“Of course, Your Grace,” she replied, giving him a low curtsey. “I shall deliver them myself.”
“Very good. Now please, if you could go? The lady and I have important business to discuss. One of the maids?—”
“Mira,” Beatrice could not help but interject. “Her name is Mira, Your Grace.”
She expected him to throw her a scolding look, but to her surprise, he simply gave her a single nod of acceptance.
“Mira,” he specified, “is out in the hall. She will show you to the door.”
Beatrice watched as the modiste hurried from the room, the poor woman’s face growing redder by the second.
“That was quite the chore,” Elara sighed as she and Algernon were left alone. “I am starting to understand why ladies of thetonhave little time to clean their own homes.”
Algernon chortled.
“From what I understand, ladies can spend the better part of a day at the Modiste,” he answered. “No doubt being tricked into buying pretty accessories they do not need.”
“So that is the true reason you had her come here,” Beatrice said with a grin. “To save your coin.”
“That is as good a reason as any,” Algernon countered. “Another is that Henry has always had a good eye for fashion, both for men and women alike. As you might have seen the other night, he was impeccably dressed and is always as such. We need you wearing something that is both in fashion and will allow you to stand out in order to catch his eye.”
The weight of such a responsibility felt heavy on Beatrice’s shoulders. She’d never tried to catch a man’s eye. Never wanted to for that matter.
“Something is wrong,” Algernon stated, studying her face. “Speak.”
Beatrice’s eyes snapped up to his, and she glowered at him.
“I am not a dog,” she retorted, crossing her arms, “You cannot just bark orders and expect me to follow them.”
Algernon’s nostrils flares as his left eye twitched. He gritted his teeth then clucked his tongue as he shoved his hands into his pockets, as if he was trying to fight his temper.
“You are right,” he admitted, appearing disgruntled by the fact.
He cleared his throat and forced himself into a casual stance.
“Beatrice, would you please be so kind as to tell me what is on your mind?” he asked with an obviously forced calm.
Beatrice relaxed and even smiled at his politeness.
“Thank you for asking properly, Your Grace,” she replied kindly and almost giggled when Algernon rolled his eyes.
“To answer your question, I am feeling quite nervous about our plan,” she confessed. “I have never been on such display before, and even with your lessons, I fear I will somehow make a fool of myself. Your brother, from what you told me, has a keen eye for ladies, and I am worried that I might not be up to his standards.”
She waited, expecting Algernon to roll into one of his speeches about how he had everything in order and as long as she followed his commands, she would be just fine. Instead, she was surprised to see a bit of compassion bloom in his dark green eyes, and he relaxed in his stance.
“You and I do not know one another very well. Can we agree on that?” he asked.
“Of course,” she replied quickly. “It was barely a week ago that you purchased me at auction.”
Algernon winced at her words.
“I hate how you put that, but I suppose there is no other way to describe how we met,” he murmured. He let out a sigh, shook his head, then lifted his gaze to hers again.
“I asked because even though we barely know one another, I am already aware that you are a unique person,” he went on. “My brother needs unique. It is good to have you look and play the part of a lady, and I will help you do so, but I promise you that it is your spirit, not your manners or your dress, that will capture my brother’s heart the most.”
Beatrice found herself surprisingly comforted by his words.
“Did you know I was… ‘unique’ when you bought me?” she asked.