Текст книги "An Accidental Affair"
Автор книги: Heather Boyd
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Merrick tooled his phaeton through Hyde Park in a glum mood and considered his behavior of late. At his side, Lady Mary Crawford chattered nonstop, smelled of lilac, and mentioned at least a dozen times how much she admired his aunt, as if that were any incentive to call on her again.
Mention of Aunt Pen had the opposite effect, in fact. He didn’t need his aunt to loom large in his intended’s life. He wanted to marry a woman who didn’t need to please everyone she met, and most especially didn’t mind not having closer ties to his mother’s family.
But the truth was that the existence of that damned special license had soured his mood for courtship. He was certain Arabella had seen it. In truth, he’d felt somewhat embarrassed at having one. Would she be sitting in his home wondering about it? Speculating on whom he was with in the park with today? Who he’d been calling on at other times? So far he’d deflected her inquiries on his return from similar outings, but if he intended to marry by special license, there was a time limit to her stay. She would have to go before he could propose to anyone.
And he was quickly coming to the conclusion that he did not want her to go at all.
He nodded to acquaintances gracing the park for the fashionable hour, but his mind was firmly on deciding the fastest way to return Lady Mary to her parents. Looking down to talk to a woman, even while sitting, made him feel he was conversing with a child. The truth was, he’d grown used to speaking with Arabella. Sitting or standing, her height placed her almost eye to eye with him in every situation. Today he’d seen a glimmer of the woman he’d known before Farnsworth had abused her. Her confidence was returning, along with her blushes. And yet he still could not decide whether they were silent invitations or not.
At his side, Lady Mary fluffed out her gown like a bird feathering its nest. “Do you spend much time in the country, my lord?”
“Not really. London mostly or Needham Hollow and Wiltshire, visiting with friends.”
Her face creased with confusion. “Not Essex? Surely you are at Newberry Park with your cousins most often.”
He glanced at the young woman at his side and shuddered. “Good Lord, no. I’d rather spend a night in Marshalsea Debtors Prison than voluntarily visit my grandfather’s estates. I spend as little of my time as possible with them.”
“Oh,” Lady Mary said at last, a frown growing on her face. “I had not known that. What about your cousin’s wedding? It will be the talk of the season.”
“I’m sure the event will be a success without me. I make no apologies for the estrangement.” He smiled at her. “They like to meddle and I do not appreciate it.”
Lady Mary faced forward, her brow furrowing. “I spend much time with my family, so I always thought you’d be at the wedding.”
“I enjoy the peace without that sort of thing.”
“I see.”
At last the chit fell silent, her attention fixed on her gloves. Was she thinking as he did now? They would not suit. Not at all. She would want and miss her family, inflicting them on him when he craved peace and quiet. He would have to reconsider his choice of bride. He might have to reconsider quite a lot.
It was a sad fact that he compared each woman he met to Arabella. Their height, their manners, their interest in the natural world. Each time he’d discovered a similarity that gave him hope, he’d also found fault. Was there not one woman in London to come close to Lady Farnsworth in accomplishments? He was starting to believe he’d set himself an impossible goal. If there was no one like Arabella, then perhaps he should ask her to marry him instead.
However, she’d made it quite plain that she wasn’t keen to marry and nothing in the past few days of conversation had hinted at a change of heart. But perhaps her distaste for it was largely due to the arranged match with Lord Parker and the way she’d been given little choice. She might react very differently should he propose, but he might wait until he was confident his proposal wouldn’t send her running for the street.
Could she overlook his debauched past, accept the secrets he could not turn aside from, and consider another marriage? From what he had learned of her first, she had not liked being married. There was the possibility he would fail and be disappointed, but there was also an equal chance that he might succeed.
He deposited Lady Mary at her door and cheerily waved good-bye, fully intending to never see her again as a would-be bride. He would return home and dine with Arabella and see if she might be interested in more than simple friendship.
The instant he stepped inside the door, he knew something was terribly wrong. Holland wore the expression he adopted when faced with being the bearer of bad news. Merrick braced himself. “What?”
“Lady Penelope Ford is waiting to see you.”
Merrick glanced left and right and then finally up to the ceiling. “Blast.”
