noted.” Daniel didn’t regret his actions for a moment. Though he dearly wanted to know if Hurdy knew a woman had escaped that night as well, asking would only incriminate him. He refused to think he’d done anything wrong, but he’d rather Hurdy didn’t know for certain that he was behind the trouble.
Hurdy glared at him for another moment as if expecting him to relent and confess.
“Pierre will show you out. Do let me know when Finch has been arrested. Or should I say if?”
Hurdy stood and heaved a frustrated sigh. “Good day.”
It was only moderately reassuring for Daniel to know he wasn’t the only one frustrated with the situation.
Chapter Thirteen
Beatrice wondered if she’d ever grow accustomed to being with Daniel. A tangle of emotions arose within her each time they were together. Their betrothal seemed to have complicated her feelings because now she had hope for a future brimming with happiness. As she well knew, hope could be dangerous.
Her breath caught when their arms brushed as they walked side-by-side along a path in the extensive gardens of Banfield House. The autumn blooms and foliage were not to be missed and included chrysanthemums, freesia, hydrangeas, and winter jasmine. Caroline told her that Lord and Lady Banfield hosted a garden party in the late spring and early autumn each year to share the vistas with guests.
Lemonade and refreshments were being served and guests wandered the gardens at their leisure. The beauty of the flowers made the afternoon enjoyable, but Daniel’s presence made the outing so much better, just as it had at the musicale two days ago.
“Isn’t that a beautiful rose?” She stopped to admire a pale-yellow bloom.
“Indeed. Lord Banfield has a large greenhouse in addition to the gardens,” Daniel offered as he glanced about. “He considers himself quite the botanist.”
“As he should if all the flowers are his doing.”
This was the first gathering she’d attended without Caroline and Aberland. Caroline had declared she’d seen the garden one too many times and preferred to stay home and rest.
Since she and Daniel hadn’t yet announced their betrothal, Sally accompanied them and seemed to be enjoying the blooms as much as Beatrice. She trailed a short distance behind them.
Beatrice glanced at Daniel from beneath her lashes, searching for a sign that he was bored and would rather be doing something else. He was especially quiet this afternoon. Would she ever feel certain of him or would she always wonder if he regretted his proposal? Yet she couldn’t bring herself to ask for fear of learning the truth.
“Is all well?” Daniel glanced at her, his brow furrowed.
A small laugh escaped her. “I was about to ask you the same. Is something on your mind?” She gripped tight to her courage. “Have I done anything to upset you?” Like saying yes to your proposal.
He stared at her as if baffled by her question. “What would make you think that?”
She glanced about to make certain their conversation was private. Luckily, none of the other guests were nearby and Sally had paused to study some flowers. “I suppose I worry whether you’re having regrets.” There. She’d said what had been uppermost in her thoughts since the moment he’d proposed.
“Beatrice.” He turned to face her, meeting her gaze with an open honesty that sent her heart pounding. “Absolutely not. Are you?”
“No. It’s just—” How could she possibly explain how she felt? Her fear that he’d only asked her to marry him out of pity plagued her, especially in the middle of the night when all she’d been through returned to haunt her. Why would he wish to marry a ruined woman?
“What? Tell me,” he whispered. It wasn’t a demand as much as a plea.
She closed her eyes. This man could undo her with one look. How could she withstand such an assault? She hadn’t intended to tell him any of her thoughts, let alone ask if he was sure about them marrying. She didn’t want to seem as if she were in constant need of reassurance. But she was. She opened her eyes and saw only concern in his gaze. Not pity. That in itself was a relief.
“Are you certain you truly wish to marry me? I worry whether you feel you made a mistake when you proposed.” She forced herself to hold his gaze even as her stomach tightened in a knot.
“No. I know I haven’t. If I’ve done anything to cause you to think that—”
“Nothing of the sort.” If only she could silence her doubt. This