Page 30

Marianne balked at the pretentious words. Did Beatrice truly think herself so much better than the man?

Of course she did. So did Father. Simply because of great wealth and an estate in the Coventry name.

With a shake of her head, she left for the door. “Of course not,” she murmured. “Forgive me for such a ridiculous suggestion.”

“Marianne?”

She paused with her hand on the door, turning back to face Beatrice.

“I am truly sorry for not marrying yet,” she said, her tone soft and sober once more. “I know how greatly you desire to be out in Society. But know this—even should I not marry, Mother and Father cannot keep you in forever. Your time will come.”

Marianne didn’t respond, nodding her head in silence before leaving. She knew her sister was trying to understand, but honestly, Beatrice couldn’t understand. She was too free to understand. Marianne was desperate. There had to be someway out of her current predicament. Someway she could speed the process along.

Now, perhaps it was time to take matters into her own hands with the only man she could access—even if the thought of Beatrice marrying Mr. Steele made her stomach swirl.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The day after Edward had happened upon the Coventrys going out, Mr. Coventry joined him in the library, expressing his pleasure over Edward’s progress.

“You’ve done a beautiful job,” he said. “Not that that comes as any surprise to me.”

He admired the work up close, nodding his head in approval and voicing his gratitude for Edward before leaving.

That visit thankfully gave Edward the validation he needed to continue with his chosen design. He moved on to the lower half of the opposite side of the bookshelf now. This was the most difficult part, as he was required to lie on the floor in order to reach the base of the shelves.

With his finger, he traced over the pencil markings he’d done one of the first days at Daffley Park, ensuring the lines met up and followed the same pattern as the rest of the bookshelf. Then he lay sideways at an awkward angle, tapping his mallet against the chisel in slow, succinct taps.

“Mr. Steele?”

He stopped, looking beneath the table he lay beside. Long skirts appeared in the doorway, and an airiness took hold of Edward’s heart, as if it flapped about in a cool, summer breeze.

He popped up from his place on the floor and brushed off the shavings from his arms.

Miss Coventry started as he appeared, placing a hand to her chest. “Oh, heavens. I did not see you there.”

“My apologies. I was working on the lower portion.” He placed his tools on the table and brushed more shavings from his trousers. What would she think of him, appearing so dirty?

She watched him in silence, her customary twinkling eyes and smile missing. Did she disapprove so heartily of him? Not that it mattered, of course.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she responded softly.

She said nothing more. It had to be nearing eleven o’clock. Should she not be painting according to her schedule? He didn’t know what to make of the fact that he remembered such a detail.

“I was speaking with my sister last evening,” she finally stated.

Understanding flooded his mind. Of course, that was why she seemed out of sorts. He’d seen the look in her eyes when her family had left her to attend the party. Mr. Coventry was a good man, Edward was sure of it. But what did it matter what Society thought of Mr. Coventry if he was making his own daughter miserable?

“Beatrice is so very charming,” Miss Coventry continued. “She is one of the most amiable women in all of Ashwick.”

How on earth was he supposed to respond to that? “I’m sure she is.”

“You do not know her very well,” she stated.

“No, I haven’t had the opportunity.”

“Well, you ought to.” Her eyes focused on anything but him. “She’s lovely, kind, obedient. Intelligent and talented. Did I mention she is charming?”