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Chapter 21
Jo left Richard in the carriage and slowly walked to the beautiful townhouse he had set up for his former bride. Would he do the same for her? How was their relationship going to progress?
She forced her mind to stop racing. One issue at a time. And the first issue to resolve was to make certain that Miss Fowley did not suffer the consequences of their actions.
She knocked on the door and was welcomed inside by a courteous, albeit young, butler. She was immediately escorted into the beautiful drawing room and offered tea and biscuits.
The staff Richard had hired were extremely proficient. Richard must have spared no expense.
Beatrice appeared in the doorway and gave her a shy smile. “Miss Claremont,” she said as she walked further into the room. “What a surprise. I did not expect to see you.”
“I think we agreed upon you calling me Jo,” she countered.
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Beatrice smiled, then pushed the spectacles farther on the bridge of her nose and looked around. “Please, do sit down. I am not used to entertaining guests, I am afraid. Would you like some tea?”
Jo settled on a settee and waited for Beatrice to join her. “Actually, your staff are already preparing a tray.”
“Aren’t they wonderful?” she said with a wide smile. “They know everything. I was raised a gentlewoman, but all these rules of etiquette are quite lost on me. I have never had a season, and neither did my sisters. And we rarely had company visit our little cottage. So I am afraid I am committing a faux pas every time I step outside of my room.” She leaned closer to Jo and whispered, “I am afraid these wonderful servants are judging me, too. I am certain they expected a more adept mistress than myself.”
Jo chuckled. “The aristocratic world is quite confusing. I do not blame you for worrying. But I doubt anyone is judging you.” She grimaced. “Well, some ladies of thetonwill. But I don’t think Richard—Lord Gage—would hire servants if he thought they would be condescending toward you.”
Beatrice swallowed and nodded. “He was very kind.” Then she chewed on her lip as she fiddled with her skirts. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Jo blinked. “What is me?”
“You are the woman the viscount is in love with,” she said softly.
Jo peered into Beatrice’s eyes, trying to gauge her mood. “Yes,” she said carefully.
Beatrice’s eyes shone with a genuine smile. “I-I actually realized that something was going on between you two when I first met you in the retiring room and you blanched when I mentioned I was his fiancée.”
Jo grimaced. “I didn’t mean to be that transparent.”
“You were shocked,” Beatrice continued. “But if it helps, I think he truly loves you. And we never had an attachment. In fact, he never made any promises to me, nor did we actually speak more than a sentence before the betrothal ball. All the interaction was through my father. So you have no reason to worry.”
“Beatrice,” Jo said slowly. “That is not why I am here.”
“Oh. I just assumed—apologies.” She continued fiddling with her skirts nervously.
“I am here because of the announcement in the papers. About your betrothal to Lord Lansdowne.”
Beatrice reacted in a way Jo would have never expected. She giggled. The maids came at that moment and set up a tea tray. While Beatrice poured them tea, Jo frowned thinking of her reaction. She seemed quite pleased with herself.
“When we first met,” Jo said as she accepted a cup of tea from Beatrice, “you were quite horrified at the prospect of marrying old Lansdowne. But now you’re willingly betrothing yourself to him?”
Beatrice shrugged. “I thought it was quite clever. Now, instead of being a ruined, jilted bride, I am the woman who jilted a young and virile viscount for an old and shriveled baron.” She let out a laugh. “Did you see the caricatures? They are now trying to speculate if Lansdowne is perhaps more well off than Lord Gage and that that was the reason for my defection. I suppose I can live with the moniker of an opportunist attached to my name.”
Jo licked her lips. “But can you live as the wife of an old baron? Can you be happy with a man you dreaded to marry?”
Beatrice let out a breath. “I would not be happy with Lord Gage, either. Not while he is so obviously in love with you. He would be miserable, too. And so would you. This way, three out of four people involved in this situation will be happy—assuming of course, that I won’t make Lord Lansdowne miserable. And I will get what I always wanted. A month of freedom in London. Besides, Lansdowne is old. He might die soon, and I will be a wealthy widow.” She ended on a laugh.
A surprised chuckle left Jo’s lips. Quite a wicked lady nested beneath the shy, bespectacled facade.
* * *
Once again, Richard found himself sitting haphazardly in his carriage. He instructed the driver to move the carriage farther from Miss Fowley’s house because he didn’t want to invite scandal.
If his carriage was noticed by her house after their quite public split, speculation would abound. Not that there was anything wrong with visiting Miss Fowley during the day, but Richard didn’t want to take any chances.
