be wheeled out on that bower.
Hobbs came into the room and handed her mother something, and she left with him.
Ford slipped his hand lower, over her hip. The impact of that possessive gesture hit her full force in the chest. Yearning filled her heart.
He stroked his thumb over her palm. “So soft.”
She felt both fearless and tentative, the new Beatrice, the one who waltzed with her lover in her mother’s ballroom.
She wanted to run her hands over his bare flesh. She wanted to be shaped by him, in return.
“How’s my favorite little sister?” a gruff voice asked.
Beatrice dropped Ford’s hand and spun around. “Drew!” She raced toward her brother, arms outstretched, and flung herself into his embrace. “You’re back!”
“Beatrice, sweetheart. Let me look at you.” She laughed as her brother held her at arm’s length. “What’s happened while I’ve been away? You’re positively glowing.”
Beatrice glanced at Ford, who had moved back to his work and taken up his hammer. “I’ve been busy.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Where’s Mina?”
“She’s feeling a bit off—went upstairs with mother. She’ll be down soon. What’s all this?”
“Rehearsals for the costume ball tonight.”
“Tonight?” Drew groaned loudly. “Dear God, no.”
“Afraid so. And you know you’ll be expected to attend as the guest of honor. In fact, you’ll probably have to wheel me into the ballroom on that ridiculous contraption over there.”
“What the devil is that?”
“A mobile bower.”
“Wright? Is that you?” Drew asked. “What are you doing here?”
Ford stopped hammering at the floral bower and bowed. “Your Grace.”
“Thought you’d be back at sea by now,” said Drew. “And your father, is he fully recovered?”
“Back on his feet and already repairing the mews.”
“I’d expect no less. So you’re in London and my mother found out and hired you?”
“Actually, Lady Beatrice hired me.”
A puzzled frown appeared on Drew’s face. “Hired you, for what?”
Beatrice hooked her arm into her brother’s elbow. “So many things have happened since you’ve been away. I inherited a bookshop from Aunt Matilda—did you know about her?—and Mr. Wright has been helping me repair the roof and patch the flooring. He’s done a wonderful job! It’s going to be the new clubhouse for the Mayfair Ladies Knitting League, that is if another prospective heir doesn’t win his dubious claim.”
“I’ve been gone too long.” There were mauve shadows under her brother’s eyes and new lines around his mouth.
“My ship arrives day after next,” Ford said. “Before I leave London, I’d like to speak with you on a business matter, Your Grace, but it can wait until tomorrow, after you’ve reunited with your family.”
“Why don’t you join me in the billiard room? I could use a drop of something to calm my stomach. Still feel as though I’m standing on the deck of the ship.”
“I know the feeling,” Ford replied.
The dowager appeared at that moment. “Andrew, my love, you can’t take my carpenter away. Not when I’ve just found him. The bower will be complete by tonight, won’t it, Mr. Wright?”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“Wright, you’ll attend the ball as my guest,” Drew said. “I’ll invite some naval officers. It will do your career good to be seen hobnobbing with dukes.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said Ford stiffly, his back straight. “I don’t own any formal wear.”
Drew clapped him on the back. “It’s a costume ball, so you can wear anything you like and I won’t take no for an answer. You’ll be my guest. And he’ll keep an eye on the bower, Mother. He’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. Wright always gets things done. Now about that drink . . .”
Drew winked at Beatrice and then steered Ford out of the room.
Beatrice knew that Ford had been waiting to talk to her brother. It had been his goal all along. Now that the shop was renovated and her brother had returned, he really had no reason to remain in London.
As her mother chattered about costumes and dance cards, Beatrice couldn’t help thinking that tonight might be the last time she ever saw Ford.
The thought pierced her heart, leaving a pain that was almost physical.
If he attended the ball tonight, she’d be expected to ignore him while lavishing attention on people she was at best indifferent to, and at worst loathed passionately.
She could never ignore Ford.
The seed of an idea began to germinate in her mind. A proper lady was supposed to wait for a gentleman to ask her to dance.
But Ford was no gentleman, and Beatrice no longer followed the rules of propriety.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Thorndon waved away his