Chapter 19

A Day Out

Beatrice could not stop laughing as they rode in the coach toward the center of London. Every time she thought she had composed herself, she burst into laughter again.

“Oh, I wish I had seen it,” she wheezed. “It can’t have been that much paint, can it?”

“You would not believe how much paint it was.” Edwin tutted. “I thought some savage warrior had entered my house to attack me.”

Beatrice burst into giggles again. She took a deep breath to try and steady herself. “I love your family, but I am not sure if I am ready to join a painting class yet. You did well to get us out of that.”

“I did, but it spoiled our morning,” Edwin pointed out. “I would much rather spend the day in bed with you today than have to leave the house.”

Beatrice blushed. “I would too,” she admitted. “Still, I have not been into town for such a long time. What shall we do today?”

“Whatever you wish,” Edwin replied. “I have nowhere I need to be, so let’s take the entire day to ensure we are not roped into the painting class when we get back.”

Beatrice folded her hands over her stomach. “We didn’t get to have breakfast before we left, and I am feeling rather hungry.”

“I know just the place.” Edwin relayed instructions to the driver.

Beatrice could not help but feel excited. She looked at the Duke in his tailored frock coat over a waistcoat and a crisp white shirt, and she felt they were a real couple for a day. They had made love multiple times the night before, and how she had been woken up was nerve-racking but beautiful. If they had married for love and not because of what she had done, this is the sort of thing they might do regularly.

Stop it, Beatrice!

She did not want to be caught up in the day, but she gave herself permission to enjoy it. It would not be a regular thing, so she might as well have fun while she could.

The Duke orchestrated it to get us out of the manor and nothing more.

Beatrice did not know what the night held, but she wished to feel his hands on her body again. He had made her feel things the previous night that she did not think she could ever feel. Her aching body knew that the next time they made love would feel even better.

The coach came to a stop, and Edwin waited for the driver to alight and open the door for them. He exited first and then took Beatrice’s hand to help her out of the coach.

Beatrice was glad she had chosen to wear a fashionable day dress. They had no plans to go anywhere specific, so she had made the choice that she hoped would fit any situation. She stared at the facade of the private club where Edwin was taking her for breakfast.

Edwin offered her his arm, and she took it. He escorted her into the private club, and they were shown to one of the best tables in the establishment.

“It is wonderful in here,” Beatrice breathed.

She stared up at the ceiling, the ornate embellishments painted in bright colors to showcase the sky above and angels with trumpets heralding the sunrise. The sky was so realistic that she became disoriented for a moment, as if she were outside.

It was not only the ceiling. The cushions were so soft, like clouds, and the cutlery and crockery were fancier than the ones she had seen in her new home.

She looked at Edwin, only to find he was smiling at her. She closed her mouth and smiled back at him.

“I am awed by it all,” Beatrice admitted. “I don’t even know what I might order after seeing this place. What should I do?”

Edwin chuckled. He waved a finger in the air to summon one of the servers. “I would like half a dozen raisin scones, strawberry jam, clotted cream, butter, two plates of smoked salmon, two cups of coffee, and two glasses of champagne,” he ordered.

Beatrice had been looking at the server as her husband made the order, but then her head snapped back, and she looked at him.

“I couldn’t resist,” Edwin admitted. “They have the best scones in London.”

“That is not why I am looking at you,” Beatrice said, her eyes wide.

Edwin smiled again. He looked more relaxed than she had seen him before.

“I thought we should treat ourselves,” he explained. “It has been a long time since I was out for the day, and I don’t know when I will get the chance to do it again. It has been a while since I had the chance to fully entertain a lady.”

“How about Miss Jennings?” Beatrice asked sheepishly. “You courted her before I… You must have spent time with her.”

“About as much as I spent with you in our courtship,” the Duke replied.

“But we—oh!”

