Текст книги "An Accidental Affair"

Автор книги: Heather Boyd

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Merrick let himself into his home and immediately looked around for Arabella. When he heard and saw nothing but the usual household sounds and sights, he sighed. It was foolish to hope her nerves had relaxed sufficiently to make her feel safe in his home. She’d had quite a bad time of it last night.

“Has she come down yet?” he asked Holland as soon as he appeared.

“No, my lord.” Holland frowned, his glance rising to the ceiling. “She is up and moving around but will not allow anyone to see her. I fear the bruising must be quite bad.”

Merrick shared that fear. He’d worried for her welfare all day while he’d continued about his business as usual, as if he did not have an unexpected houseguest resting in his future wife’s bedchamber. There had better not be any lasting harm done to her appearance. Farnsworth had done enough to shake her confidence already and with the lies he was spreading about her flight into the night, he feared any disfiguration would break her confidence completely.

Merrick slapped Holland’s shoulder and then slid his hat and gloves onto the hall table. “I’m sure she will come down in due time. However, I’ll look in on her directly to see if she needs anything.”

“She should not be here,” Holland said quietly, for his ears alone. “We should have let her catch her breath and then taken her to your aunt this morning.”

Merrick did not need Holland to voice the doubts that had already invaded his mind. He’d spent the morning roundly chastising himself for selfishness on his part for wanting Arabella to stay where he could keep an eye on her. The cost to her reputation could be severe, but he felt better knowing she was truly beyond Farnsworth’s reach. “My aunt would have questioned her. You saw her last night and her behavior this morning. She wasn’t ready to face any of that.”

“And now?”

“And now I do not know, but I will ask what she wishes to do. If she wishes to remain or will not see me, then she may stay exactly where she is. If she wishes to leave, then I will see that it’s accomplished in a way to avoid discovery and spare her reputation any stain. Is her presence any great hardship for the household?”

Holland shook his head quickly. “No, my lord. It’s just that I’d thought of her reputation, too. The gossip could be quite vicious if she is found out. There has never been a hint of impropriety attached to Lady Farnsworth before and we have no female servants to attend her or female family in residence.”

That was a problem. He scratched his whiskered jaw, wondering if he should shave off the new growth before he saw her. He was eager to see her now and did not want to wait another moment. “It cannot be helped. We’ve run the house without for so long that if I employ a female servant now to attend her, it could draw unwanted attention. I trust everyone to hold their tongues, but a new face in their ranks could reveal Arabella’s location before she is ready to face anyone.”

“She will have to come out eventually, or let us in,” Holland said. “The water from her morning bath is still within her bedchamber. It is unhealthy to let it remain there for much longer. If you could persuade her to retire to another room, perhaps we could attend it and anything else she needs.”

Merrick glanced up the stairs. Holland had come up with the flimsiest of excuses to get through the door, but he would take it gladly just to know how badly Arabella was suffering. “Very well. I will go see her now before I change to go out for dinner.”

“Do you think it’s wise to carry on as usual, given you have a woman sheltering under your roof?”

He’d questioned his actions all day, yet whatever happened with Arabella, he still wanted a wife. Quitting the field now might mean he’d have to start over again. “Going out as usual offers an advantage in drawing attention away from the house. Arabella may have come to me in her time of need, but to assume anything more would be presumptuous.”

Holland frowned. “I suppose it would be.”

When Holland hurried off into the depths of the house, Merrick headed upstairs. He straightened his waistcoat and coat and smoothed his hair before he tapped lightly on Arabella’s door and waited.

“Who is it?” Her voice was a soft whisper through the door. The shy, cautious question tore his heart.

“It’s Rothwell. May I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”

“Ah, I don’t think so,” she said quickly. The door handle rattled as if to prevent the door from being opened without her permission. “I’d rather you not let anyone see me like this.”

“It’s just me. No one else has to come in.” He eased closer to the door and laid his head upon the wood. He would never force her to do anything she didn’t want. “Arabella,” he said softly. “Please.”

