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Authors: Lady Arden's Redemption

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BOOK: Marjorie Farrell
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“Why
have
you returned?” she asked.

Much as she was beginning to like this forthright sister of Gareth’s, Arden was not willing to confess her love on the hall bench. In fact, it became harder and harder for her to imagine confessing her love at all.

“I became very fond of…the countryside this summer. I found Stalbridge practically running itself, and so I thought that Gareth and I might try again to make our marriage successful. I came back with fantasies that he would welcome me, but now I am not so sure.”

Having guessed from his letters and their conversation that Gareth loved his wife, Kate was sure that he would be happy to see Arden, although he was unlikely to show it. She was very careful to be noncommittal in her reply. “Gareth is not the sort who bears a grudge, nor is he likely to have seen the separation as anything but an unpleasant necessity. I think he will be open to your return. I am sure you will be able to work out a way of being together that suits you both.”

Arden’s heart sank. What if Gareth
were
only willing to work out an “arrangement,” more friendly perhaps, but lacking in passion? She didn’t know if she could stand that. All she had to hold onto was the memory of their first meeting, the few moments they had touched, and his aunt’s words.

“Come,” said Kate, “I am sure Janie has set out the tea. Let me go and tell her that I am here and Mother soon to follow.”

Arden went back to the parlor. She had survived her meeting with Kate, and suspected that there was the potential there for friendship, but what on earth would her new mother-in-law be like?

 

Chapter 41

 

Just as she and Kate were settled by the fire, the door opened again and Arden could hear someone dropping shoes and stamping feet. A minute later, a tall woman, as tall as Arden herself, entered. She was dressed in an old brown kerseymere gown and her gray hair was pulled back in a bun. Her cheeks were red from the wind and she looked like a Yorkshire farm wife. At first Arden thought she was one, come to visit, but when Janie hurried in and said, “Here is another cup for you, my lady,” she realized this was Gareth’s mother.

“Whom have we here, Kate?” she asked bluntly.

“Mama, this is your new daughter-in-law, Lady Arden.” Arden started to rise and Lady Elizabeth met her, shook her hand, commented on her height and bade her, “Sit down, sit down. I thought you were in Sussex for a visit. This
is
a surprise. A happy one,” she added as an afterthought.

Arden thought it was lucky that none of the Richmonds seemed to have any social ambition. Their plain speaking and forthright manners were so different from the artificial politeness of the
ton
that she had a hard time keeping her face straight. “I was able to settle all of the estate problems quicker than I thought,” she replied, “and here I am, a bit earlier than expected.”

“Edward and Lynette will not be back for a week, so I will move out of my room. Otherwise you and Gareth would have to sleep separately, which, being newlyweds, I am sure you would not like.”

Arden was about to protest, but Lady Elizabeth just continued on. “You are a fine-looking woman, just as Gareth described you, my dear. And a courageous one, I hear. Old Gabriel Crabtree was as enthusiastic about you as I’ve seen him about anything. Which means,” said Lady Elizabeth with a smile, “that he said more than three sentences and almost smiled when he was telling me of your rescue.”

“How is Mr. Crabtree? When I left, he was still in Hawes with the doctor.”

“Oh, the old sinner is back in his hut. It was hard on Gareth not to have his help at market time, but now is a fairly slow time on the farm, so Gabriel can get his strength back before winter.”

The door opened a third time, and Arden, who was beginning to feel she was in the middle of a play, with all these dramatic entrances, although farce or tragedy she wasn’t sure, knew that this had to be Gareth.

“Ah, there you are, Mother,” he said as he entered, not taking in the third woman by the fire immediately. Arden forced herself to stand up and moved over to him, forestalling his exclamation of surprise by saying, “Gareth, my dear, I was just telling your mother that my business at Stalbridge was finished earlier than I thought, so here I am, before you looked for me.” As hard as it was to approach Gareth and take his arm as though it were natural, it would have been harder to have him reveal how much of a surprise it was to see her. After a second’s silence, he took the cue she had given him, tucked her arm under his and led her to her chair.

“I see you have already met my mother and sister.”

“Yes, we were just beginning to get acquainted.”

