Arabella (20 page)

             
'Exclusive rights?'

             
'Why yes, my lord.  I would not expect the kind of price I am asking to be paid for one night of her undoubted charms.'

             
'What if the buyer wanted to take her away?'

             
'It would have to be a very special price,' Elizabeth said.  'At least twice or three times what anyone else would pay.'

             
Gervase nodded.  'If anyone were fool enough to pay such a price for used goods.'

             
'How can you doubt that she is a virgin, fresh up from the country and a sheltered upbringing by my own dear brother.'

             
'If you have a brother, madam, which I doubt,' Gervase drawled.  'I dare swear he never spawned that beauty.  Nevertheless I may be tempted to bid – but if I do she is mine and I take her with me.  And the arrangement would remain private between us. No one would know that I had paid more to take her away. Understood?'

             
Elizabeth shivered as she looked into his cold eyes.  She would be ill advised to cross this man and she knew it.

             
'Of course, my lord. Excuse me, I must see that Arabella is settled for the night.  I would not have her anxious if she hears unusual noises.'

             
Gervase frowned as she hurried in the wake of her so-called niece, wondering what had prompted him to make the offer.  He was a fool to bother, but he would not have Arabella passed from man to man, as she would be once the first had done with her.

             
Perhaps he would bid for her and perhaps he would leave before the auction began…

Arabella had the cloak and wig in her room.  She was just about to change into one of her plainer gowns when her door opened and Mistress Elizabeth entered bearing a tray and wine glasses.

              'I wanted to have a little celebration with you,' she said.  'Wish me happy, Arabella.  One of my gentlemen has offered to take me away from all this and make me rich.'

             
'He will marry you?'  Arabella was surprised, accepting the glass from Elizabeth's hand.  'I thought you were happy here with your girls?'

             
'And so I am,' Elizabeth told her with a smile.  'But I would prefer to be kept in luxury – what woman would not, my dear?'  She raised her glass to Arabella.  'I shall sell my house to someone who will look after my girls, but of course some of them may wish to leave…'

             
'You will allow those who wish it to leave?'

             
'Yes, of course,' Elizabeth said.  'I have always been kind to them but a new owner might not be as lenient.  Any who wish to leave may do so, of course.  You too, Arabella.  In the morning I shall give you the name of a friend who might take you in.  She is not in my trade but runs a dressmaking establishment and needs a girl to show off her clothes.  That might suit you, my dear.'

             
'I had not thought…' Arabella blushed as she recalled what had been in her mind.  'You are very kind, ma'am.'

             
'Wish me well, my dear.  Will you not drink a last toast with me?'

             
'Yes, of course.'  Arabella lifted her glass and took a sip.  She grimaced as she swallowed it.  'It was bitter…what did you put in it?'  A look of horror came to her eyes as she realised the wine had been tampered with.  'You are trying to drug me.  I shall not drink any more of that foul stuff.  What mischief are you about?'

             
'It is merely a little sleeping draught so that you do not listen to things you should not hear.  Finish it up, Arabella…please.'

             
'I shall not!'  Arabella threw the glass down, the rich red wine splashing over the carpet.  'And I shall leave here…'

             
'Mowley, get in here!  She's going to be difficult.'

             
Arabella looked at the door as it opened and a large, ugly man walked in.  His face looked as if he had been ill of the pox at some time, his skin pitted and scarred, one eyelid puckered at the corners.

             
'No, you can't make me…' Arabella backed away from him but he sprang at her, gripping her arms and holding them behind her.  'No…' she tried to shut her mouth against the wine as Elizabeth held the second glass to her lips, but Mowley pulled her head back and as she gasped wine was poured into her mouth.  She spat as much of it as she could out, but she knew that some of it had gone down her throat.  'I shall not…'

             
But already her head was beginning to spin.  As she sagged, Elizabeth's henchman caught her, carrying her easily to dump her carelessly on the bed.

             
'Shall I strip her?'

             
'No, leave her,' Elizabeth told him.  'I think the gentleman I have in mind will want her just as she is…'

             
Arabella fought the dizziness sweeping over her.  She lifted her head, trying to call out, to beg Mistress Elizabeth not to do this to her, but she was falling…falling into a black pit that seemed to go on and on forever.

             
How foolish she had been to trust that woman!  Better that she died in the street giving birth to Harry's son than that she should live to become a whore, at the mercy of any man who was willing to pay for her.