“She hasn’t said anything,” Holland whispered. “I placed her in the parlor while she waited your return.”
“Thank you, Holland.” Merrick handed off his hat and gloves and strode into the room. He decided not to mince words today. Aunt Pen rarely made surprise visits to his home, and this was the worst possible time for one. “What do you want?”
His aunt paused with her teacup to her lips. “You’re in a mood, so I will come straight to the point. I’ve come to question you about Lady Farnsworth and her niece, Lady Cecily.”
As he’d suspected, his aunt’s arrival signaled trouble. “What about them?”
Aunt Pen leaned forward, her brow furrowing with deep lines of concern. “Lady Farnsworth and Lady Cecily have not been seen for some time. Lord Farnsworth tells quite a tale, that she ran away in terror of a horde of brigands.”
Merrick frowned at the growth of Farnsworth’s lie. Fairly soon it would be apparent to even a fool that nothing of the sort had happened. He had to tread carefully. It seemed possible that Aunt Pen knew nothing of Cecily’s elopement with Laurence, but the woman was a master at intrigue and could lie better than anyone he knew to serve her own purpose. “Something about midnight abductions and thievery.” He shrugged. “I saw Farnsworth at Mr. Milne’s just yesterday. I’m sure it’s all nonsense.”
“Milne, you say.” Her lips lifted in approval. “His daughter is lovely.”
Blast. Aunt Pen approved of Miss Milne. That had not been part of his plans but her support didn’t matter as his interest was with Arabella now. He shrugged and didn’t comment.
Aunt Pen smiled again, but Merrick still did not trust her one bit. She studied him carefully, then said, “So, you think they have not been abducted and likely ravished in some den of inequity?”
“I am sure Lady Farnsworth is snugly settled with friends somewhere.” He pretended to think about where she might be for a moment and moved into the room. He stopped behind a chair, a little barrier between them for his peace of mind. “What has Grayling to say? I’m sure if she’s anywhere, she would be there.”
His aunt peered at him. “Because you purchased her home from beneath her feet and she cannot possibly return to it?”
He smiled tightly, hating that his every word and deed eventually fell into his aunt’s lap. “Word travels fast. Actually, when I see Lady Farnsworth, I thought to enquire if she wished to continue on there under lease. Grayling has suggested before that she is inordinately fond of Winslette and manages it well.”
Aunt Pen set her cup aside and folded her hands in her lap, a sure sign she was just now warming to her inquisition. “When I heard of the new purchase, I assumed you might want to live there with your new wife.”
Since there was no chance of avoiding the subject, he chose to tackle it head on. “I’ve not married yet, and Grandfather sending me a special license will not spur me to propose.” He shook his head. “I own many properties, both in England and abroad, though I have not seen many in some time. An inspection is overdue at many. I really must attend to that soon.”
It was a risk mentioning any future plans to travel. He hoped offering up a bit of his life would distract her from asking further questions of Arabella and Cecily and any likely bride.
Her eyes narrowed. “Very well. Since you claim to know nothing of her disappearance, I will leave you in peace. When you do see Lady Farnsworth, be sure to give her my regards. Lovely girl, but so terribly tall.”
Aunt Pen stood and made her way to the door. Merrick watched her the whole way just to be sure she’d gone.
When the door closed, he strode to Holland. “She knows.”
His half brother stared at the closed door his aunt had passed through moments before. “About your pursuit of a bride? That was always in the cards the minute you took Lady Mary driving in the park.”
“No, she knows Lady Farnsworth is here.”
Holland shook his head. “Surely not or she would have said something. She would have demanded to see her.”
Merrick checked the time on his pocket watch. An hour until dinner with Arabella. Would he get to dine with her without his aunt coming back with Farnsworth in tow? “She uttered not one word about Laurence being missing from Town, and mention of having called on Mr. Milne yesterday barely stirred a ripple of interest. She left the house too quickly. She came for confirmation and somehow she got it.” He stared hard at Holland, wondering what had been said in his absence.
The other man shook his head, but his expression grew worried. “I swear I did nothing to give Lady Farnsworth away. How could she possibly know?”
