“It doesn’t matter. I ought to have been there for you.”
She shrugged. “I haven’t seen much of Henry, either. Why should you be the only one responsible? I’m a grown woman, aren’t I?”
Anna sighed, reaching out to take Beatrice’s hand. “When I heard you were marrying Lord Hampton, I thought… Oh, I don’t know what I thought. It was too late when I heard, anyway. The banns were read, the engagement settled, and I suppose… I suppose I wanted to stay wrapped up in my own little world. I did think it odd when you didn’t talk to me about it but I thought that perhaps I was just being selfish.”
Beatrice snorted. “It gets worse than this, Anna.”
“Worse than going toStephenfor help? I don’t know him well, but Theo jokes that he’s earned his nickname. He can be cruel, and he’s far too clever for his own good. You should have steered clear of him, Beatrice.”
“What else should I have done?” Beatrice responded, a little more sharply than Anna deserved. “Nobody else could help me. I needed a way out of the wedding, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t think of anything! I can’t hurt Mama and Papa, not now. Not after Jane’s death. I don’t know why I thought thatthiswould be better. I had no idea he would make such a scene in the church. I thought it would be… quieter, somehow.”
Anna chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Stephen does not do thingsquietly, from what I’ve heard. But why did he agree tohelp you, Beatrice? To be frank, he is not akindman. He always wants something in return.”
The unspoken question hung between them.What did you promise him?
For a moment, Beatrice considered lying. It might make the whole business seem less real. As if she might wake up in the morning, in her bed, and realize that it was a nonsensical dream.
Except it was not a dream. She could still feel the Duke’s fingers curling around her wrist, even though he had not applied enough pressure to leave even the slightest mark. Absently, she lifted her other hand to her wrist, circling it with her fingers.
“In exchange for his help to expose the Marquess—and I had no idea about the woman and her child, by the way—he said I would owe him a favor.”
The color drained from Anna’s face. “Oh, Beatrice, tell me you didn’t agree.”
Beatrice looked away. “I think you know I did.”
“I shall talk to Theo. He’ll talk to Stephen and convince him that?—”
“No,” Beatrice said, louder than she’d intended. “No, Anna. I’m not so dishonorable as to back out of an agreement.”
“It is hardlydishonorable!”
“How differently we feel.”
There was a taut silence after that.
Anna began to nibble on her thumbnail. “Well, are you going to tell me?” she asked.
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what the favor was. Why the infamous Duke Blackheart agreed to investigate the Marquess and expose him so publicly. It must be a large favor.”
Beatrice closed her eyes briefly. “He says that he wants to marry me.”
There was another silence, longer and heavier this time.
“You cannot be serious,” Anna said, at last.
Beatrice’s temper flared. “Why? Because a man like him would never wish to marry a bespectacled, plump, bluestocking spinster like me?”
Anna flinched back. “Of coursethat is not what I mean! How could you imagine that I would ever think that way about you, Beatrice? Really, I am most offended! You are entirely too goodfor the Duke. Even Theodore, who is his closest friend, would agree. I am only shocked because the Duke has never shown the slightest inclination to marry. And to marry in such a way is… well, it is notdone, to say the least.”
Beatrice looked away. “I’m sorry, Anna. I should not have assumed. I suppose I am not feeling very… honorable… at the moment.”
“That hideous dress cannot be helping. You’d look nicer in a sack.Nobodywould look pretty in that gown.”
Beatrice let out a huff of laughter. “True, true.”
“Anyway, you needn’t worry about Stephen. As I said, I shall talk to Theodore, and this whole mess will be?—”