But she had never truly been inside Gideon’s home.
Not like this. Alone.
Furthermore, a lady did not generally present herself at a bachelor’s townhouse without a companion. Beatrice was not ignorant of that.
But this was not a social call. She had come to speak with him about the lessons.
A very practical matter. Very innocent.
Beatrice straightened her shoulders, ignoring the flutter beneath her ribs.
These… feelings were a passing fancy. Nothing more. A brief, meaningless awareness of one of her brother’s friends—one who had taken it upon himself to protect her this Season.
For Dash. Of course it was for Dash.
Reminding herself of that very important distinction, Beatrice lifted the knocker and let it fall.
The door opened almost at once. “Good afternoon, madam.”
A servant looked down at her with the careful blankness of a man accustomed to protecting his master from unexpected callers.
“Good afternoon,” Beatrice returned. “Is Lord Hawkins at home?”
“Is the baron expecting you?”
“No.” Beatrice lifted her chin a fraction. “I am Lady Beatrice Beckman. He is not expecting me, but he will see me.”
The servant blinked. “Of course, my lady. If you would be so kind as to wait here.”
The door opened wider, and Beatrice stepped into the entry hall.
Polished wood. Quiet carpets. No excessive gilding or fashionable clutter arranged to impress callers. Everything was handsome, orderly, and understated.
Rather like the man himself, annoyingly enough.
The faint scent of tea and leather lingered in the air. Gideon.
She had just enough time to regret noticing that before the servant returned.
“If you will come this way, my lady. Lord Hawkins will receive you.”
She straightened.
Lessons. The Vigilance Society. For the greater good of ladies throughout England.
The servant opened a door on the right, and Beatrice stepped inside.
Gideon sat behind a large desk, papers spread before him in tasteful disorder, his attention fixed on a document covered in some of the tiniest writing she had ever seen.
Even so, he looked up the moment she entered.
And rose.
“Lady Beatrice.”
His eyes smiled before his mouth did.
The servant withdrew, closing the door softly behind him.
