them were his parents, the Earl and Countess of Aylesbury. And after them, some of the rest of the family. They’d come en masse, apparently, but then they were a large family.
Thomas caught himself frowning. He doubted he’d be able to get any time alone with Beatrix.
Except something magical happened. Her gaze met his. Surprise flashed in their hazel depths, followed by a question. Why are you here?
Thomas gave a tiny shrug and, barely inclining his head, moved toward the corner. She did the same. A few moments later, they met.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Beatrix said.
He surveyed her from head to toe, appreciating her smart sage-green walking gown trimmed in a blue so dark, it was nearly black. She looked elegant, and the ensemble made her appear taller, perhaps because of her high straw hat with its trio of feathers. “I was hoping to see you.”
“Oh.” A smile teased her lips. “That’s nice. This is, er, strange.”
“Because it isn’t dark and you’re wearing a gown?”
“Nor are you in a mask. It’s like we’re normal people.” She laughed softly, and he joined her.
He glanced around, knowing they wouldn’t have much time alone. Furthermore, they hadn’t been officially introduced, so they oughtn’t be talking at all. He got straight to his purpose. “I saw you leaving your father’s yesterday afternoon. What happened?”
She blew out a breath, and he could have sworn he heard the barest whisper of a curse. “It was an abysmal failure.”
“Tell me.” Even before he heard what transpired, Thomas wanted to pummel the man into the ground.
“It’s a very long story, beginning with my revealing my identity to my half brother at the masquerade.”
“You did?”
“I had to. He was going to speak to Rafe about courting me.” She made a slight face, scrunching her mouth.
Thomas wondered if he was going to have to pummel her half brother too. “What did he say?”
“He was remarkably supportive, if you can imagine that. He said he would accompany me to see our father, so we arranged to meet at his house.”
Thomas had a hard time imagining it, actually, but was glad. “I saw Lady Gresham was with you as well.”
“I was trying to be proper.” Beatrix let out an unladylike snort. “Not that it mattered. The duke has no interest in getting to know me or in reestablishing any kind of relationship. He was rather cruel about it.”
Yes, definitely a pummeling. Thomas flexed his hands. Not that he would actually commit violence. He could not. “I’m so sorry, Beatrix,” he said softly, aching to smooth the agitated lines from her forehead.
A weak smile lifted her lips. “It was a dream I should have known would never come true.”
Thomas’s hand curled into a fist. The man had ruined Beatrix’s dreams. Just as Thea had ruined Thomas’s.
He was running out of time, and he still needed to ask about the future of their friendship. “I wondered if you planned—”
“Rockbourne!” His aunt’s voice reached him just before she did.
Stiffening, Thomas exchanged a charged glance with Beatrix before looking toward his aunt. “Aunt Charity.”
Aunt Charity blinked at Thomas expectantly.
“Aunt, this is Miss Beatrix Whitford.”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” Aunt Charity said.
Thomas looked to Beatrix. “Allow me to present my Aunt Charity, Mrs. Holcomb.”
Beatrix dipped a curtsey. “I’m pleased to meet you.” Then her gaze drifted to the right and widened slightly.
Thomas followed her line of sight and saw her sister, Sheffield, and some of his family. Lady Gresham was looking at Beatrix and now she was studying Thomas, her brow creased.
“Please excuse me,” Beatrix said. “It was lovely to meet you both.” Then she was gone, hurrying to the other side of the vestibule.
“Ready?” Thomas asked, offering Aunt Charity his arm.
She curled her hand around his sleeve. “Yes.” She glanced after Beatrix before directing her attention forward as Thomas guided her outside.
“She seemed lovely,” Aunt Charity observed.
“Yes,” Thomas said as they crossed the street.
“Did you just meet her?”
“Not exactly. I danced with her at the masquerade the other night.” The second the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn’t said them. He cast a wry look at his aunt. “You possess an uncanny ability to get me to disclose things I would normally not.”
She laughed gaily. “I’m delighted to hear it, my dear. I hope you know you can trust me.” She squeezed his arm. “Truly.”
He did know that, which was probably why he’d told her about the dance. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t realize you’d gone to the masquerade. That’s wonderful! So you