Page 35 of A Scandalous Bargain
“I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”
“I won’t, but I appreciate that.”
They reached the corner of Queen Anne Street. Beatrix stopped but didn’t let go of his hand. “Thank you for seeing me home. I’m glad you were with me. I would not have wanted to face two footpads alone.”
“You might be dead.” He squeezed her hand. “Promise me you won’t endanger yourself like that again. I couldn’t bear it.”
The insistence and desperation in his voice pulled at her heart. She moved closer to him. “I won’t.” The fact was that he wasn’t wrong. She would have been in a great deal of trouble. She could have shot one of them, but then what of the other?
Shoving the dark thoughts away, she summoned a smile. “Good night, then.”
“You’ll send me a note when you want to visit again?”
She nodded, but she wouldn’t. Because there wasn’t going to be an again.
They stared at each other, the night dark and cool around them. She shivered. He bent his head. She parted her lips, certain that he would kiss her now. Finally.
But all he did was tip her hat back and brush his lips against her forehead. Replacing the hat, he let go of her hand and stepped back. “I’m going to watch until you’re inside. Good night, Beatrix.”
“Good night, Tom.” Her body thrummed with unsatisfied need. Nevertheless, she turned and went to the house, where she slipped down the stairs to the basement entrance.
She hurried upstairs and held back the curtain to see if he was still there. He stood on the other side of the narrow street, a tall, shadowy figure.
They watched each other for several minutes before he finally turned and walked back toward Portland Street. When he disappeared from sight, she stepped back and let the curtain fall.
Sadness wrapped around her and snaked down her throat, making it feel scratchy and raw. She wouldn’t cry. This wasn’t an ending, but a beginning. Tomorrow, she and Selina would move to Cavendish Square, to security. And the following night, she would finally meet her father. Her future was assured.
But was it the future she still wanted?
* * *
Regan had bounded into Thomas’s room at an exceptionally early hour. He’d been asleep only a short while since returning from walking Beatrix home. And that was after he’d tossed in his bed for some time before finally dozing off, his mind and body rife with the excitement of his evening with Beatrix.
Evening? It had been the middle of the damn night.
And every moment of it had been positively sublime. Well, noteverymoment. Thinking of the footpad attack still made his heart race as well as sparked his rage. When he’d seen that man grab Beatrix, Thomas had wanted to pound him into oblivion.
He might have too, if not for her intervention. There’d been a note of fear in her voice. Had she seen into the rot inside him? He prayed not. Yet, there had been a finality to their parting last night that made him wonder.
No, that couldn’t be the end of their association, even if it should be.
The invitation to the masquerade ball her brother was hosting tomorrow night sat in the middle of Thomas’s desk. He’d already responded. Last night wasnotthe last time he would see her.
He sat back in his chair and tried, for the dozenth time at least, to reconcile her reaction to the attack. She’d fended off the other assailant quite handily. Thomas had been too focused on beating the man who’d gone after her to see what she’d done to make him run. Or how she’d obtained his pistol.
Thomas thought of the weapon he’d locked in a case in his chamber. Then he thought of Beatrix’s pistol. She’d had a gun! And apparently knew how to use it. He was simultaneously shocked and impressed by her capability. He was also not entirely certain he understood her explanation.
That she was allowed to move about freely after dark, armed with a pistol or not, was concerning. He had a half mind to talk with her sister. But that would almost certainly ensure they wouldn’t meet anymore.
He blew out a frustrated breath. Yet, that’s whatshouldhappen. He was putting her reputation at risk meeting with her like that. Yes, she’d already risked it herself by coming here to spy on her father, but Thomas was now compounding matters. Furthermore, he’d asked her to notify him of further meetings so he could coordinate them. He was rather formally contributing to her potential ruin.
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the desk, then put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.
“My lord?” Baines said softly.
Thomas lifted his head and blinked at the butler. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Holcomb has arrived.”
