Page 58 of Her Tiger of a Duke
Even he seemed surprised by his outburst. He leaned against the wood, steadying his breathing. Had it been any other man, Beatrice might have been frightened, but there was something about her husband that made him impossible to fear. Perhaps it was that she knew beneath all of it was a very good man, one that truly did only want what was best for her.
“If you believe I am in danger,” she said quietly, “I will listen to you. I will not question your decision to protect me. However, when you wish to tell me just what this danger is, know that I will be waiting to hear from you.”
It was not how she wanted to settle the matter. Ideally they would have reached a proper conclusion, but the day was drawing on and much had to be done before they left that night, especially if he was so insistent on fencing off the land.
She returned to the household, and as she entered a maid saw her, rushing to her warmly.
“Are you ready for your bath, Your Grace?”
“Indeed. If you do not mind, might you make it hotter than usual? There is a terrible chill in the air.”
It had been a strange and very quick difference, but it was undeniably there. Beatrice preferred the colder months, for they made the thick and heavy gowns more bearable. Spending a summer evening in the sweltering heat in thick silk was not something she enjoyed at all, and she spent most of them wishing for snow.
That day, however, she wanted the shock of the heat against her skin. She wanted the extra warmth so that she could then relax into it, letting her fears go before she left for the ball. She knew that there would be talk of her, but she could not let it hurt her. She was a duchess, and that changed everything. There could be no allowing people to make her feel small, not when she had every reason to feel important.
“The Duke’s mother liked hotter baths,” the maid said as she stroked a sponge along Beatrice’s arms.
“I must admit, I do not know very much about the Late Duchess. From what I do know, she was a kind lady.”
“Indeed, which perhaps made it easier to sway her opinions. She only ever wanted to make people happy, and it was difficult for her to stand her ground.”
Beatrice understood that all too well. She wished that she had been firmer with Owen, for she was growing tired of him keeping secrets, but it had been easier to walk away and so she had.
At least, in doing so, the ball would be bearable. If Lady Pembroke was as frightening as Mrs. Forsythe described, Beatrice needed her husband by her side. One day, she hoped she would be able to handle such matters herself, but in the meantime, she needed the Duke.
CHAPTER 24
Owen wished that he had been able to maintain his composure, but the more Beatrice spoke, the more he thought of the dangers surrounding them.
It was true that things falling from trees hurt a good deal; his mother had received no end of bruises that way, but he knew it would not be lethal. Once more, he had to battle that part of him that insisted that he had to be afraid of everything that came his way.
Rather, he had to be afraid of everything that could happen to Beatrice.
When he said it to himself in so many words, he felt foolish. Beatrice was not a girl, and she was more than capable of making the right decisions for herself, but that did not stop the awful visions he had of harm being brought to her. Nothing ever did.
Regardless, he had to push those thoughts aside, at least for the night. They had a ball to attend, and he wished for the event to pass with as few annoyances as possible.
“She will be fine,” Mrs. Forsythe said as he waited for Beatrice. “She is far more capable than she is given credit for.”
“I know that, but it is not Beatrice I am concerned about. It is everyone else in attendance. I have seen such a change in her, and I want the ton to see that side of her, rather than the one that is afraid to speak.”
“And it will be so. You know that your position alone commands respect. They will not say a single word against either of you.”
“I know that my position means that it should not happen, not that it will not. Lady Pembroke is not the sort of host I would have wanted for the first ball, and had I known about Beatrice’s family I would have waited. I should have spoken to her first, or at least her friends.”
“Well, you cannot change it now. You have accepted the invitation, and she is adamant that you both attend. All that is left to do now is trust your wife and believe that nothing bad will happen.”
All that Owen had wanted for years was to believe that nothing bad would happen, and yet somehow that was always what happened. He steeled himself for the inevitable, and as he did so his wife appeared.
In an instant, his fears left him. It was only for a moment, but when he saw her in her gown, the one she had helped to design, smiling and ready, he believed that all would be well. Her hair was styled in a way that he had never seen before, but that he knew had to be in fashion, and though he had never cared for it himself, he admired her effort, and he knew the other guests would feel the same.
Remnants of that day’s encounter seemed to vanish, and when she took his arm, he truly believed that the night would be wonderful.
“You look marvelous,” he whispered in her ear, admiring the way her cheeks flushed.
They boarded the carriage, and he noticed that her hands were folded in her lap, her thumbs crossing over one another in quick motions. She was nervous, and he wished that there was something he could do to help her. She already knew that it was unlikely they would receive scorn, and it seemed that she believed that as much as he did.
“Beatrice,” he said calmly, “you know that I will always protect you, do you not?”
