unnaturally white, and Bethie realized it was powdered, even the swell of her breasts, which rose rather bountifully above her bodice. A dark beauty mark had been affixed to her cheek. She moved with the regal grace of a swan. And her gaze was fixed upon Nicholas.
“Nicholas, my dear, I am so relieved to see you safely home again. You’ve no idea how I worried and prayed for you. But that’s not the first time I’ve lost sleep because of you.” She held out her hand to him, gazed seductively at him from beneath her darkened lashes.
Nicholas smiled, took her hand, kissed it. “Sylvia. Thank you for your prayers, though that is not usually what gets you on your knees, is it? May I introduce my wife?”
But Sylvia ignored Bethie, tickled Belle under the chin and smiled. In contrast to her painted face, her teeth appeared almost as yellow as her gown. “What a lovely child. She doesn’t look like you, Nicholas. I would think so vigorous a man would make his mark in his offspring.”
Nicholas’s voice held a hint of warning. “She is my daughter by adoption, Sylvia. Elspeth was widowed.”
Then the woman’s cold, brown eyes fixed on Bethie. “A child—and a child bride. How pleased I am to meet you, dear.”
Bethie could tell Sylvia was anything but pleased to meet her, felt her own temper stir, bit back her words for the sake of Nicholas and his family. “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, miss.”
“She’s lovely, Nicholas. I can see why you fell for her. Her eyes are such a unique shade of blue, and her skin—baked brown in the sun like that of a wild Indian. Perhaps she shall start a new fashion and we shall all bake our faces, though I think few of us would choose to do so by working in our own fields.”
Bethie’s heart raced as her temper swelled.
But Nicholas laughed. “Am I right in remembering that your thirtieth birthday has just passed, Sylvia, my dear? Forgive me for not congratulating you sooner. You don’t look as if you’ve aged quite that much these past years, though it is hard to see beneath all that paint.”
Sylvia gaped at him, then stomped off in an angry swirl of skirts.
Jamie came up behind them, a devious grin on his face. “Well done, Nicholas. That was brilliant! But I believe they are calling us to dinner.”
“I’d like just a moment with Bethie, if you don’t mind, Jamie.”
“Not at all. I’ll eat your share.”
When they were alone, Nicholas took both her and Belle into his embrace. “I know her words hurt you, but you’ve no reason to feel shame for who you are, Bethie.”
“But she’s right. My skin is brown, no’ white like hers. And my hands are rough from workin’. These people only speak to me because of you.”
He ran a finger down her cheek. “Her skin is covered with layer after layer of paint and powder, and her hands are flawlessly smooth because she’s never done a useful thing in her life. She is pampered and spoiled and—”
“You were lovers.” Bethie voiced what most troubled her.
“That was a long time ago, Bethie, and there was no love involved. There is only one woman for me now, and that is you. I adore every inch of your sun-kissed skin, from the tip of your nose to that tasty little beauty mark on your left nether lip.”
Bethie gasped. “I dinnae have a beauty mark on my—”
He grinned devilishly. “I’ll show it to you—in the mirror tonight. Now let’s join the others.”
***
Nicholas watched proudly as Bethie made her way through her first formal dinner. She was an intelligent woman, and what they had forgotten to teach her, she quickly learned through observation. She seemed to be enjoying the conversation, and Jamie, Ben, and his father were making a special effort to include her. Nicholas would make a point of thanking them in private later.
The fare was outstanding, the wine superb. It had been so long since Nicholas had eaten any of these dishes that he had to fight to keep from moaning with each bite. He knew without asking that his father had hired additional cooks and provided much of the food for the meal. Ben was a prominent and powerful man, but he was not wealthy, at least not by Kenleigh standards.
