Page 77 of The Duke's Vice

When she passed her mother, Charlotte mimicked taking a deep breath. Beatrice nodded and did just that. Amos looked down to her and gave her a gentle smile.

She led him through the back door and down the veranda steps, her mother following a few steps behind them.

They walked a few moments in compatible silence when Amos turned his head towards her. “I can’t help but feel I came at an inopportune time.”

Beatrice gave a tight lipped smile. “The timing is not your fault.”

Amos chuckled to himself. “Your mother is quite persistent.”

She laughed. “Amongst other things.”

Amos laughed, again. She found his laugh light and breezy. She had to admit it lightened her step.

“Yes. I can tell. She held my cravat hostage when we bumped into each other this morning.”

Beatrice looked up to him with widened eyes. “She did what?”

“I was coming out of the tailors, and she was coming out of the modiste. We exchanged pleasantries. I told her I was looking for more cravats, she asked to see the one I purchased and before I knew it she was holding saying I must come over for afternoon tea.”

Beatrice looked on horrified. “I am so sorry. I should say something to her…”

She slowed her steps to turn to her mother but Amos pulled her forward. “No, it’s fine. I admired her negotiation skills. She would have made a great solicitor. Or actress.”

Beatrice let out a laugh that startled even herself. When was the last time she laughed?

She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I always say my mother missed her stage calling. Her dramatics rival the most prestigious of players.”

Amos widened his smile as they continued to walk amongst the daisies and roses.

Even though she didn’t feel any instant romantic feelings with the man, she did feel comfortable with him. It was easy to laugh with him, and she found herself talking about things as easily with him as Sarah or Eleanor.

Or Graham.

The walls that were being rebuilt during her walk came tumbling down with that single thought.

Her shoulders dropped and her world lost all color.

Surprisingly, Amos noticed the change. “Everything well, Lady Beatrice? Should we stop? Perhaps return to the house.” He looked behind them to Charlotte who was pretending to be smelling a flower.

Beatrice shook her head. Why did that blasted man have to pop up in her head at the most random of times? “I’m fine, Lord Duncary, just…” She lifted a shoulder. She didn’t know how to finish that sentence without breaking into tears.

Amos considered her for a moment, shook his head once, and pulled her along to continue their walk. He covered her hand that rested on his arm with his hand.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Lady Beatrice. I am a very good judge of character, it’s become the character trait I am most proud of. And I can tell you are a worthy woman, respectable, honest, kind, understanding. So, I’m going to lay it all out for you. But first I’m going to ask you a question, and I hope you’ll prove me right and answer honestly.”

His words were spoken softly but with intent. Beatrice swallowed over the lump that formed in her throat.

“Are you attached to someone else?” He asked simply.

The lump in her throat dropped to her stomach. She immediately opened her mouth to deny him, but that would be lying. What could it hurt to admit to him that her heart belonged to someone else.

But did it?

Was this heartache and pain she was feeling a result of love?

“The fact that you’re hesitating is telling me you do.”

Shocked, Beatrice rose her eyes to his.