Page 2 of The Beast of Beswick
She let out a breath, but before she could form a reply, her aunt emerged from the far end of the room, her face pulling tight with vexation. Astrid frowned. Good Lord but Aunt Mildred’s designs were transparent. Even though they weren’t in London, her aunt well knew the rules of the aristocracy…especially with respect to chaperoning unmarried young ladies.
Astrid swallowed the spurt of anger when she thought of how easily Isobel could have been compromised. Her eyes narrowed with sudden understanding.
Is that what my fortune-hunting relatives intended?
Astrid’s frustration pricked as her eyes touched on the smug face of the Earl of Beaumont. She bit her lip, fingers clenching at her sides, her stomach threatening to upend itself. If she hadn’t forgotten her market day list, she would never have returned in time…and who knew what else might have happened. Right now, however, Isobel was safe and that was all that mattered. Shewassafe, right? Swallowing a rise of dread, her gaze shifted to her sister.
“Isobel, are you well?” she asked.
Her sister nodded, though her rosy skin was ashen. “Yes, but I do feel a bit of a megrim coming on.”
“Perhaps you should rest.”
With a grateful look, Isobel nodded and stood, bobbing a hasty curtsy in the earl’s direction, and fled the room with Aunt Mildred on her heels.
Beaumont gave a careless wave as she left. “I’ll be seeing you soon, dearest.”
“You will not,” Astrid said.
His stare raked her from head to toe, making her feel as if she were wearing far less than the sturdy gray woolen dress with matching pelisse, buttoned up to her neck. “Tell me, Lady Astrid, what canyoudo to stop me?”
“She’s sixteen,” she said.
He nodded. “Indeed. Marriageable age.”
Astrid swallowed the rise of anger. The same ageshe’dbeen when he had first set eyes on her in London. His interest, intent, and timing were no mistake. The newly minted earl was back to settle a score.
“Isobel is to have a Season in London,” Astrid said.
“Not if your uncle accepts an offer beforehand. She will make a lovely countess, don’t you think?”
Astrid scowled, her heart thudding. “Why are you so fixated on her for a wife? She’s not part of your set.”
“Perhaps because I was denied nine years ago.”
And there it was as plain as day—the heart of the matter—thescore.
A calculated stare met hers as Beaumont approached where she stood, her posture rigid with a sick combination of fear and fury. His victorious smile made Astrid’s blood run cold. He’d already wrecked her future. She could not…wouldnotlet him threaten her sister’s.
“No, I won’t allow it,” she said. “I am her guardian.”
“Ah, but Viscount Everleigh isyourguardian, is he not? Andhisapproval has already been granted, or at least it will be once we come to terms. You, my dear, have no say in the matter, and as much as you think you can sway me, you will find that what you desire is of no import. You had your chance, as they say.” His grin was slow and mocking. “I told you that you would regret it.”
Stifling the retort that she absolutely didnotregret refusing him, Astrid sucked in a calming breath. “Isobel is barely out of the schoolroom. You are four and thirty, Edmund. Surely you can find a more appropriate wife closer to your own age.”
His eyes narrowed at her use of his given name. “It’s Lord Beaumont now. Are you proposing yourself as a substitute? Though, for a woman in your situation, marriage would be out of the question now, of course.” He canvassed her figure with a lewd glance that made her want to cover herself with a blanket. “However, I could be moved to reconsider with the right incentive.”
“I’d rather be mauled by rabid dogs.”
“Ah yes, there’s that barbed tongue of yours,” the earl replied. “You’re like a fine-aged whiskey with a bite that has only sharpened with time. Lady Isobel seems much more well-behaved, though it will be my greatest pleasure once we’re wedded to discover if she has a stubborn streak like you.”
Astrid stiffened. “You will marry my sister when hell freezes over,Lord Beaumont. Count on that.” With as much effort as she could muster, she tamped down her mounting temper and swept from the room.
Shaking with outrage, Astrid attempted to compose herself in the corridor. Regardless of Beaumont’s looks, title, or fortune, she would not wish such a heartless man on her worst enemy, much less her sweet, innocent sister. Given a proper Season, a jewel like Isobel would have her choice of husbands.
Her uncle knew it, and Beaumont knew it, too.
Once the earl had taken his leave, she sought out her uncle, who had retreated to his study, giving her tongue free rein. “How could you? She’s only sixteen, for God’s sake.” She turned to her aunt standing quietly near the desk. “Aunt Mildred, have you nothing to say? What about Isobel’s feelings on the matter?”
