went to bed,” Papa told her when she sought him out. “Something about needing her beauty sleep.”
How ridiculous, Beatrice thought. She must have been upset.
“Are you staying on awhile, Papa?”
He glanced at the countess and the two exchanged a smile. “No,” he said with a profound look of disappointment. “The countess has no more tasks for me and I cannot avoid the meetings in town any longer. Roger will have laid the plans before the potential investors but I need to be there to answer their questions.”
“Perhaps you will be able to stop here again before the girls actually have to leave,” the countess suggested. “Havenhall is only a few hours’ travel from London, not such a great detour.”
“Please, Papa, insist that Roger come, too,” Beatrice added. “He works much too hard.” As she spoke Beatrice watched the countess tuck her arm in the crook of Mr. Brent’s elbow.
Beatrice closed her eyes. For the love of God, they are having an affair. Of a sudden, she was sure of it. The way they looked at each other made her think of the way Lord Destry looked at Cecilia, as though looking was not going to be enough.
“Will I see you at breakfast, Papa?”
“If you are up early.”
“I will be there at six o’clock, then.”
“No, Beatrice,” her godmother countered, “I think nine will be quite early enough.”
Papa was always up when the cock crowed. But apparently not tomorrow. What would the others say when they saw him at breakfast? She must talk to Cecilia.
With a fond if slightly embarrassed good night to her father and the countess, Beatrice left the room. Mrs. Kendrick and the earl were discussing something in the passage, and were apparently on their way to bed as well.
Beatrice reasoned that if they were going to the same bed they would not need to stand here to converse. Of course they could be discussing whose bed would be more comfortable.
She giggled at the thought. Her level of sophistication would move up several levels before this party was over. Look at her—she was no longer shocked but laughing, all right, giggling, at the idea of a love affair.
Cecilia was still dressed when Beatrice reached their room, though Darwell was in the small dressing room, ready to help her disrobe. Ceci was staring into the mirror, a distant look in her eyes.
Beatrice went into the dressing room. “Darwell, Ceci and I will help each other this evening. You may leave now.”
Darwell was shocked.
“Yes, I know it verifies that we are not born with a title or raised to be waited on, but it is only one night. I promise that tomorrow I will be as demanding as a duke’s daughter.”
Darwell shook her head, even though her lips twitched with a smile. “You are impertinent, Miss Beatrice, but charmingly so. Thank you, miss, I will say good night and be here in the morning.”
“We are to meet Papa for a farewell breakfast at nine o’clock.”
“Miss Cecilia will not ride in the morning?” They both looked at Cecilia, who had not heard a word they said.
“Perhaps in the afternoon, Darwell,” Beatrice spoke for her sister. “It promises to be a cool day.”
Darwell nodded and with a worried glance at Cecilia moved toward the door. “I trust you understand your sister well enough to deal with her distress.”
“Yes, I do, Darwell. And thank you for your understanding and concern.”
“Do not thank me, Miss Beatrice. It is so plebeian.”
“Yes, I know, but I keep forgetting that I am not supposed to.” Beatrice smiled as the oh-so-proper lady’s maid shook her head in resignation and left the room. Darwell was probably more of a lady than she was.
Beatrice walked over to her sister, who had gone from staring into the mirror to looking out the window.
Standing next to her twin, Beatrice said nothing, waiting for Ceci to speak first.
“I know that all I have to offer a gentleman are my looks and a healthy body for bearing children,” Cecilia began. “But you know there is still a person inside who worries and loves like everyone else.”
When Cecilia turned to face her sister her eyes were glazed with tears. “Yes, the first thing anyone notices about me is that I am pretty,” she continued. “Even knowing how meaningless that is, I did virtually the same thing. I judged a man by his rank and appearance.”
Beatrice was so taken aback by Cecilia’s comment she had no answer. Though she was certain of one thing. “You have far