Secret Heiress (15 page)

When Giles was announced at the Chedworths', he fortunately found them both at home. Mrs. Chedworth jumped up and ran to him as he came into the room.

“Have you found Arabella?” she demanded. “What is all this about? Where is Arabella? Is there to be a scandal? I have received the oddest note from Caroline Chessington, whom I scarcely know. I demand to know what has happened!”

“Arabella is quite safe, ma'am,” said Giles. “And no, a scandal has been averted, thanks to Caroline Chessington.”

“I am certain I do not understand her involvement in all this,” said Mrs. Chedworth. “I should never have invited a female of whom I know nothing to Arabella's ball. I hold you responsible for that, Giles. Her racketing about the country and interfering in the lives of her betters is proof of her lack of respectability.”

“It would be wise if you did not criticize Miss Chessington,” said Giles. “She has saved you a great deal of unpleasantness and you are greatly in her debt. As for her respectability, her birth is quite as good as your own.”

“Indeed!” Mrs. Chedworth tittered. “How fortunate she is to have such a champion. Are we to wish you well?”

“Miss Chessington does not need a champion,” said Giles. “She is,” he added with a rueful smile, “quite capable of taking care of herself.”

“Come, Kendal,” said Mr. Chedworth, joining in the discussion. “Where is Arabella?”

“Arabella is with Miss Chessington in Woburn Square,” said Giles.

“Miss Chessington, Miss Chessington! I still do not understand how she comes to play such a role in this? And why did not Arabella return home with you? Until she does, we cannot tell Lord Warriner that all is well,” said Mrs. Chedworth. “It has become very difficult to explain to him Arabella's absence. He knows there is no indisposition and I believe he may suspect that she has, in fact, run away.”

“It is of Lord Warriner that I wish to speak,” said Giles. “Of Lord Warriner and Arabella. Arabella does not wish to marry Lord Warriner. In fact, she holds him in such aversion that I believe she should be released from her engagement. An engagement, I might add, which I believe to have been ill-advised. To affiance a young, inexperienced girl to such a—”

“You overstep the bounds, Kendal,” interrupted Mr. Chedworth angrily.

“Indeed, Giles,” said Mrs. Chedworth, “I believe we must be the best judges of such matters. Since you do not intend to offer for Arabella, it is not your concern if someone else has.”

“It is indeed my concern,” said Giles. “I have just spent a trying week pelting about the country in pursuit of Arabella—to prevent, I might add, the sort of scandal of which you are most afraid. I believe that gives me a direct interest in this matter. I have given Arabella my word that she will not have to marry Lord Warriner. It was only with that promise that she would agree to return.”

“Arabella will do as she is told,” said Mrs. Chedworth. “I have had quite enough.”

“If,” said Giles in measured tones, “you continue to insist that Arabella marry Lord Warriner, her distaste for the match will be made known. I do not think Lord Warriner should care for that, nor will it reflect well on you. If Arabella should go into a decline, you will bear Society's censure.”

“You cannot do that,” said Mrs. Chedworth. “You, the son of an old and dear friend! You cannot mean to do that!”

“I can and I will,” said Giles. “I am exceedingly tired of this entire episode. Were it not for your folly, it need not have occurred at all. Now I have a solution. Arabella has taken it into her head that she wishes to marry Jeremy Tarkington. His birth is unexceptionable and his prospects respectable; while he may fancy himself a poet, with proper direction, we need not despair of him. I urge you to permit him to pay his addresses. The romance may not stand the test of time, but if it does, it would be wise to allow the marriage. Arabella has run away once. This time there were no ill effects. You may not be as fortunate again.”

Mrs. Chedworth regarded her husband, who did not speak for several moments.

“I do not see that we have a choice,” he said finally. “A scandal will merely result in Arabella finding herself an outcast from Society. It would then be impossible to arrange any favorable alliance. We shall have to end the betrothal and trust in Lord Warriner's—and your—discretion. As to the poet . . .” He grimaced.

