Page 74 of A Scandalous Bargain
Chapter 13
Beatrix turned the page, the rustling of the parchment hanging in the air longer than normal because the house felt so very silent. Because Selina and Harry had chosen to spend their wedding night at his house on Rupert Street so they could have privacy.
Not for the first time that night, Beatrix wondered if she should have sent Tom a note. He could have come to visit…
Sighing, she refocused her attention on the page.
“Miss Whitford?” Culpepper, the butler who so capably oversaw the Spitfire house, as Beatrix thought of it, stepped into the garden room.
She looked up from her book, smiling. “Yes?”
“There is a…message for you.” His brow furrowed, and he glanced back over his shoulder.
Beatrix set the book on the table beside her chair. “Is this a written message or a verbal one?”
“I’m not certain. There is a…gentleman here to deliver it.”
That sounded strange, particularly at this hour. Beatrix glanced at the clock. It was half ten. “Are you concerned about this gentleman?”
“Not really. He does, in fact, seem like a gentleman. But when I asked for his card, he said he didn’t have one.”
Beatrix rose quickly, almost certain as to this mystery gentleman’s identity. Who else would visit her at this hour and decline to identify himself? “Please show him in.” Anticipation heated her blood and quickened the pace of her heart.
Tom strode into the garden room, his hat pulled low over his eyes, his form cloaked in unrelenting black, including a great coat that covered his suit of clothing. He wasn’t unrecognizable by any measure, but that was because she knew him. To anyone else, he looked like a man who was trying to escape notice.
Beatrix stood and went to the door, walking close by Tom as she passed. Culpepper lingered outside. She gave him a bright smile. “This gentleman is quite known to me—an old friend of the family. Thank you for showing him in.” She closed the door without waiting for the butler to respond.
Turning, she waited for Tom to face her. When he did not, she began to feel alarmed.
“Tom?” she asked tentatively, moving toward him. Upon reaching his side, she touched his arm gently.
He pivoted, sweeping his hat off. His face was drawn and a bit pale, adding to her concern. “Where is your sister?”
“Not here. She and Harry are spending their wedding night at his house. They wanted privacy. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Everything is terrible,” he whispered. “I wanted you to come tonight, needed you to. But I knew you wouldn’t.”
She touched his cheek. “What’s happened?”
“Bow Street returned today. They know I lied.”
“I don’t understand. How did you lie?”
“About the night Thea died.”
Beatrix momentarily forgot to breathe. “They know I was there?”
He shook his head. “Not that. I didn’t tell them exactly what happened. Nor did I tell you.” He looked at her with such darkness, such despair that her heart nearly split in two.
She pushed her hand against his face. “You’re cold. And shaking. You need tea.”
“No. Just you.” He gently cupped the sides of her head. “I only need you.”
He could mean a variety of things—that he wanted to just be in her presence, that he wanted to tell her what had happened that night, that he wanted the easy camaraderie they shared. But he’d saidneed. And he’d said it in such a way that led her to believe he meant one thing in particular.
She clasped his gloved hand and turned with him, leading him from the garden room. Instead of taking him to the staircase, she made her way to the back stairs. Up two flights, she didn’t let him go. Neither of them said a word.
On the second floor, she opened the door to the corridor and pulled him to her chamber. Unlike Selina, she didn’t have a lady’s maid. No one would bother them. And Selina wasn’t home.
