Beatrice’s answering smile was small but beautiful.
“No,” she whispered, stretching languidly. “In fact it feels quite lovely. I have never been washed by a man before.”
“Best not get used to it,” he chuckled.
Then he froze, immediately regretting his words. He had meant it as a jest, but with their reality, it no doubt sounded harsh and truthful.
“Beatrice, I did not mean?—”
“What is happening between us, Algernon?” Beatrice asked, sitting up.
Her eyes were woefully filled with a mixture of residual pleasure, hurt, and confusion. Algernon could not take it. He had to look away.
“These have become more than just lessons between us,” she insisted, “At least for me. And I know you are a solitary man, a man that does not get caught up in his feelings, but I believe you feel something for me, too. If you did not, you would have sternly refused me earlier.”
Algernon winced at her observation.
“I was selfish,” he murmured, tossing the rag away. “I should not have been. These lessons end now.”
“And what about our feelings?” Beatrice asked, drawing a sheet up her bare body. “Are they to end now as well?”
Algernon rubbed his face, his heart and head a mess.
“I do not know,” he wearily confessed as he shook his head. “For once, I have no answers or commands to give.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
No more commands to give?
Algernon had been commanding her entire life since he’d brought her his home. Beatrice’s mind whirled as she realized that her life had been entirely coordinated by his commands. To eat, to sleep, to learn, to dress—had all been dictated by his decisions. And now, suddenly, he was out of commands?
Beatrice studied him intently as he stood by the bed. In that moment, she hated how handsome he looked, naked and bathed in the moonlight. What she hated more though was the look of loss on his face.
“Was I wrong?” she asked.
Algernon slowly raised his head to meet her eyes, his gaze clouded with something akin to hurt.
“About what?” he asked in a grave tone.
Beatrice sat up a little straighter and pulled the sheet tighter around her form. Her throat and heart ached from the pent-up sobs wanting to get out, but she refused to let them take over.
“When I first arrived here, we spoke of what was going to happen to me,” she replied, her voice tight as she restrained her emotion with all her might. “I asked if I was to be your mistress, and you looked offended by the question.”
The look of hurt etched on Algernon’s face grew more intense, and he winced.
“I never planned—you were never meant to be my—” Algernon rubbed his face wearily.
He looked around then went to his trousers and pulled them on.
“My feelings for you came rushed and unbidden,” he confessed. “I told myself the lessons I was teaching you were important to capture my brother’s attention, and I think for a time that was true. At least in part.
“But the real truth is every time I touched you, it was because I could not help myself. I was—am drawn to you in most damning way. And that was wrong of me. So very wrong because from the start I wanted—I coordinated—I pushed for you and Henry to marry despite his aversions to such relationships. Now, he hasagreed to marry you, and here I am, the only person standing in his way.”
It took Beatrice several long moments to wrap her head and heart around everything Algernon had just confessed. Algernon had admitted to feeling something for her—something she had not expected him to do. However, she was only granted a second to relish in his admission before he shattered her hope with the knowledge that Henry had agreed to marry her.
“I did not know,” she whispered, feeling her heart being pulled in several directions at once. She felt her eyes begin to water as she continued starting at Algernon’s pained expression. “About any of it.”
“I was planning on telling you soon,” Algernon replied. “He spoke his intentions at the ball, but I wanted to meet with him one more time to make sure he was serious.”