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T he next morning Beatrice wrote to Amos inviting him for tea. That evening Beatrice accepted Amos’s proposal and she immediately started planning the wedding. Each day Charlotte and her sisters oohed and ahhed over table settings, floral arrangements, ribbons and lace.
Beatrice tried her best to fully commit to the event in hopes of soothing her aching heart. Every time her heart squeezed at the memory of Ezra’s touch she reminded herself she asked for that night, she must handle the consequences.
After all, she had read countless books of heart aches and each one of them resolved themselves in due time. Of course, most of them ended with the hero returning to the pining woman, but there were a few where the love was lost.
She would have to write her own future. In the light of day Beatrice felt that resolve strong and undeniable. She focused on her wedding plans and enjoyed her time with Amos, thankfully, he had a way of making her feel like it would all work out.
It was her nights when gut-wrenching pain would overtake her body and throw her into the fires of self-doubt and fear. Her body longed for Ezra’s touch and her heart called for his. Every morning she woke drenched in sweat only to wash it off and forget about it for the day.
Unfortunately for her, the days only lasted so long and the nights came quickly. She started counting down the days to the wedding, not out of excitement but out of hope that once she was married her nights wouldn’t be so lonely.
She had no misconceptions about how her marriage to Amos would be, but she hoped that at least having someone else with her would help her survive the dark hours.
“What do you think about this for your dress, Beatrice? The light blue will draw out your eyes. Are you sleeping well, love? You have dark smudges under your eyes?” Her mother’s rapid fire questions pulled her from her fog.
“I’m sure she’s just overly anxious and nervous, Mama.” Sarah chimed in.
Beatrice blinked back into reality and saw both her sisters and her mother looking at her with concern.
“Sarah’s right, Mama. This feels all so sudden and it can be overwhelming at times. I’m finding sleep is alluding me with all the chaos surrounding my upcoming nuptials.”
Charlotte sat and blinked at her daughter. “Well that sounded well rehearsed. What is going on?”
Beatrice sighed. Her mother was right. If she wasn’t crying she was coming up with responses to questions she knew she’d be asked but wouldn’t have the fortitude to answer.
Yes, that dress is lovely. No, I don’t like lilies. Sarah’s cook will have the perfect menu for the dinner.
She had responses for any question so her mind and heart could focus on the herculean task of moving on from her relationship with Ezra.
Beatrice shrugged.
“Mama, why don’t you and Sarah go check on Mrs. Waters. She said she had prepared some desserts for us to try. Let’s see if she’s done, I can help Beatrice try on these dresses you had sent over. We’ll get this out of the way and join you downstairs to try some of those desserts.”
Charlotte eyed Beatrice but agreed to Eleanor’s plan. “All right. You’re lucky I adore Mrs. Water’s cooking like the rest of you. Let me know what fits and what doesn’t. I can send for more options if we need.”
Charlotte gave Beatrice one more look over before she kissed her on her cheek and left with Sarah.
Eleanor closed the door behind them and turned to face Beatrice.
“I’m not going to ask, it’s none of my business, but if your plan is to look as if you are being tortured and forced down the aisle it’s working.” Eleanor said with a smirk.
Beatrice flopped face down onto the bed. Her body sunk into the mattress as she sighed.
“Is Amos that bad?” Eleanor asked as she sat next to her.
Beatrice shook her head and turned her face to respond. “No. He’s actually quite wonderful. But he’s more of a friend than husband material.”
Eleanor pursed her lips. “Beatrice. I’m going to ask you a delicate question and you don’t need to respond if you don’t want to, or if you think you’ll be betraying Amos, but I have heard some things, and noticed others, in regards to your betrothed.”
Beatrice huffed out a laugh. “I should tell him there are more people than he thinks that know of his secret.”
Eleanor cocked her head. “What do you mean by that?”
Beatrice sat up. “If you’re hinting at what I think you’re hinting at, which is, my soon-to-be-husband’s interests in regards to the opposite sex, you’d be right.
I have no misunderstandings about what my marriage to Amos will be like.
We will be confidants and partners, nothing else.
And I am fine with that. Elated actually. ”
Eleanor’s eyes took in Beatrice’s sullen cheeks and pale coloring.
“Yes. I see the joy just radiating off of you.” She said pointedly.