He tucked his watch away and straightened his waistcoat. “I’ve no idea, but unless we want a scene that will be talked of for a decade should Farnsworth come to my door, Arabella must leave my house.”
Even now, well before his aunt could reach her home, he could imagine the flurry of letters she would write. If not tonight, then by morning they would be besieged. Farnsworth would come and upset Arabella. His own family might just come too, all very ready to remind him that the surest way to avoid scandal for the family was to marry Arabella immediately. He had the special license. It could be done tomorrow.
Being married in such circumstances was not part of his plan. He had wanted to avoid his family’s interference in his choice of bride. He growled his annoyance and stalked past Holland, taking the stairs two at a time on his way upstairs. When he reached Arabella’s door, he knocked, immediately hoping the loud sound would not startle her unduly.
As soon as the door opened, he stepped inside. “My aunt knows you are here. You have to leave before she can either come back or return with Farnsworth. The man has been looking for you everywhere.”
Arabella’s face leeched of color. “You never mentioned that before.”
“I didn’t want to upset you.” He moved closer to her. “What do you want to do? By morning my aunt will have told those she deems worthy of the news that you are in my power. We could tell the truth about Farnsworth striking you and attempting to force you into a match you didn’t want, but one is as bad as the other. Your reputation will never survive.”
She shivered and hugged her arms about her. “From my point of view the two are widely different. I’d choose being in your power over Farnsworth’s any day. But where can I go?”
“There is always Wiltshire.”
She nodded slowly. “Grayling would take me in surely. I had not wanted to impose on him and Rosemary. They are only just married. I suppose I could be of help with the children.”
He frowned at that. There was no way he could imagine she’d be content looking after someone else’s children. “Winslette is there for you to return to if you wish.”
“If Farnsworth hasn’t sold it already.”
Merrick hadn’t found the words or the opportunity to mention her estate. In truth, he had never wanted to add to her disappointments by mentioning the transition of ownership. Given the circumstances, Merrick hoped she would not take his purchase of the property badly. “You can return. This may have been presumptuous on my part, but I purchased the property from Farnsworth the day you came to me. I didn’t know how you’d take the news and kept silent. Forgive me.”
She closed her eyes. “Then I truly am dependent only on him.”
“Not if you don’t want to be.” He caught her hands in his and brought them to his chest. “Farnsworth seemed very keen to be rid of it and now it seems clear as to why.”
“He wanted me in his power. He wanted to make sure I had nowhere to go but where he told me.” She freed her hand from his grip and pressed her hands to her face, hiding behind them momentarily. When she emerged, her expression was bitter. She rubbed her throat, caressing the place that Farnsworth had held her and caused such injury. “Cecily tried to warn me, but I dismissed it. I never imagined the scenario reaching this conclusion.”
“I doubt few would have foreseen this occurring.” He caressed the back of her clutching fingers. “Farnsworth cannot come to Winslette now that I own it. He has no right.”
“Why did you buy my home?”
Merrick moved Arabella to the setting by the window as he tried to put his decision into some form of order that would make sense to her. “The property is a beauty and is well situated. At first I considered whether it might do for Grayling, an expansion of his property, but with no time to get word to him, I purchased it first. I own nothing in Wiltshire but am often there as Grayling’s guest. It is a good investment. If later he’s keen to add the acres to his own, it’s a matter that will always be open for discussion. But you must believe I never had any intention of throwing you from the estate.”
“But you intend to live there?”
“No. When you told me it was on the market, I couldn’t imagine you not living there. Having Grayling as a confidant means I knew much more about the property than most interested buyers would. By all accounts, you managed it well without assistance. I have no qualms at all for you to remain as long as you wish.”
“You would let a woman manage one of your properties?” Her eyes widened and then she shook her head. “Before Farnsworth would come every few months and make me feel my decisions were foolish. I guess now I must concede he only left me in peace and limited freedom because I mourned his brother. Coming to London changed that.”
The color in her cheeks drained away. Merrick quickly touched her arm in an attempt to send her insecurities into the far distance. “Enough of Farnsworth for tonight. He is no longer important.”
“No. No, he certainly is not.”
