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“Whatever you wish, that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? I shall allocate a fair stipend for you. You shall have your own house, which you can decorate as you want. You can buy as many books as you want. You can travel, too.”

Beatrice cleared her clogged throat. “By myself?”

He shrugged. “Or with your sisters, friends, whoever you want.”

“And in the meantime, you shall be…?”

“Hopefully, still exploring the world. The current expedition shall take me about two to three years, and I don’t know where life will lead me after that.”

Beatrice scrubbed her face, dislodging her spectacles and then putting them back on again. “I am sorry, I apologize, are you proposing a mariage blanc?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” He shrugged. “We don’t lack passion if you haven’t noticed. I can give you children if you want. We might not succeed this time around, but I shall be back and—”

“But you won’t be living with us, yes?” she interrupted sharply.

“Bea—” He reached for her, but she leaned back, and he curled his hand into a fist before withdrawing it. “I enjoy your company immensely, you know that. I want you, you know that too. And I want what’s best for you. But I don’t… I can’t live my life for someone else. I told you that.”

I enjoy your company immensely. She’d never thought sweet words like that could break her heart. “Yes, I heard you the first time,” Beatrice said, finally figuring out how she felt about this entire proposal. “And I’ve heard your offer of marriage. I thank you, but I refuse.”

“You what?” Adam straightened in his seat, his eyes wild. “You’d rather marry an old lecherous man?”

“Yes.” She nodded for emphasis. “Because, while with him I shall be miserable for a few years, he is but an old man. Soon enough, in ten or so years, he is bound to pass away, and I shall be a respectable widow. While with you… I shall be lonely forever.”

He let out a huff of disbelief. “You can’t know that. I might keel over before he does. Those expeditions can be dangerous, you know.”

“That is not what I mean, and you know it!” she cried. “You shall go off and travel, join one expedition after another, and perhaps settle down in some other country. You might even…” she choked on her words and swallowed, “fall in love with another woman. What then? Shall you keep a mistress?”

He shrugged, his voice strained. “You can keep a lover as well.”

Just the thought of that made Beatrice ill. And the thought that he didn’t care broke her heart once more. “That’s not the life I want.”

She couldn’t believe her own words. But the hurt she felt inside dictated she was doing the right thing.

“Thank you for everything,” she said with a softer tone of voice. “We have one more item on my list to cross off. And after that…” She shook her head, tears gathering at the back of her eyes. “And after that, it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

Chapter 19

Here we go.

Beatrice put on her gloves and glanced at her aunt. “How do I look?”

“Marvelous.” Aunt Agnes clasped her hands together. “Simply, marvelous.”

This was the last item on her official list. The last night of escapades with Adam. And then four days later, she would leave for Northumberland, while Adam would leave to explore the world.

On this rare occasion, Beatrice sought help from her aunt rather than both of them pretending as if she was asleep in her bed. Beatrice needed all the help she could get, and plenty more support. She was shaking on the inside for a few different reasons.

But this was also her last night of freedom. Not literally, of course. But the last night she’d do something brazen before her real life would resume.

“Thank you.” Beatrice, suddenly shy, glanced at her reflection.

The gown that the duchess had picked for her would certainly shock people with its indecency if she were to wear it to a regular ball. The flashy golden color and gemstones twinkled every time she moved and drew the eye. It hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her every advantage. The low bodice framed her breasts in a way that made Beatrice worried her nipples would peak out if she made one wrong move. But the modiste was a skillful master of her trade, so that worry was baseless. And then there was the long and intricate trail, covered with chiffon flowers, moving like a graceful procession of clouds across the floor.

She had never worn a gown so revealing, and the idea of showing up before Adam in such a state was nerve-wracking, which was quite odd considering the states of undress he’d witnessed her in, not to mention the things he’d done to her.

Her cheeks burned, and she lowered her gaze.

“If this Adam doesn’t propose tonight, I shall forever question his sanity. You look like a magical enchantress.” Aunt Agnes brought her clasped hands to her cheek, leaning on them with a dreamy look on her face.