Page 26 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

Beatrice did not know what the right answer to that question was. “I don’t know a lot about gardening,” she said noncommittally.

“Oh, my goodness!” Elizabeth gasped. “I just had a thought. What if you host a ball here, and Miss Jennings attends? After everything that happened, that would cause quite the scene.”

Beatrice was sure Elizabeth was trying to stir up trouble for her.

“Elizabeth,” Edwin scolded again. “Do you need to ask so many questions at breakfast? Beatrice has only just come down for breakfast, and she has not had a moment to eat. Now, I believe you are done and have other things to attend to if you are to debut this Season. Mother, will you help Elizabeth?”

“Yes, she has a lot to do and so little time,” Modesty said, as if there were no tension in the room.

“From now on, I shall have breakfast alone with Beatrice, so she won’t be scared off completely,” Edwin declared.

“I was only making conversation,” Elizabeth mumbled.

Beatrice watched the two women leave. She was unsure what she thought of them but understood they could be a lot. When they had departed, she looked at the Duke, or rather at the newspaper he was still hiding behind.

“Thank you,” she said.

The Duke grunted in response.

“I don’t think you are cruel at all,” Beatrice added.

“We shall see,” he muttered from behind the newspaper.

ChapterTen

A Common Enemy

Beatrice exited the manor and walked out into the splendid sunlight. Color was bursting forth amid the green leaves and stems, and it looked as if someone had picked up a blank canvas and flicked the paintbrush, dotting the landscape with color. That color would soon solidify as more flowers bloomed. For now, there was a silent beauty in the sporadic blooms and a subtle aroma drifting in the air.

“Over here!”

Beatrice was surprised by the call and even more surprised when she spotted Elizabeth and Modesty near the apple orchard. Elizabeth waved and beckoned her over. Beatrice knew it would be rude not to accept.

She had hoped to have some time to herself on her very first full day in her new home, especially after breakfast, but fate was not on her side. She walked slowly over to where Elizabeth and Modesty were talking animatedly.

A solemn silence had replaced the constant questioning in the first half of breakfast, as the Duke had continued to read his newspaper before leaving without a word. He had offered Beatrice a curt nod and nothing more.

“Oh, look at how your dress matches the flowers!” Modesty gasped once Beatrice arrived.

Beatrice looked around her. “Which ones?”

“Well, all of them,” Modesty replied, as if that should be obvious.

Beatrice smiled. “Yes, they really are beautiful flowers.”

“Ah, you make a good point. I should talk with the gardener,” Modesty noted.

“Mother, you won’t bother him again, will you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Bother him? When have I ever bothered him? No, I must talk to him about how beautiful the flowers are, that is all,” Modesty replied, shaking her head.

Before Elizabeth could say any more, Modesty took off, striding rather quickly and spryly for a woman her age.

Elizabeth looked back toward Beatrice and sighed, shaking her head in disapproval. Beatrice fumbled for the right thing to say, but she could come up with nothing. She could not assure Elizabeth she loved her brother, for that was not true, nor could she regale her with stories of their courtship, for they had none, or explain why the Duke had ditched Agnes, for it was not her story to tell. She did not know if she should talk about plans to change the interior decorations or assure Elizabeth that she would keep them the same.

She wanted to assure her sister-in-law that she was a good person and they could be friends, but she couldn’t see the path to that yet.

Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips and sighed again. “Mother will bother the gardener.”

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