Uncommon Places, Book 3 in Autumn Club Series

Chapter 9

Beatrix had felt like a social outcast ever since her first season. But for tonight's ball, although it went against all common sense, she no longer felt like a pariah. Tonight she found herself feeling like she ruled the world.

The red dress boosted her confidence. The crimson silk hugged her curves to show all of her assets. It was borderline scandalous.

But scandal wasn't foreign to her, or her lovers.

Friends that called on her whispered the gossip that floated about the parlors of the ton. They spoke of her husband's impotence. They claimed Damien was blackmailing the family, and was Thomas's homosexual lover. And to top things off, the gossips said she was still a virgin.

With every new rumor, Bea would get tickled. But perhaps these ridiculous rumors were better than the truth. She knew eventually most would be proven wrong - mainly when she has her first child.

But children were not top of mind right now. Currently her thoughts were on the dress, the flickering of candles in a large ballroom, and her two men at her side.

The ball was an absolute crush, Bea observed from the room's grand entrance. An odd hush started to fellow from where they stood to the back of the room. A hush filled with whispered low tones. A few gasps of shock. A few "can you believe's?" And a few "the nerve of that woman."

The most shocking was the word "whore." Bea heard it come from several groups of busybody women. Women she knew stepped out on their husbands. Women who had no right to judge her. Bea could feel her confidence start to diminish.

"Are you sure, darling?" Thomas murmured in her ear. "That you want to do this, that is?"

She quickly nodded once.

"Of course she does, Tommy," Damien said. "Our girl is made of stronger stuff than any of those old bats." He walked beside her and slide his hand over her silk covered back.

"Not here, Damien," Bea scolded between her teeth.

Damien leaned over to her ear. "I will do it whenever and wherever I chose. Don't forget that." And with that he walked away with an eye toward a table lined with drinks. He didn't seem pleased.

"Don't let him get to you, princess," Thomas said as he took her hand to lead her toward the dance floor. "I don't think he likes the fact that we have to remain discreet."

"Neither do I, Daddy," she whispered the end. "But we will never be free to do anything more than this."

"Now I can see sadness taking over the fire in your eyes. Let's get through the night. Then we can worry about our future. Perhaps we can go to the country, yes?"

Bea turned to Thomas. "Please. Please let's do that."

"We shall speak to Damien about it tonight after the ball. Now be a good girl and give me your first dance," Thomas requested with a reassuring smile.

"Anything for you, daddy," she whispered up to him with a seductive smile.

"Minx," he said and he pulled her in to begin the waltz that had just begun.

After dancing, the married couple made the rounds to the various friends and acquaintances they knew. They were all kind and expressed how they missed seeing them for the past few weeks.

Beatrix didn't hear any further whispered slurs, which allowed her the confidence to laugh and chat with people again. Her shoulders back and her head high. But in all the commotion she lost track of Damien.

Bea kept her head on a swivel as they passed by groups of people. Where the devil could he be?

Then she spotted him. One of the ladies known for her loose morals and affairs, was leaning in speaking with Damien in a darker corner of the room. He was laughing at whatever she was saying and hand was on his forearm. "That fucking bi-"

"Bea!" Thomas bit out as he noticed her reaction. "I'm sure that it is nothing..." As he spoke the words, Damien leaned closer the woman so that it was clear he was looking down her dress.

Beatrix gasped. "Nothing?! Nothing, you say?!" And before Thomas could react, she was walking directly toward the couple. "Captain! So nice to see you here this evening," she said surprising the couple with her sudden appearance.

"Mm, yes indeed, my lady," Damien said coolly as he looked her over. "May I introduce you to my...friend...Lady Knightly."

"Friend? Hm, lovely to make your acquaintance. I'm Lady Beatrix Longwood," and as if by magic or miracle Thomas was by her side. "Ah, my husband, Lord Thomas Longwood."

Lady Knightly removed her hand from Damien and presented it to Thomas. "So lovely to meet you, my lord. Just as handsome as they say..."

The nerve! Was this married woman flirting with her husband?! And lover?! Bea heard Thomas dismiss the flattering remarks, but she was still too angry to say anything.

"You and the captain are truly some of the best London has to offer. I've heard you are quite close," Lady Knightly went on with her flirtations. Her hand tracing Thomas's bicep. "Very, very close..."

"Enough!" Bea blurted out. "You have no right to speak to my husband like this. And I'm sure the captain would prefer some discretion." Bea didn't know how to defend the single man's reputation.

"Discretion, Lady Longwood?" Damien drawled out. "Mm, yes, discretion. I would hate for anyone to know who my lovers are...I mean they are hardly worth being known in society!"

Bea could feel the cut of his eyes on her. The animosity and drink rolled off his tongue in his attempt to poison all they had with words to diminish its value.

"I must leave, Thomas. I'm not feeling well." Beas turned on her heel hoping her husband would follow. Tears were burning her eyes. She had been so happy with the thoughts of leaving London. To have a bit more freedom in their relationship. But now...now she felt little and cheap. She felt betrayed and worst of all she felt unloved.

"Bea, slow down," Thomas said as he caught up with her. "Damien is drunk and I think this ball was a bit much for him. I don't think he likes to...ride in the carriage but drive the damn thing. Slow down, damn it!"

Beatrix swirled around. Unshed tears twinkling in the candlelight. "I never ask for anything. But I want to leave. I want to leave now, Thomas!"

"Of course," Thomas said with his head hung low.

"No, Thomas. I want to leave London," she clarified.

"But, darling, we can't do that to Damien," he argued. "We are committed just as much to him..."

"As he is to us?" Bea spat. "Hardly. He can stay here with his whores and..." but the tears broke forth with the thought of him in London with other women.

"Let's go home and discuss this tomorrow. With some time and sleep things will be clearer. You just had so much..."

"I knew tonight would be hard, Thomas. I knew there would be awful things said to me. About me. Us. But I didn't think it would come from the man I love." And before Thomas could respond Beatrix was running toward the door into the humid night. She ran down the street until her legs could no longer go, and her lungs burned.

She knew she looked like a mad woman. Crazed. Hair falling down her back. Her dress covered in sweat and wrinkles. Tear stains down her cheeks, and eyes red and puffy - she didn't look like a lady. She looked like the devil. Perhaps that is what she was.