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The lights were still on and chatter was still trickling gaily from the grand assembly hall when they returned. Beatrice and Minnie had planned to slip in quietly and rejoin the ball as though they had never left, but the carriage out front told them otherwise. Beatrice would have recognized it anywhere and knew in an instant that her grandmother and Penelope were seated inside, waiting for her.

Desperate to save her friend, Beatrice directed her to the servant’s entrance around the back. “I am caught, but that does not necessarily mean you are,” she explained when Minnie refused to leave her behind. “Go! Be swift and I will see you soon, dear friend!” Beatrice watched Minnie walk swiftly around to the door Beatrice had suggested before she approached the carriage. And inside, there they were, just as she expected.

“Where have you been?” her grandmother, Pandora, questioned shrilly. “When I returned to introduce you and Penelope to some new gentlemen, you were nowhere to be found! Can you imagine my shock, myembarrassment,that I should have a hellion for a granddaughter?” Beatrice only lowered her head in shame and waited for her grandmother to open the carriage door. She did eventually, not wishing to cause a scene, but was silent for the majority of the ride home.

Penelope refused to look at Beatrice and all the headstrong, young lady could feel was disgrace. Eventually, the matronly woman broke the silence with a deep sigh. “Beatrice, my dear, I do not wish to scold you as though you were a child, but you must understand the seriousness of the scandal you could have caused by sneaking out tonight,” she explained measuredly.

“I am sorry, Grandmother,” Beatrice said, meaning every syllable of her apology. Part of her wished that she and Miss Saumon had not even followed the gentlemen and had instead been content with their imaginations. But then, Beatrice reasoned with herself, she would be oblivious to Mr. Grayson’s devious plot and might willingly partake in it.

Her grandmother noticed Beatrice’s concentrated expression and inquired, “Is there something you wish to tell me, my girl? Was there a nefarious reason for your escape tonight?” She placed a hand upon her chest in concern. “Was it to escape one of the gentlemen?”

Beatrice shook her head no, so her grandmother continued, “Then tell me what happened. Though this is not far from your usual behavior, I do find it strange that you would act so outrageously in public. I mean, you must understand what that looks like to our friends – that you are willful and do not wish to find a suitor of whom there are only a select few I would want for you.”

Pandora addressed both girls. “Your guardian, Lord Ivanry, is not someone to be trifled with. He has inherited your parents’ estate and can therefore do as he wishes with you. Now, I will not allow some of the things I know are present in his fetid mind, but he is a sly man and would not hesitate to disown either of you if you caused a scandal.”

She continued her lecture, “Now, I will not discuss with him what has happened tonight, for he already has too much at his disposal. But please, girls, be careful. Especially you, Beatrice, now that you might be known as a lady who leaves balls unchaperoned.” When she was met only with more silence, Pandora hummed quietly and looked out the carriage window into the night.

“I understand why you wish to do such things,” she stated. “When I was your age, I often sought the company of friendlier men and did everything I could to maintain my freedom. But it all comes at a price, dear girls, and luckily, my sins were never discovered.” The older woman looked back at her granddaughters. “The way to keep your future suitors from having too much control over you is not by shunning their advances but rather cleverly choosing which ones will grant you the most independence.”

“It is unfair, I know,” Pandora admitted, “but these are the opportunities we have been given. Do not squander them on one night of fun that leads to your ruin. Stick to your principles and your honor, and we may make it out of this period in your lives unscathed.”

Penelope murmured, “Thank you, Grandmother,” and Beatrice mimicked her, already thinking about howcleverlyshe would deal with Mr. Grayson and his schemes.

CHAPTERSIX

The next morning, Beatrice awoke early and went to knock on her sister’s bedchamber door. Last night, their grandmother had sent the girls to bed straight away, and Beatrice had not yet had time to apologize to Penelope. Beatrice clutched her robe around herself tightly and rapped her knuckles against the white-painted wood. Her older sister answered on the second knock and invited Beatrice in.

Penelope took a seat on her bed, the creamy sheets wrinkling delicately beneath her as Beatrice stood before her sister, ready to make things right. “Penny, I am so sorry for last night. It was wrong of me to leave you to bear the brunt of my awful behavior. And to make you listen by yourself to the gentlemen that Grandmother brought over prattle on and on.”

