Page 29 of A Single Obsession

“You know Beau depends on his mother’s goodwill to keep him in funds,” she said, reopening her eyes. “He has to do what she says, or she will stop his allowance and he won’t be able to pay for the upkeep of his stables.”

She saw Georgie was unconvinced by her words, but it was no more than she expected. Her sister would never appreciate how important Beau’s horses were to him in the same way she did.

At last the carriage arrived and Eliza hurried outside, wearing a dark blue pelisse and clutching her reticule in her hand. She tried not to let the unwelcome addition to their party bother her and urged her lips into a smile for Beau’s benefit. It was the first evening she had spent in his company for over a week, and she was determined to make the most of it.

A footman helped her mount the steps, but as she climbed inside, she discovered her forced smile was unnecessary. The carriage was empty apart from a single passenger. Anthony.

“Beau thought you wouldn’t care to be squashed up beside the Whitlows, so I offered to bring you instead. Templecombe begged to be included and Beau gave in, thinking his cousin might be of some use to entertain the other ladies.”

“How thoughtful of him,” she said, stifling a chuckle. Beau might value his cousin’s friendship, but why he thought any woman would pay his relative the slightest attention when he and Anthony were there was beyond her.

Her companion raised his eyebrows, obviously seeing more of her amusement than she meant to show.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Eliza said, rapping her fan on his shoulder. “I’m certain Mr Templecombe will be a welcome addition to our party, and from what I have seen of him so far, he is unlikely to expose my lack of book learning.”

Anthony let out a guffaw. “You could say that. Poor Templecombe. He learned even less at Cambridge than Beau did. Can’t figure out why Beau let him come, as he knows his cousin is on the lookout for a rich wife. I suppose he must have been the only person available at short notice.”

At this, Eliza’s ears perked up. “Just when did Beau ask you to join him?”

“Last night, at White’s. If he hadn’t sounded so desperate for male support, I wouldn’t have given up an evening at the opera to come. Daresay he would have had to accompany his mother to the King’s Theatre if he wasn’t already engaged to attend Astley’s with you.”

Eliza pursed her lips in disapproval. That explained why Beau was so relieved she had changed her plans to go with him. He had fabricated an alternative engagement to avoid a trip to the opera. Whilst she sympathised with his motivation, she disapproved of him lying—even though it had extricated her from the same evening of torture.

An unwelcome thought occurred to her. Was she any better masquerading as Mr Robson? Was she as guilty of lying as Beau? When had deception become second nature to her?

She brushed away the unpleasant feelings, unwilling to discuss them, and changed the subject.

“Thank you for the warning about Mr Templecombe’s matrimonial aspirations, but I doubt he’ll overstep the line. And if he does, I’m certain Beau will put him in his place.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, but Eliza ignored him.

Why did everyone have such little faith in Beau?

He would take care of her. She was sure of it.

“Where are they?” Beau muttered under his breath as he waited for Ant’s carriage to arrive at Astley’s. “What could be taking them so long?”

He hovered at the entrance to the box he had secured, keeping his distance from the rest of the party—especially Miss Whitlow. She had spent the brief journey sending flirtatious comments in his direction, and he refused to subject himself to more of the same until he had his friend’s support.

For all the help Templecombe gave him, Beau could have been alone with the ladies. He’d regret allowing him to come if he discovered his cousin had wheedled an invitation out of him to pursue Eliza.

When Ant and Eliza arrived, Beau welcomed them like a man on a desert island welcomes a ship.

“Good evening, Miss Merry,” he said, keeping his tone formal whilst the others were listening. “I hope you approve of this box. It’s in an excellent position to watch the performance. I considered getting seats in the pit, so we could be nearer the action, but you get a better view from up here, though you’re not so close to the horses.”

Lady Frances screwed up her nose. “The pit? You must be joking. Even from this distance, the stench makes me feel nauseous.”

Beau felt tempted to ask his sister why she had forced her company on him if she disliked the odour so much, but kept his mouth shut. He glanced at Eliza and, from the exasperated expression on her face, he guessed she was thinking the same thing. As their eyes met, she bit her lip, and they shared a covert grin before she looked away.

“I like the smell of horses,” Beau said after a lengthy pause.

Miss Whitlow kept silent, but the way she wrinkled up her nose expressed her feelings.

After Beau had shown Eliza to her seat, Miss Whitlow claimed his attention by asking him a question about his matched bays, trying to regain the ground she had lost.

But she’d already revealed her true opinion, and he would not forget it.

He did not believe for one minute she was interested in his horses and offered only a brief answer. The start of the performance saved him from further conversation.