As far as Amy could tell, the biggest change was that they were all less happy than they had been. ‘I have been trying to explain things to her,’ she said. ‘I must make her understand that you will be good to her and that what is happening is for the best. But until she is used to the idea of your marriage, it is best not to give her false hope.’
‘Is marrying me really such a repellent prospect?’ For a moment, he sounded genuinely hurt.
‘You know it is not that,’ she said softly.
He nodded and turned toward the stairs. ‘Let me show you to your rooms. Then you may go and retrieve your sister from the dangerous Mr Templeton.’
He was treating the situation as a joke. She opened her mouth to tell him so and to make him understand the risks involved with leaving Belle alone, even for a moment, with a man who could no longer be trusted.
And then she reminded herself that it was no longer her business. Belle did not want her help, nor did Ben. They would have each other, for better or worse, just as the ceremony said. And she would become the spinster everyone thought she already was. With time, her opinions would hold even less value than they did now. In time, they might forget her altogether.
She took a deep breath to banish the self-pity and followed Ben up the stairs to the bedrooms. Her room he called the blue room. It was charmingly decorated and looked out over the garden. She glanced down to see her sister and Mr Templeton in animated discussion next to a plot of rosemary.
‘See? They are perfectly safe together.’ Ben was standing behind her, looking out as well. He was close enough that his breath stirred her hair as he spoke.
They were together, alone. And her bed was only inches away. She stepped away from the window and went quickly toward the door. ‘They are safe together, but we are not.’
He followed her out into the hall, shutting the door behind them. ‘I am sorry, Miss Summoner, I meant no offence.’
Of course, he had not. Neither had she. And yet they had been about to forget themselves, just as they did each time they were together. She nodded an acceptance of the apology. ‘Show me Belle’s room so I might go to the garden and fetch her.’
Before something terrible happens.
At this point, she was no longer sure whose virtue most needed guarding. But it might be best if she stayed at Belle’s side for the rest of the visit.
Ben was standing before the next door and removed a key to unlock it. It opened on a room far larger than the blue room beside it, decorated in a cream and gold scheme very like the entryway below. By the size of the large canopied bed and the connecting door on the far wall, it appeared that Belle had been given the room reserved for the lady of the house.
Ben saw her raised eyebrow at the nearness to his bedroom. ‘I thought it best that she be given the same room she will inhabit when she comes here after the wedding. I do not want it to seem strange when we...’ He faltered as if unwilling to think the next words much less speak them aloud.
When you share a bed.
She did not want to think about it either. The time was growing near when she would have to explain it all to Belle. And just the thought of that conversation made tears trickle down the back of her throat.
Without another word, Ben removed another key from a ring in his pocket and handed both to her. ‘In case you are concerned about the connection to the master suite, here is the only key to it.’
She responded with a solemn nod. ‘Thank you, for your thoughtfulness.’ She slipped the keys into her pocket. As she felt the weight of them dragging at her skirts, she could not help wondering if either of them opened the door to his room as well.
Chapter Seventeen
The evening was as perfect as he’d promised it would be. Despite the fact that there was no lady of the house to see to the menu and the decorations, the ballroom was charmingly arranged and the supper delicious. He had hired musicians from London who performed in all of the best households.
The guest list included half a dozen couples along with John, Templeton and the Summoners. It was almost too intimate to be called a ball. But for Belle’s first visit to his home, it would be better to start small.
He had done well.
And beside him, staring at the room in wonder, was his reward. Arabella Summoner wore a gown the colour of a maiden’s blush. The sheer muslin was bound by gold cords that crossed between her breasts. A matching gold cord wound through her fair hair. She was a goddess come to earth, so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
Her sister was a much more cerebral deity, an Athena to her sister’s Aphrodite. She’d dressed in warm brown silk, a colour that hardly seemed festive enough for such an occasion. But when she turned to look at him, he saw that it matched her eyes. The gold of the locket at her throat echoed the light shining in them. Tonight, there were no plumes or braids to spoil the long, tawny hair and no fan to hide her lovely face. He could stare into that face for ever.