A smile quirked at Penelope’s lips, and Beatrice knew she was forgiven. “All is well, Tris,” she promised, rising to kiss her sister, “though you should have been there to witness some of our potential suitors. There was one gentleman who looked so much like Father did in his younger portraits that I had to pinch myself for fear of a ghost!”

Beatrice laughed and collapsed on her sister’s bed in a fit of giggles. They composed themselves, and Penelope voiced the question neither of them wanted to ask, “Do you think Mother and Father would want us to marry so young? I know that Lord Ivanry does, for he is in need of money, but I should be content to think that they would have wanted us to wait to marry for love.”

Beatrice considered the notion and answered, “Before they died, Mother told me of how she and father met. She wished that you and I should follow our hearts as they did.” The sisters considered this, each feeling bitter about her own predicament and unsure about how to glean happiness from it. “Would you like for me to attempt to sit next to Lord Ivanry today on the ride to the Saumon Estate?”

At the very mention of his name, Penelope shuddered, dreading his lecherous words and intimate touches. But she repressed her revulsion and brightly answered, “You may do whatever you wish, Tris. I would not dare to put you in reach of such a man, no matter which country he came from!”

* * *

Indeed, Lord Eric Ivanry was one of these such men. He hailed from America and made it his personal business to let all their acquaintances know that he was born in New York City to a wealthy family. “I amthe personto consult when it comes to the latest fashions,” he would declare, displaying his gaudy taste at every social gathering. Lord Ivanry prided himself on prosperity and stylishness, above all things, a mentality that had brought him to London in the first place.

In his younger years, Lord Ivanry squandered his parents’ money and influence on baubles and ill-gotten prestige. These earthly pleasures had been spent quickly, leaving his parents with no other choice than to acquaint him with a distant relative of theirs, the former Baron of Ivanry.

Beatrice had been appalled when it was announced to herself and Penelope that a veritable stranger had inherited their parents’ estate. Pandora Ivanry, for all her wizened years, had carefully hidden every curse that had frothed on the tip of her tongue while taking numerous sips of tea to cope. Lord Ivanry had arrived and made it abundantly clear that he desired Penelope, the crowning jewel on the legacy he had received for nothing.

But, upon studying his new financial situation, Lord Ivanry had found it lacking and was now concocting a plan to sell Beatrice off like livestock to the highest bidder. “You are a fine-looking girl,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the young woman. “I bet I can fetch a good price for you and get you out of my house quicker than we gained independence from this dreadful country.”

Penelope had squeezed Beatrice’s hand then to stop her from commenting on their new guardian’s choice of words.

This morning’s insults were no different. At breakfast, while the servants were packing for them, Lord Ivanry had made his intentions for this trip quite clear. “My dear Beatrice,” he oozed, voice dripping with sarcasm, “while we are celebrating your friend’s wedding, do you think you could make an effort to speak to the gentlemen who are introduced to you? I really shouldn’t even have to ask this of you – in America, our girls have tongues as sharp as whips and never hesitate to use them in conversation. Perhaps you could learn from one of them.”

Beatrice smothered her embarrassment by sawing into a honey cake with her butter knife and shoving the bite in her mouth. She ignored her grandmother’s whisper reminding her of manners. Swallowing, Beatrice looked at her guardian with a grin so false it did not reach her eyes. “With all that you tell us about America, I should certainly like to visit sometime. Surely, they cannot all be as forward as you are, My Lord.”

Her veiled insult made her grandmother cough on the next sip of her tea and Penelope cover a snicker with her handkerchief. Lord Ivanry was not at all amused. “I don’t need your jokes, silly girl, only the money that your pretty face will bring in once you stop being so willful and agree to a match,” he responded gruffly.

As he stared at her, Beatrice met his hard gaze with her own, noting how the blue in his eyes carried no warmth like it did in Mr. Grayson’s. Her next words were forced, “Of course, My Lord,” and accompanied by a thin smile. The rest of breakfast was silent as Beatrice thought of a multitude of jokes to tell Penelope later about Lord Ivanry’s rather large nose.

When they had finished eating, and the carriage had been packed, Penelope and Beatrice helped each other adjust their hats. Beatrice always appreciated the delicate touch her sister had when placing Beatrice’s bonnet upon her chestnut-brown ringlets. She tried to replicate her gentleness when adjusting Penelope’s upon her blonde curls, but then they were both barked at by Lord Ivanry.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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