Beatrice Goes to Brighton by MC Beaton Page A

with this masquerade which has been thrust upon me, I would for your sake. For when you tell Sir Geoffrey that it is not true – and he is bound to believe you, knowing that you have every reason to hope it to be true – then you will be forced to return to his mother’s house.’
    ‘Perhaps not,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘He was not so sure of me until my parents’ letter reached him after we had arrived in Brighton. In it, they assured him that they would turn me out into the street if I did not wed him. But as to your problem, I do not have the ear of the Prince of Wales, but Lord Alistair Munro does. I do not know him very well, but I know he is much admired. Why not send for him and tell him all?’
    Hannah looked at her with hope dawning on her face. ‘Will he not think me ridiculous?’
    ‘I shall be amazed if he does. Most of society, on the other hand, is ridiculous. He has probably heard the gossip already.’
    Hannah went to a desk in the corner and pulled forward a sheet of paper. ‘I shall send Benjamin with a note. Oh, how I wish you could stay, for I dread to think what he will say.’
    ‘I will stay,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘No doubt Sir Geoffrey has one of his servants stationed outside this house to report how I am faring. When he hears that I spent a long time with you, he will be in alt. I have no intention of disabusing him. Let him find out for himself.’
    Benjamin was sent with the note and Hannah went through to the kitchen to make tea, happy that as Lady Beatrice knew her circumstances, she did not have to pretend to have a host of servants tucked away. She clucked angrily when she saw that the twenty-two-pound sugar loaf which Benjamin had brought in that morning was still sitting there, looking as hard as granite. She then reflected that Benjamin had not been trained and therefore did not yet know his duties, and she chipped off the required amount, pounded it into granules, and put it into a sugar-bowl.
    When she went back into the parlour, she found that Lady Beatrice had fallen silently and soundlessly asleep in her chair. Hannah set down the tray of tea-things on a table, wondering whether to wake her,wondering why the chilly Lady Beatrice had elected to stay. She did not look hard or cold in sleep, but young and vulnerable.
    A log fell on the hearth and Lady Beatrice awoke instantly and blinked and looked around.
    ‘I am sorry, Miss Pym,’ she said, ‘but I have not slept well since I arrived in Brighton.’
    Hannah poured tea. ‘I must warn you, Lady Beatrice,’ she said awkwardly, ‘that although Lord Alistair has been extremely kind to me, he does not appear to approve of you.’
    ‘How so? I barely know the man.’
    Hannah hesitated.
    ‘Out with it. We have both been so frank with each other, ’twere a pity to dissemble now.’
    ‘Lord Alistair, I regret to say, damns you as a heartless flirt.’
    ‘What ails the man? We all flirt. ’Tis the fashion.’
    ‘He had a friend, a captain, and he said you encouraged his advances, only to break his heart.’
    ‘Fustian.’ Lady Beatrice coloured and turned her head slightly away.
    Hannah heard a key turning in the front door. ‘That is Benjamin,’ she said. ‘Let us hope he brought Lord Alistair with him.’
    Lord Alistair strolled into the parlour and put up his quizzing-glass and stared for a few moments at Lady Beatrice. Then he turned to Hannah. ‘You wished to see me, Miss Pym?’
    ‘Yes, please, my lord. I am in the most dreadful difficulties. But pray be seated and have some tea.’
    Lord Alistair sat down in an armchair and crossed his booted legs. His golden hair gleamed in the firelight, but his blue eyes were alert and watchful and Hannah knew that he did not like the presence of Lady Beatrice.
    But she needed help and so she told the whole story of Benjamin’s deception. Lord Alistair carefully placed his cup on the table and leaned back in his chair and laughed and laughed.
    ‘It is no laughing matter,’