“We were seen at events together, but we never spent any real time in each other’s company. There was perhaps one time when we were as alone as we could be, and she wanted me to relay to her all the gossip I heard. I heard some, of course, but it felt like bad manners to spread it. I could see she did not want to know because she was interested in what people were up to, but because it was a form of leverage for her. She wanted to use it to hurt people, and I gave her very little—nothing she could do real damage with.” Edwin put his hands flat on the table. “Look at me, prattling on about Miss Jennings when I am here to spend time with you. Let us not talk about her today.”

“I agree,” Beatrice said.

She didn’t want to talk about Miss Jennings but was glad to hear about the Duke’s experience with her. She felt bad about taking Edwin from someone else, but hearing how manipulative and ill-mannered Miss Jennings was lessened her guilt.

Two servers arrived with carts loaded with their breakfast. The plates, cups, and other utensils were laid on the table, and Beatrice heard her stomach rumble. Before she could try one of the famous scones, Edwin picked up his champagne glass and held it in the air.

“To a wonderful time today,” he toasted.

Beatrice picked up her glass and held it in the air. They both drank, and she felt the bubbles rise to her nose. As they breakfasted, she also felt the bubbles in the champagne lift her spirits. She could not deny that the scones were fantastic, but it was the smoked salmon that made her close her eyes and moan.

“Please save some of that for me,” Edwin suggested.

“Oh, did I take too much salmon?” Beatrice asked.

“Not the salmon, but the moans,” Edwin whispered across the table.

Beatrice almost spat out her food, and she might have replied if a stranger had not approached the table.

The man was a stranger to her but not to Edwin, however.

The Duke rose from his seat. “Lord Wiltshire,” he greeted, shaking the man’s hand.

“Your Grace, it is good to see you again,” Lord Wiltshire said. “I hope everything is… well.”

“Always,” Edwin replied confidently. “I hear you are opening another shipping route to the colonies.”

“To and from,” Lord Wiltshire corrected. “It will increase trade in London by ten percent. And it shall reduce transit times by three days. I am looking for further investment to open another trade route with the Dutch in the coming year.”

“I would like to talk to you about that another time,” Edwin said.

“We shall see how things progress over the next few months,” Lord Wiltshire returned.

Edwin looked a little confused for a moment, but he remained calm and pleasant. “I look forward to meeting with you again, Lord Wiltshire.”

“It is always a pleasure, Your Grace.” Lord Wiltshire then turned to Beatrice and offered a nod. “Your Grace.”

The greeting was the same, but it sounded very different. There was a look in his eyes that Beatrice didn’t fully understand.

“What was that?” she asked after he had left.

“I don’t know. He was acting strange, but he has always been somewhat of a strange fellow,” the Duke admitted. “Come, let us not dwell on the character of others. We are almost done, and there is the entirety of London to explore.”

Beatrice found it curious, but when she took another bite of smoked salmon and washed it down with the last of her champagne, she forgot about the whole thing. She could not dwell on anything unsavory when the day had started so well, and there was so much of it left.

After breakfast, they took the carriage to Hyde Park. The day was perfect. The skies were a clear blue, birds flew high above, and birdsong from starlings and nightingales rang out in the air. People dressed in finery strolled around the well-manicured lawns, but of them all, Edwin and Beatrice looked the most regal.

Beatrice had not thought to bring a parasol, but Edwin had packed one for her. She held it against her shoulder to shield herself from the harsh summer sun as she walked arm in arm with the Duke, nodding to passersby and enjoying the gentle breeze.

She did receive one curious look from a woman she did not know, but everyone else was pleasant.

They stopped near the Serpentine and sat on a bench to rest, watching two baby swans swim behind their mother. Beatrice sat close to Edwin, their shoulders brushing.

“Our country really is beautiful,” she noted as they looked past the lake.

“I have never taken the opportunity just to sit and enjoy it,” Edwin admitted. “Since my father passed, I have been working non-stop. Even now, I feel I should be working, or everything will be lost, but I know I need this.”

