Since Mr. Drake was busy carrying the tea trays back to the kitchen, she turned and went to answer the door herself.
Had Lark been able to cry off of taking tea at Lion’s Manor? Perhaps the entire thing had been a misunderstanding. Perhaps?—
Beatrice opened the door.
And felt disappointed, surprised, and then… an odd flood of pleasure? To see that it wasn’t Lark at all, but Lord Hawkins standing on the step.
“So, Dash plays the gardener, and you’re playing butler now?” He lifted one brow and then made an obnoxious tutting sound.
“Dash isn’t here, you know,” she informed him.
“I know.”
Beatrice narrowed her eyes slightly. “Do you?”
“Yes.”
“And yet you came anyway.”
“Are you going to let me in, or would you rather have your neighbors gawking at me all afternoon?”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
She moved aside automatically, and he made a show of glancing around, as though seeing the foyer for the first time.
“No wayward hay today.”
Infuriating man.
“I thought we were finished with our lessons,” she said. They had only agreed upon those few days leading up to last night’s ball. After which, she could only imagine he’d be having second thoughts.
“Clearly.” He dragged his gaze over her gown, which was considerably more cumbersome than her fighting clothes. Not to mention, less comfortable.
But… if he wanted to teach another lesson, who was she to decline it?
“I didn’t know to expect you, but it’s an excellent idea. If you don’t mind—” Beatrice gestured vaguely toward the back of the house.
“Mind?” Gideon’s mouth twitched.
“The ballroom is still set up. Allow me a few minutes to change.”
“Wait.”
She stopped halfway to the first step, glancing behind her.
“What?”
“I believe you’ve misunderstood me. No lessons today, Beatrice.”
“Oh. I… I see.” Except she didn’t really. The brief flare of excitement drained away. “Then why are you here?”
Gideon studied her for a moment, that thoughtful expression she couldn’t quite read settling across his face.
“I have something else in mind.”
Something else? It was then she noticed his top hat and perfectly turned-out morning suit. Of course. “You are doing my brother’s bidding.”
He shook his head. “I do no one’s bidding but my own.”