             
Just before she closed her eyes, Arabella remembered a man who had offered to cover her body with jewels if she would become his mistress.  She had scorned his offer so proudly and now she was sunk to this level…the taste was bitter indeed.

Arabella stirred and gave a little cry as she felt the pain in her head.  The sheets felt smooth beneath her body, for she was quite naked, and they smelled fresh…like flowers.  She opened her eyes and looked about her, trying to remember where she was and what had happened.

             
The curtains at the window had been opened to let in the morning light and she could see that a pale sun was shining outside.  She pushed herself up gingerly against a pile of soft pillows, looking about her warily.  Her head felt as if a thousand drums were beating inside it and for a moment she could not think what had happened.  Had she been ill?  What had happened to her?

             
She had been somewhere else last night…at Mistress Elizabeth's bawdyhouse!  And they had drugged her.  Elizabeth and her henchman had forced the drugged wine down her throat, because…she was about to be sold to a man!

             
Arabella saw that a jug filled with water had been placed on the table by the bed, and a glass beside it.  She hesitated, then filled the glass and took a sip.  It appeared to taste as it should and she gulped at it greedily, glad of its coolness on her parched throat.  When the glass was empty she placed it back on the tray and flung back the bedclothes, putting her feet to the floor.  As she tried to stand, her head began to swim and she was forced to lie back against the pillows once more.

             
She would have to stay where she was for the moment.  Those devils had done their work well!  She could not escape if she wished – but where was she?  Not in Mistress Elizabeth's house.  This was a very different place, the house of a gentleman if she were not mistaken.

             
The room was much larger than the one she had used in the bawdyhouse, and well appointed with quality furniture in a rich deep mahogany.  The bed sheets were the best linen, the heavy coverings and the hangings at the window of damask silk, the colours varying shades of dark blue and silver with touches of cream to lighten the effect.  It was almost certainly a gentleman's bedroom and she had been brought here for his pleasure.

             
She had been in no state for seduction last night, Arabella reflected.  Perhaps that was yet to come, for no true gentleman wanted to take his pleasure when the lady concerned was in the state she had been last night.

             
Hearing the sound of a man's tread outside her room, she stiffened, holding the covers to her breasts in an effort to cover her nakedness.  If only her head did not ache so very much, she would give whoever had bought her a piece of her mind.  She looked around for something to throw at the man should he come in, but the only thing to hand was the jug of water.

             
The tension mounted inside her as she heard the door handle turn, and then it opened very slowly.  Oh, what she would not like to do to Mistress Elizabeth and her henchman for putting her in this position!

             
And then she was staring at a face she knew, too shocked to do more than gape as he entered the room and stood looking at her.  Her hand strayed towards the water jug and then halted.  Gervase Roxbourne was one man she did not dare to throw water over!

             
'So you are awake,' Gervase said with a frown.  'I must apologise for the way you were treated last night, Arabella.  Had I known what she intended…but it seems you are none the worse for it.'

             
'None the worse?'  Arabella felt the indignation rise in her.  'If you knew how much my head aches you would not make such foolish remarks, sir!  But I dare say this is all your fault.  If you had not abducted me…' She grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at him in a surge of temper.  He ducked his head and it landed harmlessly beyond him. 'Damn you!'

             
'Ah, I see I was right,' Gervase said with an odd smile.  'Whatever has happened to you since we last met, at least your spirit has not been broken.  I am very glad to see you in such good health, Arabella.'

             
'I've just told you I have a terrible headache.'

             
'That will pass,' he said.  'My housekeeper will bring you a tisane if you ring for her – and I assure you it will not be drugged.  If you stay in this house you do so of your own free will.'

             
'But I thought…' Arabella hesitated as she saw his eyes narrow.  'What exactly did happen last night?  I know I was drugged to make sure I didn't try to run away, but I do not understand what happened.'

             
'You really do not know?'

             
'I know that I was tricked and then forced into taking drugged wine, but I know no more.'

             
'You were auctioned to the highest bidder.  I bought you on the condition that I brought you home with me.'

             
'You bought me in auction!' Arabella gasped, staring at him in horror.  'How could you do such a disgusting thing?'

             
'You would prefer that I had let Snoddington or Entwhistle buy you instead?' Gervase raised his brows at her.  'I dare say they would take you off my hands if you wish?'

             
She stared at him furiously at a loss for an answer, then, with dignity, 'I would have preferred not to be bought by anyone.  She had no right to do it.'

