Beauty in Breeches - By Helen Dickson Page 0,64
He would take her to Highfield. He was eager to show Beatrice her new home. She would be happy there—they would be happy together. They would make their marriage work. They had to. If he wanted his family name and the title to continue, he must start providing heirs. He wanted his life to have meaning, to have a real marriage—meaningful and lasting, a wife and children and love—not the empty relationships that passed for marriage in society.
He wanted Beatrice more than he’d wanted anyone in his life. At thirty-one years of age and after more affairs than he cared to remember, he had fallen victim to an outrageously spirited, beautiful girl who blithely incurred his displeasure, amused and infuriated him as no other woman had ever done. He had started off determined to gain the upper hand, but somehow she had managed to get him by the throat.
He was driven by a ridiculous eagerness to see her, as if his life depended on it. At last the carriage pulled up outside his house and he got out, smiling to himself when he saw the Merrick carriage in front. No doubt Constance was calling on Beatrice. He was glad his young wife had had company in his absence.
He let himself in as Constance was on the point of leaving. In the process of pulling on her gloves, she stopped and stared at him in shocked amazement.
‘Why—Julius! You’re back! Why didn’t you let us know you were arriving today?’
He grinned, embracing her warmly. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. It’s taken me longer than I expected tracking down that damned ship. How is Beatrice? She is well, I hope?’
Lady Merrick became flustered as she considered how best to explain Beatrice’s absence. ‘I—I expect she is—but…’
He was no longer smiling as servants began moving quickly in all directions to inform those who didn’t know that the master was home. ‘Expect? What are you saying, Constance?’
‘Beatrice isn’t here, Julius. She’s—at Larkhill.’
For a moment Julius was unable to absorb the full shock of what she said. In a low, deadly voice, he said, ‘What did you say?’
‘That Beatrice is at Larkhill.’
‘But I specifically told her I wanted her to remain here in London until my return. I was under the impression that she would do just that.’
‘Oh but she did—at first,’ Lady Merrick said defensively.
‘When did she leave?’
‘Shortly after she received your letter telling her you would be away for some time.’
‘And have you heard from her since she left?’
Lady Merrick shook her head. ‘No, but then I didn’t expect to. I called today on the off chance, thinking she might have returned.’
Furious with Beatrice for refusing to yield to his authority, Julius strode into the drawing room and poured himself a large brandy. Sinking into a chair, he drank deep, but the fiery liquid did nothing to soothe his raw nerves.
Having followed him, Lady Merrick saw the harshness in his taut features and sighed with helpless understanding. ‘I know how displeased you must be about this, but can you really blame her? London is all very well, but Beatrice is a country girl at heart. Be honest with yourself, Julius. It must have crossed your mind that she would go to Larkhill.’
‘As a matter of fact it didn’t. When I told her to remain here I expected her to abide by my wishes. How dare she even consider disobeying me? How dare she? The conniving little… I should have realised it was no small task expecting her to remain in London when that damned house beckoned.’
In dumbfounded amazement, Lady Merrick stared at him, beginning to understand the reason why he was so furious with Beatrice. It was unbelievable that Julius, who had always treated women with a combination of easy indulgence and amused tolerance, could have fallen victim to the same kind of feelings that affected the rest of the human race. Apparently this self-confident, invulnerable man had lost his heart to his own wife.
She suppressed the urge to smile. ‘Did you not realise that with Beatrice’s need for control, such an order would only make her feel pressured into defying you? What do you intend to do about it?’
‘Right now I can think of several things that are appealing—one of them being to wring her neck and another to go after her and drag her off to Highfield and put her under lock and key.’
Lady Merrick sighed and shook her head. ‘I can imagine what society would make of that—more grist for the