Marjorie Farrell (8 page)

Although Arden had not been convinced by her initial conversation with her father, Celia’s betrothal and Gareth’s comments had brought home to her the reality of her position. It
was true: she would not receive any offer this Season. Not that this was a tragedy, she hastily reassured herself. First, she had not met anyone she wished to marry. And second, many young women did not succeed in making a match their first Season. And third, she wasn’t that interested in marriage. She had liked her life at Stalbridge with Ellen and Celia. She had missed her father, but their female household had well-suited her. She knew that someday she would need to marry. There was no other choice for a woman. But why rush into a state that would in many ways curtail her freedom and bring an enforced intimacy with a man? Men were nothing special. They were tall and birdlike or squat and toad-like. She had met no one who could match her wit and her tongue. Well, perhaps Captain Richmond, but he was not so much witty as imperturbable. He had made an impression on her because he could not be impressed.

Arden was not unconscious of the fact that while she enjoyed wielding the power of her intelligence, she did not as much enjoy others giving in to it. Aunt Ellen and Celia had let her dominate them. And now, so had some of the gentlemen of the
ton
. She wanted, although she barely knew it, someone who could counter her intelligence with his own, who would not be cowed by her, whom she could not rule, the way she subtly ruled her cousin and aunt. She had enjoyed naming people, but there was something in her waiting for one of them to laugh and name her back, in jest and in all seriousness. She felt that she herself had become a caricature of a bird of prey, perched above all, just waiting to stoop and seize. She wasn’t waiting for a man to hood and jess her—oh, no. She wanted, although she could not have put it into words, someone who could meet her wildness with his own, and show her that one does not harm when it is unnecessary, and that all are vulnerable, even the wildest and proudest hawk.

Having decided that she was not going to receive an offer this Season, it made no sense to her to attend Lady Forsythe’s ball that night. She was tired of trying to pretend that her dance card was full and she did not want another encounter with Captain Richmond. This morning’s had been quite enough.

And so she came down the stairs that evening dressed for a night at home.

“Why, Arden,” said Mrs. Denbeigh, “did you not remember we are due at the Forsythes’ this evening?”

“I am tired and have had the headache this afternoon, Aunt Ellen. I have decided to stay home.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?” asked Celia.

“No, Celia,” replied Arden with genuine gratitude, knowing what a sacrifice that would be. She was sure Celia must be eager to see her fiancé and enjoy all the attention she would receive as the news circulated. “I would feel much worse if you gave up your evening.”

“We will miss you,” said Celia, “but you do look a bit pale. I would not want you to become really ill.”

“Your father was supposed to go with us, Arden,” said her aunt. “I suspect he was held up again. Would you tell him that we’ve already left?”

“Of course, Aunt Ellen.” Arden saw the two women off and realized that she really was tired. She picked up a novel that Celia had just taken out of the lending library and took it up to bed, leaving word with the butler that he should inform his lordship that the ladies expected to meet him at the Forsythes’.

* * * *

The earl arrived home more than an hour later, and after receiving the message from Hoskins, changed quickly, and left for the ball. When he arrived at the Forsythe home, he looked around for his sister-in-law to apologize. “I see Celia is surrounded by well-wishers, Ellen,” he observed. “I am very happy for her. But where is Arden?”

“Didn’t she give you our message, James?”

“No, Hoskins only said that the ladies had gone ahead. I assumed that meant all of you.”

“She was tired out from a headache. It was probably good for her to rest for one evening.”

“Hmmm. She is not given to headaches,” mused the earl. “Do you think she did not want to be outshone by her cousin?”

“Arden may be many things, James, but she is not one to be jealous of others’ happiness,” replied Mrs. Denbeigh. “Perhaps she is upset, however, by the contrast between her immediate future and Celia’s. Are you still set on sending her to Millicent’s?”

“Unless she receives and accepts an offer from Gareth Richmond, I am.”

