few mornings, lest she run into him, which makes her restless and irritable.”
“He can be a pest when he has an idea he will not let go of.”
“I don’t think he was pestering her, but they will never make a connection if she keeps on ignoring him.” She considered telling Olivia about Cecilia’s realization that she had judged the marquis in such a superficial way, but then decided that it was her sister’s “secret.”
“Do you think they are well suited?”
Now there was a direct question.
“I think they should have the opportunity to find out instead of avoiding each other.” She came closer to Olivia. “What is just as bad is that Lord Destry seems to accept the situation. He went to that prizefight with the other gentlemen yesterday when it was the perfect opportunity to stay behind, and I do not know where he was last night when we played charades.”
“He was in the small ballroom practicing his juggling,” Olivia explained. “It’s the skill he is going to demonstrate tonight.”
“Juggling?” Beatrice asked, distracted for a moment. “I suppose it does suit someone who has trouble sitting still.” As did riding.
“And today the marquis is fishing with Lord Jess and Lord Belmont. Mrs. Kendrick went with them, but no matter how much I begged, the countess would not let us go with them.”
Which was a vast disappointment since the countess had always been inclined to favor opportunities that would broaden their experience. Neither she nor Cecilia had any idea how to fish.
Olivia looked at her slyly. “I find it fascinating that you and Jess are placed together. Someone thinks of you as a couple even if you are standing at his back and he is pretending not to know that you are there.”
“Pretending?”
“Of course.” Olivia’s matter-of-fact shrug almost convinced Beatrice, who had originally thought the placement was a hurtful comment. “Jess is fascinated by you.”
Beatrice’s heart gave a leap. “Me? He is fascinated by me?”
“He was telling me all about your explanation of Rembrandt’s drawings, and how clever you were the night of the Frankenstein discussion. A man does not talk about such things unless he is intrigued.”
Beatrice wanted to race off to the fishing stream and corner Lord Jess. She wanted answers to all her questions, first and foremost why he was both interested and not inclined to even look at her. Was it because he felt the same intense longing that ran through her when they were together? Hardly; the man was far more experienced in the ways of the world than she was.
“Beatrice?” Olivia’s tone made it clear that it was not the first time she had called out her name. “I think we must find a way to encourage your sister to at least look at William. He will never force himself on anyone. I know this for a fact since he once proposed to me when he thought I was in need of rescue from disgrace. But he did not seem at all upset when I declined, without much tact I might add.
“Then Mia and William decided to marry without thinking at all about the difference between friendship and marriage. They were much too like-minded, both eager for the next adventure and willing to risk everything to enjoy it. If they had married, it would have been a disaster!”
“Two proposals?” How many different proposals had the man made? Two made him sound as though he could not make up his mind. If he was that quixotic, then he would not do at all for her sister, who needed a loving and loyal husband above all else.
Olivia must have read her thoughts for she bounced out of her chair and moved closer, taking Beatrice’s hands. “Do not blame William. He was not treated well by his grandfather, who played all sorts of games to convince him to marry me.” Olivia sighed and shook her head. “I cannot imagine having a grandfather who told you that the family would be better off if you died and the dukedom went to some distant cousin in the Bahamas.”
His grandfather had actually said that? How awful.
“Sometimes,” Olivia went on in a voice that was more speculative than certain, “sometimes I think William is so wild because he doesn’t think it matters if he lives or dies. Loving the right woman could change that. But the right woman was not me or Mia Castellano.”
Olivia’s musings made Beatrice see the marquis in a different way, certainly with more sympathy than before.
“Anyway,” Olivia said