“I was just telling Arden that you will have the east bedroom again,” said his mother. “I’ll have Janie move my things before she leaves tonight.”

“There is no need to do that, Mother,” replied Gareth.

Arden’s heart sank. As uncomfortable as it would be to share a bedroom, when else would she have the privacy to talk to Gareth? Not that she had the least idea what she was going to say, she thought, feeling desperate.

“Nonsense. There is no other bed big enough for two people. Although your father and I did manage to squeeze into that bed in your room, Kate, whenever your aunt and uncle visited,” she continued with a smile.

“I remember, Mama, for I had to use the pallet in Lynette’s room or share her bed, and she
kicks
,” replied Kate.

“How is your aunt, Gareth?” asked Lady Elizabeth. “I do wish we could have been there for her, but to come all the way from Wales…well, it could not have been done.”

“She is as indomitable as ever. Arden and I visited Thorne on our way to Stalbridge,” said Gareth. “I invited her here for a visit, so you might be seeing her soon.”

“Good. She will need a change of scene. And when do you and Arden plan to settle in at Thorne? Not, my dears,” continued Lady Elizabeth quickly, “that I am trying to get rid of you. But now that I am home to see the farm, you are free, Gareth. Although, of course, we wish you to visit with us for a while.”

Arden, who had rarely had a fit of the giggles in all her life, was afraid she was about to succumb. Gareth’s mother’s conversation was a sort of thinking out loud, and she went from one topic to another freely, and was franker than anyone Arden was used to. It was hard to believe that she was the daughter of a marquess. Arden wondered if Millicent and Lady Elizabeth had ever attended a ball or rout together in their younger days. It would be wonderful to get them in the same room, she thought. She was recalled by Gareth from her fantasizing the encounter.

“Arden, I was just saying that I am sure you would like to change your dress and freshen up before dinner?” The look that accompanied Gareth’s question made it clear that he wanted a private conversation upstairs. As much as she dreaded it, surely the sooner they spoke, the better. So she smiled and nodded and said sweetly, “Thank you, Gareth. My bag is at the door. Perhaps you could carry it up for me?”

Arden’s docile tones were almost too much for Gareth’s composure, but he nodded their good-byes to his mother, who was looking knowingly at them, as if to say “Ah, newlyweds.”

* * * *

When they reached the east bedroom, Gareth closed the door behind them and stood there, arms folded, waiting for Arden, who was fussing with her bag, to face him.

“This is a totally unlooked-for pleasure, my lady,” he began, in tones that made it clear that it was no pleasure at all. “I thought we agreed that you would remain at Stalbridge. Why are you back in Yorkshire?”

What was there to say? That she finally realized she loved him, desperately and passionately? There was not an inch of him that didn’t look unwelcoming and why should he believe her anyway?

“I was able to take care of Stalbridge business quickly and realized that I had too much time on my hands. It is very…quiet there, now that Ellen and Celia are gone.” Arden had been about to say “lonely,” but was unwilling to seem vulnerable. “I began to think about our marriage.”

“Yes? And what about our marriage?”

“As you’ve said before, many other people have managed to make something of similar arrangements. I wondered if we might try again.”

“Why this change of mind? Thorne? You have the title, whether you live with me or no. Your own home is certainly more elegant and convenient to London.”

“I have come to like Yorkshire,” replied Arden. What other reasons could she dredge up to cover the real one? “And I realized that we have never had the disgrace of a separation in our family.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.

“Ah, the arrogant Lady Arden cannot stand the thought of gossip,” replied Gareth. “I might have known it was a matter of pride. Well, I will not force you back to Sussex against your will. You are my wife, whether we like it or not, and Thorne is big enough to accommodate both of us. And if you find yourself feeling bored or isolated, you can always spend the Season in London. In marriages like ours, as you know, even if we are not separated, there is still some freedom to find ah, alternatives, shall we say, to one’s husband.”

“How dare you suggest that I would consider adultery?” replied Arden furiously.

“It is what making the best of a convenient marriage most often means,” said Gareth, in his most insouciant tones to cover his surprise at her vehemence.