* * * *

Gareth had noticed Arden’s absence immediately and had excused himself earlier than he had intended. He was surprised at his own reactions when Mrs. Denbeigh and Celia arrived. Everything around him, which had been clear and focused, became merely background noise as he found himself looking for the distinctive coronet of black hair. His disappointment was so strong that he found himself reexamining his feelings for Arden. If this was only an attraction, it was the strongest one he had ever experienced. Maybe his aunt was right. Maybe he should make her an offer. He found himself more open to the idea than at any time since the earl had suggested it.

When he returned home that night, he joined his aunt in her bedside vigil. Just as she had thought, the marquess died before morning, slipping away from them peacefully, and leaving them to comfort one another.

Gareth sent off a note to the earl, making him aware that he would be busy over the next few days helping his aunt arrange the funeral, and attempting to support her in her grief.

* * * *

Arden found herself looking for Gareth at the musicales and routs of the subsequent week and was surprised when she was disappointed not to find him. She told herself that she was just becoming used to their little skirmishes, but when he was announced one morning a week after the Forsythe ball, she found her heart beating a little faster than usual as she waited for him to be shown into the drawing room. She and Celia were working at their embroidery, something she was competent at but found boring. She stuck herself with her needle when she finally heard footsteps, only to see her Aunt Ellen’s face at the door.

“Captain Richmond is in the library with your father, Arden,” announced Mrs. Denbeigh.

Arden was puzzled by her aunt’s tone. Captain Richmond had spent more than one morning with her father discussing War Office business. And yet Ellen announced the visit as though it were something out of the ordinary. Celia, who had noticed Gareth’s attentions, stole a glance at her cousin, who was busy sucking her wounded finger. There was no sign that Arden expected that this morning visit was any different. In fact, Arden looked ready to hurl her embroidery hoop across the room.

Ellen and Celia exchanged amused, superior glances, and Mrs. Denbeigh sat next to her daughter and admired her progress.

“You may well praise Celia’s work, Aunt,” said Arden. “She has a genuine talent for design and color, as I do not. I merely copy, while she creates.”

“Yes, she always has had artistic ability, hasn’t she? It is too bad that crewelwork is not as appreciated as pastels and watercolors.” Mrs. Denbeigh picked up the latest copy of the
Morning Chronicle
, and proceeded to amuse the two cousins by reading aloud from the advertisement section.

* * * *

Gareth meanwhile was surprising both himself and the earl by making an offer for Arden.

“Are you quite sure you wish this, Gareth?” asked the earl.

“Why, it was your idea, my lord.”

“Oh, yes, and I still think it is a good one. But I would want to know if you and my daughter have some feeling for one another.”

“There certainly is strong feeling between us,” grinned Gareth. “She is not indifferent to me. I admit to feelings of attraction mixed with frustration. There are times when I wish to kiss your daughter and others when I wish to shake her out of her pride. But she moves me more than any woman I’ve known. And I do want a wife, and you a husband for your daughter. I cannot, of course, speak for Lady Arden,” continued Gareth, “but I do not think I am wrong in saying that there is an attraction on her side too. She may be unaware of it, however.”

“I suppose a mutual attraction, albeit acknowledged, is better than nothing. And I am sure that she will find no man better suited for her temperament, Gareth. Anyone who was head over heels for her she would make miserable. She has had far too much power over those who love her for too long. The tenderness that one sees between Celia and Heronwood would only act against you.”

Tenderness is something I would never associate with Arden, thought Gareth. And why am I choosing a woman so lacking in that quality? But it is too late for that question now.

“I think that we will suit each other very well in the long run, or else I would not be offering. Believe me, I am not martyring myself, my lord.”

“I should know you well enough by now to know that, Gareth. You are willing to take risks, but you do not make sacrifices. That makes you invaluable in the field and very welcome as a son-in-law,” said the earl, reaching out his hand to clasp Gareth’s. “Now let me get Arden in here.”

“Wait a minute, my lord.”

“Yes?”

“What if she refuses me? It is not only possible, but probable, given her reaction to me,” said Gareth humorously.

