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At that moment, Mrs. Merriglow entered the room, as if beckoned by her niece’s annoyance. Where was she this entire time?

“Apologies for my absence,” she said as though reading Adam’s thoughts. “But there was a slight emergency in the kitchen. All is resolved now, and the tea shall be here soon.”

“Thank you, Aunt Agnes,” Miss Fowley said fondly.

“Thank you, madam.” Adam inclined his head. “However, I must bid my farewell. I have already overstayed my time here. But I hope to see you very soon.” Adam stood and bowed over her hand.

“Yes, do come calling on us soon,” she echoed.

* * *

“Put this on.”

Beatrice looked at the drab, simple brown dress nudged toward her and raised a brow. “You want me to wear this?”

Mr. Lewis had his customary annoyed look on his face. “That’s what I said.”

He’d come to her the next evening and snuck into her bedchamber after Beatrice’s aunt went to bed. The ‘proper’ gentleman wasn’t acting all that properly, which delighted Beatrice. It meant that he was truly committed to their ruse.

“You can’t show up at the local pub looking like a gentlewoman,” he added.

“But you can show up looking like a lord?” She surveyed his gentlemanly attire as she took the clothing from his arms.

“Of course. If I were alone, it would be to my advantage were I dressed as a lord. But I won’t be. That would draw too many eyes to us. I have a change of clothes, and shall put them on in the carriage while you change. Instead, we shall pretend to be a brother and a sister, going to a pub after a long day at the factory.”

“A brother and a sister?” Beatrice grimaced.

He nodded confidently. “The dress buttons at the front, so you should be able to get dressed without any assistance. I shall leave you to it. Join me in the carriage once you’re ready.”

He turned on his heel and stalked away, not waiting for Beatrice’s reply.

I guess that’s how it’s going to be from this point forward.

Beatrice would be trailing along after a surly lord who would command her for the rest of her free life. And then she’d marry an old lord and be commanded by him for the rest of his life.

She let out a deep sigh.

Maybe Lord Lansdowne would tire of her after she procured him a couple of sons and leave her be. Still, she wanted to make some memories while she was still young and carefree. Who knew how old she would be by the time Lansdowne tired of her? Who knew if she’d even make it past childbirth? So, she put on the drabby dress, pinned her hair in a tight bun on top of her head, and made her way downstairs.

When she got to Mr. Lewis’s carriage, he looked her up and down, a cheroot lit between his teeth, and then nodded approvingly. “Perfect.”

Beatrice’s cheeks heated. She knew he wasn’t complimenting her, but rather her disguise as a commoner, but she couldn’t help her blush. Good thing it was dark outside, and Mr. Lewis didn’t see her blushing face.

He too looked perfect, if she were truthful with herself. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in London, so seeing pampered aristocrats with their embroidered waistcoats and crisp white cravats was quite exciting. But there was something about a simple coat covering a working man’s shirt that Beatrice found appealing.

He threw the cheroot to the ground and crushed it beneath his heel before opening the door of the carriage and helping her inside.

“So, where exactly are we going?” she asked when he settled in the seat in front of her.

“Do you know all the pubs in London?”

She shrugged. “No, just making polite conversation.”

“Not to worry,” he said in his customary annoyed tone. “It’s one of the best pubs in town.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she said with the confidence she did not possess. “I trust you.”

A dark shadow passed over his features. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head and stared out the window.