“That’s my girl.” Merrick swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth. “I should mention from the outset that I should only need visit once or twice a year to assure myself that all is well with you. I doubt I would ever reverse any decision you made. Grayling has indicated you take a very sensible and farseeing approach to land management.”
She nodded slowly. “I had ample time to read about many things most married women do not. My husband had his own life and was rarely underfoot.”
Curiosity got the better of him. “Did you like being married?”
Her face changed to one of bitterness. “Not really. But after my husband died, I came to enjoy the freedom to come and go at will without explaining my every movement or expense. Then Farnsworth summoned me to be his daughter’s chaperone and I was once more forced to account for my every action and shilling spent. I miss Wiltshire and my friends. Farnsworth insisted I do things his way, far too often.”
“I see.” Merrick bit his lip. Arabella hadn’t been treated very fairly. While he could understand her frustration, he wouldn’t ever treat his wife that way. He hoped they would share a life. Given her wish for freedom, he decided then and there that he wouldn’t impose on her by staying at Winslette. He’d ride across from Grayling’s estate and keep his visits as short as possible. “Arabella, are you ready to go home? I fear if you remain much longer under my roof then my aunt will do her worst to ruin you or force the alternative.”
She looked up at him, confusion clear in her expression. “What alternative could there be?”
He eased back from her disappointed that a marriage between them had to be discussed under such circumstances. “My aunt would do everything in her power to avoid family scandal. She would insist I marry you.”
Arabella drew back a little. “I don’t want to be married. Not simply to avoid a scandal. I was naïve in marrying the first time, and I like what little freedom I have gained since. I abandoned my life to avoid a marriage I didn’t want. I doubt your aunt could persuade me to anything right now.”
“I assumed as much.” He smiled, though his disappointment was acute. He did not blame her. Marriage required sacrifice. “Can you be ready to leave early tomorrow? If so, I’ll take you home.”
She stared at him a long moment, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “Are you not busy with the season’s amusements? You go out so often that I would not mind if you’d rather remain here. I can easily make the journey alone.”
His heart clattered against his ribs frantically at the speculation on her face. Was she curious about whether he’d found a bride? “I wouldn’t dream of it. I assure you there is nothing of importance to keep me in London at present.”
“Oh.” Her eyes held his for a long moment, her expression clearing as she smiled shyly. “I will not mind going home with you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In a world where every word had to be guarded and every decision weighed carefully, Arabella’s choice to place her trust in Rothwell was extraordinary, even to her. At the end of each day of their journey home to Winslette, they’d had a quiet dinner together and then she’d spend the long hours of the night tossing and turning, finally to be awoken by Rothwell’s quiet tap on the door each morning so they could enjoy a very early departure, as was his preference.
They had been traveling since before the sun rose each morning, leaving London sleeping in their wake. They’d taken rooms at pleasant inns along the way, but had resumed their journey each morning without incident. She had barely spent a moment alone and was not sorry for it.
Rothwell remained alert on his side of the carriage, Arabella facing toward home. It was not lost on her the sense of peace that came with leaving London. What she wasn’t so sure of was why Rothwell expected nothing in return for his assistance.
His head turned from the window and their eyes met across the carriage. He neither smiled nor frowned, simply held her gaze a long moment before returning his attention to the view. It was almost as if he felt nothing about helping her. That was comforting but also a touch insulting. After giving it some thought, she realized she would miss his quiet company and the way he instantly made her feel safe.
Her gaze traveled to the man seated at his side. She had been rather startled to find Mr. Holland seated inside the carriage before she entered it that first morning. Rothwell gave no explanation for Holland’s presence, but the man made as unlikely a chaperone as there had ever been. He smiled as he turned the page.
And there it was again. A resemblance she couldn’t dismiss after so many hours of close confinement. Holland’s lips quirked often, a reaction perhaps to a passage in the book he was reading, and he turned the page, looking very much like Rothwell.
Arabella leaned her head against the squabs, allowing her deductions to form, unimpeded by emotion. Rothwell and Holland were related of a certainty. There was similarity in much of their faces, though only Rothwell could truly be considered handsome. Holland was shorter and seemed a few years older than his employer. She had few doubts they shared the same blood—they appeared as similar as brothers.
