Page 65 of A Fake Courtship with the Marquess
“Not at all,” she replied, a note too quickly. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave. “Do you know if anything has been discovered in the house?”
His brow furrowed. “There was some evidence of foul play at the vineyards, but the house is too badly scorched to find anything incriminating. We know it began on the lower floor, as it took time to reach my mother and you, but that is all. I suppose that was the point, to leave no evidence behind.” He sighed. “I am just grateful, for my mother and father’s sake, that they managed to douse the flames before they spread to the rest of the house. Half a home is better than no home.”
“Will they venture elsewhere, do you think?” It saddened Arabella to think of the Duke and Duchess being forced from their family seat.
Henry shrugged. “I doubt it. They are stubborn as mules, the pair of them. Besides, the summer house is untouched. It is small, yes, but I am sure they will manage. Otherwise, they will have to reside at Haskett Manor, with me, and I do not think they like the notion very much.”
“Is it unpleasant?” Curiosity gave Arabella a welcome diversion from the fire. After all, if she was going to marry Henry, she supposed she ought to know what his personal residence was like.
I would be a Marchioness and then, in time, a Duchess.Titles were not something Arabella had ever thought much about. In truth, it frightened her, for what if she was no good at being in such a high position? Worse still, what if it put her in harm’s way? Would the enemies of the Wright dynasty become hers, by way of marriage? A nasty inheritance.
“Goodness, no.” Henry’s smiled widened a touch. “It is a beautiful house, with expansive gardens that I am convinced you would adore. There is a lake, verdant woodland, a waterfall, and it is not far from the sea.”
Arabella tilted her head to one side. “Then why do you not live there more often? As far as I am aware, London has primarily been your home.”
“There is no house beautiful enough to stave off loneliness, when you are the only one there. The servants are present, of course, but it is not the same as sharing a home with someone,” he explained, holding her gaze. “I would find myself wandering aimlessly, trying to fill the hours. More often than not, I ended up journeying back to London not long after arriving at the manor.”
Arabella dropped her chin to her chest. “Sometimes, even in a house with other people, there is loneliness.” She swallowed thickly. “I would relish it if I did not have to feel that way again.”
“I will ensure you do not.” Henry’s fingertips gently tilted her head back up, while his other hand cupped her cheek. “I love you, Arabella.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Pardon?”
“I have longed to tell you, but I am not accustomed to using such a powerful word,” he replied hurriedly. “Then, when I saw you falling from the wall, and I did not know if I would be able to catch you safely, I realized how idiotic I had been. In my mind, I cursed myself for not telling you sooner. In that moment, watching you tumble, I did not know if I would ever get the chance. So, while this might not perfect, I will say how I feel, again—I love you.”
Joyful tears brimmed in Arabella’s eyes. “You… love me?”
“I do, Arabella. I expect I have loved you since our first Viennese Waltz.” He smiled awkwardly. “No, perhaps it was afterward, when I had embarrassed you, and I saw you walking in the moonlight with your mother. You were wearing that hideous gown, but I had never seen anyone more ethereal in all my life.”
Arabella laughed. “Are you sure you saw me?”
“Certain.”
Her expression turned more serious. “I love you, too. I asked for my fairytale hero, and did not realize, for more time than I care to admit, that he was right in front of me.” She nuzzled her cheek lightly against his palm. “But… I am fearful, Henry.”
“Of me?” He looked crestfallen, prompting her to shake her head effusively.
“Not specifically. I am fearful of what marrying you might mean. If your mother had not mentioned you had enemies, I would have no qualms at all, and would be able to consider last night a terrible accident.” Arabella gulped. “I would not care to repeat that experience, or live in fear, knowing it might happen again at any moment.”
Henry gave a slow, resigned nod. “Is this your official refusal of me? I cannot blame you if it is, though my feelings will not alter. I have not known love before and am unlikely to discover it again.”
“Refusal?” Arabella gasped, realizing this was unraveling in a way she had not anticipated. “Of course not, Henry! I would not have said I loved you if I was willing to cast such a rare match aside. I wished only to inform you of my worries. Maybe, I hoped you might allay them in some way.”
Hope gleamed in his eyes. “Whatever will ease your worries, I will do. We could travel wherever you desired, or I could have a house purchased in secret for us, anywhere in the country. Scotland, even.” He paused. “Although, I should say this—in the six-and-twenty years I have been on this Earth, I have never known anyone to actually attack the house or my family. Most of the enemies my mother spoke of are gossipmongers and jealous whisperers.”
“Oh…” Arabella sucked in a deep breath, feeling calmer.
“There is, however, one exception,” Henry added, making her nerves rise sharply again. “My father’s old steward was dismissed after repeated displays of drunkenness, that made him say crass things to my mother, and caused several maids to leave the household because of his licentious words and behaviors. After his dismissal, the old steward tried to kill my mother and father. Fortunately, he was too inebriated when he fired his pistol, and missed my mother by a long way, and could not reload to make a true attempt on my father’s life.”
Arabella’s hand flew to her mouth. “That is awful!”
“He was my father’s dearest friend for a long while, which made it worse. He was the one who revived the vineyard, too.” Henry bowed his head. “In return, my father revived the man’s hopes, for the old steward was a member of the peerage, but he had no house or wealth or prospects to make it anything more than an empty title. His wife had died many years prior, too. My father gave him somewhere to live, something to occupy his days, and a considerable salary. He even paid for the steward’s son to attend Harrow and, later, to read at Cambridge.”
Arabella would have asked more, but her eye was caught by a shadow moving in the cove below. A gaunt, soot-streaked face poked out of one of the small caves she had been so eager to explore, giving her a terrible fright. It looked alarmingly like a ghoul, but as the figure dragged a bony forearm across its forehead, she knew it could not be. It was a boy.
“Who is that?” Arabella pointed downward.
Henry followed her gesture and frowned. “I do not know the child, but he is trespassing on Wright land.”
