Slumping forward, Teresa took a few steadying breaths. “I am less interested in revenge, Bea, and more interested in… why this happened. We were happy; I know we were.”
“Well, he has no family, so it cannot be their influence,” Beatrice replied, tilting her head to one side in thought. “It is highly unlikely that he has a lover who has made demands of him, though I can investigate that if you want me to. Nor does it seem like something done out of fleeting anger if he was, say, cross with you for climbing the crag—which, also, I would take umbrage with, for marriage should not mean an end to one’s passions.”
An end to one’s passions…Those words circled like vultures in Teresa’s mind, awakening an unpleasant thought that she had been too upset to consider.
What if it had nothing to do with the fall? What if it had everything to do with the fact that they had shared a bedchamber, and had not yet had a wedding night? His kisses, too, after that initial one in the carriage, had been infrequent. More often than not, he had preferred to kiss her hand or her cheek or her brow. Always chaste, never like the all-consuming ardor of her beloved books.
“What?” Beatrice raised an eyebrow at her. “I know that look.”
Teresa shook her head quickly. “It is nothing.”
The prospect that she might be right was too embarrassing to say out loud, even to her dearest friend.
“But I should rather like a glass of your most potent liquor now, if I may?” she added, for if Beatrice had something strong enough to forget one’s own name, she surely had something strong enough to forget Cyrus Deverell.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The two women lay out in the last of the evening’s light, beneath a dusky sky, the stars just beginning to twinkle into life. Warmth lingered in the air, though they had a blanket apiece for when it finally faded, and night truly fell.
“You realize you will have to tell your family at some point, do you not?” Beatrice asked, her arms behind her head.
Teresa squinted up at an emerging constellation, whose name she could not remember. “I do, but… I found myself coming to you first. I knew you would not judge. I knew there would be no raised voices or wailing if I came to you.”
“I am glad you did.”
Teresa turned her head. “You did not seem so glad when you answered the door.”
“It was a surprise, that is all.” Beatrice twisted onto her side, smiling at her friend. “I do not like to have guests here, not even those who are dearest to me. I do not know why. I have never liked to entertain in my own home.”
“So, I have not been a bad friend by never visiting you here?” Teresa reached for the bottle of port between them, taking a sip of the sweet, not unpleasant drink.
Beatrice snorted a laugh. “Heavens, no! You would have been aterriblefriend if you had come here before now, arriving unannounced. There is nothing so… so… unsettling as unannounced guests.”
“How is it that you are here alone, though?” Teresa remarked, passing the bottle to Beatrice. “I have seen no one else since I arrived.”
Beatrice pointed her thumb back at the manor. “There is a cook who comes every few days. Aside from that, I am, indeed, on my own. My mother and father went to Edinburgh for a month and took the staff with them, while I serve my punishment here.” She shrugged. “It is not so bad. I am often alone here.”
“How did I not know any of this?” Teresa gaped, struggling to imagine what it would be like to have to fend for oneself.
Then again, it rather explained Beatrice’s confidence in finding a residence for herself, to live out her spinster’s life precisely as she wanted. She alreadyknewhow to take care of herself, nottroubling herself with thoughts of servants and running a large household.
“Because it is unimportant,” Beatrice insisted. “It is boring. I detest boring.”
Teresa’s frown deepened. “Were your parents here when you came to Darnley Castle?”
“They left the day I returned,” Beatrice replied, smirking. “My mother seems to think that if she sees me in the manor before she leaves that I will miraculously remain here, simply because she and my father have told me to. I rarely do.”
Expelling an astonished sigh at the secret life she had known nothing about, Teresa flopped onto her back once more and stared up at the sky. Spending time with her best friend, drinking port, entertaining one another, had been a wonderful distraction from her heartache.
But it will still be there tomorrow, alongside a sore head.
“Bea?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you come with me to Grayling House, to tell my family what has happened?”
Beatrice gave her a light smack on the arm. “I already planned to, you old goose. As if I would allow you to face that brother of yours alone.”
