Arabella (8 page)

             
'You want him for yourself, of course,' Nan accused.  'You knew I had made up my mind to take him and you deliberately set your cap at him.  It is always the same with you.  You must be the one to have every man's attention!'

             
'Oh, Nan,' Arabella said, feeling shocked and hurt by her spiteful words.  'How could you think I would do such a thing?  Sir John insisted.  I told him I could not leave, but he would have it.'

             
'Only because you smiled at him so sweetly.'  Nan's mouth drooped sullenly at the corners.  'I saw you coming from the balcony with him.  I think you are selfish and…'

             
'I did not go out there with Sir John.  I merely wanted some air.'  Arabella felt a pang of guilt, remembering that she had encouraged Sir John a little, but only to make Harry jealous.  'You know I do not want to marry him.'

             
Nan's expression of spite and meanness had robbed her face of its prettiness.  Arabella saw her as she might be in a few years – a plain, bitter woman.

             
'I would not take him from you if he is the one you want,' she said and approached her sister with her hand outstretched.  'I care for you, Nan.  You must know that?'

             
'Well, you have a strange way of showing it,' Nan replied and moved away from her, not willing to accept her apology.  'Why can you not be content to have half the gentlemen in town after you?'

             
'There is only one I want,' Arabella said softly.  'I am in love, Nan – with Lord Sylvester.'

             
'You cannot be so foolish,' Nan answered waspishly.  'I heard only this evening that he is after some wealthy cit's daughter.'

             
'No, no, that is not true,' Arabella said, hurt by her sister's unkindness.  'He loves me.  I know he does.'

             
'He will never marry you,' Nan said.  'You would do better to save your smiles for Lord Roxbourne, Arabella.  He likes you very well.'

             
'You are mistaken.  He likes only to mock and lecture me.  I wish he would keep his advice and his opinions to himself.'

             
'You are a foolish child,' Nan replied, her mouth hard.  'You will find that no gentleman will marry you if it is believed you have become too intimate with Lord Sylvester.  You throw away your chances at your peril, sister.  You should try to find yourself a complacent husband before it is too late.'

             
Arabella did not reply.  Everyone warned her that she ought to be wary of Harry – but how could she ignore the feelings inside her?  She loved him, could think and dream only of him.  Sometimes, she almost wished that she had never met him.

             
'Go to bed, Nan,' she said.  'I am going down to the library.  I need to be alone…'

             
'I will have Sir John,' Nan said as she reached the door.  'You shall not have your own way this time.'

             
Arabella closed the door behind her, feeling a little sad.  She was hurt by Nan's accusations.  It was almost as though her sister hated her, as if she had been jealous of her for a long time.

'Sir John wishes to speak to you, Arabella,' Lady Mary had been reading a letter when the girl entered her boudoir two days after the ball.  'I imagine you can guess what he wishes to say to you?  He is calling here at two this afternoon.  You will receive him downstairs in the visitors' parlour.'

              'Must I see him, ma'am?  Could you not make some excuse?'

             
'Certainly not!'  Lady Mary frowned at her.  'I imagined you had made up your mind to take him when you permitted him to bring you home alone the other evening.'

             
'It was a mistake,' Arabella admitted.  'I did not realise quite how it would seem until too late.  Besides, Nan wants him – and I would not stand in her way for the world.'

             
'I thought Nan would do for him at the start,' Lady Mary said.  'However, I have since revised my opinion.  I think she is too sour to make him happy, despite her sweet smiles.  Your sister is sly and unkind, Arabella.  I shall not encourage a match between her and my friend.  No, you would suit him much better.  Do not be fooled by his appearance.  I dare say he is a little fatter than is good for him, but he is an insatiable lover.  He would keep you bedded for a month I expect, but by then you may be with child and can send him back to me.  You may rely on me to keep him with me until long after your child is weaned.  If you are lucky and give him a strong son he will leave you in peace much of the time.'

             
'I do not care for such a marriage, ma'am.'

             
'Then bring Roxbourne up to scratch,' Lady Mary said, her eyes glinting.  'If you defy me I shall finish with you, Arabella.  If you take neither Roxbourne nor Sir John, you may go and visit your great-aunt Rosalind, for I shall not keep you here.'

             
'Please do not be angry with me,' Arabella said, her head downcast.  'I must refuse Sir John for Nan's sake – but I shall do what I can to encourage Roxbourne.'

             
'You give me your word?'

             
'Yes, cousin.'

             
Arabella's fingers were crossed behind her back, and she kept her gaze fixed on a fine French gilt clock on the mantelpiece.  She had no intention of giving Lord Roxbourne so much as the time of day unless she was forced – but she needed more time.

             
'Very well.'  Lady Mary reached for a sweetmeat from a small silver dish at her side and popped it in her mouth.  'We shall have no more of this nonsense with Harry Sylvester.  I have told him he is not welcome here until you have left my house – and that will be either as a bride or to stay with Rosalind Hathaway in the country.'

             
Arabella made no reply.  Nothing on this earth would make her marry either Sir John or that detestable man Roxbourne.  If that meant she was destined to be banished to the country in disgrace then so be it.  She would send a message to Harry somehow and hope that he would follow her – unless he proposed marriage to her in the meantime…

Arabella was trembling inside as she faced her suitor that afternoon.  She had dreaded this interview, but she knew there was no escape for her.

