Page 24
“Hush, you two. Lord Cassius sees you.” Beatrice’s musical tone held no real censure, nor did she stutter. “How could he not when your manners are so poor?”
“Good morning, Miss Fairfax.” Cassius pressed a palm to his waist and gave a half bow. “Morning, Nala and Teddy.”
Nala and Teddy plopped their haunches on the sand and raised their paws.
Cassius dutifully shook each furry appendage as he swept his appreciative gaze over Beatrice.
She was a breath of fresh air—a lily in a world of roses, and she stood out all the more because of it.
It was the artist in him that admired her originality and nothing else, he reminded himself.
Hadn’t he sampled romance once?
Madly and wholeheartedly?
Indeed, he had, and love had left a bitter flavor in his mouth and his soul charred and warped.
Cassius wasn’t interested in traipsing down that treacherous path again—particularly with a woman destined for matrimony. Thus, he resolved to remain a bachelor and dedicate his life to his art.
She was his mistress.
He needed no other, nor did he want the complications and vexations that came with loving a flesh and blood woman.
Even one as unique and appealing as Beatrice Fairfax.
Her simple straw bonnet tied with a white ribbon beneath her pert chin matched her unadorned spencer. Simplicity suited her. The skirts of her peach gown billowing behind her, Beatrice laughed.
“Good morning, Lord Cassius.” Happiness lit her pretty hazel eyes and the ocean air brought a becoming bloom to her cheeks. “The dogs seldom take to anyone but me, especially men.”
“I’m flattered they remember me.” Squinting slightly against the bright sun, he asked, “What brings you out on this fine morn?”
He patted each dog on the head, earning him adoring brown-eyed gazes.
A shadow flickered across Beatrice’s face, but she swiftly hid it with another bright smile. “I hadn’t walked the d-dogs in several d-days.”
Her stutter’s reappearance gave her distress away. More likely, she needed a reason to leave Highbury House and her uncle’s authoritarian overreach.
“And I needed to d-drop my other walking b-boots off at the shoe repair for new soles.”
Most nobles discarded shoes before they became worn enough to require repairs.
He eyed her gown and spencer closely.
They were well made, as one would expect from the ward of an earl, but not extravagant or the first stare of fashion as was the Earl of Highbury’s attire. Nor were they new. Upon further inspection, Cassius concluded they were at least two—probably three seasons—old.
Was the earl a penny-pinching miser, to boot? Or did he reserve his parsimony for Beatrice alone? Moreover, was Highbury’s resentment so prevalent that he was punitive in all things regarding his niece?
“I also wished to pick up willow bark, rose hip, and nettle f-from the alchemist.” Beatrice almost seemed to try too hard to explain why she was out and about this morning. “Millborn’s rheumatism is acting up, and I want to brew her a t-tea to ease her discomfort.”
Once again, Beatrice showed concern for a servant, even to the point of fetching the herbs and brewing tea herself. Cassius admired her intrinsic kindness—something that assuredly wasn’t inherent in all the Fairfaxes.
“May I walk with you?” he asked against his better judgment.
Cassius should return to the studio and work. That would be the prudent thing to do. After all, he wasn’t a man of independent wealth or leisure. Miss Fairfax’s circumstances weren’t his business and there was nothing he could do to change them. He certainly couldn’t offer her sanctuary nor impose upon his parents to do so as Lucius had with Clodovea.
Still, what harm was there in enjoying a few more minutes of her company and the lovely day?
Beatrice inclined her head, not coyly or flirtatiously, but simply in the affirmative. “As you wish.”
