Arabella (24 page)

             
She must be happy that she had been given so much, Arabella decided.  She had come close to losing everything, perhaps even her life, for to have continued longer in Mistress Elizabeth's bawdyhouse would have led to disease and suffering.  Gervase had saved her from that and she was grateful to him.  There were times when she came close to loving him, and only her fear of giving too much of herself held her back.

             
It would not be wise to love a man like Gervase, Arabella realised.  He seemed to care for her, but he might tire soon enough, and this time her heart would truly break.

             
No, this time, she would be wiser.  She would hold a little of herself in reserve against the time when Gervase no longer desired her, for if she did not she was lost.

Arabella settled quickly into her new life.  Gervase visited her almost every night, even those when she was suffering her womanly flow and could not take him to her bed.  They often spent those evenings quietly, playing games of chance, reading aloud, performing some piece of music or simply talking.  At other times, he took her to the theatre, to parties given by his friends, at which she met other ladies who were in a similar situation to her own, and to the opera again.

             
They also held their own entertainment at Gervase's house.  Card evenings and soirees, a small dance, which was attended by some ladies and gentlemen she had not thought would enter a house that she was known to frequent.  It seemed that she was being accepted as the marquis's mistress, for their liaison had lasted several months and seemed as if it might continue, and there were many who did not choose to cut such a wealthy man.  They spent a few weeks in Paris and talked of visiting Italy and Venice the following spring.

             
At Christmas they went down to Gervase's country house, and he invited a large party of mixed company.  Only one lady declined to accompany her husband, who came anyway, for Roxbourne's hospitality was lavish.  He excused his wife on the grounds that they had hope she might be increasing, but Arabella knew that it was because the lady would not want to meet her on such intimate terms.

             
Despite such small pinpricks, she was happy.  Her life was fuller than she could have expected, and when on their return to town her aunt came to visit her, she felt that her cup was overflowing.

             
'It is foolish for us to be enemies,' Lady Mary told her.  'It would have been so much better if you had married him, Arabella – but there, it is no use to cry over spilled milk.  You have been fortunate, my dear, and I hope you appreciate your happy position?'

             
'Oh, I do, aunt,' Arabella told her.  'We are both very happy.'

             
'Then I shall not scold you for past foolishness.  Be careful not to upset Roxbourne, Arabella, that is all I would say to you.  He is generous to a fault – but they say he makes a bad enemy.'

             
'I need no warning, aunt.  Besides…'  She left the sentence unfinished.  Her thoughts were private and she would not share them with her aunt.

             
She often thought that she could love Gervase, if only she felt that her love was returned.  He was still a mystery to her.  They shared so much that was good, but there were parts of his life that he held back from her.  She still had no idea of the identity of the woman he had loved so much that her clothes were not to be defiled by another woman's touch – or where his wealth came from – though she knew he had a great deal of money.  He spent it lavishly, on her, on his horses, and gave freely to his friends when he was minded to do so.

             
She had asked him once why he was so trustful of Jack Meadows.

             
'Do you not like him, Bella?'  Gervase raised an eyebrow.  'Has he said or done anything to displease you?'

             
'No, not at all.  He is always most respectful,' she replied.  'I think he takes advantage of your good nature, Gervase, that is all.'

             
Gervase laughed softly.  'Jack knows how far he can go,' he replied.  'There is a debt I owe him, but even that would not save him if he tried to touch you.'  The smile died from his eyes.  'You would tell me if there was anything?'

             
'There is a look in his eyes sometimes,' she admitted.  'But no more than in other men's eyes.  He has never said or done anything that you would dislike, I promise you.'

             
'Jack knows his fate if he did,' Gervase said, his good humour restored.  'What shall I give you as a birthday gift, my love?'

             
'I lack for nothing,' she told him truthfully.  'You have been so generous, Gervase.  I would have your approval, nothing more.'

             
'Nothing more?'  He tipped her chin up with his finger, quizzing her.  'Not even an emerald ring to go with the necklace I bought you at Christmas?'

             
'If you wish to give it to me,' Arabella said.  'But I am content as I am.'

             
'You run the risk of sounding too fond, my sweet,' Gervase told her, a wry smile on his lips.  'You will have me thinking you truly care for me if you are not careful.'

             
'I should be a fool if I did not.'

             
'Yes…'  Gervase looked at her thoughtfully.  'Whatever you are, you are not that, Bella.  Should I believe you?  Women are ever free with soft smiles and pleasant words when you please them – but seldom mean them.  If I were to believe you, I might demand so much more of you, my love.'

             
'What do you mean?'

             
Gervase shook his head.  'I might ask something of you that you would not care to give,' he said.  'Perhaps it is best that we go on as we are for the moment.'

             
Arabella had puzzled over his odd words.  What could he mean?  What could she give him that he did not already possess?  She could think of nothing and in the end gave it up.

