Beatrice’s face turned bright red, and he could almost feel the sparks in her sapphire eyes strike out at him. Dante was sure Lord Duval’s mouth hung open. Acutely aware of his position in society, he normally kept his tongue in check, but something about this woman agitated him to the point he could not contain the set down. At that moment, the door to the library burst open, rattling some books on the shelves as another woman burst into the room.
“Beatrice!” she cried, exasperated.
Dante’s eyes continued to war with Beatrice’s as they both disregarded the interruption. Although not a word had been said by either of them for half a minute, his breathing was still quick as if he had just finished racing his bays. The words between them were bitter, but for some reason Dante could not prevent himself from focusing on her rosy, pouting lips.
“What are you doing?!” The feminine voice continued to scold in the background.
Lord Duval’s new wife appeared beside Beatrice, causing Dante to break contact with the young lady out of politeness toward her older sister.
“Oh, my! Please forgive my sister—” Lady Berkshire gave a curtsy and clamped her hand onto the girl’s wrist in one smooth gesture.
Dante raised his hand and stopped her apology. “Think nothing of it. We were all young once,” he shot at the younger sister. “It has not been so long for me that I have forgotten my own childhood follies.” He allowed himself one final look at the stormy girl and then dismissed her. He could not remember any time in his life when so much chaos had happened around him in such a short time. Returning to Lord Duval, he said, “Before we were so rudely interrupted, I believe we were discussing the gin laws, and you were explaining where you came up with your ingenious idea.”
Lord Duval, being a man of good breeding, looked as if his ship were sunk, but he did his best to save the situation.
Dante did not watch as Lady Berkshire pulled her sister out of the room, but he could feel Beatrice’s eyes on him until the door closed with a quiet click. Inside, he felt unsettled. Half of him longed for her to come back and enliven the conversation again. The other, more sensible half chided his folly.
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