Beauty in Breeches(5)

Curious about her casual, cool manner, yet undaunted, his smile was humorous. ‘I assure you that my flattery was genuine and well meant. It is not flattery to tell the truth.’

Beatrice glanced around. ‘You appear to have attracted a great deal of attention yourself. Why, ladies surround you like moths around a candle.’

He tilted his eyebrows with amusement and leaned forwards so that only she might hear his words. ‘Many moths, but only one rare butterfly. Besides, I have never been partial to moths,’ he murmured, and Beatrice read in his face such evident desire that heat flamed for a moment in her cheeks. A curious sharp thrill ran through her as the force between them seemed to explode wordlessly, but she did not forget who he was or why she was here.

He took a step back from her. ‘So, who have we here?’ he asked, regarding her down the length of his aristocratic nose. Her body was slender but rounded in all the right places and disturbing in its femininity. The swell of her hips was outlined softly beneath the soft folds of her gown and her breasts, exposed just enough above the low neckline, hinted at their firm shapeliness. He had not been so intrigued by a woman in a long time. ‘Will someone not introduce us?’

Beatrice stiffened as his challenging and impertinent eyes sharpened and narrowed in amusement. And did his gaze actually linger on her breasts pushing their way up out of her bodice, or was it only her confused imagination that made it seem that way?

With Henry Talbot by her side, Astrid glanced up at him shyly and said breathlessly, ‘Oh, this is Beatrice, my cousin, Lord Chadwick. She is quite mad about horses. Indeed, she can think and talk of nothing else from morning till night. It comes as no surprise that she is interested in taking you up on your wager.’

Julius arched a brow, smiling. ‘Beatrice?’

‘I am Beatrice Fanshaw,’ Beatrice provided, lifting her chin proudly and looking directly into his narrowed amber eyes. Her own were glowing with brilliance and fire, her gaze never wavering from his face as she awaited his reaction to her announcement.

In a split second his smile was wiped clean from his face and his eyes were now sharp and penetrating with interest and something that resembled shock. The young lady who had so intrigued him a moment before had suddenly taken on a whole new identity. ‘Ah! Fanshaw! Of course. How very interesting. I do recall the name.’

‘You should. My father was Sir James Fanshaw.’

‘I remember your father. However, I was not aware that he had a daughter.’ Already nettled by her cool attitude, Julius delivered his reply with a small bow and an exaggerated show of disdain. ‘It is obvious you know who I am, Miss Fanshaw.’

‘You are Julius Chadwick.’ Her words were firm and measured as she failed to address him with the courtesy of his title. ‘The same man who ruined my father.’

‘And is that what all this is about? You are here to beg me to retrieve all that he lost?’

Something welled up in Beatrice, a powerful surge of emotion to which she had no alternative but to give full rein. It was as if she had suddenly become someone else, someone bigger and much stronger than the woman who had joined the party. Her eyes flashed as cold fury drained her face of colour and added a steely edge to her voice.

‘Those who know me know that I never beg, Lord Chadwick, and by my oath I intend to take more from you than an old man’s loss.’ Her promise was made with an icy, threatening calmness.

Julius looked at her, his face a mask of indignation, but then he was so taken aback by her outburst that his superiority evaporated. He stared down at the lovely young woman whose fury turned her eyes to a darker green.

‘Dear me, Miss Fanshaw. I can see I will have to watch my step.’

‘More than that, my lord. You are the man directly responsible for my father’s death.’

Her attack took him so completely by surprise that he looked startled for a moment and more than a little uneasy, then a hard gleam entered his eyes, for his conscience was sore with the irony of trying to protect the reputation of his own undeserving father while—at least where Miss Fanshaw was concerned—damaging his own. ‘I don’t think so,’ he replied, aware that those around them had fallen silent and were watching and listening with an uneasy, open curiosity. ‘Your father brought about his own death.’ He smiled. ‘It was easy to beat him. He had no skill when it came to cards.’

