Chapter 16

Leopold looked down at Beatrice. The silence between them was not uncomfortable; it was heavy, weighted with unsaid things."You did not gloat," Leopold noted, stepping slightly closer."Gloating is for people who are surprised by their own victories," Beatrice said, looking up at him. "I did not win anything tonight, Your Grace. I merely survived it."Leopold reached out. For a second, Beatrice thought he was going to touch her face; instead, his large, warm hand lightly brushed the fabric of her plum sleeve."I will call on you on Monday, Miss Hastings," he said. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of absolute intent."My brother will be thoroughly unbearable," Beatrice warned him, her heart executing a slow, heavy thud against her ribs."I do not care about your brother," Leopold replied quietly. He stepped back, the harsh angles of his face catching the dim candlelight. "Good night, Beatrice."He did not wait for a reply. He turned and walked out, leaving Beatrice standing in the alcove, surrounded by cold supper and the terrifying realization that her quiet life was officially over.Saturday morning tasted of damp wool, cold tea, and raw panic.The Hastings household was in a state of chaotic upheaval: Richard had returned from Ashborne House at 3:00 in the morning, smelling of expensive brandy and vibrating with a manic, terrifying energy. By 8:00, he had summoned the tailor, the modiste, and his solicitor.Beatrice sat at the breakfast table, staring at a piece of dry toast."He danced with you!" Richard was pacing the length of the dining room, his hands clasped behind his back. "He deliberately bypassed three daughters, the Finch heiress, and Lady Mary to dance with you! And then the Dowager took you to supper! The Dowager Duchess! The woman is a dragon, Beatrice, and she shared her soup with you!""It was broth, Richard," Beatrice corrected tiredly."It does not matter if it was poisoned water! It was a public endorsement!" Richard stopped pacing and leaned over the table, his eyes wide, feverish. "Do you understand the leverage this gives us? If he calls—when he calls—you must be perfectly agreeable. You must agree with his opinions, laugh at his jokes—""—I will not," Beatrice said.

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