Algernon’s lungs threatened to burst with the sobs welling up inside, but he swallowed them down.
“I understand,” he answered quietly.
Beatrice left the dining room a moment later, the echoing sounds of her footsteps reminding him that she was leaving his life entirely. He sat in his seat for another minute, his pain clawing its way up his throat until he could not hold them back anymore. A tortured, animalistic sound erupted from his open mouth as he then grabbed the edges of the long, antique dining room table, and flipped it over.
China shattered, silver clinked against the marble floor, candles rolled out of their holders and caught the lace tablecloth on fire. Yet he did nothing. He did not call for help, did not try to put the fire out. He just sat down hard beside it, his heart and lungs burning as tears welled in his eyes, and he waited for the flames to suffocate themselves.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“Lady Beatrice, I do not believe that this is a good idea,” Mira said hesitantly at Beatrice’s side.
“I must agree,” Henry added from her other side. “This is a boarding house for servant girls, not ladies. The company could be unkind or worse. Not to mention, it is in a horrid part of town. Let me find you something else. More private. If my brother could keep your residency in his house a secret for so long, surely, I can as well.”
Beatrice stared up at the building before her. An intense numbness had taken over her after her last interaction with Algernon, and she was clinging to that numbness like a lifeline.
“I was a servant, remember?” she said quietly.
Henry and Mira both turned their heads toward her with concerned looks. She tried to give them a reassuring smile back, but she was unable.
“It will not be for very long,” she went on, focusing on Henry. “Just until the wedding ceremony is planned. How quickly can you get it together?”
“The Church will be our biggest obstacle,” Henry explained. “A month at most. A week at least.”
Beatrice nodded.
“Let us hope for a week then,” she replied then picked up her carpet bag. Her heart twinged in her chest as she did so. She’d used the same one the very day Simeon had forced her to the auction and changed her life forever.
“You two should go on,” she urged. “Especially you, Henry. In your finery, you are a pickpocket’s dream. “
“Let us at least come in and get you settled,” Mira urged.
“Yes, we cannot just leave you here,” Henry agreed.
“I will manage. It would make me look suspicious, and I certainly do not wish to draw any attention to myself. The dresses I have already draw too much of that already,” Beatrice replied, shifting on her feet.
She loved them both, dearly, but she needed to get to her room soon. Her tears had held off for a while now, but by the ache in her chest, she knew they would be springing forth again soon.
Neither Henry nor Mira appeared pleased by her words, but they gave reluctant nods.
“I shall visit you every evening after my work is finished at the Duke’s house,” Mira swore.
“And I will be picking you up every morning for breakfast,” Henry added, reaching out to adjust the plain light brown shawl tied around her shoulders—Henry’s feeble attempt at helping her blend in with her new companions.
“You will meet me out here at nine precisely, or I am coming in to get you,” he stated sternly. “There is no skipping days, understand? It is pertinent that I ensure your safety every day.”
Beatrice did her best to muster up a grateful smile as she stepped away and then turned toward them.
“You are a good friend. Both of you,” she said, her tone thankful. “And remember, this is not for long. All will be well, I promise you.”
Henry swooped in and hugged her tight, planting a kiss on her forehead.
“I love you, darling,” he stated emphatically, looking her right in the eyes.
“Oh, I love you too,” she promised, patting his cheek.
She meant it, too. Henry had become the older sibling she’d always longed for, and though their love would never be romantic, Beatrice took solace in the fact that at least she was getting married to someone who loved her in a way.
Henry let go, albeit reluctantly, but his hands were barely back at his sides before Mira swooped in and hugged Beatrice just as tightly.