There was a long pause and then the door he leaned his head against fell open. Arabella stood opposite him against the wall, her eyes wide. He stepped inside and she gave ground. Her injury was nowhere near as bad as he thought it would be. The swelling to her cheek had lessened quite a bit. In a few days, there would be no trace of Farnsworth’s hands upon her face. He smiled in relief and lifted a hand to brush her loose, pale hair back from her neck. The finger marks were distinct but would fade in time too.

“I was worried.”

Her brow creased and she hurried to cover her abused skin again with her hair. “I look terrible.”

“You look better than my imagination supplied. Thank you for letting me see you.” He glanced around the room while he nudged the door shut with his foot so no one passing could peek in. “Do you have everything you need?”

The simple gown and accessories he’d begged the loan of from Lottie Townsend clung to her curves in all the right places. The only thing he hadn’t accomplished was acquiring right-sized footwear to replace her evening slippers. As she fidgeted in place, her stocking-covered toes peeked out from beneath her gown.

“Yes. I can never repay you for your kindness.”

“It’s an honor to be of assistance. Think nothing of it.” He glanced around the room one more time, noticing the differences from the morning. During the day, Arabella had kept busy by rearranging a few items. A chair had been moved closer to the window. The writing desk was angled differently to catch the light. He didn’t mind the changes. If such activity kept her occupied and distracted from her troubles, she could rearrange his entire house to her heart’s content. “Holland would like the servants to clear the room of the bathwater and perform other tasks. He wanted me to ask if you minded stepping into another room for a short time.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m an inconvenience.”

“Not at all.” He lifted her chin gently and smiled to reassure her. “Holland likes to fuss. Leaving anything unfinished is beyond him, but I think he’d rather not upset you by coming to your door again.”

“I am sorry for my earlier churlish behavior.” Her smile was hesitant and unhappy. “Very well. As long as no one sees me. Lead the way, my lord.”

Merrick stepped back into the hall, checked that no servants lingered nearby to startle her, and then gestured for Arabella to come with him. He lived alone and most rooms in the house were closed up, so he opened the doorway to the only acceptable quarters and allowed her to pass. “I’ll return for you when they are done and gone away again.”

She stopped three paces into the room and looked about curiously. “Whose room is this?”

“Ah, this would be mine. You should be comfortable here for a little while.” Merrick turned away before she could protest that being in his bedchamber was highly inappropriate. However, the other rooms would be dusty and provide little comfort. Leaving her there was the sensible thing to do.

As he closed the door, he heard her mutter, “Oh, the injustice of this.”

Although puzzled by her words, he called for Holland and waited in the hall. The servants trooped back and forth, Holland hurrying everyone along as quickly as he could. Holland nodded when he was done and disappeared downstairs again. When the house was quiet once more, he returned his bedchamber and knocked on the door.

As before, Arabella faced him through the opening. “You grow orchids?”

He smiled quickly. “I dabble.”

“So do I.”

He nodded. “I know. Grayling mentioned that you and his late wife would spend hours in the conservatory he had built at his estate.”

She opened the door fully and with a quick, furtive glance at the empty hallway beyond stepped toward him. “Why did you not tell me? We could have spoken about propagation and such.”

“When? We’ve only ever spoken briefly before now.”

“That is true. I cannot imagine why.” When she strolled out into the hall, there was a book in her hands. She lifted it, a small guilty smile crossing her face. “I’ve not read this one. May I borrow it to read this evening?”

He nodded and gestured for her to walk beside him. The urge to curl his arm around her back and draw her close against his side grew to an impossible ache. He clenched his hands behind his back instead of reaching for her. “Yes, of course. I finished it last night, actually, so you may have it for as long as you like. There are many more in my study downstairs, too. You’re welcome to borrow what you like while I am out tonight.”

Her frown returned. “You’re going out again?”

Was that disappointment or disapproval? He nodded. “I have an invitation I cannot decline at this late an hour, and I thought crying off might draw unwanted attention. Holland will be home all night should you need anything at all.”

She sighed, then cast an impish smile in his direction. “You are very fortunate in your choice of butler. It’s a wonder someone hasn’t tried to steal him for themselves.”

He smiled at her mistake. “Holland acts in my stead in many things, but Jenkins is actually the butler, though he’s away at present. I don’t believe there’s a high enough offer that would convince either one to leave my employ, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

She reached her doorway and paused. “When I am better, we have much to discuss, sir. You have been keeping secrets from me. I dislike secrets between friends.”

