Page 33 of The Beast of Beswick
Voices reached him as he pushed open the door and then went silent. They all rose upon his entry.
“Don’t get up on my account, please,” he said. “Sit. Continue.”
But the youngest of the trio of ladies at the dining table stared at him in wide-eyed alarm. He turned around, wondering which fiend had rode in on his heels. Was he missing some vital item of clothing? A cravat? He glanced down. His trousers? No, everything was in place.
Except for…
Hell, he’d forgotten the blasted hat.
Thane blew out a breath, feeling both relieved and irritated. Relieved that the pretense was over and everyone could move on. And irritated because it was his bloody house and he couldn’t skulk around it any more than he already had, just to avoid offending the sensibilities of some delicate debutante. He was only scarred, for God’s sake, not the devil incarnate.
“Isobel,” Astrid hissed to her sister. “Compose yourself this instant and greet the duke properly.”
The girl’s mouth immediately snapped shut and her head ducked to her plate. “G’morning,” she mumbled.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Astrid said in a stricken voice. “Please excuse my sister’s poor manners. She’s usually not so ill-behaved.”
“No insult taken,” he said.
“Beswick,” his aunt greeted, a concerned look falling to the young lady who remained ashen, eyes downcast.
Thane filled his plate and took his place at the head of the table, half regretting his decision to join them. Already, he felt on edge. And not because of Isobel’s reaction but because of the woman who sat a few feet away. Despite her efforts to avoid him, the draw of her was magnetic. Impossible to ignore, especially after the kiss in the conservatory several evenings ago andespeciallyafter her early-morning exploration that had left him in such a sorry state.
Clad in a dove-gray morning dress, Astrid’s dark hair had been brushed off her brow into that pristine bun. He almost wished he could see it fully unbound, not just the tantalizing curls he’d viewed loose earlier in the bathing room. It would be pure chaos. A dark, wanton mess he could wind his hands in, bury his face in, do thoroughly indecent things in that would make a courtesan blush.
“Did you sleep well, Lady Astrid?” he asked in a voice like gravel.
Clear eyes lifted to his, the hint of a smudge beneath them, but then they dropped away. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“She did not,” Isobel volunteered, as if desperate to make amends for her faux pas. “She left for hours in the middle of the night.”
The duchess looked up from her toast. “Where did you go, dear?”
“I…I couldn’t sleep, so I attempted to find the kitchens for some warmed milk…and got lost,” Astrid replied, clearly flustered and peeved at her sister for mentioning her nighttime wanderings. “It took some time for me to find my way back to bed.”
Thane ignored the way that one word lit an ache in his gut. He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “You should have rung for a servant or sent your maid to get it for you.” He paused, trying to recall her stout lady’s maid. “Aggie or Agnes?”
“Agatha.” Astrid shrugged. “She was asleep. Why wake her when I’m hale enough to fetch it myself? Honestly, the lack of resilience expected in the female nobility these days is trying.”
Thane blinked, his fork arrested halfway to his mouth. Her unusual viewpoints constantly surprised him. Most aristocratic ladies wouldn’t dream of doing anything themselves. But then again, she was unlike any lady of his acquaintance. He glanced at his chortling aunt and revised his statement. Aunt Mabel had been flaunting society’s expectations since the dawn of time.
“A girl after my own heart,” Mabel said. “Though I quite agree. This place is quite a maze. Wonderful for childhood hide-and-go-seek games but not for old ladies in their dotage.”
“You’re not in your dotage, Aunt,” Thane said loyally and glanced at Astrid. “Did you find the kitchens?”
“No,” she said. “But all was not lost. I did see the sunrise.”
“Oh!” Mabel clapped her hands. “You must have been on the east side of the abbey then.” She frowned to herself. “Was it from the gallery? That’s the only floor with partial views to the east.”
Twin flags of color rose into Lady Astrid’s cheeks after a sidelong look in his direction. “No, er, it was a room with a rather large bathing pool.”
“A pool?” Isobel perked up and then instantly dropped her head.
“The sunrise was indeed spectacular this morning,” Thane murmured. He was careful not to make eye contact with Astrid, but he felt the touch of her stare nonetheless. “And yes, Lady Isobel, there is an indoor bathing pool at Beswick Park. Perhaps when you are no longer so frightened, you may allow me to show it to you and your sister.”
“I’m not afraid.” An interested gaze rose and dipped comically. “Can we go after breakfast?”
“Certainly, if Lady Astrid does not object.”
