There was another pressing matter, though, one that Beatrix could blithely ignore during the daytime whilst occupied. At night, however, with nothing but the shadows to disturb her thoughts, she was reminded that her father would murder any man who’d treated her in this way. She would be blessed if Prince Aaron did not seek out Lord Bellton and kill him as a matter of principle. Introducing him into her carefully guarded life would be the death of him, she was sure of it.
“No, I cannot,” she thought with finality, a tear slipping from her eye and blotting the pillow beneath her head. “I would rather live a solitary and meaningless life than be responsible for his fate.”
Chapter 21
As promised, Birdie knocked gently at the bedroom door well before the sun had risen. She needn’t have troubled herself, though, as Beatrix was already awake and prepared to leave. She opened the door to find a hearty breakfast awaiting her, as well as a wrapped parcel of more victuals to carry her on her way. The maid had even located a wine skin that she’d emptied and filled with water for the long trip.
“Yer sure ya know the way?” Birdie asked for the third time. “Ya won’t be gettin’ lost now, will ya, miss?”
“I don’t rightly know, Birdie,” Beatrix answered with a concerned frown, “but I’ll do my best. I should think your directions will prove quite useful and accurate. I hope that it will not take me long upon the road to see a familiar sight.”
“Ya should drop breadcrumbs like the children in the fairy story!” Birdie said, covering her mouth with her hand shyly as she laughed. “Then ya could find yer way back to us… and back to the master at that.”
“Birdie,” Beatrix warned with a wry smile, “we’re not to discuss that, remember? No one ever needs speak of it again!”
“I know,” the maid answered with a sigh, “but I cannaw help but hope that you might be someday the mistress of this household! It would do our hearts well to have ya here and to serve ya!”
“We must not pine for that which we cannot have,” Beatrix said, taking Birdie’s hands in her own and pressing them lightly. “But I must go now. Thank you again for everything, and please give my best to Greta.”
Beatrix slipped out of her room and down the stairs on silent feet, feeling her way along the bannister until she reached a room of windows. The early morning light was just beginning to brighten the space, and her eyes quickly adjusted to the room to let her see.
“Some thief you’d make,” Beatrix thought ruefully as she paused in a hall, narrowly avoiding colliding with an ancient vase on a mahogany stand. “Father would be less than pleased with this escape!”
Eventually, Beatrix was able to make her way outside via the servants’ entrance. The small courtyard behind the kitchen led directly to the stables, and for a moment, she thought longingly of the stolen moment within those walls with Lord Bellton, the shock of it still sending a shiver through her. She shook it off in disgust, chastising herself for her silly, girlish daydreams.
“It’s an early hour for a ride,” a voice behind her said, “but I suppose I can be troubled for an adventure if you wish.”
Beatrix whirled around to face Lord Bellton, her heart racing from the fright of seeing someone outside.
“You!” she exclaimed before looking around and lowering her voice. “You frightened me!”
“I would apologize most sincerely if I were not convinced your intention was to leave without saying goodbye,” he answered, leaning against the side of the house.
“How did you know I would be out here at this hour?” Beatrix demanded, looking around for any sign that he had an accomplice.
“Surely you don’t think that my servants are all partial to you rather than me,” Lord Bellton joked, his eyes lighting up with a hint of mischief. “While you do seem to have charmed most of them—and even turned a few against me, not that I did not deserve it—some of the more loyal members of my household warned me that you might be plotting to run home.”
Lord Bellton sauntered closer and smiled down at Beatrix. “Not that I could blame you, of course. Although it pains me greatly to know you would set out on foot without a word rather than accept my offer of a carriage and coachman to see you safely.”
“I thought only that the walk might do me good,” Beatrix answered playfully. “It’s been awfully dull being sequestered inside these past many days. Besides…” She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the makeshift map. “… I have excellent directions that are certain to get me lost and mired in a bog without anyone to help me. It’s just the sort of adventure I crave!”
Lord Bellton laughed, turning the page in her hand to inspect it more closely. He frowned shortly after, saying, “I’m afraid this is not even close to where we met on the road.”
“And how would you know that?” she demanded, certain that this was some sort of trick to force her hand.
“Because my father still lives at the residence I’d left that day. Remember?”
“Ah yes. I’d forgotten,” Beatrix admitted shyly. “And you’d been traveling from his home following the loss of your mother.”
“That’s right. I’d made that journey many times these past number of years, and this map is in the entirely wrong direction.” Lord Bellton folded it and handed it back to her. “And I assure you, I do not only say that so you might be persuaded. Instead, it is my fervent hope that you’ll let my coachman escort your home. I would wish to accompany you as well, if it pleases you.”
“It would please me very much,” she said after a lengthy pause, “but it is unwise, I’m afraid.”
“Because of our different stations? And the gossip you fear may befall us?” he pressed, shaking his head.
“No, because my father will kill you the moment he lays eyes upon you. Should he challenge you to a duel,” Beatrix explained with a quiver in her voice, “there cannot be a good outcome. He will either die at the end of your pistol or he will kill you and then be arrested for it.”
“Then I shall simply endeavor to appeal to his good-nature and convince him that I am… in love with his daughter,” Lord Bellton said, his earlier air of merriment gone. It had been replaced by a far more serious countenance, one that Beatrix could not dispute.
