Marjorie Farrell (7 page)

Arden had guessed the proposal would soon be made, and was very happy for Celia. She entered into the plans wholeheartedly, and was happily planning the young couple’s visit to Stalbridge, when it became clear that Aunt Ellen was planning to live with the newlyweds after their honeymoon.

“You will be at Heronwood, then, Aunt Ellen?” she asked quietly, breaking into a conversation.

“Why, yes, Richard has kindly invited me. Not that I intend to interfere, of course,” she protested, “but it will be hard to let Celia go, so I will be happy to have a long visit with them.”

Ellen and Celia suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I understand that you will be going to your Aunt Millicent’s, Arden,” said Celia hesitantly.

“When hell freezes over I will,” said Arden furiously, and suddenly quit the room, leaving behind a stunned aunt and cousin.

“Well, this will certainly help James’s plan,” muttered Mrs. Denbeigh to herself.

“I beg your pardon, Mother, what plan?”

“Nothing, dear, nothing. Arden is bound to be upset. This is a big change in all our lives. Are you sure you want me with you, Celia?” asked Mrs. Denbeigh, wondering if she should return to Stalbridge with her niece after all.

“Yes, Mother,” replied Celia firmly. “You have been guardian and housekeeper for long enough. I am so happy that I can share my good fortune and happiness with you. After the Little Season and the holidays, we can discuss whether you wish to stay on in the Heronwood dower house or return to Stalbridge. But surely Arden could find another companion and stay in her own home?”

“James wants her settled before he leaves, and Millicent is the obvious choice after me.”

“But she is such an awful woman, Mother. I remember her visit years ago. It was the most unpleasant time I can remember. How will Arden stand her after you?”

“She will survive, I am sure. If we are lucky, perhaps this campaign will be the last and James will return for good. Now, my dear,” said her mother, changing the subject, “which do you prefer, the ivory silk or this pale pink
peau de soie
?”

* * * *

Arden was furious. Even Ellen knew of her father’s unforgivable plan and had accepted it, if not approved of it. And with her aunt caught up in her daughter’s marriage, what chance did she have to change her father’s mind, unless she found another companion or a husband.

I can’t believe he is playing the tyrant after all these years, she said to herself as she closed the door on her aunt and cousin happily choosing trousseau fabrics. She stood there a moment, paralyzed by her anger, and then decided that she had to get away: away from all this mother and daughter planning, away from reminders of the momentous change that was taking place in Celia’s and her life. She was not really dressed for walking, but she didn’t care if she wore out her slippers or grass-stained her muslin gown. She had to get out of the house immediately or she would start throwing things.

The butler began to protest as it became obvious she was leaving without an escort. “Let me at least get a footman to accompany you, my lady.”

“Never mind, Hoskins, never mind. I will have companion enough soon,” she muttered.

Because of her height, Arden’s stride was not ladylike. Today, with her unbound hair and forbidding expression, she looked like a Valkyrie going into battle. She received curious stares from street peddlers, horrified looks from young ladies out with their maids and a few admiring glances from the young bloods on their way to their clubs. She saw none of them. She was so oblivious to her surroundings, in fact, that she almost turned down St. James’s Street, an act which would have threatened her reputation far more than her witticisms had. Luckily, Gareth, who was on his way to his club, saw her in time. He quickened his pace and caught up with her just as she reached the corner.

“Lady Arden,” he said, gently grasping her arm, “surely you don’t mean to go down there?”

Arden was in such a haze of anger that she didn’t recognize Gareth immediately and started to order him to unhand her at once. As she realized who he was, she became aware of where she was. That it was Captain Richmond who had saved her from the humiliation of being gawked at by all the dandies and from the subsequent gossip only made her angrier.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Gareth was torn between anger and amusement. “I am on my way to my club. You, however, cannot offer the same excuse, my lady. Whatever are you thinking of, coming out like this without an abigail?”

“Like what?” challenged Arden.

“Well, you look charming, but are hardly dressed for a fashionable stroll. Not that you were strolling,” added Gareth with the grin that made her feel… She didn’t care how it made her feel. Right now, actually, it just made her feel more furious.

“I fail to see what business it is of yours, Captain Richmond.”

