The light returned to Beatrice’s eyes, and her hand slipped away from the collar of her dressing robe.
“I am also grateful,” she replied, “for the treatment you have given me thus far. Despite the strangeness of this circumstance. It was odd, at first, having leisure time, but I must confess, I am quickly growing fond of it. Furthermore, there is something satisfying about picking up the dance and etiquette lessons I had started when I was younger. I feel as if I am completing something.”
Algernon smiled,genuinelysmiled.
“I am very happy to hear it,” he said, rising from the chair. “However, your only lesson for today is in these books. So, pick one, and read.”
Raising a curious brow, Beatrice leaned forward and picked up the top book on the stack of three.
“Have you read these before?” she asked, flipping to the first page.
Algernon smirked.
“Do not dare tell anyone else, but yes. I have. They are written for a lady’s pleasure, but I must confess, I do enjoy such a volume when I am weary from the boredom that comes with studying accounting books.”
Smirking, Beatrice placed her pointer finger to her lips and winked.
“Your secret is safe with me, Your Grace.”
He could not help it. He chuckled.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“His Grace will be most pleased when I tell him of your progress, Lady Beatrice,” Mira said.
Beatrice blushed as she dragged her eyes up from her book. She stopped nibbling on her thumb, only then realizing that she had taken to doing so as she read, and she quickly dropped her hand into her lap.
“What do you mean?” Beatrice asked, as if Mira knew what she was reading.
However, Mira only smiled wide as she held up the empty tray.
“You seemed to be able to eat this evening without difficulty,” Mira explained. “I did not have to sit with you nor did His Grace. In fact, it seemed you attacked the meal with much enthusiasm.”
“Oh,” Beatrice sighed in relief then pressed the book to her chest. She then did her best to give Mira an innocent smile—despite what she had just read.
“Yes, well, it seems that my appetite is coming back,” she replied, “Though it quite helps that Alice is such a talented cook. Everything she makes is delicious.”
Mira’s smile grew, and she looked genuinely happy for Beatrice’s progress.
“She is indeed,” Mira agreed. “Do you need anything else before I take your tray away? Brush your hair perhaps? Get it into a braid before bed?”
Beatrice bashfully drew her eyes down herself as she sat at one of the tableside chairs. She had made time to bathe and wash her hair and draw on a clean nightgown, but besides that, she had not prepared for her evening as usual. Her long hair had dried on its own, leaving it in a mess of curls that tumbled down her shoulders.
“No, I can manage on my own. Thank you, Mira,” she replied.
“Well, ring for me if you change your mind,” Mira insisted, heading toward the door. “It is still quite early in the evening, and I will be up for a time.”
Beatrice only nodded as she drew her book from her chest and began to read again. She did not want to admit it, butshe was enraptured into the story. It started off quite innocent. Two main characters—a princess and a knight—forced by circumstance to take shelter in abandoned cottage in the forest after a surprise attack on the kingdom. The knight believed that the princess was spoiled and arrogant. The princess believed the knight was barbaric and pompous—and yet, as they adjusted to their new surroundings, their feelings toward one another were beginning to change.
It did not take long for Beatrice to fall into the story again, her eyes rapidly consuming the words as her blood began to pulse with excitement and—to her surprise she realized it was how she had felt when she had kissed Algernon.
Curious to learn more, Beatrice picked up her wine glass, taking a deep sip as the scene moved from kissing to something quite…
“OH MY HEAVENS!” she exclaimed, dropping the glass. It bounced off the table, and as she tried to catch it, she fumbled it, knocking into the bottle of wine instead. Both crashed onto the hard floor, clashing loudly as the glass shattered to a million pieces.
For a moment, Beatrice didn’t move, still overtaken by what she had just read. She looked from the mess to the book, not sure if it was more urgent to keep reading or clean up the mess. Then a moment later she heard pounding footsteps echo from the hallway, and without warning, her bedroom was shoved open. Algernon appeared, and Beatrice gaped.
Neverhad he appeared before in such a state of undress. His black trousers and matching leather boots remained, but his black cotton shirt was open almost to his navel, exposing the rigid expanse of smooth pectoral and abdominal muscles. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off muscled forearms. He wore no cravat, no waist coat or jacket either, but he had wrappings around his knuckles, as if he had been midway through a boxing match or practice of some sort.