He studied her face, noting that the light in her eyes had returned, and leaned against the wall as close to her as he dared. “Are we friends now?”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a gentle smile that had his body reacting before he could prevent it. “We surely must be.”

Then she was gone, disappearing inside her bedchamber without another word or an invitation to follow. Merrick paused a long moment and then turned for his bedchamber, aware that while he was disappointed to part company with Arabella so soon, he was grinning like an idiot. Arabella liked him enough to call him a friend. That made any inconvenience her presence caused worthwhile, at least on his part. He could get to like being gently admonished by her, but he would still keep his secrets.

Now that Arabella had been dealt with, he had a dinner to prepare for. While he dressed, he practiced the things he might say to Lady Mary Crawford at dinner. He could ask her about her season. He could ask her if she liked the country. He could ask her if she knew about his past and his father too, and if so consider overlooking it. He shook his head. Didn’t women claim that reformed rakes made the best husbands? To do that required they rise to the challenge and give a man a chance. He could certainly make the attempt to prove his sincerity if the lady was more open-minded than most.

Holland nodded his approval as he stepped through the front door and into his carriage. The journey to Lord Crawford’s residence was not far, and he had little time to catch his breath. He pushed Arabella’s situation from his mind for a little while. Holland would take care of her and refuse Farnsworth admittance should he knock on the door.

That left him free to pursue his own agenda. Lord and Lady Crawford would be gracious hosts, their daughter full of energy and chatter. He put on his best face and stepped out of the carriage, determined to make the right impression.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Arabella closed the book as she reached the last page and laid it aside. She’d been Rothwell’s guest for three days, and the marks on her face and neck were finally reduced to faint smudges. In the course of her recovery, Arabella had discovered herself as vain as the next woman. She’d feared permanent harm and men’s reactions to her loss of beauty. Rothwell’s reassurances had gone a long way to helping her adjust. If not for his gentle kindness, she’d still be hiding in her bed.

The clock downstairs struck four o’clock and chimed out the close of another day. She stood and brushed off the skirts of another day dress that had appeared without explanation as to its origins. One day she would make Rothwell answer her questions and she would find some way to repay him for his generosity.

Now in need of a new book to while away the afternoon, she ventured out into the hallway with a plan to surreptitiously explore the rest of Rothwell’s home. The floor she’d spent the last few days on contained only bedchambers, dressing rooms, and a few closets containing bedding. Most were neglected, which fit with what Arabella knew of Rothwell. He didn’t have family save the Fords, and his tendency to avoid them made his home little visited. The lower floors were mostly a mystery.

When she reached the top of the stairs and started down, she was surprised at seeing Rothwell rushing up them toward her. He barely saw her before they would have collided. She jumped aside, only to run into him when he swerved too.

“My apologies,” he said quickly, his breathing rushed, his riding coat half off, and his cravat dangling from his fingers.

Arabella dragged her eyes from the patch of chest exposed by his undressing. “None needed,” she reassured him, fighting the blush threatening to give away her feelings. “I am sorry to be in your way.”

“I was on my way to see you, actually. But I’d wanted to change first.” He grinned and lifted his arm to his nose. “I fear I smell of the stables. I’m just back from Tattersall’s with one of my men and a new horse. I was on my way to change just now.”

She swept her gaze over him and liked what she saw. Even though he appeared slightly rough around the edges, the air of vitality brought about by exercise and likely excitement over the purchase suited him well. “I see that.”

A throat cleared nearby and when Arabella peeked around Rothwell’s broad shoulders, she found Holland waiting on a lower stair.

Rothwell grinned again. “Where will you be in twenty minutes?”

“Downstairs, if that is all right with you.” She waved the book in her hand. “I need a new book.”

“Perfect. By all means, help yourself to anything you like. I’ll join you shortly if you’d enjoy company.”

She nodded quickly. It had been a long, slow day with only her own company for amusement. Rothwell’s eyes glowed with pleasure and he leaned just a little closer—just enough that the scent of horses did reach her. She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose.

He eased back quickly. “Do excuse me.”

