Page 31 of Memories Made At Midnight

Eleven

Sussex Square ~ Kempton

FIVE DAYS LATER ~ ALMOST TEN IN THE MORNING

Sighing, Cassius finished his coffee, then set the empty cup on a nearby side table.

Beatrice had missed her last sitting.

As he scraped a hand through his already tousled hair, concern for her chafed him. Particularly after she’d disclosed that Highbury might have found a potential husband for her right here in Brighton.

Her note explaining her absence informed him Millborn ailed and it wouldn’t be proper for Beatrice to come for a sitting without a chaperone. She would come today instead.

A reasonable excuse. And yet, Cassius couldn’t help but wonder if her uncle meant to force her into a union with this unnamed man, thereby forgoing the need to finish the painting.

He’d taken it upon himself to snoop around The Old Ship Hotel to see if he could discover who the potential suitor was. However, he lacked his brother Lucius’s and cousin Torrian’s sleuthing skills, and his questions only earned him skeptically raised eyebrows and uncooperative frowns from the staff and patrons.

He sent another fretful glance to the studio’s front window.

Sun glistened off the ocean, a perfect backdrop to the clear sapphire sky.

No shiny burgundy coach trundled down the cobbled lane. Interesting that Highbury chose such an arresting color for his conveyance rather than the typical noble black preferred by most peers.

Exhaling a deep breath, Cassius scratched his neck as his attention dropped to the letters that had arrived yesterday. He’d wanted to charge straight to Highbury House and share the contents with Beatrice, but wisdom and prudence warned him not to.

Instead, he’d penned letters to his father and Adolphus, asking them to come to Brighton at their earliest convenience. Not only was the Earl of Highbury in debt up to his perfectly starched and tied neckcloth, but he was also on the verge of bankruptcy.

The earl must not learn what Cassius had discovered until he was positive Beatrice was safe. And at present, he didn’t believe she was, though he wouldn’t want to alarm her unnecessarily.

From the moment he’d met the Earl of Highbury, Cassius suspected something about the man was off, but had dismissed his initial aversion as being unfair and judgmental.

Next time, Cassius would listen to his gut instinct.

Regardless, if Beatrice didn’t come for her sitting today, Cassius would contrive an excuse to either call at Highbury House or send a note around asking her to meet him at The Chapel Royal, where he attended Sunday services—mainly because that was where his parents went when in Brighton.

A guinea greasing a palm would ensure discreet delivery of the missive without the earl’s knowledge.

At last, Highbury’s gleaming coach drew to a halt before his studio, and he released a sigh of relief.

Beatrice emerged from the carriage’s interior, and not waiting for Hampton to hand her down, gracefully hopped onto the pavement.

Millborn did not appear in the doorway.

Nala bounded from the conveyance and with a happy woof, darted through the studio’s open door to give Cassius an excited greeting.

“Hello, girl.” He rubbed her ears.

Beatrice lifted Teddy, and holding him to her chest with one arm, shaded her eyes with her other hand as she glanced upward at Hampton.

“Return at the usual time, please.”

“Your uncle bid me fetch you home at 1:00 today, Miss.” Hampton’s weathered features crumpled into an apologetic smile.

“He did?” Confusion whisked across her pretty face. “Did he say why?”

The driver shook his head. “No, Miss.”

“Very well.” She produced a sunny smile. “I shall see you then.”