Arabella (15 page)

             
She did love Harry.  She did!  This guilty, anxious feeling, this sense of loss, would go when she was with him.  It was foolish to feel so low when she was gaining everything she had longed for.

             
Reaching the woods, Arabella caught a glimpse of an elegant carriage beginning to sweep through the grounds of the Spencer's house.  She thought it was probably Lord Roxbourne returning from his business in Bristol, and the thought made her increase her pace.

             
She must reach Harry before Lord Roxbourne discovered that she was missing!  Something told her that he would come after her if he guessed that she was running off with Lord Sylvester.

             
He must not find her!  She did not know why the thought of Lord Roxbourne's anger should disturb her so, but it did.  She must not allow him to take her back…'

             
Arabella walked quickly through the trees until she saw the carriage drawn up at the edge of the wood where it joined the highroad.  Harry was pacing up and down, looking anxious.  Her heart lifted as she saw him – he had been afraid that she would not come.

             
'Harry…'

             
'You came.'  He smiled and moved to take her bundle from her.  'I thought you might change your mind.  You are a brave girl, Bella.'  For a moment he genuinely admired her courage and felt the nearest thing to love he had ever experienced.

             
'I love you, Harry.'

             
'I know you do.'  He kissed her briefly on the mouth, then opened the carriage door for her to get in.  'Quickly, Bella!  I do not want to be stopped now.'

             
Arabella obeyed.  She was trembling as she sank back against the squabs.  There was no going back now.  She was a fallen woman and soon everyone would know of her shame.  She thought of her father's disappointment and it was like a thorn pricking her heart.  He would understand!  He must understand.  She would write and beg him to forgive her as soon as she and Harry were married.

             
She turned to smile at Harry as he climbed into the carriage with her after giving the driver the order to move off.

             
'Where are we going?'

             
'To London,' he said and grinned at her.  'We're rich, Bella.  I won five hundred guineas last night from Carstairs.  He was none too pleased this morning, but he paid up.  We have money to keep me going at the tables.  My luck has turned.  You'll see, we'll be rolling in it before long.'

Arabella wasn't certain she shared his optimism.  Five hundred guineas was indeed a fair sum – they might have lived comfortably on it for a year or more in the country, but money was as easily lost as won at the tables.  How long would it be before Harry was in debt again?

Once they were married she would try to make him see sense.  They could go home to her father and live quite comfortably on what Harry could earn by managing the estate with economy.

Yes, she would wait until they were wed and then she would persuade him that they should make their home with Sir Edward.

Her sense of panic was beginning to fade.  There was no need to feel guilty.  She was doing nothing so very wrong.  And Lord Roxbourne would soon forget all about her…

'Gone!  What do you mean gone?' Gervase stared at his cousin in growing frustration.  'How can she have simply disappeared?  Has she taken her clothes?'

              'I think one or two things are missing… I cannot be sure.'  Lady Spencer sighed.  'I had a headache and stayed in bed.  I thought Arabella meant to ride with friends, but apparently she sent word that she was tired.'

             
'Have you made a search for her?'

             
'Yes, at least I have sent a servant to look for her.  I did not wish to make a fuss.  She may have gone home or something.  She seemed a little odd last evening.  I thought …perhaps you had quarrelled with her?'

             
'We did not quarrel.'  Gervase scowled.  'I went to the receiving office on my way back here.  There was a letter from her home, which I have taken the liberty of opening.'

             
'Gervase!  You had no right.'  Lady Spencer was shocked.

             
'I had news myself – her father is desperately ill.  She is requested to return at once.'

             
'Perhaps she has gone home,' Lady Spencer suggested, looking relieved.  'She may have got word…'

             
'How?  Has any other letter come for her?'

             
'Not to my knowledge.  Perhaps her friend told her – he may have heard.'

             
'What friend?'

             
'Oh – I forgot.  He has not been to the house since you arrived.  A young man, a friend of Mr Carstairs – Lord Harry Sylvester.  They know each other … a family friend I imagine.'

             
'Sylvester has been here in this house?'

             
Lady Spencer gasped as she saw the fury in his eyes.  'Yes – is something wrong with that, Gervase?  He appeared to be a pleasant enough man.  Always respectful.  Arabella seemed to like…' she clapped a hand to her mouth.  'You do not think…?  No, surely not!  She would never do something so wicked – would she?'

             
'I do not know – but Sylvester is a careless rogue.  She would not be the first innocent he has duped and ruined.'

             
'Oh, Gervase!  I did not know.  Truly I did not.'

             
'Mine is the fault,' he said grimly.  'I have kept silent too long.  I should have spoken out long ago.  Sylvester ruined my sister and abandoned her.  She died of shame after giving birth to his child – who later died of neglect.  And that was my father's shame.'

             
'My dear…forgive me.  I would never have had that evil man in my house…'

             
'You could not know.'  Gervase's eyes were bleak.  'We do not yet know that she has gone with him.  I beg you, Margaret, be discreet.  I must go to her home and do what I can for her father.'

