with a shift of mood, “Mia’s happy marriage to David proves that she needed someone far more restrained than William. Two men could not be more different than William and David.” Olivia laughed out loud at some mental image or comparison. “Excuse me, Beatrice, just a silly memory of the two of them. It still makes me laugh.”
Beatrice wondered if she would ever have a chance to meet the rest of Olivia’s eccentric family.
“We have to find a way to give William one more chance with your sister. Surely we can come up with an idea that will bring them together. A way neither of them can refuse.”
“I suppose,” Beatrice agreed, halfheartedly. “But, Olivia, attraction is one thing. Dealing with the ways that a connection like that would change lives is another matter entirely.” That seemed an obscure but genteel way to address Cecilia’s terror at the idea of being a duchess.
Olivia was lost in thought and did not hear her. “Beatrice, I think I know exactly how to do it.”
Chapter Eighteen
“MY LORD, THE fishing expedition must have been very successful. The servants were quite weighed down with the catch.”
Beatrice Brent spoke to Destry as she came across the lawn from the summerhouse, a book in her hand. That mischievous smile always made him smile back. Beatrice at her most engaging was a delight. Why could he not be fascinated by her instead of her sister?
William dropped the ball he had been playing with and clapped his hands together. “It was an excellent outing all in all, capped by Jess falling into the river. The fish appreciated the entertainment as much as we did.”
“Really? He fell in the river?” Beatrice smiled, though he could see worry in her eyes. As if a man could catch a chill on a day this warm.
The marquis picked up the ball again and began tossing it into the air and catching it. Then he added a second.
“I see that you juggle,” Beatrice said.
“Yes, I do.” He did not care how classless she thought the talent. “It’s what I am going to demonstrate this evening.”
He picked up a third ball and added it to the other two. He managed an impressive string of tosses before he missed one, but made up for it by catching all three and pretending that the display was complete. “I always do better with an audience.”
“Do you use an assistant when you perform?”
“I’ve never performed before, but that’s not a bad idea. If she was pretty enough she would distract the audience from my lack of perfection.” He cocked his head, considering, and then had a brilliant idea. “Do you think your sister would be willing to help me?” It would be one way of getting Cecilia to talk to him. She had been as elusive as a butterfly these last few days.
Beatrice smiled in approval. Had that been what she was aiming for all along?
“I will go ask her now,” she said.
“Excellent.” It could only help to have Cecilia’s sister in his corner. “If I can have her attention for a few minutes before I perform, that would be adequate.”
BEATRICE DID HER best not to run from the lawn and upstairs to find Cecilia. She burst into their bedroom and immediately spotted Cecilia reading in a chair near the window.
“Put that book down, Ceci, and talk to me.” Beatrice waited while her sister complied. She had probably not been reading anyway. Pretending to read was just one more way Ceci had of avoiding conversation when she wanted to think through a problem. She should have been dressing for dinner. Now that was odd. Where was Darwell?
“The marquis was telling me today how nervous he is about demonstrating his skill this evening.” That was a total and complete lie, but if this worked Ceci would never know.
“What is he going to do?” Her sister’s eyes lit with interest.
“He is going to juggle.” She did her best to make it sound like a skill to be admired.
“You mean like a performer at a fair?”
“Yes, doesn’t it sound like fun?”
“Hmmm” was Ceci’s ambiguous response.
“Oh, do not be a snob and say that it sounds common.”
“No, never, but juggling is hardly an intellectual endeavor. I do wonder if the marquis was speaking the truth when he said that he had never read before he suggested we read Frankenstein.”
“His given name is William. Olivia told me.”
“His name is William? Very heroic sounding, is it not?”
“Yes, it is.” That’s better. “He said that he could