Beatrice scrunched her face. “I am. I may not seem it, but this is actually the best outcome for me. Amos will offer me the safety and security with his title and name and the freedom of a spinster, something I always wanted. Why would I be upset?”
Eleanor remained unconvinced. “Exactly. Why would you be upset?”
Beatrice shrugged.
“So why are you upset?” Eleanor pushed.
“I’m not upset.” Beatrice lashed out as she sat up and crossed her arms.
Eleanor failed at hiding her smile. “Clearly.”
Beatrice dropped her face into her hands. “I’m a little upset.”
“Well, that’s progress, I suppose.” Eleanor reached out and brought her sister in for a hug.
“I’m not sure what is going on, I have my suspicions, but I trust you know your heart better than me.”
“Sometimes knowledge doesn’t help.” Beatrice muttered as she recalled Ezra’s story of his sister and the promise he made to himself.
Eleanor laughed lightly. “No, not always, you’re right.” She pulled away and took her sister’s face in her hands. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Beatrice shook her head. “No. But thank you. I just need some time, I think.”
Eleanor nodded. “Then time you shall have. Let’s try on this dress so we can check one thing off your list.”
At the mention of a list Beatrice’s heart squeezed.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She could do this. She had to. This was her future, a future she was willingly going into.
It may not look like the future she envisioned but if these past few weeks have taught her anything it was she couldn’t live her life based off a to-do list.
Life was far too complicated to be regulated down to a simple check list. It had twists and turns, hope and heartache.
She always considered herself to be carefree, but she had come to the realization that while she rebelled against the societal cage the ton put women in, she had created her cage of her own.
She didn’t keep her mind open to all the possibilities that laid in front of her.
No more.
If she were an author she would be outlining a new chapter, one that allowed room for the surprises that life loved to interject.
She was more prepared for this next phase in her life.
She will be more fluid, open, engaging. She will make something of herself, even if it meant being in a loveless marriage.
Ezra sat, swirling the tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He held the same glass for the past twenty minutes. He wasn’t thirsty, didn’t feel like drinking it, yet he couldn’t put it down. So he continued to swirl the liquid.
He didn’t want to do much since Beatrice left his house last week.
He tried throwing himself into work but he just created more problems with his surly attitude and short temper.
His household staff now avoided him and have taken to leaving his meals outside of his study.
They let him know his food is there by knocking on the door and quickly scurrying away.
Ezra leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had hoped by coming to the club and being around others might assuage some of his tensions but sitting in the darkened room surrounded by quiet murmurs only made the voices in his head that much louder.
He was resolute in his decision not to enter into a relationship with Beatrice. He could admit to himself that he had come to develop feelings for her, but those feelings only made it that more important that he stay away from her.
“Well aren’t you a pleasant sight to see this beautiful summer evening.”
Ezra groaned at Frederic’s voice.
“Must you bother me? Can’t you see I’m relaxing?”
“Your hand is gripping that tumbler so tightly it may break in your hand and your brow is pinched. I am no doctor but I can absolutely say you, brother, are far from relaxed.”
Ezra grimaced as he opened his eyes to Frederic settling into the chair opposite of him.
“I need to check in with Harriet. I feel you are out too much and leaving her unattended.” Ezra scowled.
Fredric just chuckled. “Don’t you worry about your sister, Your Grace. My wife is taken care of. In fact, it was her who sent me out this evening.”
“Sick of your nonsense, no doubt. I’m going to take a page out of her book. Be gone.”
Ezra waved his hand and closed his eyes again.
“No can do, old friend. Your sister sent me on a mission and if you know your sister you know she won’t let me return until I have accomplished my goal.”
Ezra sighed. His sister’s stubborn streak could out last anyone. If she gave Frederic something to do she would not expect him back until it was completed to her satisfaction.
“And what mission did my fair sister send you on?” Ezra’s voice held no interest. He was hoping the sooner he gave into this nonsensical conversation the sooner Frederic would leave him to his own misery.
“You.” Frederic replied simply.
Ezra opened one eye. “Me?”
Frederic nodded. “You.”
Ezra closed his eye. “I don’t know what that means. You saw me. Is that enough?”
Frederic’s laugh annoyed Ezra. He just wanted peace, why couldn’t Harriet wait a few days before sending Frederic after him?
Table of Contents
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