“I am a friend of your father,” Gareth reminded her. “I could hardly stand by and watch his daughter further damage her reputation.”

“My father be damned,” swore Arden, succeeding, to her great satisfaction, in shocking Gareth, who had hitherto seemed unshockable. “That surprises you, Captain, that I swear?”

“What surprises me, madam,” replied Gareth quietly, “is that you would do so at your father.”

“What do you know of my father and me, Captain Richmond?” she replied bitterly. “My father intends to return to his beloved battles and leave me with his sister.”

“Surely that is no different than he has done before, my lady?”

“Obviously, being a nobody from Yorkshire, you have never met or heard of my father’s sister. She is an unpleasant, arrogant old woman. I don’t understand how he can be so cruel and unfeeling. I am sure that Aunt Ellen would have been happy to come home with me, after a short visit to Celia at Heronwood.”

“Ah, Miss Denbeigh did receive an offer from Heronwood, then?”

“Yes, it is not officially announced yet, but I left Ellen and Celia happily planning the wedding.”

“So your cousin will be Lady Heronwood?” said Gareth quizzically.

“Oh, you needn’t look so, Captain. Celia apologized for my little verbal caricature, and one thing led to another. They have been very much together, as well you know, since you have been at every social occasion we have been at for the last week or so. Indeed, I am happy for her, though you look skeptical, and even, I suppose, for my aunt. I am just not happy about what this means for me.”

“Lady Arden, let us continue our conversation while we walk. We are attracting far too much attention.” Gareth offered his arm, which Arden at first refused, and then, with a sigh, accepted.

“I suppose you are right,” she said. “I would appreciate it if you could walk me home. I should be grateful for every minute there, given what is to be my fate.”

“So there is no alternative to your awful aunt?”

“None except marriage. And I swear to you, Captain Richmond, that at this moment I am mad enough to accept the first man who offered for me, even if it were you, just to spite my father!” said Arden.

“It is undoubtedly a shame, then, that no one is likely to make an offer, although I will keep your preference for me in mind.”

“You are as rude as always, Captain. You know perfectly well what I meant, and you choose to joke about my desperation. And I would truly have to be desperate,” she added, “to consider you.”

Gareth smiled to himself at the way Arden instantly responded to his provocation. She remained silent for the rest of their walk, however. When they reached the house, Gareth made a slight bow as she went up the steps, but Arden did not even turn to thank him for his rescue. He left, feeling the ever-present mix of anger and admiration that she raised in him. This time the anger was because of her dismissal of him as an eligible suitor even in jest, and the admiration for her magnificent hair and eyes. If I ever did marry the wretched woman, he thought, as he turned away, I could never be an indifferent husband, that is damnably certain!

* * * *

Arden went straight to her room and sat on her bed trying to sort out her reaction to the captain. The suggestion that she would even consider him as a husband was ridiculous, and made to show how desperate she was. After all, with the sparks that flew between them every time they met, they could hardly be considered friends, much less potential husband and wife. That he should insult her, however, by implying—no, stating—that she was unlikely to have the opportunity to spite her father was outside of enough. Yet she was nothing if not honest, and she had to admit to herself, if not to him, that he was right. This Season, at least, ridiculous as it may seem, she had ruined her chances. Not that she wanted any chance she had seen. But here she was, with Celia happily betrothed and herself with no chance of an offer.

But no gentleman would have pointed that out to her. And no gentleman would have made the jest about keeping her in mind if he decided he wanted a wife. But he was no gentleman, just a rough soldier from the Peninsula who was on his way home to run a sheep farm, of all things. Even Aunt Millicent was better than… Than what? she said aloud. Than a nonexistent offer from a man who clearly despises me. There was no alternative to her aunt, and Arden, who was not given to crying, fell back on her bed, angry, helpless and with tears slipping down her cheeks.

Gareth joined his aunt for an early dinner that evening. The marquess’s condition had deteriorated and the doctor was predicting he would not last another week. His aunt looked haggard, and he was worried about her.

“Will you let me return here tonight and relieve you, Aunt Kate?” he inquired. He had made this same offer over the last ten days and she had always refused.

