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Not exactly an enthusiastic response, but neither had she refused.
They walked in silence for a few minutes.
“I owe you an apology, Lord Cassius.”
Eyebrows raised, he glanced downward, idly noting the top of her head reached his shoulder. “Whatever for?”
“I was unaccountably rude and unladylike when I departed the other day.” Beatrice’s delicate jaw tensed, but she stared straight ahead. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I took no offense, Miss Fairfax.” He grinned and scratched Nala behind her ears. “In fact, it amused me. My sister and grandmother would’ve applauded your daring. Both enjoy cocking a snook at decorum and strictures.”
He almost added, “I’d like you to meet them someday.” But that was as unlikely and farfetched as portly King George IV climbing atop a horse unassisted or declining a meal.
“They sound delightful.” Presenting her profile, Beatrice glanced out over the ocean.
She possessed a perfectly straight nose, delicate and proportional to her features. Another detail his artist mind absently noted.
Something troubled her this morn.
It’s none of your business. Do not get involved.
Too late for that.
Cassius had become involved the minute he’d accepted the commission to paint her. A decision he was fast coming to regret. Nothing to do with painting her—for that would be an immense pleasure—but everything to do with what the miniature meant for her future.
He didn’t want to contribute to her unhappiness.
It wasn’t too late to back out.
He could return the deposit to Highbury.
But what good would that do?
The earl would simply find another artist.
Besides, Cassius wanted to paint Beatrice. Wanted to capture her essence and spirit on canvas. That dimple. Those Freckles. Her heart-shaped face. He needed to, and that begged the question, “Why?”
A sigh slipped past her rose-bud lips.
“I’m not brave or clever or resourceful. If I were, I’d leave my uncle’s home and make my way until I turn five and twenty. He doesn’t want me there any more than I want to be there.” She cut Cassius a swift glance before focusing on the waves once more. “I wonder. Does my staying at Highbury House make me a coward?”
Hands clasped behind his back, Cassius considered her. “No. Not a coward, but wise.”
“Wise?” Her eyes, turbulent and troubled, she sent him a doubtful sideways glance. “I’ve never thought so.”
“Prudent too.” How little Beatrice knew of the world. How unkind and unforgiving it was to women without means. “You told me you don’t know anyone who could take you in. How would you manage?”
She was silent for several minutes before murmuring in a defeated tone, “I honestly do not know.”
“Exactly so,” he said kindly.
A pair of laughing lads in navy and white striped skeleton suits, each holding a kite, raced by.
In the hour Cassius had been on the beach, the shore had filled with tourists and locals wishing to enjoy the sunny day.
“I could be a companion.” For a moment, excitement lit Beatrice’s freckled features before they fell. “But I don’t suppose I could bring my dogs and other pets.”
“Probably not.” Cassius didn’t soften the truth. It wouldn’t help her.
