“That’s my girl,” her father said, beaming proudly. “But surely a new frock won’t make you a changed person! Come now, have a look.”
Cooke left them after carrying inside a new travel trunk for the items, leaving Prince Aaron to open each parcel proudly and hold it out to Beatrix. “See here? There are some new dresses—”
“My dress is perfectly fine, Father,” she protested.
Ignoring her, he held out another item, “And I’m not sure what this is for, but the seamstress said you must wear it under your dress.”
Beatrix snatched it away, her cheeks burning that her father held up a new chemise in front of her. There were shawls and gloves, gowns and stockings, and even a few pairs of delicate looking shoes.
“But Father, this is too much!” Beatrix protested again. “I cannot possibly need so much for just a short visit.”
Prince Aaron put down the package he was unwrapping and looked at his daughter, his expression changing from excitement to wistful sadness.
“You will be there for some time, and may have need of these things. But… should you be welcomed and decide to stay, I want you to have these things to see you through.” He cleared his throat and returned to opening a package, but his daughter’s arms went around him.
“Father, I’ve told you countless times. This is my home!”
“As it always will be, child. But that was your rightful home first, before I took all that away from you. I simply don’t want to send you off unprepared should you decide to extend your visit. That’s all! Now let me do this for you!”
Beatrix picked up a gown of fine linen and asked, “But this must have cost a small fortune.”
“Aye, actually it did,” Prince Aaron said, grinning wickedly. “But ‘twas my fortune, and I choose how I spend it! I’ve decided to bestow it upon you. Would have gone to you anyway once I’m dead, you might as well enjoy it while I’m alive to be pleased by it.”
In the morning, a carriage was sent for Beatrix. She deposited her traveling bag and the leather satchel beside the door and turned to face Prince Aaron. Her father seemed older than ever before, and her heart skipped at the thought of leaving him for so long.
“I’m to leave then,” she said softly. Her father came to her and held her close for a moment.
“I’m awfully proud of you,” he said, “and you turned out well for one who had only me to raise ya.”
“You did a fine job, if I say so myself!” Beatrix replied, trying to remain cheerful.
“Promise me one thing,” Prince Aaron began, but Beatrix shook her head.
“I’ve said it already, I have no wish to stay there. I’ll be back before you notice I’ve left!”
“That’s not what I mean, girl. Promise me this, you’ll give them a chance. You’ll give him a chance.” He stopped when he saw the frown on her face. “Don’t look at me that way, I mean it. Something tells me he’s not through looking for ya, so just… hear him. All right?”
Beatrix looked thoughtful, then shrugged her shoulders. “I make no promises to that! But I did hear you.”
They spoke their goodbyes and Beatrix left in the carriage. She turned back to wave at her father and saw him still standing in the front garden, watching her go. She smiled for his sake, but knew she could never keep good on her promise to him.
“I’m finished with Callum, no matter what Father may think,” she thought, falling back against the seat and readying herself for the long journey.
* * *
“My Lord, perhaps if you could hold still a moment longer,” Barclay implored, trying not to sound as though he was losing his patience. Callum continued to frown into the mirror.
“Enough, Barclay. There’s no hiding the bandages, I’m afraid. It was a valiant effort on your part, but I’m destined to be hideously disfigured,” Callum said, sighing at his reflection.
“Far be it from me to contradict you, My Lord, but that is an exaggeration. If anyone did not know the circumstance, they would only assume your coat wasn’t fitted properly,” the valet answered. “You only need remind yourself that is a miracle you are even alive, let alone able to venture out.”
“Thank you for the reminder, Barclay. It does me good to hear it once in a while, I suppose,” Callum answered, still frowning at his reflection. “Still, I don’t think I’ll win any hearts or favors looking this way.”
“If I may, My Lord, what favors might you be trying to win? I should think you only need announce that you threw your physical form in front of a bullet to save a man’s life, and all hearts would turn your way!” Barclay laughed lightly as he continued on to Callum’s cravat.
Callum didn’t answer, instead burning with an inward shame at the memory of the way he’d spoken to Beatrix.Nay, that would be Miss Risewell.He had lost all privilege in even speaking her name after the way he’d let her leave his house. Then, seeing her in Chelmsford, all he seemed to care about was what he himself had wanted.
Without a care or question for her own feelings…
