Page 57 of A Scandalous Bargain
“Rockbourne!” His aunt’s voice reached him just before she did.
Stiffening, Thomas exchanged a charged glance with Beatrix before looking toward his aunt. “Aunt Charity.”
Aunt Charity blinked at Thomas expectantly.
“Aunt, this is Miss Beatrix Whitford.”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” Aunt Charity said.
Thomas looked to Beatrix. “Allow me to present my Aunt Charity, Mrs. Holcomb.”
Beatrix dipped a curtsey. “I’m pleased to meet you.” Then her gaze drifted to the right and widened slightly.
Thomas followed her line of sight and saw her sister, Sheffield, and some of his family. Lady Gresham was looking at Beatrix and now she was studying Thomas, her brow creased.
“Please excuse me,” Beatrix said. “It was lovely to meet you both.” Then she was gone, hurrying to the other side of the vestibule.
“Ready?” Thomas asked, offering Aunt Charity his arm.
She curled her hand around his sleeve. “Yes.” She glanced after Beatrix before directing her attention forward as Thomas guided her outside.
“She seemed lovely,” Aunt Charity observed.
“Yes,” Thomas said as they crossed the street.
“Did you just meet her?”
“Not exactly. I danced with her at the masquerade the other night.” The second the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn’t said them. He cast a wry look at his aunt. “You possess an uncanny ability to get me to disclose things I would normally not.”
She laughed gaily. “I’m delighted to hear it, my dear. I hope you know you can trust me.” She squeezed his arm. “Truly.”
He did know that, which was probably why he’d told her about the dance. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t realize you’d gone to the masquerade. That’s wonderful! So you met Miss Whitford there.”
It wasn’t a direct question, so he didn’t answer it. “She is Lady Gresham’s sister.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I shall keep my opinions and hopes to myself—mostly. It’s good you came out today, if only because you encountered Miss Whitford. Perhaps there’s a reason for that.” She tossed him a wide grin.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “I am no closer to desiring a new wife today than I was last week. Dancing and going to church make me feel normal, and for now, normal is good.” Normal was great, peaceful. He hadn’t felt that in years.
“Very well,” Aunt Charity said, sounding a trifle disappointed. “I’m just pleased you are feeling good. That is all that matters to me in the end.”
As they made their way along Grosvenor Street, he wished he’d been able to finish his conversation with Beatrix. Or did he? That could have been the end of things. But now he could make the excuse that he wasn’t sure if their friendship would continue or not? Since they’d both seemed pleased to see the other, was it too much to hope that they weren’t finished?
“Since you are getting out,” Aunt Charity said, “perhaps you’d consider attending Lady Exeby’s picnic at Hyde Park.”
Thomas didn’t know a thing about it. “When is that?”
“Thursday. Perhaps Miss Whitford will be there.”
“Aunt Charity. No matchmaking. Please.”
She lifted her free hand, palm facing out. “My apologies. I am only looking out for your welfare. I know you don’t necessarily want a wife at present, but you do accept that you need one eventually, yes?”
He refused to commit to an answer.
“You need an heir.”
