Beauty in Breeches(19)
Beatrice gave her a truly dubious look. ‘If our relationship so far is anything to go by, I very much doubt it. I think you are being too optimistic, Lady Merrick. Even Julius would challenge that statement.’
Lady Merrick chuckled softly, her eyes dancing with mischief as she enfolded Beatrice in a brief, almost protective hug. ‘I have not always lived a life that was beyond reproach, Beatrice. Far from it. No matter what people are saying about you, I think that you are very brave. You, my dear, as young as you are, have managed to achieve that which all the other women can only dream about. To secure Julius.’
‘Does he not have any family?’
Pain slashed Lady Merrick’s features and she sat back from her. ‘He has no family, Beatrice—no one close.’
There was something in her voice that made Beatrice look sharply at her. ‘No one?’
‘There…was a tragedy—some years ago now—when he lost both his parents,’ Lady Merrick told her hesitantly. ‘There was a fire. Julius has never got over it. I do not believe he ever will.’
‘But—that’s truly awful. Will you not tell me what happened?’
‘I think Julius must do that. But it may help you to understand what drives him. His life has not been easy. As a boy he was bright, with a thirst for knowledge that put others to shame. Even though his family was financially destitute—which was down to his father, who was a wastrel and a spendthrift—he had a good education thanks to his maternal grandmother. At the end of it he’d learned all he could about the world of business and finance, and, with a small sum of money his grandmother had given him on his eighteenth birthday, he left home for the Continent to seek his fortune and to bring some pride and honour back to the Chadwick name.
‘He lost himself in his work with a blind, instinctive faith as his only hope for survival. His skills were quite extraordinary. Julius has the ability to calculate huge columns of figures in his mind in moments. His achievements are quite remarkable. Yes, he gambles—it is the challenge he loves best, of selecting exactly the right venture and wagering a fortune on it, not, as you believe, at the tables. His wealth has brought him many luxuries, but little joy. That is something I would like you to remember, Beatrice, in the days ahead.’
With her mind on what Lady Merrick had told her, knowing she had given her much to think about, Beatrice’s heart gradually began to fill with warmth for the man whose name she was soon to bear. True, he was guarded and frequently distant and unapproachable, but the more she contemplated the matter, the more convinced she became that Lady Merrick was right—Julius must care for her a little, or he’d never have succumbed to her forfeit. But in the light of all this, the one thing that didn’t make sense was his reputation as a gambler. None of what she had been told fitted with the man who had gambled and won Larkhill from her father.
‘He never speaks of his past,’ Lady Merrick went on. ‘He is a private person. He refuses to discuss his personal life—not even with me and my husband, even though we are the closest he has to a family of his own. Julius is a man of impeccable integrity, honour, dignity and respect. His mother meant everything to him. He has been much affected by her death and by the world in such ways as few others are. He is a clever man and true to what he believes. You could not be marrying a finer man.’
Chapter Five
Julius called the next day as Beatrice was leaving the drawing room to go up to her room.
‘I do hope you’re not leaving on my account,’ said a deep unperturbed voice behind her.
Beatrice whirled in surprise. The pleasure at seeing him again after so long and being able to speak to him was eclipsed by her growing panic about the forthcoming nuptials, a panic she’d been trying unsuccessfully to stifle for days. He stood in the centre of the hall, a tall, slender-hipped, broad-shouldered man. Attired in a tan jacket, buff-coloured breeches and Hessian boots, Julius Chadwick was as handsome of physique as he was of face. His chiselled features were touched by the light, and a gentle ache in her bosom that grew and grew attested to the degree of his attractiveness.
‘I wasn’t—I mean, I’m not,’ she said falteringly, walking towards him.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he regarded her with mild curiosity. ‘I apologise for not calling on you before now, but I had several pressing matters of business to attend to. Since I have no engagements this morning, I thought I would come and see how you are bearing up.’
