“Are you suggesting that my exercise should be curtailed?” Her voice pitched high in protest.
“Not at all,” Beckett said, wanting to not insult her or cage her in. “I’m suggesting you take another companion.”
“I walk very early in the mornings.” Mrs. Reid sniffed. “I do not know of anyone who is up early enough to walk at such a time. Surely this discourages the footpads as well.”
“I am an early riser,” Beckett said. “Perhaps I could accompany you.”
Why did he say that? The point of this walk was to make the number of times he had to see this woman fewer. But if something were to happen to her, knowing she was out there, alone? He couldn’t bear the thought.
“Why?” she blurted.
“I, too, sometimes exercise in the park in the early hours. I don’t have such a rigorous schedule, and I would like to have an incentive for such a beneficial outing. I can provide extra protection for you, and you can provide a reason for me to get out of bed.” This was a complete lie, and here he was, after purporting himself to be a man who desired truth, lying to her.
She frowned. “Is this part of the courting business?”
Beckett shook his head. “No. I prefer not to talk much on my walks in the morning, and thus any companionship I could provide you would be silent.”
She considered the proposal but didn’t comment upon it until they reached her door. “Given what occurred last time you came in after a walk, we should say goodbye here.”
Beckett felt the twinge in his stomach about their argument the previous week. He had been obtuse, though she had been nagging. Neither of them showed their best manners, it seemed. “Very well.”
She opened the door to her home, and he turned to go back down the steps.
“I leave my home at ten ’til seven, every morning. If you like, you may meet me at the entrance to the park. But I shan’t wait for you.” She spoke the last sentence in a serious tone, as if warning a child.
“Understood.” He bowed his head towards her, and she briefly sank into a curtsy, half inside her house, half outside. He didn’t know if he had won that round or lost the game completely.
Chapter Five
“How is yoursuitor?” Chastity asked, sipping her tea.
Nell grimaced. “Very well, thank you.”
But Chastity could always see through Nell’s attempts at polite deflection and stared her down, waiting for the truth of the matter. It did make Nell wonder if this technique was something the Society of Friends trained their members in early on, because Chastity seemed to have mastered it.
“He has taken to walking with me in the mornings,” Nell admitted. There had only been five days of walks, as she walked on Saturday and Sunday as well as the rest of the days. One might take Sunday to rest, but Nell could not. She felt agitated and out of sorts if she rested even one day. And Beckett had been waiting for her at the entrance, and true to his word, not spoken during their stroll.
Chastity raised her light-colored eyebrows, barely visible to an across-the-table companion. “Has he made clear his intentions?”
Nell frowned. Her mind wanted to insist, yes, he had, for he had told her that he intended to tell the truth, but that he knew he lied to himself. But that was not what Chastity meant. “I donot believe this will lead to a marriage proposal, if that is what you are asking.”
“He calls once a week, and has taken to spending every morning with you.”
Nell shook her head. “He does not come in for tea when we walk. It is hardly courting.” It made her wonder if he would speak to her this next week for their scheduled visit. But their silence was not stilted or heavy. It was natural and easy. More than once, Nell had felt the urge to wrap her arm around his elbow to point out a bird that was singing, or the presence of a last flowering before winter. She did not, however, take his elbow. She did not touch him, nor did he touch her.
“I will not tease you, Nell, but I do think your cheeks are flushed.” Chastity looked pleased with herself, and Nell could not think of why she would be. There was nothing to be pleased about.
“It’s nothing,” Nell insisted, drinking a gulp of tepid tea. Or as Beckett had called it, dreadful tea. But why would she spend money on something she often drank without realizing she was gulping it down? There were few who called upon her, and other than that, it was just her drinking tea to stay warm as she continued her correspondence. Could she budget more for tea? Was that something that mattered to her? Perhaps? She did enjoy a good cup of tea when she had one.
When she finished her thoughts and focused back on her friend, Chastity was once more smiling at her in that strange, self-satisfied way.
“Were you thinking of him just now?” Chastity asked.
Nell blinked, wanting to immediately spit out a defensiveno.But what Beckett had said about lying to himself came to mind, and she realized that she was doing that exact thing. Would she lie to her friend then, because she could not bear to admit the truth to herself, let alone another person?
She felt the frisson that came with a new appealing idea to think about. The kind where she needed to read books and dedicate whole evenings to only thinking. What was truth when one spoke exclusively to friendly countenances? Was it platitudes to keep things pleasant, was it divulging one’s biggest secrets to trust the friend to accept one? Or was it all born out of self-deception and self-delusion that one had an opinion at all?
“I am not ready to speak about Lord Beckett,” she told Chastity, which was one hundred percent truthful. There was much reading to be done first. She would need to go to the bookstore. Or find a Classics library that would admit her. Starting at the Greeks with Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato, dipping into the Christian philosophers like Aquinas and Boethius, and would she admit more modern-day philosophers who did not have a moral bias, but rather looked at the world from a different slant?
