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“Fine? Fine… as in, you’re fine with it?”

“No. I mean… I can’t exactly change you, can I?” She sounded rather defeated. “But that’s not important right now. I… um… I was actually coming to see you after the rehearsal. Before I stumbled into you, that is.”

“You were?” Richard suddenly perked up.

She licked her lips. Richard’s gaze fell to those plump, moistened lips and he wished to have a taste. Was she coming to him to do just that?

“Have you read the papers today?”

Richard’s face contorted in a pained grimace. “Yes. And before you say anything, that was not my plan. I mean, yes. I went to her, and I persuaded her to jilt me. But Lansdowne?” He shook his head.

“She didn’t want him,” Jo said softly. “When I spoke to her during the house party, she was obviously afraid and repulsed by the prospect. We can’t leave it like this. I can’t live with it if she suffers because of it. You have to go to her.”

Richard scrubbed his face. “I can’t,” he croaked out.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I made a deal with her. The day I went to ask her to end our betrothal, I made a deal. Her only two conditions were to bring her to London and not interfere with her plan for jilting me. She said that she didn’t want my meddling.”

“Isn’t that a deal of a lifetime?” Jo muttered under her breath. Then she raised her glittering eyes to his. “She asked you not to meddle. But did she say anything about me?”

Richard watched her for one moment, uncomprehending, before a smile touched his lips. He rapped on the roof of the carriage and instructed his driver to divert their course.

Chapter 21

Jo left Richard in the carriage and slowly walked to the beautiful townhouse he had set up for his former bride. Would he do the same for her? How was their relationship going to progress?

She forced her mind to stop racing. One issue at a time. And the first issue to resolve was to make certain that Miss Fowley did not suffer the consequences of their actions.

She knocked on the door and was welcomed inside by a courteous, albeit young, butler. She was immediately escorted into the beautiful drawing room and offered tea and biscuits.

The staff Richard had hired were extremely proficient. Richard must have spared no expense.

Beatrice appeared in the doorway and gave her a shy smile. “Miss Claremont,” she said as she walked further into the room. “What a surprise. I did not expect to see you.”

“I think we agreed upon you calling me Jo,” she countered.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Beatrice smiled, then pushed the spectacles farther on the bridge of her nose and looked around. “Please, do sit down. I am not used to entertaining guests, I am afraid. Would you like some tea?”

Jo settled on a settee and waited for Beatrice to join her. “Actually, your staff are already preparing a tray.”

“Aren’t they wonderful?” she said with a wide smile. “They know everything. I was raised a gentlewoman, but all these rules of etiquette are quite lost on me. I have never had a season, and neither did my sisters. And we rarely had company visit our little cottage. So I am afraid I am committing a faux pas every time I step outside of my room.” She leaned closer to Jo and whispered, “I am afraid these wonderful servants are judging me, too. I am certain they expected a more adept mistress than myself.”

Jo chuckled. “The aristocratic world is quite confusing. I do not blame you for worrying. But I doubt anyone is judging you.” She grimaced. “Well, some ladies of the ton will. But I don’t think Richard—Lord Gage—would hire servants if he thought they would be condescending toward you.”

Beatrice swallowed and nodded. “He was very kind.” Then she chewed on her lip as she fiddled with her skirts. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Jo blinked. “What is me?”

“You are the woman the viscount is in love with,” she said softly.

Jo peered into Beatrice’s eyes, trying to gauge her mood. “Yes,” she said carefully.

Beatrice’s eyes shone with a genuine smile. “I-I actually realized that something was going on between you two when I first met you in the retiring room and you blanched when I mentioned I was his fiancée.”

Jo grimaced. “I didn’t mean to be that transparent.”

“You were shocked,” Beatrice continued. “But if it helps, I think he truly loves you. And we never had an attachment. In fact, he never made any promises to me, nor did we actually speak more than a sentence before the betrothal ball. All the interaction was through my father. So you have no reason to worry.”