I slipped into a new chemise while Molly opened my armoire, removing one of the most overtly feminine gowns I owned. A pure confection of lace and froth, beribboned with a contrasting sapphire blue.
With my hair redone and ribboned, I descended the stairs with my tin box in hand, the Roman doll safely nestled inside. I ground to a halt at the sight of two strangers waiting in my drawing room.
The first man stood by the fireplace, his back to me. He wore a crimson superfine coat with a black collar high enough to brush against white-gold hair, breeches of the palest cream, and a pair of tasseled black boots with enough shine to rival my handheld mirror. The second man, dressed equally well, had brown hair teased into an enormous curl dipping over his forehead. He woreriding boots with the flat tops turned down to reveal a lighter tan leather with a delicate crest. His silken cravat brushed against his rounded chin.
I clutched the tin to my chest as I stood paralyzed at the entrance.
The first man was not as tall as Rafe, nor as big, but when he turned slowly, I stared into the iciest blue eyes I had ever seen.Handsomedidn’t even begin to describe him, but the fine hair on the back of my neck stood on end. It was like having a living Apollo within my drawing room.
“Miss Littleton, I presume,” he drawled.
“Yes, but I fear you have me at a disadvantage, sir. You know my name and I do not know yours.”
“Mr. Thomas Beaumont, at your service.” His thin lips curved in what I could only deem a smile. “This is my friend, Lord Ainsley, the viscount of Harrowby.”
Yet again, I was speechless. A troublesome occurrence as of late.
His smirk deepened as he moved toward me with a careless grace. “You wrote to the Dilettanti, didn’t you? You are that same Miss Littleton who has stirred my fellow members into such a frenzy?”
“Considering the last reply I received from your secretary, I must say I’m rather surprised to see you here at all.”
“Percival has the manners of a pigeon. I apologize for his unacceptable behavior on behalf of the Dilettanti.” He stood close to me, regarding me intently. “I simply couldn’t wait on a matter this important. My carriage traveled faster than courier.”
London remained a day’s travel away. Maybe even a day and a half, if one wanted to rest at an inn. I wasn’t sure what to make of this man’s declaration. My silence seemed to further his intensity.
The second man spoke up. “Perhaps we are too late, Beaumont.” He glanced around the room, unable to hide his disdain, judging from his sneer.
Mr. Beaumont held up a hand to his friend. “Miss Littleton, I am prepared to pay handsomely for your efforts. Name the price for the artifacts and your sketches. All of it.”
I had so longed for this moment, to be pursued and recognized by the best in society, to have my research praised,to be seen, but my spirit rebelled at the offer.
“I have made other arrangements.”
He stood far too close and smelled of Bay Rum. “Who?”
“Really, it is too late for your concern, sir.”
“I doubt that,” he said, his eyes flashing. “I’ve made an offer to Mr. Perry to purchase his farm. Whether you give me your sketches is irrelevant. I can always find another artist. However, if you have anything of value, Iwillpurchase it.”
A sense of helplessness suffused me. If Mr. Perry sold the field, all would be lost.
Mr. Beaumont studied me as if to decode the emotions no doubt flashing across my face. “In fact, Lord Hawthorn wrote me regarding his property several weeks prior.”
Surely the news was a lie, but the triumphant smile on Mr. Beaumont’s face proved that I was wrong. Nausea swept through me, rending me dizzy.
Footsteps echoed heavily and Mr. Harrington burst through the doors with a small object pinched between his stout fingers.
“My dear, this stone is astounding. I must share it with you—” He paused mid-step when he saw the young man standing too close for my comfort. I inched backward.
“Mr. Beaumont, what—what a surprise.” Mr. Harrington lowered his hand. He curled his finger around the ring and tucked it into a pocket. “What brings you here?”
“Is it such a surprise, Mr. Harrington? You didn’t think we Dilettanti would let the society corner all the adventure, now didyou? Miss Littleton has invited both of us to examine her magnificent mosaics.”
Mr. Harrington’s mouth rounded as if I had denied him my dance card and relegated him solely to obtaining lemonade on my behalf while I flirted with a better suitor.
I felt the weight of both men pinning me with their gazes. “It’s true. I sent word to both societies, hoping to invite their interest. However, thanks to Mr. Harrington’s swift and enthusiastic response, I have no need for two sponsors.”
The room grew quiet with only the sound of the logs cracking in the fireplace to distract from the mounting tension. Mr. Harrington smiled triumphantly while Mr. Beaumont appeared to be cast in iron. He did not even blink.
