Bound To Bea

Chapter Seventeen

Forcing her frustration aside because she didn't wish to appear desperate to see him, even if she was. Perhaps she could find a less scandalous way to get Camden to know of her desire to see him. Surely he was just as eager to see her as well.

"Very well." She nodded, turning sharply around and returning to her room disappointed.

*

Two weeks.

Two weeks since Beatrice tried to convince Camden's butler into letting her into his bedchamber, two weeks since she snuck out of her room in the middle of the night because she was desperate enough to try to see him—because she desired greatly to lie in his arms—but was unfortunate to find his door locked. Two weeks since she had Regina deliver a note to his bedchamber.

Noah,

I miss you.

Bea.

The note was short, but it conveyed her message perfectly. By dismissing his title and addressing him so informally, she was conveying a silent message of familiarity. By telling him she missed him, she was in the same breath saying she wanted to see him again, to be near him, to be with him. And when she referred to herself as Bea, a name only he had ever called her, she was making it clear that she was willing to be his alone.

She had stared at the note for several minutes, pondering on it, wondering if he would even notice the message behind it—wondering if he would accept the message.

But Regina had returned to her room that evening without a response from Camden.

"Are you certain he received it?" Beatrice had asked, disappointed.

Regina nodded. "I handed it to my lord myself."

"Did you tell him it was from me?"

"Yes, my lady."

Her heart sinking, she asked, "What did he do with it?"

"He placed it on the table and dismissed me, my lady."

Hurt, she had simply nodded. He would read it eventually, she hoped. And upon reading it, he would send for her.

He never did.

It was two weeks of dismissing what appeared to be the truth, one Beatrice was afraid to accept:

Camden did not wish to see her.

It wasn't the first time he chose to avoid her, but unlike the first time, his decision made her heart bleed. Something happened to her the evening she shared his bed, and it didn't matter how hard she tried to dismiss it, it only seemed to grow stronger with every second that ticked by. It was a desire for him, a longing so strong, Beatrice could neither deny nor ignore it.

Sighing softly, she rose to her feet and crossed the room to her window, her gaze fixed on the gray clouds. Perhaps if she returned to London, she would be rid of her frightening emotions. Perhaps then she might forget him, she might learn to fall asleep without the torturous thoughts of him.

Her heart sank at the thought of London. There was nothing left for her there, nothing but a society that was brutal with its words and a house haunted by the memories of an abusive husband who had killed himself.

And perhaps she succeeds in returning to London, how would she care for herself without a job? She couldn't turn to her vile father for help, and with Oliver's decision to strip her of everything, she was at Noah's mercy. She would never truly be able to detach herself from Noah even if she tried. And god, she tried. She tried to forget him, to be rid of him, but she couldn't. Noah might be unwilling to see her, but she was unable to unsee him—to forget him.

She wrapped her arms around herself, deciding there was no use trying to fall asleep. Perhaps a long walk might exhaust her enough to make her fall asleep, and having been given a tour of the large estate by Regina, she knew she wouldn't risk getting lost.

The hallway was deserted when she opened her door that evening. She made her way through the quiet building and out servants' entrance, the cool evening breeze washing over her as she stepped outside. Wrapping her arms around herself, she strolled the vast grounds of the estate.

Camden's estate was unlike anything Beatrice had ever seen. Being the marquess, he likely possessed one of the largest land in Camden. She crossed the cobbled walkway with orchards on either sides, and pausing by the fountain in the center of the rose garden, she perched on a seat, her gaze fixed on her hands as she listened to the sound of crickets.

A stubborn part of Beatrice hoped Noah would come. She hoped that by some stroke of luck, he had followed her to the garden to be with her. For several minutes, she sat hoping until her limbs ached from sitting up for too long, and exhausted—even more so, disappointed—she gathered her shattered heart off of the floor and turned to make her way back into the building.

Tomorrow, she would return to London, for an uncertain future was better than a man who wanted nothing to do with her.

Copyright © 2021 Lily Orevba All rights reserved.

Why is Noah avoiding Beatrice?!

I skipped two weeks in this chapter, but I'm hoping it makes a little sense. The next chapter will slightly explain Noah's decision to maintain a respectable distance.

Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter. Please leave a vote behind if you like it as well.

Have a good evening.

Lily.