“It won’t be long now, I should think,” Rothwell murmured.
She smiled as she noticed that Rothwell spoke both for her own benefit as well as for that of Mr. Holland. Despite being lord and servant—or were they even that?—Rothwell appeared to consider the comfort of the other man quite often.
She said, “No, not long at all. Just along the way is a little bridge where the local children like to fish. After that is a row of very large oak trees beside a long stone wall. A short distance from there we turn right, and another mile after is Winslette.”
“You know the place very well indeed.” A frown marred his handsome face. “You were from Essex, Maidstone, were you not? Do you visit there often?”
She was surprised he knew and remembered that. “Not very often at all, but I do long to travel to see old friends. I suppose that will be difficult now. I did not consider this before, but given how things stand now, I know not how I will support myself.”
Rothwell smiled to acknowledge her situation. “Old friends are often the very best. They forgive lapses of communication more easily than newer acquaintances, in my opinion.”
She appreciated that he made no mention of how to solve every difficulty in her life. Having him, a friend of a friend, purchase her home was a remarkable boon and certainly removed one burden from her mind. Her servants would not be dismissed out of hand, but there was only so much she could ask of him for herself. Their friendship was far too insubstantial to risk. One demand too many and his aid might disappear completely. “I had a best friend when I was growing up there, but she married and moved to the north. We still write each year. I had wished to see her again one day.”
“Where did she move to? Do you know?”
“Somerset, a house east of Taunton.”
Rothwell smiled suddenly and glanced out the window. “I have an estate near there, don’t I, Holland?”
“Yes, my lord.” Holland closed his book. “A small house on a hill in the middle of several hundred acres, I believe.”
Rothwell frowned. “The roadway floods during the spring rains.”
“I believe that was why you bought the place.” Holland grinned. “You said the flooded road would lessen any interruptions from unwanted visitors.”
“Sounds like a very good reason to buy any place the Fords cannot reach.” Rothwell smiled cheekily in Arabella’s direction. “I like to avoid them at all costs.”
Arabella laughed. “So if I confess that your aunt quite terrifies me, you will not think too badly of me? I always wonder why she smiles at me so much when we have little to do with one another.”
Rothwell appeared startled by that revelation and glanced at Holland. They exchanged a long look, quite like one seeing a reflection in a mirror, before Rothwell returned his attention to her. “She would be hard-pressed to find fault with you, but you are wise to regard her with caution,” he said in all seriousness. “My aunt cannot help but meddle. Ah, we’re here at last.”
Arabella stared out the window. Home. As had happened so often during the journey, she’d lost track of time while speaking with Rothwell. She was just getting the man to open up and now the journey was over. She was very sorry it was. She’d love to know why he avoided his family, aside from wishing for no interference in his life. There was something he would not say. A disagreement that had never been settled, perhaps. Now there was no time to discover it, however. She needed him and couldn’t risk offending him.
When the carriage rolled to a stop before the front steps, Rothwell climbed out and then extended his hand to her.
Her butler, Mr. Piper, appeared almost instantly, hastily rushing to greet them in the drive. “My lady?”
Arabella set her hand in Rothwell’s and joined him. There was nothing like returning to the place you feel most comfortable. Despite how she must appear in the company of a strange man, she grinned at her butler to assure him she was exactly where she wanted to be. “Did I catch you unawares?”
He peered hard at her, color draining from his usually ruddy cheeks. “Indeed you did, but I am very glad to see you looking so well. The house is closed up as you requested on your departure, but I’d expected a message a few days ahead of your return so all that could be attended to.”
He turned questioning eyes toward her companions.
She did not want him to misunderstand the reason for her current company. Rothwell had done more for her than she’d dreamed he would want to. She turned to the man still holding her hand, her cheeks warming because his presence always had an impact on her. She owed Rothwell a debt that could never be repaid. “Under normal circumstances I would have sent one, but I wanted to come home. Mr. Piper, you have the pleasure of meeting Lord Rothwell. Farnsworth has sold Winslette to him.”
All the blood drained from Piper’s face. “Sold, you say?”
Rothwell released her hand, his expression growing serious as he appraised the butler with a haughty disdain so unlike his recent countenance. “Nothing changes for your mistress. You will go on in the manner she wishes.”
