Arabella (13 page)

             
She could deny him nothing.  Although she longed to shout her happiness to the world, Arabella managed to behave naturally as she went back to the house.  Fortunately, she was able to go up and change for the evening without anyone seeing her, which was as well since she found a damp stain on her gown and blood on her linen.

             
She had just finished dressing when Lady Spencer tapped the door and came in.  Arabella dismissed the maid who took away her soiled gown to sponge and press it.

             
'Did you enjoy your walk this afternoon, my dear?

             
'Yes, very much, thank you.  It was such a lovely day.  I walked as far as the lake and the wood beyond.'

             
'Goodness!  No wonder you did not return to take tea with us.  I was a little anxious, but my dear William thought you could come to no harm on the estate.'

             
'Oh, I was quite safe,' Arabella replied, feeling a little guilty at this evidence of her host's kindness.  'I met Lord Sylvester on my return.  We stopped to exchange a few words.'

             
'Ah…' Lady Spencer laughed.  'That explains it.' She hesitated, then, 'I have heard that my cousin plans to visit us.  We may expect him next week.  He would have been here sooner but has been delayed on business.'

             
'Your cousin, ma'am?'

             
'Yes…' Lady Spencer seemed puzzled.  'I thought you knew Lord Roxbourne.  Gervase is my cousin.  It was his suggestion that you should come to stay with me.'

             
Arabella felt the shock run through her.  How could she have been so stupid as not to realise the significance of Lady Mary's change of heart?  She ought to have known that there was some reason for it.  She bit back the hasty words that rose to her lips.  The situation was awkward and needed some careful thought.  She must speak to Harry before she said or did anything rash.

             
'That will be pleasant, ma'am,' she said carefully.  'I knew you were a friend of my cousin's, but not of the connection to Lord Roxbourne.'

             
'Oh yes.'  Lady Spencer smiled at her.  'I am very fond of Gervase.  It was through him that I met my dear William.  When he asked me to invite a young lady he admires and wishes to know better I was delighted to oblige.  I have oft hoped that Gervase will find a woman he could be happy with for we feared that he might never marry.'

             
How could Lady Spencer be so misguided?  There was no possibility of Lord Roxbourne offering for her, and if by some chance he did she must refuse him.  She was committed to Harry Sylvester now.  In her own mind Harry was already her husband.  She could never think of marrying anyone else.

             
'I am sure Lord Roxbourne will marry when he chooses,' she replied, a faint blush in her cheeks.  'You must realise that we are only a little acquainted.'

             
'Yes, of course – but that will not always be the case.'  Lady Spencer smiled.  'You look lovely this evening, Arabella.  'Shall we go down and join the others?'

'What are we to do?' Arabella asked, looking at Harry anxiously the next afternoon.  She had slipped away once more to meet him in the woods, blessing the fine weather that continued to make their affair possible.  'If  Roxbourne comes…'

              'I shall not be able to visit the house while he is there,' Harry said and cursed.  'Damn the fellow!  Why must he come here now?'

             
Arabella did not tell him that she feared it might be on her account.

             
'I wish he would not come,' she cried.  'But it will not stop us meeting here like this – Oh, pray say it will not, Harry!'

             
'No – why should it?' he asked and pushed down the bodice of her gown to kiss and fondle her breasts.  'We can still meet here like this – as long as he knows nothing.  If he discovers I am here I may have to leave in a hurry.'

             
'Oh, please do not say so!'

             
'He could have me arrested for fraud.  I wagered money and property I do not own against him.'

             
'Oh, Harry…how could you?'  She stared at him in dismay.

             
'He trapped me into it,' Harry said resentfully.  'Made it impossible for me to refuse to play against him.  And then I lost so heavily that I was forced to pledge him money I did not have and a house that I had already sold.'

             
'You could go to prison for a long time.'  Arabella was horrified, but more at the prospect of losing him than at what he had done.  'If you leave – will you take me with you?'

             
'I am not sure,' Harry began doubtfully.  'I have so little money, Bella.  It would not be fair to you.'

             
'But I love you.  I would rather be your wife in poverty than another man's and lie in silk sheets.'

             
'My sweet Bella…how could I deny you anything?'

             
Harry took her down, making love to her hungrily and yet with sweetness.  He cared for her as much as he had ever cared for any woman.  She was beautiful, warm and generous in her loving.  He would be loath to part from her too soon.  At the back of his mind lingered yet another reason to take her with him…

             
Roxbourne wanted Arabella.  London had been rife with rumours that he meant to marry her.  Harry had taken a bet of five hundred guineas that he would not come up to scratch.  He could never pay the debt if he lost, but Roxbourne would never offer if he knew she had been Harry's mistress.  He was far too proud to marry a woman who had been used by a man he despised.

             
Yes, it might be worth his while to take her with him.  She would be ruined, of course, but he eased his conscience with the thought that she had never been meant for marriage to some country squire.  If she used her wits, she would find a wealthy protector when he left her.  Yes, it would be much better for her than a life of obscurity in the country.  One day she would thank him for it.

             
'Oh, Harry…' Arabella lay quivering in his arms, unaware of his thoughts as he rolled from her and gathered her against him.  'I am so happy… so very happy to be with you like this.'

