“I love you, Henry,” Algernon said wearily.
Henry glanced up at him as his shoulders drooped.
“And I love you,” Henry muttered. “Now go. Before you see something that sours your stomach.”
As he said so, a young gentleman Algernon did not recognize took the seat he’d just vacated. He was young, probably around Henry’s age, with sky blue eyes and well-styled blonde hair. He was dressed in the latest men’s fashion just as Henry was, and his smile was wide and inviting as he drew Henry’s attention.
“Fancy another drink, my lord?” the gentleman asked.
Henry’s answering smile was warm as he looked at the man.
“Such a talent you have to read a person’s mind,” Henry replied playfully.
Wanting to hear and see no more, even though he thought Henry had drunk enough that night, Algernon turned his back to them and left White’s.
On the carriage ride home, Algernon’s thoughts bounced from his brother to Beatrice. Her kiss had been perfection. It had both taken his breath away and given him a shock of life at the same time. It bothered him greatly how much he’d been affected by such a kiss. A kiss like that could make any man fall for her—even him—and that would simply not do.
Yet even as he thought so, he wondered if Beatrice would even be given the chance to try her kiss on Henry. Algernon pictured it and grimaced as a surprising feeling of discomfort shot through his chest. He rubbed at it, thinking it was a physical pain, and shoved the thought away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“How have your lessons with Mrs. Sheer going?” Algernon asked.
The question came out gruffer than he attended, but when he saw Beatrice come down the stairs in her new taffeta heather purple gown, matching silk ribbon choker, and styled hair, he felt his body react instantly to her beauty. She was beautiful before to be sure, but there was no mistaking that the woman was born to be a lady draped in finery.
“Very well,” Beatrice answered.
Despite her positive answer, Algernon could detect the nervousness in her tone.
“You have nothing to be anxious about,” he murmured as he walked by her side. “You are better equipped now to deal with such a formal dinner.”
“Yes,” Beatrice whispered, “but this dinner has more people. I feel as if I am back at the beginning.”
“They are close friends to our family,” Algernon assured her. “You have nothing to fear. Besides, it is not their attention you must attain but Henry’s. Relax yourself. All will be well.”
Beatrice nodded as she drew in a steadying breath. She walked with him silently to the parlor where Henry and their other guests waited. He invited Henry’s boyhood friend, Charles, Lord Upton, and his wife, Claire—who were both in their early twenties—and Emerson, Lord Cummings and his wife, Elaine. Emerson was a tad older, closer to Algernon’s age than Henry’s, and Algernon had been doing cordial business with the man’s family since they were both early graduates from Oxford.
To Algernon’s relief, Henry rose from his seat the moment Beatrice stepped into the room and eagerly approached her.
“Beatrice,” Henry said taking her hand as he bowed respectfully toward, “how lovely to see you again. And in such a beautiful gown!”
Algernon’s tense shoulders eased a little as he heard the clarity in Henry’s voice. Unlike the last time they had met, he seemed quite sober.
“The pleasure is all mine, Henry,” she replied in kind, curtseying toward him. “And might I say, I adore your jacket. It matches your eyes perfectly!”
Algernon immediately noticed how his little brother’s eyes sparkled at the praise.
“You noticed? That precisely why I had it made!” he replied eagerly. “You have such a good eye, Beatrice, but then again, I could tell that by the first time we met. You are a keen observer.”
Seeing how quickly and casually Beatrice and Henry fell into conversation, Algernon relaxed a little more, and a moment later, he introduced Beatrice to everyone else. As she did with Henry, she picked something out on each person’s attire to compliment and quickly earned the affection.
So far so good,Algernon silently mused as he watched the other five individuals move seamlessly into casual conversation. Still, he kept close. He’d made up a story to his friends about Beatrice’s background, claiming that she had been raised in Paris by a kind aunt after her parents died at a young age. Eventually though, they would ask her personal questions, and he wanted to be there in case she began to flounder.
“Elaine and I were so happy to receive your invitation, Algernon,” Emerson stated.
Algernon forced his gaze away from Beatrice and Henry to look at his friend and gave a nod.
“Yes, well, I only realized recently just how little time I have spent with my brother and our friends, and I decided that needed to be remedied,” Algernon replied.