He passed her by quickly without another word, leaving Arabella standing with only Holland for company. The older man nodded to her, his gaze speculative, and then followed Rothwell at a more sedate pace to his bedchamber.

When the door shut with a solid thud, Arabella hurried down the remaining stairs. The more time she spent with Rothwell, the more she wilted beneath those smoldering eyes, which caused her no end of blushes.

As she’d noticed before, the household was a quiet one, but there were masculine voices coming from parts of the house sure to be servant’s quarters. She paused to listen. In the days she’d been here, there had been few whispered conversations to be overheard. Rothwell’s servants were quick and efficient and, to her surprise, rather happy in his service. As she thought about that, she discovered a surprising fact. She’d only ever heard male voices in the town house. There might be no other women beneath this roof aside from herself.

As she remembered from her arrival, a door to the right led to a drawing room where she’d warmed herself by the fire. That room had not contained any books that she remembered seeing, so she turned beneath the staircase and made her way to the rear of the house. There was a closed door at the end of the short hall and she leaned her ear to the door. After listening a long while and hearing nothing, Arabella released the latch and let herself in.

She smiled at what she found—an empty room but for the books behind glass doors and dozens of rare orchids littering every other space. Rothwell had said he dabbled, but this was so much more than dabbling. He truly had a green thumb.

She inspected each plant gently, smiling at the variations he’d chosen to cultivate. So very pretty and not at all the type of plant she’d expected a man like Rothwell to have. She shook her head. The man was a walking contradiction. Wicked in public, proper in private. At no time had she thought he might fall on her in a passion.

She turned next for the nearest bookcase and tugged at the door. Locked. She glanced around uncertainly. No sign of a key anywhere. Rothwell had said she might read anything she liked in his collection. He’d never mentioned needing a key to get to them though.

She eyed the desk as doubt filled her. Should she disturb him or attempt to find the key herself? It was not on the desktop or around on any other surface. That left inside his desk to investigate, although she was not sure he’d meant her to do so. Arabella bit her lip as she slid open a shallow upper drawer. A folded note lay on top of a stack of papers, but she could just make out the edge of a metal key hiding beneath. Arabella lifted the note and claimed the key quickly, casting a nervous glance at the door.

Snooping through Rothwell’s papers hadn’t been part of her plan. She was just about to close the drawer when curiosity got the better of her. She flicked the large note open and then stared in shock. Rothwell had a special license to marry, though the bride’s name had not been filled out.

The paper tumbled from her numb fingers. Good grief, when would she learn to mind her own business and ask permission first? The discovery answered her questions and raised yet more still. Rothwell was always going in and out in a rush, but given her recent isolation, she had no idea who he was planning to marry. She’d never suspected he had formed an attachment to anyone in London. Which meant her presence in his home was indeed an imposition.

“Ah, good. You found the key?”

Arabella looked up, sure that guilt was writ large on her face. Instead of a scowl, Rothwell stood at the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, smiling in a way that immediately set her heart racing. Instead of angry, he looked quite delicious. Maybe he hadn’t seen her reading his private papers. She hoped not. It would make her seem an ungrateful wretch, given his current generosity. She quickly nudged the drawer closed and moved away from the desk. “Yes, just this moment.”

She glanced at him and then paused as she took stock of his appearance: neatly pressed, boots gleaming, gloves and top hat in hand. He was devastatingly handsome in a finely tailored navy-blue coat and embroidered waistcoat. Her awareness of his appeal multiplied. “Are you going out?”

His finger dug beneath his cravat to loosen the starched material as if he wished to be rid of it entirely. “To the park in an hour to meet with an acquaintance.”

Was he courting a woman she knew? “You look very fine.”

“Thank you.” He leaned against the bookcase, a grin twisting his lips. His gaze roved over her body and caused a tremble in her legs. “You too look quite lovely, in fact.”

“Thank you.” A blush warmed her cheeks and she turned to the bookcase to unlock the door, willing her hands to cease their fumbling. She stared at the volumes before her, not really seeing them. Her mind raced at the notion that Rothwell was hunting a bride. The idea of him marrying had never occurred to her, although at his age he would have considered the necessity of taking a wife to acquire an heir long before this.