“It is not that.” Piper rubbed his hand over his face. “Lord Farnsworth is here. He’s looking for Lady Farnsworth. He told us she was missing.”
Arabella glanced at Rothwell nervously. Farnsworth was in her home. A place she’d been assured of sanctuary. “He should not be here. The sale was completed, wasn’t it?”
Rothwell rubbed her arms and then shrugged out of his coat and wrapped her in it. “No, he hasn’t the right to be anywhere on the place. Holland, remain with Arabella and do not let her come inside till I say so. Jimmy, you’re with me.”
Arabella caught Rothwell’s arm and kept him with her as the coachman bounded toward the door, rolling up his shirtsleeves. “What do you mean to do?”
He brushed the thumb of his free hand across her cheek gently, the same cheek Farnsworth had struck when she’d refused to do his bidding and marry Parker without complaint. This time the sensation was pleasant. One she would remember fondly forever.
“I intend to teach him the manners he lacks.” A smile grew on his face. “I’m so pleased he decided to trespass. His comeuppance is days overdue. Wait for me and all will be well.”
She let him go and watched his departure anxiously, the coachman and Piper flanking him seeming far too little support. She edged closer to Holland. “He’ll be all right, won’t he?”
Holland might have smiled, but his eyes were filled with concern. “He may claim to dislike the reference, but he is a Ford. He can handle himself in a fight when necessary.”
From within the house came a shout, the crash of wood splintering, and then a long silence. Arabella craned her neck but could see nothing through the open doorway.
When Rothwell finally strode out, his cravat was askew, his breathing hurried, but the look on his face proved he was pleased with events. He reached for his coat without a word and shoved his arms into the sleeves. “The vermin is being removed by a side door as we speak and will be escorted some distance from the house to ensure the fool leaves. I’m sorry about the table. I’ll replace it with whatever your heart desires.”
Arabella bit her lip as he smoothed his waistcoat and straightened his cravat. The fool grinned. She could not believe he could smile at a time like this. If not for Rothwell’s escort, she would have faced Farnsworth again and alone. She buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with relief to have gone to Rothwell for aid in the first place.
After a long moment, Rothwell’s arms slowly encircled her and tightened about her. “He will not bother you ever again, I swear. You will never need to see him.”
When released, she glanced around swiftly, aware that there were servants around them and they had viewed her behavior. To her surprise, not one faced her. They had all turned away. “Thank you.”
Recalled to their audience too, Rothwell’s posture stiffened. “Holland, see to the carriage and have everything ready for our return to London.”
A rush of panic seized Arabella. For the whole of the trip she had not thought of what would happen next. She wasn’t prepared to let Rothwell go just yet. In the distant carriage house, servants could be seen rushing to hitch the horses to ensure Farnsworth’s immediate departure. But what if Farnsworth returned tonight while she was sleeping? The idea of it brought on panic. She couldn’t face him ever again. She grabbed Rothwell’s hand and held it tightly. “Surely you wish to inspect the property you purchased,” she blurted out, purely as a means to delay his departure.
Rothwell glanced around, eyeing his new possession and then the distant carriage house. He nodded slowly. “I should like that.”
Holland edged closer. “Are you not forgetting those matters in London that required all your attention before, and the other one to be attended to on our way there?”
“There is plenty of time to accomplish it all.”
Were they speaking of the special license or something else entirely? She had a nagging feeling something was to be done when she wasn’t around. The sense of exclusion grated on her nerves. Given the aggravated expression on Rothwell’s face, he didn’t want to discuss it before her. But to make use of the special license, Rothwell would have to marry before the march of time made it worthless. He had a month, or so she believed, but she did not know when the license had been issued.
To her surprise, Rothwell took her arm and threaded it through his. He led her toward the front door. “I would be very happy to have a tour if you can spare me an hour.”
It would take quite a bit longer than an hour to view the property properly. Arabella quickly tallied a list guaranteed to keep Rothwell occupied and with her for as long as possible. He should have an intimate knowledge before he left. He would probably be hungry too. Besides, any good hostess would see his appetites were fully catered to.