“It is good to stop once in a while and enjoy life,” Beatrice told him.

“It is very enjoyable, too,” the Duke agreed.

They spent the better part of two hours in Hyde Park, walking and talking, and they shared some bonbons they had purchased at a small kiosk, along with some cold lemonade.

Their next stop was Bond Street. Beatrice had never been there before, though she had heard tales of the stores located there. She looked on in awe at the shops on the street, and she became caught up in her own excitement at what she might find inside. She placed her hands on her cheeks, wondering where she should start.

Beatrice had never been the sort of woman to adorn herself in gold, silver, or precious jewels, but she could not help but try on some in the jeweler’s and take a look in the mirror. She looked beautiful in different expensive necklaces but felt too fragile wearing them. They were so costly that she worried about breaking or losing them if she ever wore them in public.

In one of the art galleries, she was drawn to a large painting of a white horse—perhaps one of the horses she had heard about, the ones that came from Spain or the Arabian Peninsula. She did not know what it was about the horse, but it reminded her of herself.

It was in full gallop, racing across a mysterious beach. Beatrice had run from her life before, but that was not the comparison she made. She felt the horse was running toward its future and not from its troubles. She had nowhere to run, but she was done running. She wanted to gallop toward the future and see where it took her.

“A fine piece,” the Duke noted. He bent down and looked at the signature in the corner. “Ah, Mayford. I have met the artist—he is a fine man. His work is well-regarded in London. You have a fine eye, my dear.”

“It is beautiful,” Beatrice breathed. “I have been thinking about my bedroom. I appreciate that you left my bedroom mostly undecorated. I shall have time to shop for decorations later, but I am finding some inspiration from many of the shops here.”

“It would look fine in your bedroom,” the Duke noted. “Yes, we shall have it.”

“What?” Beatrice gasped. “I did not mean… Have you seen how much it costs?”

“I have not, but I presume it is expensive if it is a Mayford.”

“You cannot afford it right now,” Beatrice argued in a low voice. “My dowry is not meant for things like this, and you have worked so hard to restore your family’s reputation.”

“It might delay us a short while, but what good is money if we can’t spend it? Think of it as my wedding present to you,” the Duke said.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say. The decision is made, and that is that.”

Edwin went off to find an assistant to make the purchase.

Beatrice strode around the gallery, feeling as if she were walking on air. She knew it did not mean a thing, but what if it did? He had married her for his own gain, and he did not need to buy her anything. Yet, he had.

Her joy was cut short when she spotted two women in the gallery staring at her and talking with their hands over their mouths. If it had been the sole incident of the day, she might have ignored it, but it got to her, and something inside her snapped.

The two women did not know where to look as Beatrice strode over to them, both of them wide-eyed as if she were about to slap them.

“Why are you talking about me?” Beatrice hissed, keeping her voice low so she would not draw attention.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” one of the women said.

“Well?” Beatrice prompted, placing her hands on her hips.

The other woman nodded toward a man reading a newspaper on the other side of the gallery. Beatrice looked back at them, hoping for more information, but they had become tongue-tied.

She left the two women behind and strode across the gallery again, returning the way she had come, until she faced the man. She did not know him, but she assumed he was following her for some reason. As soon as he sensed her presence, he lowered the newspaper.

She did not know the man, and he did not know her. But then she saw a flicker of recognition on his face.

“In the flesh,” he drawled, chuckling.

Beatrice did not understand what he meant until she saw what he was reading—the scandal sheets.

“Show me,” she ordered, anger boiling in her veins.

She had already been the topic of one story and did not need to be the topic of another.

The man turned the pages and then handed her the newspaper.

As Beatrice read the story, her face turned beetroot red. She spun on her heels and looked for the door. She could not spot it for a while in her confusion, but she finally located the exit and pushed past a few people to get there. Once she was outside, she took off down Bond Street as fast as she could, not looking back.

She had never felt more embarrassed.