At that moment, Holland joined them, apologized for interrupting, and then crossed the room to check if the spirit decanters on a far table needed refilling.

“I’m glad to see you making yourself at home.” He pointed to the man across the room and smiled. “Holland’s been fretting again about your lack of company. Anyone would think he’s your father the way he’s been carrying on, and I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Do you have any family left? I’ve never heard mention of anyone from you or from Grayling in the past years.”

Arabella winced. “My parents died a year after I married. My mother first, and then my father very soon after, as if he couldn’t go on without her. The loss of them broke my heart because they were my whole world too. They were older when they had me, you see, but had married quite young and were never far apart. Any cousins or aunts I might have had are unknown to me. All we had was each other and our neighbors, but that was enough for them.”

“I’m so sorry.” Rothwell’s gaze softened and he reached out to squeeze her hand.

Rather than feel uncomfortable relating the impact of the loss that felt as fresh today as all those years ago, Arabella felt better. She hadn’t spoken of them in a very long time.

Rothwell turned away suddenly. “If only that were the case for me. I find it nearly impossible to escape my family.”

Holland’s head snapped around to stare at them. His cheeks grew red as he checked the time on his pocket watch. “Time’s passing, my lord.”

“Yes. Yes.” Rothwell shooed him out. “I’ll be there soon. Jimmy can just wait a few minutes longer.”

Holland bowed to Arabella and hurried out.

Rothwell merely smiled. “Since you are downstairs at last, may I ask if you have made any plans for the evening ahead?”

Arabella bit her lip. What would any lady Rothwell was courting think if she discovered Arabella had lived beneath Rothwell’s roof these past days? If it were Arabella being courted, she’d be utterly humiliated by the discovery.

Sure she’d overstayed her welcome and was about to be asked to leave, she shook her head. “I hadn’t made any as yet.”

He smiled and set his hands behind his back. “Well, I have an invitation to offer you. Join me for dinner. You’ve eaten in your bedchamber every night since you’ve come, and you must be utterly bored with your surroundings.”

She should say no and make immediate plans to be on her way, except she’d managed to push her decision from her mind time and again. She’d placed Rothwell in an awkward situation. “I don’t mind my own company.”

“As you wish.” He relaxed and eased away a step. “I thought you might have enjoyed furthering our acquaintance, but I will leave you to your own devices instead.”

As she realized she’d snubbed his company quite thoroughly and offended him in turn, she panicked and grabbed his arm. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. That didn’t come out the way I planned. I just mean that I don’t mind being alone. I wasn’t in the best of moods these past days to be good company for anyone.”

Beneath her hand, a muscled arm, warm and solid, twisted. “Then you’ll dine with me?”

Arabella released him and nodded. One last night alone in his home and she’d find another situation for herself tomorrow. “I would enjoy that.”

“Excellent.” Rothwell passed behind her and moved to his desk.

Arabella sighed softly. She would be sad to leave him. However, the next moment her breath seized as Rothwell bent to pick up a paper lying on the floor. The special license. As his lips pursed, Arabella spun about, attempting to focus on the books before her rather than the man with the plan to marry. She hoped he didn’t ask her about disturbing his desk. Dropping it had been purely an accident, but not the fact that she’d read it and knew what it was. She pulled the first book her hand touched from the shelf and opened it, pretending to be considering the volume.

The drawer scraped open slowly and shut again with a soft click. “I’ll see you for dinner at eight, yes?”

Arabella swallowed nervously. “Yes, eight o’clock would suit me very well.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder and saw him smile in return. He moved closer, fitting his hat to his head, pulling his gloves into place. His dark eyes searched hers. “Until then, my lady.”

His hand brushed her back softly, just across her shoulder blades, and her pulse raced beyond her power to control it. She bit her lip, saw his eyes follow the nervous gesture, and quickly released it to clear her throat. “Until you return.”

His mouth quirked into a sensual smile just before he headed to the door. When he was gone from the house, when all was silent again, Arabella snatched up two volumes at random and practically ran the whole way back to her bedchamber so she could blush to her heart’s content in private. She didn’t know the first thing about seduction, but from that one scorching kiss days ago and the brief touch just now, she was sure she wanted Rothwell to be her first lover.