To Desire a Devil (Legend of the Four Soldiers #4)(56)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

Near the end of the line were Lord and Lady Vale. The viscount started talking to Reynaud, and for a moment Beatrice and Lady Vale were together alone.

“He’s very pleased with this union,” Lady Vale said quietly.

Beatrice looked at her, surprised. “Viscount Vale?”

The other woman nodded. “He’s been quite worried about Lord Hope. This whole business of your husband returning alive has been a shock to him—a good shock, of course, but a shock nonetheless.”

Beatrice raised her eyebrows.

“He’s worried about how Lord Hope has changed.”

“He’s darker,” Beatrice murmured.

Lady Vale nodded. “So Vale tells me. In any case, he was very happy that you consented to marry Lord Hope.”

Beatrice wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she merely nodded.

The viscountess hesitated a moment. “I wonder . . .”

Beatrice looked at her. “Yes?”

The other woman seemed a tad embarrassed. “I wonder if I might give you a rather unusual wedding present?”

“What is it?”

“It’s a job, actually, so if you don’t want it, please do say so, and I won’t be put out.”

Beatrice was intrigued now. “Tell me, please.”

“It’s a book,” Lady Vale replied. “I was told some time ago by a friend that you bound books as a hobby.”

“Yes?”

“Well, this has been something of a project of mine,” Lady Vale said almost shyly. “It’s a book of fairy tales that originally belonged to Lady Emeline—and your husband.”

Beatrice leaned forward. “It belonged to Reynaud?”

Lady Vale nodded. “Emeline found it last year, and she asked me to translate it—it was in German. Once I translated it, I had it transcribed by a friend, and I was wondering if you might like to bind it for me? Or rather for Emeline. I’d like to give it to her eventually so she can have it for her own children. Will you help me?”

“Of course,” Beatrice murmured, taking the other woman’s hands. She was filled with a kind of pleased delight, as if Lady Vale had somehow given her an entry into the St. Aubyn family. “I’ll be happy to.”

* * *

“BEATRICE LOOKS LOVELY,” Nate said as he sidled up to Lottie after the wedding breakfast.

“Yes, she does,” Lottie replied without looking in his direction. “I hadn’t realized you were invited to the wedding.”

She stood just inside the front doors of Blanchard House, waiting for her carriage to be brought round. Even though she made sure not to glance at him, she was vividly aware of his deep blue coat and breeches, the white of his wig and neck cloth making him look very nice indeed. She was probably the only one aware that the cuff of that particular coat was fraying and needed mending. She’d forgotten to point it out to his valet before she’d left, and apparently no one else in the house had noticed.

His handsome face darkened. “Didn’t you? I could’ve sworn I saw you glancing my way at the church.”

She smiled tightly. “Perhaps you thought everyone was watching you? You are such an ambitious young member of parliament.”

Nathan’s lips tightened but he merely said, “It’s a good match. Beatrice seemed very happy.”

“Hmm. But then it’s only been three hours.”

“Your cynicism ill becomes you.”

“Oh, that’s right. You prefer a lady to pretend happiness,” she said sweetly.

“Actually, I prefer a lady who is happy in reality, not just pretense,” he said.

“Then perhaps you should’ve paid more attention to your lady,” she snapped.

“Is that it?” He moved closer to her, almost touching her shoulder with his chest, speaking low and intensely. “Would you come back if I promise a trip to the theater or ballet? Perhaps bring you sweets and flowers?”

“Don’t paint me a little child.”

“Then tell me what you want,” he hissed, his normally congenial face twisted with anger. “What did I do that was so wrong, Lottie? What’ll make you come back? Because the gossips are in a frenzy over your defection. My reputation—my career—can’t take much more of this.”

“Oh, your career—” she started.

But he interrupted her, something he’d never done before. “Yes, my career! You knew when you married me that I was a career politician. Don’t act the wounded innocent now.”

“I knew you had a career,” she said quietly. “What I didn’t know was that it consumed your life—your heart—so much that you had no room for a wife.”

He pulled back to eye her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” Lottie shot back. “Well, perhaps you should think about it a bit, then.”

And she walked out the door before he could reply—or before she could burst into tears.

Chapter Fourteen

At the sight of Longsword and the princess, the three dragons flew at them, enormous claws extended, fire roaring from their jaws. Longsword braced himself and swung his mighty sword. THWACK! The smallest dragon fell to the ground, screaming in pain from a mortal wound to its breast. But the remaining dragons separated and attacked him from both sides. Longsword slashed at the one before him even as he felt the rake of fiery claws on his back. He turned, falling to one knee. The remaining dragon—the biggest dragon—shrieked in triumph and swooped down to finish the kill….

—from Longsword

By the time night fell, Beatrice was a bundle of nerves. She was no longer a virgin, so perhaps she shouldn’t have been nervous—after all, what did she have to fear? But despite their physical familiarity, she felt in some ways that she knew her husband less now than she had weeks ago.

Perhaps one never really understood a man, even after one had accepted him into one’s body. It was a gloomy thought to have on one’s wedding night, and Beatrice frowned as she removed the pearl drops from her ears. The earrings had been Aunt Mary’s, and she wondered what that imminently practical woman would’ve thought of her marriage. Would she have approved of Reynaud? She wouldn’t have liked the high-handed way he’d treated Uncle Reggie; that was certain. Beatrice felt a twist of remorse. Had this day been one enormous mistake?

On that thought, Reynaud entered the room. Beatrice dismissed Quick with a soft word. She’d moved into the countess’s rooms, unused since Reynaud’s mother had occupied them. Uncle Reggie still had possession of the earl’s room, at least in name—he’d left the house for the night. Beatrice had half expected Reynaud to take advantage of her uncle’s absence to assume control of the master bedroom. But he hadn’t.