             
'She may be there,' Lady Spencer said.  'Yes, yes, she may be there.'

             
'I pray God she is,' Gervase replied.  'But I fear she has gone with Sylvester.'

             
'Then she is ruined.'

             
'Yes.'

             
He turned and strode from the house without another word.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Gervase's mood had not improved since his return from the country some six months earlier.  Jack had been told little of what had transpired there, but he had deduced that Arabella had disappeared, seemingly without trace.

              'Damn the wench,' he said now and received a scowl for his pains.  'She isn't worth it, Gervase.  No woman is.'

             
'I promised her father on his deathbed that I would find her,' Gervase replied, his tone cold, emotionless, hiding the tumult of anger and fear raging inside him.  'It is for no other reason that I have spent so much time trying to find her.'

             
'She might be anywhere,' Jack pointed out reasonably.  'If she went with him…'

             
'We do not yet know for certain that she did,' Gervase snapped angry despite knowing that his friend was probably speaking the truth.  'I have found no evidence, though my agents have made countless inquiries.'

             
'Did not one of them say a young woman resembling Mistress Tucker had been seen in a coach with a man on the London road?'

             
'There was one sighting, but Sylvester is so damned devious it might easily have been a ploy to deceive.  As yet, I've had no reports of his being seen in his old haunts.'

             
'Surely he would not dare to show his face in town?' Jack said and raised his brows.  'He must know he would be arrested?'

             
'Sylvester must live on what he wins at the tables,' Gervase replied.  'If he found somewhere on the road where he could use his talents to advantage, he might linger there.  Indeed, it might serve his purpose better than being in town.'  His eyes were bleak as he looked at Jack, betraying more than he knew.  'Where is she, Jack?  What has he done to her?'

             
'You fear she may be dead … that she may have perhaps killed herself in a fit of despair?'  Jack guessed at his private nightmare.  'Nay, my friend, you let your memories mislead you.  Mistress Tucker is not your sister.  Helen was gentle and timid, easily brought to tears and shamed.  Arabella Tucker is a survivor.  She would not take her own life – even if he abandoned her as he did Helen.'

             
'You are a good friend.'  Gervase smiled.  'I must believe you, for otherwise I am damned.  I should have told her what kind of a man he was.'

             
'The blame was not yours.'

             
Jack privately thought the wench had always been ripe for seduction, and wondered at Gervase's interest in her.  She was beautiful but there were other women as lovely.  What was it about her that tormented Gervase?

             
Gervase could not have answered him had he asked.  In the night when he woke from a nightmare sweating and tormented, he told himself angrily to forget her.  She was just another woman – and she had chosen to run away with the man he hated above all others.

             
He should forget her – and yet the thought that she might be alone and in trouble would not let him rest, haunting his dreams until he cried out and woke in fear.  He must find her and make certain she was not harmed, if only to fulfil the promise he had given to her father as he lay dying.

             
Where had Sylvester hidden her?  Were they still together?  Knowing what a careless rogue Sylvester was, Gervase thought he might have abandoned her long since.

             
He must and would find her somehow!

'Why must we move again?' Arabella asked.  She was feeling tired, even though she carried her pregnancy well and still looked beautiful at nearly six months gone.  'You said we were going to London.  You promised we would marry once we got settled there.'

              'And we shall,' Harry said and stooped to drop a kiss on top of her head.  She stilled smelled as good as ever, though her life had not been easy these past months as they travelled from inn to inn never staying in one town for more than a few days at a time.  He wondered at himself that he had not left her behind in one of those towns.  Once he had left their bed meaning to sneak off before she woke, but she had called out to him softly in the darkness and he had gone back to her.  Besides, he had been lucky at the tables and he half believed she had brought him the luck – and he still wanted her.  'You shall have your way, Bella,' he said now and grinned at her.  'We're going to London this afternoon.'

             
'Truly?'  She had been resting on the oak settle in their bedchamber with her back against a cushion, but now she jumped up and hugged him.  'And we shall be wed?'

             
'Don't nag me, Bella,' Harry said.  'I'm taking you to London.  I'm sick of moving from town to town in the hope of finding a young fool I can fleece.  Last night I won a paltry five guineas.  It's not enough.  I need a rich pigeon for plucking and I'll find him in London.'

             
Arabella looked at him doubtfully.  Once she would have asked him if he cheated the young men he played with night after night.  It was not often that he lost these days and she could not help wondering if there was more than luck and skill on his side.  However, they had argued fiercely on three occasions when she had pushed him too far, and she was afraid to do it again.

             
A part of her still believed that he loved her, that he would eventually marry her, but the doubts were more prevalent these days.  Harry was capable of wild mood swings, one moment charming and loving, the next sullen and withdrawn.  She had learned that the only way to tease him out of his moods was to coax him to bed.  Sometimes she wondered what would happen in the last months of her childbearing.  Would Harry grow tired of seeing her body heavy and swollen?  Would he leave her when he did?