She did so again. “Oh, Gareth, you are kind to ask, but I cannot sleep anyway, or leave his side in the evening or early morning hours. I promise you, I have been napping during the day. And I doze off for much of the evening, anyway.”

“I’ll come back here tonight, anyway, and keep you company. I have done little enough for you, in truth,” he added helplessly.

“Oh, no, you have been the bright spot in every day, my dear, entertaining me with the latest
on dits
. Come, tell me the latest about the notorious Arden.”

“Well, today I found her almost down St. James’s Street in a gown one might breakfast in, and without her abigail. She was in an absolute fury.”

“About what?”

“Evidently her cousin has just become betrothed to Lord Heronwood, and it has become clear to Lady Arden that Mrs. Denbeigh is now occupied by her own daughter’s needs. The lady’s fate is to be Millicent, or marriage. And I reminded her that since she was unlikely to receive an offer, it would be Millicent after all.”

“Gareth! You weren’t really that outrageous!”

“I was. But only after she informed me that she was mad enough to consider any offer, even mine.”

“I like her spirit,” declared his aunt.

“Even when she insults your beloved nephew,” protested Gareth with mock anguish.

“Will you offer for her?” asked the marchioness.

“To tell the truth, I still don’t know,” replied Gareth. “I had no real intention of it initially. I agreed to the earl’s request as a favor, and I have enjoyed my little sparring matches with the lady. And I must confess that I find the Lady Arden even more attractive than when I first met her,” he admitted grudgingly. “But attraction without affection makes for a poor marriage.”

“Do you dislike her, then?”

“I have only seen the side of her that earned her her title. Whether there is another side, I don’t know. And while I like intelligence and spirit in a woman, I fear she may be too much like her Aunt Millicent for me.”

“Have you met any other woman who attracts you as strongly?”

“I can’t say that I have, Aunt.”

“Well, Gareth, you are unlikely to meet anyone holed up in Yorkshire for the next few months. It will be lonely. And you will soon have the responsibility of Thorne added to it. An attractive, spirited woman like Arden could be a companion and helpmate.”

“Somehow I cannot see Lady Arden as a helpmate, Aunt,” laughed Gareth. “But why are you pushing me?”

“I don’t know, dear. I think because I have a strong feeling that Lady Arden needs someone like you. She most certainly doesn’t need her Aunt Millicent.”

“But do I need her?”

“Gareth, I cannot see you settling down with a conventional young miss. Would you have wanted Celia, for instance?”

“No, Aunt, although Miss Denbeigh is a kind, gentle and pretty young lady. Everything her cousin is not, as a matter-of-fact.”

“And believe me, my dear, a sweet girl as Miss Denbeigh seems to be would never survive Yorkshire and your family,” said his aunt.

“I suppose you are right. I have the greatest liking for Celia, but I cannot imagine her accompanying you on your trips into the slums or my mother on her business at the sheep market. At the very least,” he continued, “one can say that Arden would not have a fit of the vapors at either prospect.”

“And you are fond of the earl?”

“Yes, but I would not be marrying him, after all.”

“Well, I think that you should give it a little more consideration, Gareth. If things were not so awful here, I would ask Lady Arden for tea to see her for myself. Then I’d know if my intuition about her is correct.”

“You and your strong intuition, Aunt!”

“Don’t laugh at it, Nephew,” she said, smiling at his teasing. “I am very good at judging people and well you know it. I would not have survived my forays into Seven Dials if I were not. I can always tell which young women might be receptive to my pamphlets and which are too blue-ruined to care anymore.”

“I have seen you in action, Aunt Kate, and I must agree,” said Gareth, rising out of his chair. “I must change for the evening, but I will try to get back here fairly early tonight.”

“Now don’t cut your entertainment short on my account, Gareth,” protested the marchioness.

“Believe me, Aunt Kate, I find this social whirl far more exhausting than any forced march I’ve been on. I welcome an early evening.” Gareth pushed back his chair and laid down his napkin. Walking over to his aunt, he leaned down to kiss her. She reached up, and putting her hand on his cheek, said, “Thank you, dear, for coming back tonight.” As he left, his aunt continued softly, “For my other strong feeling is that your uncle will not last until morning.”