“Well, it is not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, Arden?” he asked, suddenly very serious.

“I suppose I thought if we made an honest attempt, we might discover that we could be friends.” Arden was almost whispering. She wanted to say, “truly man and wife,” but Gareth had left her no opening.

“Won’t this look odd to your family, now that you have announced the separation?” asked Gareth in softer tones.

“No one knows yet,” replied Arden. “I let people believe that you were busy at Thorne. I have not even written to my father.”

“Well, Kate is the only one who knows in my family, except for my aunt, and she will only be happy that you have returned.”

Both were silent for a moment and then Gareth said, “Perhaps we could make something of our marriage, after all. I am willing to work toward friendship if you are.”

“Thank you, Gareth,” whispered Arden. “And now I had better wash up for dinner.”

“Yes. Well. I will see you downstairs, then.” Gareth closed the door behind him, and walked down slowly, beginning to take in what Arden had said. And not said. On the one hand, she had seemed concerned about the disgrace of a separation. On the other hand, why had she not told her family? For that matter, why hadn’t he? It was something he had not wanted to put into writing. Maybe she had felt the same way? And she seemed truly insulted by his suggestion that they be free to seek other lovers. But was she ready to be a wife in more than name only? And would he still want her, if she were indifferent? Well, they would be sharing a bed tonight, so he would have the opportunity to find out.

 

Chapter 42

 

After dinner, Kate suggested a few hands of whist. Arden was most grateful, for while she wanted to put off bedtime as long as possible, she wasn’t looking forward to after-dinner conversation. Once she was caught up in the game, she relaxed and time went by very quickly.

“I am afraid that is the last hand for me,” Lady Elizabeth said. “I must be up early tomorrow, and my thoughts are wandering from trump to sheep.”

“And that is why you and Arden have trounced us?” teased Gareth. “You are still sharp, Mother.”

“I do usually beat them, you know,” she confided to Arden. “They may be younger and able to outwalk me and need less sleep, but I can still beat them at cards. I never did believe in letting children win, even when they were little.”

“We remember, Mama,” chided Kate good-humoredly. “We all had at least one tantrum a week over it too.”

“You are a hard woman, Mother,” said Gareth and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be down early to go over the accounts with you.”

“No, no, you and Arden must sleep in,” she protested. “There will be plenty of time to go over the books.”

Kate excused herself shortly after her mother, and Gareth and Arden were left by the fire.

Gareth busied himself by picking up the cards and the pennies they had used as stakes.

“I am feeling quite tired too, Gareth, after my long trip today. I will see you upstairs?”

“Yes. I will be up shortly,” he answered, not looking up as he heard her leave.

* * * *

He sat by the fire a few minutes, hoping that Arden would already be asleep by the time he got up there. He had no intention, he realized, of determining tonight whether her return meant she had changed her mind about the physical side of their marriage. There would be time enough in the next few weeks. And perhaps it would be better if they waited till Thorne anyway, where at least it would be their own bedroom.

He was relieved, therefore, to see that Arden was indeed in bed, lying on the edge as she had those first nights in Richmond House, and apparently asleep. He crawled in under the covers, facing her at first and willing himself not to move closer, not to let his hand stroke her hair, willing himself not to become aroused by the sound of her soft breathing, the black cloud of hair on the pillow and the familiar smell of her. He was able to keep himself from moving, but it was impossible to remain unaroused, and at the first stirring of desire, he gave a soft groan and turned over so that he would not have to see her, and at last, fell asleep.

* * * *

The next morning, Arden woke first and was horrified to realize that sometime in the night, the two of them had rolled closer to each other. When she opened her eyes, she saw Gareth’s face next to hers, and lay still, afraid she might wake him if she moved at all. She wanted to touch him: to run her thumb over his lips, to lose her fingers in his brown curls. She felt the same terror she had felt on the scree, but how could one be dizzy lying down? Nevertheless, it felt as if she were about to fall from a great height, and the fear almost overwhelmed her. Yet underneath the terror that froze her, something moved, shifted and melted. She lay there for a while, marveling at this new sensation of being warm and fluid.

BOOK: Marjorie Farrell
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