“Look at him brooding at us,” Henry goaded, nodding toward Algernon.
Beatrice smiled, but in her heart, she felt nothing but appreciation for Algernon’s gesture. She remembered some of her lessons from her youth, and Mrs. Sheer’s refresher courses had helped her remember proper dining etiquette, but she was still very uncomfortable with conversation. It seemed that what drew socialites together the most was the ability to gossip about another’s poor state, and such an act was terribly foreign to her.
Right away in the parlor Lady Upton took it upon herself to fill Beatrice on all of theton’smost outrageous gossip, and if it was not her doing the tattling, it was Lady Cummings. Henry, as well, eagerly joined in with all he knew. Beatrice laughed when they did and smiled as if she was as equally entertained, but in truth, she was already exhausted and more nervous than ever.
Which was why when Algernon pressed the glass into her hands demanded she drink, she did so without question. The bit of wine soothed her nerves just enough to continue her act.
“He does look most disgruntled,” Beatrice agreed then turned her gaze to Henry.
“I have no siblings, so I am curious. How is it that you and Algernon are so unalike?” she asked.
Henry chuckled as he cut his mutton into neat, tiny squares—very much unlike the large slices Beatrice noticed that Algernon was able to take in one mouthful.
“As you are an only sibling and are asking in earnest, I shall tell you, not all children raised in the same household are alike. We may have same parents, but we still have our own unique personalities,” Henry answered.
He then plucked up a tiny bite of mutton and popped into his mouth, chewing it with a smirk.
“What of you?” he asked after he swallowed. “What was it like growing up as an only child? I suppose you were showered with anything you could possibly want.”
Beatrice shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She needed to lie. She knew that. However, she also knew that her ability to do so was not well formed. Her gaze shifted back to Algernon, and to her surprise, his gaze was waiting for her. Her brows tensed asher fingers flexed toward her wine glass. As if he knew what she was thinking, he gave a furtive nod, then turned his eyes back to his plate as he stabbed another large slice of his mutton.
His permission helped soothe some of her anxiety even, and she lifted the glass to her lips and took another deep swallow. She waited a moment, letting its effects settle over her, and turned to Henry with a renewed smile.
“It was everything you could imagine,” she answered, the lie coming out of her lips smoothly. “But also very boring. I prefer to hear more about your life than speak of mine.”
She glanced toward Algernon again. This time as they met eyes, he tapped his fork subtly against his plate. A sign, she gathered, to finally pick up her own utensils and eat something. She did so without a thought and stabbed at a roasted potato. She popped it into her mouth, and as soon as the spices exploded on her taste buds, her stomach tightened, begging her to swallow.
“I do love how you let me talk,” Henry told her, obviously not realizing how monumental the moment was for her. “It is so refreshing to not have to fight for my place in a conversation.”
Beatrice only nodded, already readying another bite of the delicious meal to take before she even swallowed.
“EveryoneI know thinks they are so important, or feels they have the best gossip to share, but you, Beatrice, have a refreshing poise about you.”
Beatrice swallowed, surprised at the compliment.
“I do?” she asked then glanced around the table. Indeed, everyone was in deep conversation, aside from her. And Algernon. Like a gargoyle protecting a church, he sat at the head of the table, silent and watching. Unlike herself, though, he was not quiet out of anxiety or feelings of inferiority. She had yet to discover his true reason for being so apart.
“You do indeed, and it is quite lovely,” Henry said matter-of-factly.
Beatrice slowly turned her gaze back to Henry, and she gave him her best forced smile.
“Well, I must admit that I quite enjoy hearing your stories, Henry,” she replied, stabbing another bit of potato. “Please, tell them all to me. I find your life fascinating.”
Henry’s smile widened, and he turned his full body to her as he crossed one leg over the other and leaned in.
“Well then prepare yourself, dear Beatrice,” he encouraged, “for I have much to say.”
“Yes, it was quite a pleasure to meet you all,” Beatrice said chipperly as she waved at the front door.
The moment it was shut though, she dropped her hand as if it were dead weight. Her shoulders drooped, and she hung her head. Despite the endless hours of chores she used to have, or the late hours she’d spent attending to Elspeth’s or Verity’s whims, Beatrice was quite certain that she had never felt so exhausted in her life.
One of Algernon’s strong, large hands perched on her shoulder, his touch light. Even so, it spread warmth immediately throughout her shoulder and into her neck. His other hand came around her chin, and she exhaled softly as his gentle fingers caressed her jawline before urging her to look up at him.
She obeyed, wearily, and to her surprise, she found happiness glittering in his deep green eyes.
“You did well tonight,” he praised.
His words sent a lovely feeling through her chest, and she let out a soft laugh.