             
'We are in perfect agreement there,' Gervase told her his mouth crooking in a smile.  'It is my belief that Mistress Elizabeth and her kind should be more tightly controlled by the law, but while the law makers of our time are amongst her customers, it is unlikely it will happen. Indeed, I happen to know that a certain lord put up the money for her in the first place.'

             
'You were amongst her customers last night.'

             
'For the purpose of observation only.  I went to please a friend.'

             
'Jack Meadows I suppose.'  Arabella glared at him.  'Did he tell you I was there?'

             
'He wasn't sure it was you until last night.'  His eyes narrowed.  'How did you come to be there?  Was it not of your own choosing?'

             
'I was in trouble and she helped me…' Tears welled up in her eyes.  'I was alone and my child was coming in the street.  I had been to the prison to see Harry and…'

             
'You had a child?'  Gervase gave no sign of the powerful effect her words were having on him, his expression unchanged.  'What happened to it?'

             
'Elizabeth told me my son died soon after he was born,' Arabella said.  'I had a terrible time at the birth and then they gave me something to drink and when I woke…the child had gone.'

             
'I see…' not a flicker of a muscle to tell her what was in his mind.  'So Mistress Elizabeth George looked after you and you agreed to work for her in payment.'

             
'No, I wanted to send for my things, to sell something to pay her, but she wouldn't hear of it.  Then she asked me to a party and said that I should just smile and be friendly towards her guests, but I knew that she had other girls there and that they were supposed to be her nieces.  I told her that I would help entertain her gentlemen with smiles and conversation, but that I would not take them to my room.  She agreed and I thought…but she was merely pushing up my price.'

             
'Yes, that was the general idea,' Gervase said, a faint smile on his lips.  'It might please you to know that your price was above a thousand guineas at the auction.' And he had paid another two for the privilege of taking her away afterwards.  His anger when he found she had been drugged had been strictly controlled, but Mistress Elizabeth might find herself up before the magistrates one of these days.

             
'That's not fair,' Arabella said.  'She didn't own me.  Why should she be paid all that money?'

             
She was thinking that a thousand guineas would have gone some considerable way to paying Harry's debts.

             
'It is gratifying that you are so concerned for my pockets,' Gervase drawled.  'However, it was but a trifling sum.  The point is that having got you – what am I do with you?'

             
'What do you mean?' Arabella flushed and pulled the bedcovers closer around her.  'You said I was free to go if I wished.'

             
'As you are, of course,' Gervase agreed.  'If you stay it will be by mutual consent for as long as we please each other.'

             
'As your mistress?'

             
'Certainly as my mistress,' Gervase replied.  'Had you not been another man's mistress it might have been otherwise, but now I cannot offer you marriage, Arabella.  Only my protection, a house of your own, and a generous settlement.'

             
Might have been otherwise?  Had he been thinking of asking her to marry him before she ran away with Harry?  She felt a sense of regret, of loss, as though something precious had slipped through her fingers without her realising it at the time.

             
'And if I do not choose to be your mistress?'  Her eyes met his defiantly.

             
'Then I shall give you a few guineas to tide you over and wish you good fortune.'  Gervase shrugged carelessly.  'It is entirely your choice, Arabella.  I doubt you will find anyone willing to marry you now – unless it be a cit, who has not heard of your infamous past.'

             
Arabella's cheeks turned a fiery red but she continued to meet his gaze without blushing.  'My father would take me in.'

             
The expression in Gervase's eyes changed suddenly.  'I have no doubt he would had he been able, Arabella – but I regret I must tell you that he passed away almost a year ago.  I was with him just before he died and I know that he had not ceased to care for you.'

             
'My father dead?'  She was stunned for a moment, and then the tears burst out of her and she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.  'Papa…no…. No…'

             
'Do not cry, sweetheart,' Gervase said in a voice softer than any she had previously heard from him.  She felt him pull her hands from her face and then, as she looked at him, his arms went round her.  He lowered his head to hers, kissing her lips softly.  'I am sorry I could not have brought you better news, Bella.'

             
Her eyes were dark with misery as she looked up at him. 'I did not know he was ill…'

             
'He wrote to ask you to go home but…'

             
'I had gone with Harry,' Arabella said and a sob broke from her.  'I am truly punished now.'

             
'Talk not of punishment,' Gervase said, feeling oddly affected by her grief.  'You could not have saved him, nor would he want you to blame yourself.  You were foolish to give yourself to that scoundrel but it is over now.  Forget him and come to me.  I will promise to make your life sweeter than it has been this last year or so.'

