Page 2 of Beth: A Regency Romance Novell

The butler entered the room carrying a silver tray on which lay a letter and opener. “This has just arrived for you, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Forrester.” Andrew slit it open. He held the single sheet in his hands and read it quickly, deep furrows gathering on his forehead. He looked up. “Jenny, my love, we must return to Oxfordshire. Apparently, William has taken a tumble from one of the horses.”

Beth swallowed a mouthful of buttery egg in alarm. She put down her knife and fork.

Jenny’s chair banged back, as she climbed to her feet. “Is he badly hurt?”

“Hit his head and lost consciousness for a while. But the doctor says here that he’s confident it is merely a bump on the head and severe bruising. Don’t worry, sweetheart. It doesn’t sound at all serious. I’m sure he will be back to health and ready to return to Eton when the school term begins.”

“Oh, I pray that is so. Bumps on the head should not be taken lightly.” Jenny stood with her hands gripping the back of her chair.

“The doctor seems confident it’s not serious, Jenny.” Beth rose to comfort her. Her usually stalwart sister seemed to worry more since their son, George was born.

Jenny clutched her hands together. “As soon as our backs are turned! William had to be watched around the stables when I first came to Castlebridge as his governess,” she explained to Beth, who having lived with them since they married, was already familiar with those fraught times. “He was only nine then and I must say at fourteen, he is still a worry when it comes to horses.”

“William’s a good rider, Jenny,” Andrew said calmly.

“Yes, your son and heir is a bit of a daredevil, like all the Harrow’s.” She glanced disapprovingly at him. “He has probably taken Lightning over a high jump. I’ll go and see to the packing.” She paused halfway to the door to look back at Beth. “You cannot cry off this evening. It will be a dreadful snub. I must find a suitable chaperone for you.” She tapped her cheek. “Now let me see.”

“Surely I shan’t be missed.” Beth grasped at the opportunity to return to the country. “I’ll come home with you. There will be other balls.”

“Nonsense. You must go,” her sister said.

Beth sighed. “Very well.” When Jenny took that tone there was no arguing with her.

“Mrs. Grayshott and her daughter, Phillida are to attend,” Jenny mused. “A kind woman, I’m sure she will be eager to oblige.”

“Phillida won’t present well beside Beth,” Andrew observed.

Beth’s cheeks grew hot at his praise. “Oh, surely not.”

“Yes, that is true,” Jenny agreed. “And Mrs. Grayshott is a terrible chatter-box. But it is only for one evening.”

“I’ll take my coffee in the study, Barker. I have some urgent matters to attend to before we leave.” Andrew paused at the door and glanced at Beth. “You’ll be all right?”

“Of course. You mustn’t give a thought to me. As you say it is only for one evening,” she said, accepting that she must attend the ball. “I only pray that William recovers quickly.”

“I’ll ensure that Mrs. Grayshott’s carriage will bring you back here after the ball. You shan’t be able to receive any morning calls from gentlemen, I’m afraid,” Jenny said. “It shall be a dreadful bore. But only for a day or two. I must send letters of apology and a note around to Mrs. Grayshott immediately.” She opened the door and was gone.

Beth poured herself another cup of tea. She suddenly felt very alone, as the evening loomed ahead, never quite knowing what to say to these sophisticated people. They were so different to those she’d known while growing up in Yorkshire.

Two hours later, she waited beside Forrester in the entrance hall to say farewell to Jenny and Andrew. On the gravel drive outside, the coach awaited, the heads of four restless grays held by the groom.

Dressed in a pelisse of deep rose velvet trimmed with sable, a sable hat on her head, Jenny hurried down the stairs pulling on her gloves. “A note has come from Mrs. Grayshott confirming her carriage will call for you this evening at nine o’clock.” Reaching the marble floor, she kissed Beth’s cheek scenting the air with attar of roses. “I know you will behave with perfect decorum, dearest. You are one of the few members of this large family whom I can rely upon to do so.”

“My nephew George certainly never does,” Beth said with a grin recalling how the little boy giggled and pointed at a visitor’s hat lavishly adorned with fruit and feathers. He’d been removed swiftly in disgrace but remained undaunted. He was unimpressed with the elegant manners of the haute ton, which made Beth laugh. Although his manners would improve, she suspected as the second son and the third child, he would forge his own path and always be a bit headstrong.

“He is to be excused because he is so young,” Jenny said with a frown. She and Andrew’s rambunctious three-year-old son could do no wrong in her eyes.

“I wonder if we will still excuse him when he is fourteen like William?” Andrew asked mildly.

Jenny shook her head at him. “I doubt you will ever punish him severely, Andrew. You will be as tolerant as you are with William.”

At her mention of William’s name, Jenny’s concerned glance met Andrew’s. “I do hope he is all right. We must hurry, my love.”

Andrew came to kiss Beth’s cheek. “Avoid the rakes,” he said with a wink.

“How shall I recognize one?”

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