‘Then why did you allow him to stake Larkhill? You certainly didn’t want it—indeed, you have not spent a penny piece on it since, for it is crumbling with neglect. Do you enjoy taking things from people who are weaker than you—humbling people? In my opinion that is the mark of a coward.’ She took a step towards him and was pleased to see him take a step back.

Not discouraged and ignoring the gasp that went up from the crowd, he gave a bark of laughter. ‘You call me a coward?’

She smiled. ‘Only a coward would do what you did. You knew he couldn’t win. You knew his loss would destroy him. Didn’t that worry you?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘Not unduly. He was a grown man. He knew perfectly well what he was doing when he staked a house and estate that was already mortgaged up to the hilt.’

Beatrice stared at him in disbelief. ‘I might have known you would say something like that to discredit my father, but I do not believe you.’

He shrugged. ‘You may believe what you like, but it is true. I do not lie. I did not find out myself until later—when I had to find the finance to pay off the mortgage.’

Beatrice looked at him directly, finding what he said hard to believe and wondering what sort of man this Julius Chadwick actually was. ‘My father was a man without deceit, a man you could trust, who had fallen on hard times. And you, Lord Chadwick, took advantage of his weakened state. Larkhill meant more to me and my mother than to be put on a gambling table in a seedy gentleman’s club.’

‘It was a private gentleman’s club,’ he countered, needlessly provocative. ‘There was nothing seedy about it.’

‘A gambler would say that. So now you have two homes.’

‘Three, actually.’

Momentarily thrown, she stared at him in amazement. ‘Three? How can one person live in three places at once?’

‘I don’t. I travel a lot,’ he stated by way of explanation. ‘Miss Fanshaw, must I remind you that we have an audience. Might I suggest that you lower your tone? You embarrass us both with your show of emotion. I understand your antagonism towards me, which must have increased a thousandfold as you have allowed it to fester over the years. Indeed, I would feel very much the same were the situation reversed.’

‘I’m glad you understand,’ she uttered scathingly, ‘although it doesn’t alter the way I feel. I am not like my father. If you are a courageous man, you will allow me to accept your wager.’

‘If nothing else, you are forward and recklessly bold, Miss Fanshaw.’

‘I always believe in being direct and I enjoy walking on the wild side. I am sure you find it shocking and unfeminine that I have interest in things beyond petit point and fashion, but that’s the way I am.’

‘I do, but in your case I will overlook your unfeminine interests—but will your aunt, Lady Standish?’

‘I don’t doubt she will flay me alive for daring to intimate that I am anything less than a perfect lady. But a perfect lady I am not and never will be. You are staying at Larkhill?’

‘I am. I’ve been out of the country for several months; now I’m back I intend spending more time in London. I found the time was ripe to visit Larkhill, to look over the property and decide what is to be done.’ A subtle smile curved his lips. ‘There are many factors which might influence how long I stay.’

‘Then I hope you enjoy your stay. So, Lord Chadwick, what do you say? Will you accept my challenge?’

‘I am a huntsman, Miss Fanshaw. I enjoy the chase.’

‘Aye, and once the prey is caught, the sport is over. You should know better than to gamble against my good friend Julius at any game of skill,’ Lord Roderick Caruthers warned. Like everyone else he had been listening to the interesting altercation between these two.

Beatrice looked at Lord Caruthers coolly. ‘Lord Chadwick and I are not acquainted, sir, so how could I possibly know that? But I am sure that if he is as skilled as you say he is, then he will have no qualms about me taking him up on his challenge.’





Chapter Two


Julius smiled at her words. His smile was the same smile that caused Astrid to flush and tremble—but it would take more than a smile from Julius Chadwick to have the same effect on Beatrice.

‘So, Miss Fanshaw, are you really serious about taking me up on my wager?’

‘I would not have put myself forward if I wasn’t—unless you have an aversion to accepting a challenge from a woman, afraid of how it will look should I win.’