“If you wish your daughter's return,” said Giles, “if you hold her in affection—and I know you do—”

“We shall have to permit Tarkington entrée,” said Mrs. Chedworth. “It is not what I would like, but it is our only choice. Perhaps it will not last.”

“Splendid!” said Giles. “Then I shall tell Arabella that she may return home safely. In fact, I shall return to Woburn Square and see that she returns immediately. I must warn you, however, that she will not travel without Tarkington.”

“We shall have to welcome him sometime,” said Mr. Chedworth.

“You have made a wise decision,” said Giles. He took Mrs. Chedworth's hand. “I know you are not well pleased with me now, but I am certain it will be for the best.” With a bow, he was gone.

“I know that ruin stares us in the face,” said Mrs. Chedworth. “If only they had not interfered!”

“On the contrary,” said Mr. Chedworth. “Far from hastening our ruin, they may have saved us!”

When Giles returned to Woburn Square he found Arabella, alarmed by his prolonged absence, in a state that even Caroline's common-sense talk and Jeremy's devotion had been unable to avert. When she saw him she ran and threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Giles, have you seen them?” she cried. “What did they say? I know it is something terrible and Jeremy and I will be forced to flee.”

“Arabella, calm down,” said Giles firmly, extricating himself from her grasp. “It is past time that you ceased enacting these Cheltenham tragedies. You are too much in alt. Come, Tarkington, you will have to do better at dealing with Arabella if you are to persuade the Chedworths of your value!”

“Then there is a chance, Giles?” asked Arabella.

“Your parents have agreed to terminate your betrothal to Lord Warriner,” said Giles.

“Oh, Jeremy!” said Arabella, flinging herself this time into his arms.

“Then they have agreed with our point of view?” asked Caroline.

“They have agreed that forcing Arabella to marry against her will is unwise and, as they do love her, unfair.”

“And what of Jeremy?” asked Arabella. “Do they know that I mean to marry him?”

“They have agreed to permit him to pay his addresses. If the relationship lasts, they will countenance a betrothal.”

“But I consider myself betrothed to Jeremy now!” said Arabella.

“Surely you can wait a little while,” said Caroline.

“Jeremy and I do not wish to wait!” said Arabella. Everyone turned to Jeremy, who blushed.

“Have to wait,” he replied, looking at his beloved. “I don't come into my income until next year,” he explained, taking his new responsibilities seriously.

“A sensible plan,” said Caroline approvingly.

“Oh, Jeremy,” said Arabella, beginning to cry. “I'll wait for you. I'll wait for you forever.”

“I believe,” said Giles, “that this lamentable affair is finally at an end.”

When a tearful Arabella, accompanied by her Jeremy, was safely on her way to Berkeley Square, Giles and Caroline turned to each other. Without quite realizing it, they had gone through the last several days happy with the knowledge that they would see each other again. Now the adventure was over and there was no further reason to continue their acquaintance. Giles knew he should take his leave. He knew he should bid Miss Chessington goodbye, put Miss Chessington out of his mind, and direct his thoughts toward returning to Vienna. There was no reason to stay. Yet he stood, unwilling to go.

Caroline knew that she should indicate to Mr. Kendal that their acquaintance was at an end. She knew that she should graciously extend her hand, thank Mr. Kendal for his kindnesses during their journey, and see him to the door. Yet she, too, stood, unwilling to say a final good-bye.

At last she spoke.

“Mr. Kendal,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Yes, Miss Chessington?” he asked, taking it.

“I should be reluctant to part without thanking you for your kindness to me these last few difficult days.”

“I was pleased to be able to serve you,” said Giles.

“As you will be returning to Vienna, perhaps I shall not see you again. I should hate to part with ill feelings between us.”

“As should I,” said Giles. “It would be a most unfortunate circumstance.” They both smiled at the memory of those words, and then remained standing there a bit awkwardly. Again, Caroline broke the silence.

“Mr. Kendal,” she began again, “at Brampton I tried to explain why I came to London incognita. I should like to finish that explanation before you go.”

“My behavior in refusing to listen was quite childish and ill-mannered,” said Giles. “It was conduct not befitting a member of Lord Walsingham's staff!”

