“Actually, Lady Miriam, I had great hopes to be married,” Callum answered pointedly, “but alas, I have not yet convinced a woman to spend even an hour in my presence, let alone a lifetime.”
A sudden thud beneath the table disturbed the salt box, and Callum grimaced. Peter looked pleased.
“But surely at your age, your father has been speaking to you about the matter?” the Marchioness pressed, concern for Callum’s future prospects evident in her tone.
“On the contrary, he recently had some forceful words to say in opposition to the matter.” At that Callum looked at Beatrix quickly but was disappointed to see that she would not meet his eye. “But as of late, I hope to remedy that situation in the near future.”
“Aunt Miriam,” Peter interrupted, his voice taking on the tenor of a low, rumbling growl, “did your husband keep pistols about the house?”
“I… I don’t know,” she answered, looking as though she was trying to remember. “Perhaps there are some in the upstairs rooms? You’re welcome to them if you wish, heaven knows I have no desire to see anything he ever enjoyed.”
“I’ve already been shot once,” Callum whispered to Peter, “and though I have no desire to ever do it again, it is a small price to pay for you to butt out!”
“I’m going to shoot you,” Peter insisted in a tone that seemed to be only half in jest.
“Aim to the left so that I’ll have a matched pair of scars on either side!” Callum hissed back.
“What are you young men babbling about over there?” Lady Miriam asked, smiling obliviously. She looked to Beatrix, who had been silent all this time, and then suddenly frowned. “Oh my dear, how rude of me! I’ve kept you up and busy all throughout the day, and after your long journey too. We must end here and get you to bed!”
“Though I cannot stand to miss a moment with you, I think that might be best,” Beatrix said, casting a quick glance of reproach to both of the gentlemen at the table.
“Oh, but I hadn’t thought to bring up a maid for you!” Lady Miriam cried. “How foolish of me, when I knew you would be visiting with me for some time! I’ll ring to see who might attend to you.”
“If I may, Lady Miriam,” Callum interrupted. “I have just the solution. Some of my staff have traveled with me, and they were a great help to Lady Beatrix when they met her. I believe she’ll remember them fondly as well.”
“Ah, that’s wonderful news!” the older woman answered, clapping her hands. “Goodnight then, dear girl!”
Peter and Callum rose when Beatrix stood to leave. She pressed a brief kiss to her mother’s cheek, smiling when the woman shivered in delight at the gesture. Callum stepped forward and offered her his arm.
“If I may, Lady Beatrix, I will bring you so far as the main hall and will send for my servants.”
Beatrix gritted her teeth as she attempted to smile politely. “Of course, Lord Bellton. That would be ideal.”
Outside the dining room, Beatrix turned on him sharply. “Why are you here?”
“Well, one tends to eat dinner in the dining room, so I thought perhaps this room would be best,” he answered innocently. “Besides, all of you were in there, and I would have been terribly lonely eating my dinner in the stable or somewhere, so I—”
“Stop it, not the dining room! You know what I’m referring to,” Beatrix shot back. “Why are you at this house?”
“You didn’t reply to my letters,” Callum said, sounding genuinely wounded.
“And you thought that was not an indication of some deeper meaning about the grievous pain you’d caused me?” she retorted, wide-eyed. “You somehow mistook my silence for an invitation to hunt me down at my mother’s home?”
They walked along silently while Callum thought of how to speak next. Finally, he decided that his only hope was to speak to the matter directly.
“Lady Beatrix, I am terribly sorry for my past behavior. There are things that I have not divulged. But my love for you has not changed at all. I hope that you still care for me as you once did as well.”
“Lord Bellton,” she began, addressing him formally, “your affection for me has only returned because as it turns out, I am not a ‘nobody’ after all. Should the truth about the Earl of Weavington’s plot against his sister not have come to light, nothing would have changed. Your father would still have succeeded in hardening your heart against me, and you willingly complied due to the whim of what is considered acceptable.”
“I like to think I would have come around eventually?” he said, risking a smile at his attempt at humor.
Beatrix was not to be so easily won over. “Only a matter of weeks ago, you were willing to throw away your entire fortune and your title for the pretender Lady Beatrix. Prove it.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, stunned.
“Prove it. According to my mother, I now stand to receive a small annual sum and a rather pleasant dowry, therefore you have no need of your vast estate. Throw away your title for me. Prove that you care not for your fancy riches and your ‘lord this’ or ‘lord that.’”
Callum was silent in light of Beatrix’s explanation. She knew his silence to be admission.
