“When my brother…” he went on after a moment. “When he… caught me… kissing another man, he warned me that I was getting too relaxed with my measures. I thought he was simply put off by what he saw and wanted to shame me, but now—now that I know what you noticed at the ball, I am starting to understand that Auggie was just trying to look after me as usual.
“He is right. I have become far too relaxed in my secret. It is becoming harder to keep. I am starting to slip. Starting to reveal myself. If I were to be caught, thetonwould ostracize me. Some members might even try to kill me. It is not a love that most understand.”
Henry let out another shuddering breath as he grasped her upper arms and gently held her away from him, his eyes searching hers.
“You truly do not judge me for this secret?” he asked.
Beatrice gave him a small smile and shook her head.
“And in return, I hope you do not judge me for mine,” she replied.
This time, it was she that struggled with the confidence to speak.
“Tell me,” Henry urged, his fingers gently tightening on her shoulders. “Whatever it is I already do not care. If you are willing to accept me for who I am, then I am surely willing to accept you.”
Comforted by his words, Beatrice gave a stiff nod and drew in a steadying breath.I am in love with your brother.
“I did not come from France,” she said instead. There were many things she could confess today, but her love for Algernon was not one of them.
“In fact, I have never been outside of England at all. Barely even outside of London save for a few summers with my mother when I was very young.”
Henry’s brows dipped with curiosity, but he nodded.
“Very well then. Where did you come from?”
“I am a lady by birthright,” she stated. “That much is true. However when I was younger, my father chose to refuse my presence. After my mother died, he made me a servant and remarried a woman who had a daughter that he wanted to claim.”
Henry’s face contorted with disgust.
“How awful,” he breathed. “So how did you come to know my brother?”
Beatrice drew in another steadying breath, fresh pain flashing through her heart as she remembered that awful day. It seemed so long ago now, but in truth, it had barely been two months.
“My father decided he could no longer take my presence, even as a servant. He told me he had found me a husband at first, which was why I was so willing to go with him. I thought to be married would be better than the life I lived, so I made no complaint.
“Then he took me to this…awfulplace. A gambling hell of sorts that sells women at auction. Algernon was there. He outbid the other men trying to purchase me by a large sum and brought me here.”
“He—my brother?Purchased you? From a horrid place like that?” Henry asked.
Beatrice gave him a weak smile. It was very clear he was having trouble wrapping his head around such things.
“Your brother told me that he does not frequent such places, and I believe him,” Beatrice replied. “He is not that sort of man. He bought me for… well… you. I suppose he thought that a woman who was being sold at auction would be willing to go along with anything if it meant it led to a marriage, and well, he was right. At least about me.
“Some—most of those women I learned are purchased by brothels or men that only wish to use them as mistresses. I very much did not want to become either. So I have to confess that inthe beginning, I only went along with this because I needed an alternative.”
Hurt glimmered in Henry’s eyes, but he did not speak.
“Then I got to know you,” Beatrice pushed on, “and I found you easy to be around. Easy to laugh with. You were polite and witty and kind, and you made me feel seen as more than just a servant. I started to think what a joy it would be to be married to someone like you. Even if such a marriage was only one of friendship.”
Her story ended, Beatrice stepped out from Henry’s grip and waited. He had given her an opportunity to hear his truth and decide what she wanted. Now she had to do the same for him.
Henry was quiet for a long time as they stood in the soft, warm summer breeze. Occasionally, he would look at her. Other times, he turned to look up at the house. Even she did once, half-expecting to find Algernon there, watching them.
He wasn’t.
Then Henry reached for her hand and pulled her close.
“I want us to know everything about one another,” Henry said, his tone and expression gravely serious. “Every sordid detail. Every hurt. And I want you to make me a promise. The world may want to judge us, but make a promise with me right here and now that we will never do that one another. We will befriends—thebestof friends—and watch out for one another for the rest of our days.”