Caroline blushed as her words, too, were recalled.

“I told you that I came to London to see if there existed a man who could love me for myself and that I found instead Adrian Bradford. I did not know at first that he knew of my wealth. I did not know until shortly before I left London, when my man of business told me that Adrian Bradford had bribed a clerk to discover my identity. Imagine my humiliation! I had known, deep down, that he was insincere, but I wanted to believe that he loved me and, until the end, I had no reason to think he was deceiving me.”

“I did not know this,” said Giles slowly. “I can understand now how you could have wanted to believe that Bradford was genuine.”

“Yes,” said Caroline. “You cannot know how pleasant it was to hear the sweet words he spoke and to feel the warmth he showed. At first, after our initial meeting, I thought your interest was piqued, but then it seemed to wane. That is when I turned to Adrian Bradford.”

Giles smiled ruefully.

“The more you turned to Bradford—a man I despised—the more disturbed I became and the more I wanted to warn you away from him. I thought you incredibly stubborn and foolish to be so taken with such a scoundrel.”

“I did want to believe in him,” said Caroline. “So much so that my common sense was suspended.”

“Then my warnings to you were most unwelcome,” said Giles.

“More than unwelcome,” said Caroline. “You were merely confirming what I felt to be true and did not want to believe. And at the same time you seemed to be making a fool of yourself over a child just out of the schoolroom!”

“What the devil are you talking about?” demanded Giles.

“You seemed so charmed by Arabella. You had a kind of fatuous smile . . .”

“Have you lost your reason?” asked Giles. “Arabella?”

“Tell me that you were not infatuated with her,” said Caroline.

Giles took a deep breath. “I suppose I was for a time,” he admitted. “She was so young and innocent . . . but, my God, Caroline, I soon discovered she's a mere child! Artless, charming—for about an hour. I began to fear I'd said too much and might be forced to offer for her. Lucidly for me, her mama would have none of an earl's younger son.”

“And that's another thing,” interrupted Caroline. “You didn't tell me you were the son of an earl.”

“I guess I, too, just wished to be liked for myself,” he said. “I'd been ill, I was tired and worn out, and I didn't want still another female fawning over me.”

“What a terrible problem,” said Caroline. She laughed, and Giles did, too.

There was a pause in the conversation. Both seemed about to speak, but neither knew what to say. For the third time, Caroline broke the silence.

“I know we must say good-bye,” she said, “although I feel we still have much to say to each other.” She turned away and walked toward the window, fearing she had said too much.

Giles followed her and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her slowly around until she faced him.

“Why must we say good-bye?” he asked. “You are right, there is still much we have to say, much that I have wanted to say these many days, but each time I tried, we ended up at sword's-point. I have wanted to tell you how much I admire you; how I have felt drawn to you from the beginning. Do you recollect, at Arabella's come-out, when we were standing on the terrace? Then Bradford appeared and you went off to dance with him. I was so jealous, and I behaved so foolishly!”

“I could not imagine why you became so cold and distant,” said Caroline.

“I could not bear to see you beguiled by Adrian Bradford,” said Giles. “When I thought I had lost you to him I could not believe it. I realized then how much I cared for you. Oh, how I envied him! Caroline, say there is still time for me to say those sweet words that you desire to hear and that I long to say.”

“There is all the time in the world,” said Caroline breathlessly.

Giles drew her closer to him, his arms embracing her tightly. He looked down at her upturned face, her lips soft and inviting, and slowly his lips met hers, first gently and then more demandingly. Caroline's hands caressed him as she returned his kisses hungrily.

Later, when they were seated on the sofa, Giles said softly, “Now I can tell you how much I love you. And that I loved you before I knew you were a woman of wealth and substance, and thought you only a woman of charm and wit. Will you marry me, Caroline, even though I am the son of an earl?”

“But only the younger son,” Caroline reminded him as she moved closer into his arms.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1982 by Shelley Koppel and Lillian Koppel

ISBN 978-1-4976-3459-6

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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