Married By May

the balcony. “But I had time to think this morning whilst icing my face,” he glowered, and Bea realised with a start that Ewan must have caused the damage to the baron’s nose. “We may not know each other well, Ewan. But I know you well enough. You would have done anything to scupper my plans. Now, I’m going to scupper yours.”
Beatrice could only look between the two cousins and wonder helplessly what was going on.
“Did you think I’d let you get away with this? Swoop in to marry her and get your hands on that dowry when it was my idea. When I’m owed what’s due to me?”
“I didn’t ask her to marry me, you damned fool,” Ewan barked, and Beatrice felt as though he’d slapped her.
What had the baron said about her dowry? Her stomach was still roiling, and now her head began to pound.
“Ah, so you were happy to stick to the original plan we concocted then?”
His pale blue eyes suddenly landed on Beatrice’s stricken face.
“You were going to ruin her and run? I’m sorry I gave the game away, in that case, perhaps I would have gotten her to marry me after all, when she had no other options.”
Though he spoke to his cousin, his eyes remained fixed on Beatrice.
“Seems I’ve ruined both our chances to get rich off the little spinster. Shame.”
Beatrice’s head was thumping so loudly she could barely hear the baron’s awful words. Yet each one of them hurt like a dagger to the heart.
Sir Edmund heaved a long-suffering sigh.
“I suppose now she won’t have either of us,” he sneered. “Don’t worry, Lady Beatrice. Once word gets out of what you were doing out here, I’m sure the offers will come flooding in,” he drawled sarcastically.
All the strength went out of Beatrice’s legs as the baron’s words sunk in.
It couldn’t be true, could it? Ewan wouldn’t do that to her. He must care for her. He must!
There was a sudden burst of movement as both Ewan and Ben lunged for Sir Edmund.
Ewan got there first, his large hand clamping around the baron’s throat as he pushed him forcefully against the wall.
“You breathe a word of this to anyone, and I’ll kill you,” he promised, his words all the more menacing because he spoke them so quietly.
“You won’t be here to do anything about it,” the baron gasped, even as he turned a ghastly shade of puce. “You’ll be needed in Scotland by your penniless father.”
“He might not be here, but I will be.”
Ben stepped forward, his face like thunder.
He looked Ewan straight in the eye.
“I don’t know what’s going on here. I don’t think I want to know. But I’ll deal with him. You,” he dragged Ewan’s arm non-too-gently from the baron, who he held in a vice-like grip, “owe my cousin an explanation.”
Without awaiting a response from either of the gentlemen, Ben turned to Beatrice, his expression turning concerned.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, while Ewan made a strangled noise of protest at the question.
Had he hurt her? What a question. She felt like her heart had been dragged from her chest and stomped on.
But of course, that’s not what Ben meant. And destroyed as she currently felt emotionally, she knew Ewan would never hurt her physically.
But she couldn’t seem to speak past the lump in her throat, so she merely shook her head.
Ben studied her for a moment before nodding his head briefly.
He turned then to Natalia.
“I’ll be back as soon as the baron and I have had a little talk,” he said gently, but the menace in his voice couldn’t be ignored. “Can you both be ready to leave by then?”
Natalia was unusually quiet, her face drawn, but she nodded confidently enough at her husband.
The silence Ben and Sir Edmund left behind was deafening.
Beatrice was frozen in place. She felt as though she were in the middle of a horrid dream. A nightmare of her own making.
She had been kissing Ewan. Kissing him like that. So sure that they would be married. So sure that he loved her.
And all the while, he – well, she didn’t quite know what he had been doing.
She couldn’t speak to him, couldn’t look at him.
“Beatrice.”
Her name, just her name, whispered so desperately it sounded as though it had been ripped from him.
But it was enough for her to know she couldn’t bear to be near him or hear anything he had to say.
With an odd calm, Beatrice ignored him and looked straight to Natalia.
“I want to go home,” she whispered.
Natalia rushed into action, coming forward and wrapping Beatrice in her arms.
“Of course, dearest,” she said softly. “At once.”
Beatrice could only thank the gods that her mother had chosen to stay home this evening, lest she witness this humiliating spectacle, as well.
“Beatrice, please.”
He sounded so desolate. But instead of making her feel sad, or sympathetic, it sparked a furious anger within her.
“What?” she hissed as she spun to face him. “What do you want?”
He looked shocked at her tone. As though it should be a surprise that she was angry he’d potentially ruined her life.
“I – I want to explain,” he said, taking a step toward her.
Beatrice stumbled back away from him, terrified that if he touched her, she’d fall apart.
“Please, love.”
She laughed at the endearment, the sound harsh and bitter, sticking in her throat.
“Love,” she repeated. “That’s funny.”
“Beatrice, come along,” Natalia coaxed, trying to pull her away.
But she dug her heels in and simply stared at the man she thought she knew so well.
“Did you set out to ruin me?” she asked, refusing to let her threatening tears fall.
“You don’t understand. There are things you don’t know.”
“Oh, I think I can piece it together,” she drawled sarcastically.
He looked at her like he’d never seen her before, and she couldn’t blame him. Even she didn’t recognise the snarling, spitting creature she currently resembled.
“From what Sir Edmund smugly announced, I gather your father is penniless and owes the baron. And between the two of you, you