             
Gervase was the one who gave.  She had nothing to give but her body and he already possessed that whenever and as often as he chose.

CHAPTER TEN

They had been together more than a year, longer than she had had been with Harry, Arabella realised as she opened the gift that had arrived for her that morning with a note from Gervase.  He had not spent the previous night with her, because he had been out of town for three days on business, but he had not forgotten to send her a gift for this special day.

              His note said that he was back in town and would be taking her to the theatre that night and hoped she had a special gown to wear to accompany his small gift.  The small gift was a parure of pearls and diamonds, consisting of a tiara, necklace, matching bracelet and earrings.

             
Arabella thought of the new gown she had purchased from Madame Suzanne.  It was a deep green silk trimmed with seed pearls on the bodice and at the hem, and would set off Gervase's gift to perfection.  She had so many jewels now that she had begun to tire of them, to long for something more – something that she did not quite understand but knew came from deep down inside her.

             
She had hoped that she might have some news for Gervase on his return, news that she hoped might please him, but her monthly flow had come several days late and she knew that she was not with child.  It was strange that she had not conceived, Arabella thought, and wondered if the birth of her first child had damaged her in some way.  She had suffered a terrible ordeal, though on the outside her body had healed quickly.  Perhaps it was not the same inwardly.

             
She often though of the child that she had lost.  He would be almost fourteen months old now if he had lived – but she must not let herself think of the past.  That was over and she had a wonderful new life.  Harry was nothing but a memory to her now.

             
It was strange that she had never seen him, though.  When Gervase was in London, which was most of the time, they went to various theatres and sometimes an exclusive gaming club, which admitted both gentlemen and ladies, providing the lady was accompanied by a gentleman.  She had thought they might see Harry at one of these public places of entertainment, but somehow they never had.  Arabella was glad of it, for she knew that Gervase hated him, and she did not want to see them quarrel in public.

             
She was pleased that Gervase was home and that she would be seeing him that evening.  He had been a little odd just before he went away, secretive, and she had wondered if there was another woman, but she had not dared to ask.  Gervase did not tell her about his business and he had sworn that it was business that took him from town.  She could only accept his word and pray that he was not tiring of her.

             
Yet the fear had grown these past days.  What would she do if Gervase no longer wanted her?

             
She refused to think of what her life might become.  Gervase must still care for her or he would not have sent her such a lovely gift.

             
She prayed that he did for she did not know what she would do if she were suddenly alone.

'Have you been good while I was away, my sweet?'

             
Arabella raised her head proudly.  'You should not need to ask that, Gervase.  You know that I would not betray you.  I am not the one who has secrets.'

             
Gervase gave a wry smile.  'One day you shall know my secret.  I had hoped it might be this time, Bella, but it was not to be.'

             
'You talk in riddles!'  She looked at him crossly.  It was all of a piece.  He would tell her nothing, which meant that he did not trust her.  'I do not know what to make of you.'

             
'Do you not, my love?'  He raised his brow but went no further.

             
His refusal to answer her unspoken questions made her feel irritable and a little on edge as they left for the theatre that night.  Gervase expected her to trust him, but he would not share his life with her.  He said that he cared for her, that there was no other woman he wanted – that there had never been a woman he cared for as he did her – but still he kept his secrets.

             
Would he have done so if she had been his wife?  Perhaps, she admitted.  Many husbands kept secrets from their wives. However, she was not his wife, and that had begun to rankle.  She had everything she wanted except that which she wanted most.

             
Arabella did not know why she wanted marriage so much.  Her life could hardly be more satisfying than now.  Yet there was a vague dissatisfaction, a need she could not fill. Perhaps it was because it was denied her, she realised and gave a wry smile.  She had ever been contrary.

             
Gervase glanced at her as he handed her down from the carriage.

             
'You are very quiet this evening, my sweet?'

             
'My thoughts are my own, Gervase.  You do not own them.'

             
'What does that mean?'  His eyes narrowed suspiciously.  What was the matter with her?  She had behaved oddly ever since his return. Was she beginning to tire of their relationship? 

He had thought to bring her news that would please her, but it had been a false trail and his search must go on.  To tell her what was in his mind would be to arouse false hopes, and he would not do that, nor would he tell her yet of his plans for the future.  Plans that he had begun to make the night he rescued her from the whorehouse…

Arabella took her seat in their box at the theatre, settling down to watch the play, which was a comedy, and one that she had looked forward to seeing.  The lights had not gone down yet and as she let her eyes wander over the audience, she noticed a man looking up at her.  He made her what she considered a mocking bow, his eyes insolent as they rested on the neckline of her gown, which was décolleté and quite daring.  Gervase had looked at it askance when he arrived that evening, but had not insisted that she change it.  Now she wished that she had worn a fichu with it, realising that she did not care to be stared at that way.  Especially when the man ogling her was Harry Sylvester – and by the look of him he had been drinking heavily.