             
'My lord…Gervase, I…' She got no further for his mouth was on hers once more, but this time it was not a kiss of comfort, but a hungry, devouring thing that took her breath and left her senses whirling into space.  She clung to him as the desire suddenly raged in her, her body melting in the heat of their mutual passion, going suddenly limp as he let her go and she fell back against the pillows.  She was breathless, shocked by the fierceness of her response as she lay looking up at him. What had caused her to feel that way?  He smiled as he saw the expression in her eyes. 'That is very much better, my love.  I have waited a long time to see such a look in your eyes and it was worth the wait.'

             
'W-what do you mean?'

             
'You know very well,' Gervase said, a smile flickering about his mouth.  'We shall deal well together, my sweet.  I dare say you need to recover from your ordeal, and I have business.  Take this and buy yourself something pretty to wear for this evening.  I have ordered the clothes you were wearing last night burned.'

             
Arabella looked at the pouch of gold he had left on the table beside the bed.  There must be enough in there to pay at least a half of Harry's debts.  She tipped her head to one side as she looked up at Gervase.

             
'Supposing I take your money and run away?'

             
'Where would you go?  There are many more like Mistress Elizabeth waiting for naïve girls like you, Arabella, and most are not as kind as she.  And there are worse places than her house or mine.  Think carefully, my love, for I shall not rescue you twice.'

             
She felt the hot colour in her cheeks as his eyes dwelled on her and knew that she would not enjoy seeing Gervase truly angry.

             
'I was but teasing you,' she said.  'I have not made up my mind to stay with you, but if I go I shall not take your money.'

             
He shrugged carelessly.  'Take it and welcome,' he said.  'But you will find me a generous protector, Bella.  And you may find that your life would be hard with no friends and no lover – but the choice is yours.'

             
She watched as he left the room, her heart racing.  Gervase was a dangerous man and she knew that she had pushed him to the limit.  The offer he had made her was exceedingly generous since he had already bought and paid for her.  Had she been bought by one of the other men he had named, her fate would not have been as pleasant.

             
Indeed, she did not know why she had not fallen on his neck with gratitude.  His kiss had shown her that it would be no hardship to be his mistress, but something in her rebelled against giving him his way without fighting.

             
And yet…her thoughts were so confusing, so distressing, that she threw back the covers and jumped out of bed.  For a moment she swayed but even as she thought of returning to bed the door opened and a plump, smiling woman entered with a tray of food and a pot of hot chocolate.

             
'You must not think of getting up until you've eaten, milady,' she said in a mildly scolding tone.  'I am Mrs Bumpstead, the housekeeper here. Milord said that you had a headache and would need one of my tisanes.  Eat some of these nice bits and pieces I've made for you, and drink your chocolate.  Then you shall have your tisane and the maid will bring you hot water and a clean gown to wear.'

             
Arabella thanked her, but instead of returning to bed she asked if the tray might be taken to the table by the window, where she could sit in comfort in the elbow chair.  'I shall sit there and look out as I eat,' she said.  'And when I have eaten I shall dress and go for a walk.'

             
Mrs Bumpstead nodded her head and went out, leaving Arabella to nibble at the dainty morsels that had been prepared for her.  She had a lot of thinking to do and she would do it best on a full stomach, and to her surprise she had discovered that she was hungry.

CHAPTER NINE

Sulking would do her no good at all, Arabella decided after she had eaten.  She was feeling very much better and had enjoyed the housekeeper's tisane, which tasted of honey and lemons. Getting up, she wandered over to the bed where a fresh gown had been laid out for her, looking at it with distaste.  It appeared to be a maid's Sunday best!

              Was there nothing better in this house?  Her hand hovered near the bell pull and then she changed her mind, walking over to the armoire ranged against the far wall and opening it.  As she glanced inside, she saw that most of the garments belonged to a man, presumably Gervase himself, but then she caught sight of a bright blue material tucked away at the back and discovered it was a pretty gown.  It was of a fashion worn some years earlier, but still more stylish than the maid's, and when she took it out she saw that it was almost her size.  The bodice would have to be laced loosely to accommodate her, but otherwise it was perfect.

             
Arabella tried it on, her spirits lifting as she saw herself in the dressing mirror.  A vast improvement on the gown provided, she thought and tied the lace fichu that had been brought with the dull gown around her shoulders to cover the rather revealing bodice.

             
As she went downstairs, Mrs Bumpstead gave her a rather startled look, but schooled her features as Arabella gave her a haughty stare.

             
'I would have a carriage,' she said, meaning that she wanted the footman to hire her one.