Page 27 of A Single Obsession

Beau frowned. Eliza disliked opera as much as he did, and she would not thank him for inviting her to endure such an evening’s entertainment. It would be torture for both of them.

He had to make a push to get out of it, for both their sakes. “You’ll have to excuse me, Mother. I have other plans.” He hoped she would not enquire what those other plans might be.

She drew her eyebrows together. “I am sure you can change them.”

Darn it. It wasn’t going to be that easy to fob her off.

An idea popped into his head. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, because I’m taking Elizabeth to Astley’s.”

“Astley’s?”

“Elizabeth likes horses.”

She pursed her lips and glared at him. After holding his gaze for what seemed like an age, she turned away. “Very well. Another time.”

With a nod, she dismissed him.

Beau did not need to be told twice. He made a hasty exit and headed straight for Lord Castleford’s residence in Berkeley Square.

To his relief, when he arrived at Warren House, he found the ladies at home.

He took a seat next to Eliza, but before he could speak, Charlotte addressed him. “I hope you’re here to beg forgiveness.”

He stared blankly at her. Why must he ask for forgiveness?

“There was no need for you to say anything,” Eliza said, scowling at her sister. “I told you I didn’t look for him.”

“Did you forget something?” Charlotte continued. “Lady Helston’s ball?”

Darn it. Had he asked Eliza to stand up with him for the first two dances?

“I’m sorry. Did I leave you standing?”

“It’s nothing. I realised you wouldn’t be there and gave the set to someone else.”

He wrinkled his nose in confusion. “You knew? But I never said…I confess, I forgot about the ball…”

“How was Romeo?”

Beau blinked. How did she know where he’d been?

“Your colt—he’s still doing well, isn’t he?”

He nodded, amazed at Eliza’s acceptance of his failure, brushing it aside as if it were nothing. She seemed more concerned about his horse than the fact he had not made good on the dances he’d promised. Without further encouragement, he launched into a full account of Romeo’s progress.

“And the races?” Eliza asked in a tight voice, a look on her face that failed to hide her disapproval. “Did you win?”

Her expression unsettled him, and his chest tightened in response. He was keen to make her understand. “I won, but only a few hundred pounds. I don’t gamble what I can’t afford to lose, so I won’t wager large amounts of money, even when I’m almost certain they’ll come good. It’s not worth the risk of being wrong.”

As fast as it had appeared, the sternness melted away. “I see.”

The sudden pressure in his chest subsided, and it startled Beau to discover how relieved he felt to have wiped that disapproving look from her face.

It was at this point he remembered why he’d come. “Eliza, would you care to accompany me to Astley’s Royal Amphitheatre tomorrow night?”

“I’m afraid I am already engaged to go to the King’s Theatre with Lord Castleford and my sisters.”

Beau’s heart sank. That was the worst possible answer. His mother would see her there and know he’d lied.