             
'You were made for loving,' he murmured against her throat.  'You were born for this, Bella.  I am privileged to have been your first lover.'

             
Arabella stiffened.  What did he mean – her first?  He had promised to wed her as soon as he could.  She wanted to remind him of his promise but held her tongue, merely burrowing against him with a little mew of pleasure as his hand idly caressed her.  If she nagged him too much he might go away without her.

             
'I love you,' she whispered.  'You will take me with you if you go?'

             
'Yes, of course, Bella.  You know I adore you.'

             
A little doubt nagged at the back of her mind, but she refused to let it spoil her pleasure in the afternoon.  Here in this place of dappled shade and sunlight, she had found true happiness.  She had dreamed of being with him like this for so long, and she could not give him up now.

             
'Make love to me again, Harry,' she whispered.

             
'You are insatiable,' he murmured and laughed as he reached for her once more.  'That is why I cannot refuse you…'

             
Giving herself up to his loving, Arabella shut out her doubts.  Harry loved her.  He would take her away with him.  He would marry her.  He must!  He must…

Gervase watched as Arabella walked across the lawns towards the house.  She was carrying her chip straw hat by its ribbons, and her glorious hair was hanging loose about her shoulders, glinting with red fire in the sunshine.  His stomach clenched with desire at the sight of her.  She looked so beautiful… different somehow…that smile on her lips.

              She looked like a woman who had been making love!  Surely he was mistaken.  She had been here a little over two weeks.  It was not possible that she had found a lover in so short a time.

             
'Ah, here she comes,' Lady Spencer said, coming to stand at his shoulder in front of the window.  'Arabella loves to walk.  She goes for long walks every afternoon, but I think the exercise suits her.  She has blossomed since she came here – do you not think so?'

             
Perhaps it was merely the fresh air that had brought that glow to Arabella's eyes, but Gervase was suspicious.  His gaze narrowed as she came in through the French windows, giving a little start of surprise as she saw him.

             
'Oh… I did not know that you had arrived, sir.'

             
'You look very well, Arabella.'

             
'Thank you.'  She blushed and glanced down at the floor.  'I dare say the air suits me here – and the weather has been wonderful since I arrived.'

             
Was that a look of guilt he'd seen in her eyes before she'd dropped her gaze – or was he a jealous fool?  Was he so besotted with her that he must imagine she gave her favours to others?  He was worse than Master Shakespeare's Moor!

             
'So you have not been miserable here?'

             
'No, indeed, sir.  Lady Spencer has made me very welcome, and her friends have all been kind to me.'

             
'Arabella has half the young men in the county running after her,' Lady Spencer trilled.  She had immediately sensed Gervase's hunger and was determined that he should come to the point at last.  'I believe John Carstairs is in love with her and she is generally admired.'

             
'Oh no!  You make too much of mere kindness,' Arabella disclaimed.  Lady Spencer had not yet mentioned Harry Sylvester but she might at any moment.  'Mr Carstairs is a flirt, ma'am.  You must know he does not mean the things he says.'

             
'You are too modest, Arabella,' Lady Spencer said with a naughty glance at Gervase.  'But I shall not make you blush, my dear.  Indeed, I shall leave you to talk with my cousin for I have something I must say to my housekeeper.'

             
She gave a gurgle of laughter and took herself off, leaving them to stare at one another in silence.

             
'I had no idea my cousin could be so rattle-headed,' Gervase remarked.  'Do not look so apprehensive, Arabella.  No one expects you to live like a Nun.  You are young and beautiful and men will always admire you –' And he was a fool to be jealous!  He would conquer his feelings.  'Tell me, have you heard from your father?'

             
'No – No, I have not.'  Arabella frowned.  She had been too deep in her affair with Harry to think that strange until he asked, but now she wondered at it.  'I had expected him to write before this.'

             
'As I understand it he has been unwell,' Gervase told her.  'I was near your home a few days ago and called on him.  He bid me tell you there is no cause for concern.  It was merely a chill that went to his chest.  He is feeling much better and sends you his constant love.'

             
'Thank you.'  Arabella's eyes were unexpectedly moist.  'It was kind of you to call on my father, and to bring me news of him.'

             
'I can be kind sometimes,' Gervase said and smiled at her in a way that was oddly unsettling.  'It is just that I have a perverse sense of humour – and a wicked tongue.  I fear that my teasing has given you a dislike of my company, mistress?'

             
'Oh…no, of course not,' she said, feeling flustered.  He had never spoken to her so gently before and she did not know how to respond to a man she had never glimpsed or suspected existed.  'That is …you have made me angry several times, sir.'

             
'I know it and must beg your pardon for it,' Gervase admitted wryly.  'Come, Arabella – may we not be friends?  I would be a kind friend to you if you would let me.'

             
She felt shy as she looked at him, wondering whether to believe in this man or not.  Surely this could not be the same man she had cursed a hundred times?  She had always been sensible of his charm, though it had not often been turned on her, but this soft note to his voice was almost mesmerising.  She seemed drawn to him against her will.

             
'I – I don't know, perhaps,' she said hesitantly.

             
'You do not trust me,' Gervase said.  'I cannot blame you, for I have behaved ill towards you, but I shall make amends.  Lady Spencer tells me you like to walk.  Perhaps you will allow me to walk with you tomorrow?'