His tone was impeccably polite, impersonal and businesslike. Relieved but wary, Beatrice’s reply was coolly polite, but when she raked her copper curls back from her face, her hand was shaking. ‘Perfectly well, as you see.’
Watching her unconscious gesture, Julius did see and he studied her. Sunlight slanting through the windows glinted on her hair, gilding it with a golden sheen, and turned her magnificent eyes luminous bright green. The deep yellow of her gown flattered her creamy complexion and the peach tint glowing in her cheeks.
In a long-suffering voice, Beatrice said, ‘Will you please not look at me like that?’
‘Like what?’
‘As if you’re searching for all my flaws.’
‘Was I doing that?’ he asked absently, noting her high cheekbones, the delicately arched brows, thick sooty lashes and the fullness of her soft lips.
‘Yes, you were and it makes me feel uncomfortable.’
His eyes took on a sudden gleam of suppressed laughter and Beatrice assumed, mistakenly, that he was laughing at her. She lifted her chin to its haughtiest and most obstinate angle. ‘Don’t do it and will you please take me seriously.’
Julius sobered immediately at her imperious tone. ‘I’m going to marry you. That’s serious enough—although it’s hardly the most auspicious start to a marriage and don’t imagine for one minute that it will be smooth sailing.’
Lady Merrick appeared and fussed over his arrival and ushered them into the drawing room while she went to supervise the unpacking of some of Beatrice’s gowns that had just arrived.
Closing the double doors behind them, Julius waited for Beatrice to be seated. Instead of sitting down, he perched a hip on the arm of a chair opposite, crossed his arms over his chest and studied her impassively.
‘You are comfortable here, I hope.’
‘Yes, thank you. Lord and Lady Merrick have made me feel very welcome.’
‘I knew they would, but if you are to be my wife you have to face society some time. Since you have a scandal hanging over your head I suggest the sooner we are seen together the better. For your first public appearance I have accepted an invitation for us to attend the Earl and Countess of Newland’s ball in St James’s at the end of the week.’
Beatrice paled at the mention of the scandal. ‘I can’t. I have no desire whatever to enter society. I can’t face everyone just yet.’
‘You can and you will,’ he said in his determination to convince her of the feasibility and the necessity of the plan.
Unable to endure his close scrutiny, Beatrice shot out of the chair and, ramrod straight, stood apart from him. With a superhuman effort, she took control of her rampaging ire. She looked straight into his enigmatic eyes. ‘A ball is not a solution. It—it’s a nightmare. I really don’t think I can do that—not with everyone talking about me. I shall encounter curious strangers who will watch my every move, searching for something else to gossip about. I can’t do it.’
‘Yes, you can.’ He spoke in a tone that brooked no argument.
‘And it doesn’t concern you that I shall be flayed alive by wagging tongues?’
Unbelievably, he laughed outright at that. ‘Not a bit. You deserve it.’
His remark made her cheeks flame. It was exactly the sort of thing she would have expected him to say as an act of revenge. ‘And I have no doubt that you will enjoy every minute of my suffering.’
Relinquishing his perch on the chair arm, he stood up straight and captured her gaze. ‘I may be many things, Beatrice, but I am neither cruel nor sadistic. Of course, you don’t have to go through with any of this. You could bring it to an end right now and simply walk away. It’s not too late to cry off.’
‘No.’ She was adamant. ‘How pathetic and desperate I must seem to you if, after all I have put myself through, you could even suggest such a thing and believe I would go along with it. I told you, Julius, if you want to back out of our agreement then you have to do it yourself, for I have no intention of walking away now I have come this far.’
Julius shrugged. ‘Then it looks like we’re stuck with each other—for better or worse.’
‘That’s exactly what it looks like. But do not forget that in the eyes of the ton I am a shameless wanton and unfit to mingle in polite society. I have broken all the rules governing moral conduct, so if you still insist on parading me in front of everyone like some—some performing puppet, then go ahead.’