“I doubt she will, given that her Aunt Millicent is the only other option. And you can be sure that I will emphasize that.”

“And if she still says no?”

“Then, by God, I will order her to marry you.”

“Although it surprises me to hear myself say this, I think that is the way to handle that, my lord. It may not be the best way to begin a marriage, but it may likely be the only way in this case.”

“Do you think we are being too hard on her, Gareth?”

“Perhaps. But since she herself has destroyed her other chances, what choice has she got?”

“None.” The earl rang for Hoskins and asked him to summon Lady Arden to the library.

* * * *

When Hoskins arrived at the morning room door with the earl’s message, Ellen and Celia gave each other knowing looks, which were lost on Arden.

“I wonder what Father has to say to me this morning,” she muttered to herself as she walked down the hall. “I have not said anything even vaguely insulting for days.”

Her eyes opened in surprise when she saw Gareth. She had supposed him already gone, and her heart, which had resumed its normal rhythm, was now again beating a little faster.

The earl wasted no time on polite chitchat, but came straight to the point. “Captain Richmond is here this morning to make you an offer, my dear. I have given him my permission and hope you will accept. I will leave you two alone, so that Gareth can pay his address in private.”

Arden stood speechless, and her father was almost out the door before she found her voice. She was shaking with anger.

“There is no need to leave us alone. I already know what my answer to Captain Richmond is. A most emphatic no.”

“Will you not let me talk to you alone, my lady?” asked Gareth gently.

“There is nothing you can say that would change my mind. Your offer is insulting and ridiculous. There is no feeling between us, and you have, quite literally, nothing to offer me, Captain. I might as well be given to a beggar.”

Gareth flushed with anger. He was ready to reveal himself as the new Marquess of Thorne, but stopped just in time. He would not bring his late uncle into the conversation. The loss was too new and the grief too raw. He saw that the earl was about to speak, and put up a hand to stop him.

“My lady, I fear your choices are limited,” Gareth replied with irritating coolness. “I do not doubt that only a beggar would make you an offer, given your behavior this Season.”

Before Arden could open her mouth, the earl, angry himself at her arrogance, spoke to her in a tone he had never used before.

“Sit down, Daughter.”

Arden looked up into eyes which were hooded and cold. She moved over to the sofa and sat down, trembling with a combination of rage and something like fear at her father’s tone.

“Captain Richmond is correct. You are unlikely to receive any other offer this Season. I will not return to the Peninsula without you being settled and so I am informing you of my wishes in the matter. Had Captain Richmond not offered, I would, as I have said, send you to Millicent. But he has, which gives you perhaps your only chance at matrimony. And so you shall marry him, whether you will or not.”

“Why, that is positively Gothic,” gasped Arden.

“But perfectly legal, and not at all uncommon. As your father, I have the right to marry you to whomever I wish. You should count yourself lucky it wasn’t to some over-aged fortune hunter.”

“And what do you think Captain Richmond is, Father? He can hardly have persuaded you that he is in love with me.”

“Of course not.” Arden felt a quite irrational sinking sensation as she heard Gareth say this. “But there is a certain attraction between us, my dear, whether you are aware of it or not, that will serve just as well,” he continued.

Attraction? If that is what she felt in his presence, it was something she wanted nothing to do with, she thought.

“I am going to leave the two of you alone,” said the earl. “Perhaps you will reach some understanding together. Just remember, Arden, that you will marry him.” And on those words, the earl let himself out and closed the door behind him.

“Arden, I would not have chosen this as a way to make my proposal, but your father wished it settled…” started Gareth.

“I cannot believe you or understand you,” interrupted Arden. “Why would you want a wife who despises you for the rudesby that you are?”

Gareth ran his fingers through his curls and laughed. “Because I do not think that you only despise me. And because you need me.”

“Need you?” spat Arden.

“Need a husband, certainly, if you are not to turn into a copy of your Aunt Millicent. And since I am the only one who is offering, why not me?”

“
Why
you?” said Arden quietly.

“Because I have great affection for your father…”