             
'Miss Arabella…' Sir John began, but she spoke immediately to forestall him.

             
'Pray do not say anything just yet, sir,' she said holding up her hand as if to ward him off.  'I would share a secret with you.'

             
'A secret…' His eyes narrowed, gleaming intently.  'Pray continue…'

             
'I believe Nan is in love with you,' she said.  'And I would be glad to have you as my sister's husband, sir.  I know you to be a good and generous man, and I would see my sister happy.'

             
'Mistress Tucker is a delightful lady, of course, but…' He paused to clear his throat and Arabella began again before he could speak those fateful words.

             
'I-I am expecting a proposal from a man I care for at any moment,' she lied.  'He – he is a man of fortune and distinction, though I am not at liberty to mention his name for the moment.'

             
Sir John's expression hardened to anger.  'Lady Mary said nothing of this to me when I asked for permission to address you.'

             
'She – she may not yet be aware, but I have expectations, sir.'  She knew it was a bold lie and could turn back on her, but met his furious gaze bravely.  'Now, sir – was there something more you wished to say to me?'

             
'Is that your final answer?  I suppose I should thank you for speaking so plainly.' He did not look at all grateful.  'I shall waste no more time on you, mistress.  You have misled me…'

             
'I think not, sir.  I think you have misled yourself.'

             
'You are a wilful wench and will no doubt come to a sorry end.'  He glared at her as she raised her head proudly.  'If you have hopes of Roxbourne you should stay clear of Sylvester.  The marquis would not touch that rogue's leavings believe me!'

             
Arabella remained silent, though her cheeks were tinged with pink.  She fought her temper, not moving a finger as he took a hesitant step towards her, then stopped and turned on his heel, clearly deciding to take refuge in dignity.

             
'I bid you good day, mistress.'

             
Arabella sagged with relief as he went out.  Thank goodness she had spoken out!  It had been unpleasant enough as it was, but could have been so much worse if he had attempted to make love to her.  He was angry of course and would be even more so as time passed and there was no announcement of her forthcoming marriage.  She could only hope that her hints about Nan would take root and ease the blow to his pride.

'I heard an interesting rumour this afternoon…' Jack Meadows grinned at milord.  'You might have told me first, Gervase.'

             
'What rumour is this?'  Gervase looked up from the letter he had been reading.  'You intrigue me.  Pray do not keep me in the dark.'

             
'It is all over town…' Jack had come hotfoot to communicate the story.  'They tell me you are thinking of taking a bride?'

             
'Indeed?' Gervase's brows arched.  'And who have the gossips chosen this time?'

             
'You do not know?'  Jack slapped his own thigh and gave a bellow of laughter.  'I knew it was nonsense.  Everyone is talking of it, though.  You are supposed to be on the verge of proposing to Lady Mary Randall's cousin… Arabella Tucker.'  He ended on an air of mischief, waiting for the twist of disgust on milord's lips.

             
'Ah…' Gervase regarded him in silence for a moment.  'And who imparted this information to you?'

             
'It was Lady Eliza who mentioned it first but there have been others since,' Jack replied.  'She wanted to know if it was true.  I told her I doubted it.  The wench may be a beauty, but I cannot see you being caught in that particular trap, Gervase.'

             
'Did she happen to say where she heard this rumour?'

             
'I believe Sir John Fortescue told her it in confidence.  I told you everyone is whispering of it.  You will have to snub the girl in public to scotch it.'

             
'They may whisper to their hearts' content,' Gervase said and yawned.  'If you hear any more such tales ignore them, there's a good fellow.  These rumours grow tedious.'

             
Jack stared at him feeling puzzled.  Gervase was a close one!  He had neither admitted nor denied the rumour – but surely it could not be true?  Mistress Arabella Tucker was beautiful, but she was far from rivalling the sophisticated ladies that Gervase usually favoured with his attentions.  Yet there was something odd about this rumour, for Sir John was Lady Mary's protector and should be in a position to know the truth…

Jack decided that he would pay more attention to Miss Arabella Tucker next time he chanced to be in company with her.

Gervase frowned over his wine when his friend had at last departed, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  Where had the rumour come from?  Had Sir John read more into his causal remark that evening…or had Lady Mary begun it herself?

              He would not put such a thing beyond her.  She had already hinted more than once that Arabella would make a delightful wife for any gentleman.  Several times she had assured him that Arabella's mother came from good stock.

             
'She was Mountbank's youngest,' she had told him.  'We were friends.  A delightful lady.  Her family hoped for great things from her when she was first out, but she chose Sir Edmund.  He was far from a good catch for her, but she loved him.  Arabella takes after her mother.  If she once gave you her heart she would be a loyal and faithful wife.'

             
'Ah – but would her husband be as faithful?' Gervase had replied, a smile of derision on his lips.

             
Lady Mary had merely tapped him on the arm with her delicate, painted fan and said nothing, but there had been a determined gleam in her eyes that left Gervase in no doubt of her hopes.  She would see him wed to her cousin if she could manage it.

             
Gervase wondered at himself that he had not given her a severe setdown.  Neither had he done anything to scotch the rumour, of which he had been aware even before Jack had come to tell him the tale.  He was not sure why he had allowed it to continue when a lift of his brows would have been sufficient to kill it.