and look lovely, and these gowns are perfection. The countess approved of them and even supervised the needlework herself.”
She patted her sister on the back before letting her go.
“I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Bitsy. You are right.”
Most of the time I am, Beatrice thought, but did not dare say it aloud.
“I am being silly.”
“Soon these people will be our friends,” Beatrice insisted, devoutly hoping this was another one of those things she was right about. “And then when we go to London for the Season we will know people.”
“I will be relieved if they acknowledge us in London. Friendship is too much to ask.”
At the sound of wheels on gravel, Beatrice went back to the window, grateful for the distraction. Ceci was considering the dresses yet again.
“Who do you think this is?” The awe in her voice drew her sister’s attention instantly.
A singularly handsome gentleman had jumped out of the impressive coach. He was blond, well built, and lithe. He offered his hand to a woman. An older woman. Old enough to be his mother. Then he gave his hand to help a much younger woman down.
“Are they a couple?” Beatrice was surprised at the disappointment she felt as she stepped back from the window, no longer particularly interested.
“No,” Ceci said. “At least I don’t think so. My guess is that the older woman somehow talked him into escorting them and he is trying to free himself from their grasp already.”
“How in the world do you know that?” Beatrice moved back and stood next to her sister. “Yes, I do believe you’re right. He’s smiling and all that is polite but somehow he has already detached himself from them.” How had he so clearly conveyed his lack of interest without being rude? “I have no idea what his name is, but he is surely a gentleman of the ton. He has that way of dismissing someone by his very air.”
“Yes. Where do they learn how to do that?”
“It’s not an ability that is limited to men born to rank. Papa can do it.”
“Yes, he can, Bitsy, but not like this gentleman. With Papa it is quite final. With this man there is an air of regret that hints at next time.”
“I think it’s called charm,” Beatrice said, and they looked at each other, neither willing to say aloud that charm was one thing their dear papa lacked completely. They both returned their attention to the scene below. “We will meet him soon enough.”
No sooner had Beatrice spoken than the gentleman looked up.
“Eeek” was all that Ceci said before stepping back, out of sight.
Beatrice did not move, caught by the way the gentleman’s smile grew into a grin. He did not look away, but kept watching her.
Beatrice returned his smile, wishing that she could draw. She wanted to catch his delighted expression, his appeal, the way he made her skin tingle. Instead she kept staring at him, committing his face, his smile, to memory, before remembering that she was going to see him any number of times over the next weeks.
Beatrice raised her hand, not quite waving, in a gesture of greeting.
The nameless man swept off his hat and bowed extravagantly without taking his eyes from hers.
Beatrice’s smile froze. That was not what she’d intended at all. She had only wanted to make a small sign of friendship. His outlandish bow acknowledged her tiny wave as if she had invited him into her life or even into her bed. She answered his gesture by abruptly pulling the drapes closed.
Still standing in front of the velvet panel, Beatrice concentrated on the elaborate fringe as she instantly banished the mental picture of him naked in the pose of Michelangelo’s David.
“Why did you do that?” Cecilia asked.
“Why must some men think every gesture is an invitation to a flirtation? Every man except Roger.”
“He is a perfect gentleman,” Cecilia agreed.
She wished Roger were one of their party. She would have much more fun with him nearby to discuss ideas and her current readings. But no, he and Papa had to go to London this week. Papa insisted it could not wait. Now she would have no escape from unwanted flirtation. Best not to dwell on it at all, she decided.
“That dress will look awful on you,” Beatrice said with as straight a face as she could manage.
Ceci turned to her, panic in her eyes, and then relaxed. “Oh, stop teasing me. It’s lovely. But is it too much for the first night?”