Page 15 of The Earl's Heiress
Arabella reacted as if she had been slapped, but Temple believed she had to be told. He had no illusions about their union. Her back stiffened, and she stood taller.
“I would like to return to the house now.” Arabella’s voice was clipped.
“As you wish.”
They walked to the house in silence. Temple knew that he was right so he didn’t understand why he felt like such a cad. He entered the residence to issue an invitation for the family to have an extended visit to Stanford Hall. It was promptly accepted, but all he could think about was Arabella’s blue eyes when he said her dowery was an enticement to marriage. He was just stating the obvious. It was a fact, but he had seen the pain flash within the icy depths as her eyes bored into him. Perhaps he should have been gentler because he truly didn’t want to hurt her. Temple took his leave.
Duty would insist upon his marriage, and he accepted it. He was pleased to spend with Miss Arabella despite their disagreement. He hadn’t enjoyed much of anything since his father died. He withdrew from public life and didn’t attend the House of Commons. His pending marriage and reentry into society gave him a sense of purpose. He had the impetuous to restore the family fortune and to produce an heir.
Arabella wanted love, but love was not a necessary ingredient for a marriage. He wouldn’t love her, but he would care for her. There was a niggling question in the back of his mind, and it was one for which he had no answer. What if caring for her wasn’t enough? What then?
CHAPTER 7
Stanford Hall
No one had ever spoken to Arabella as if she were a spoilt child who had been indulged all her life and was faced with a reality that she refused to accept. She had done nothing but express her opinion, which she was entitled to do, but she felt Lord Stanford had reprimanded her. How could he not understand that love was an integral part of her happiness? It didn’t seem to matter how she felt because Mama, Papa and Lord Stanford felt the same.
They had arrived at Stanford Hall two days earlier. Mama was so pleased about the invitation that she wanted to leave immediately, but Papa had cautioned her to wait. He wanted to conclude the negotiations of the marriage contract before they departed, and apparently, he was satisfied. She didn’t know all the details, but she hoped to find out.
It was late in the evening and Arabella was waiting in the woods on the left of the long driveway to Stanford Hall. She was dressed in male garments. Her hair was plaited and neatly tucked under a hat. Her curiosity spurred her into action andtonight called for an investigation. She noticed that on the last two nights after dinner Temple disappeared. She sat by her window, which overlooked the beautifully manicured lawns and garden as well as the driveway. He had not returned for many hours and she was determined to find out where he went.
As if on cue, she heard the rumbling of his carriage down the driveway, and she waited until it was at a discrete distance before she followed. Arabella rode closely enough behind the carriage to ensure she would not lose it, yet not so close that she would be spotted. She was relieved that it was a clear night because darkness would have made the journey impossible. Memories of the rainstorm were still fresh in her memory. She listened to the familiar sounds of the night and inhaled the fresh air. Her heart was beating faster, and she anticipated what she was about to discover would not be pleasant. By the end of the night, she would know if he had a mistress and who the woman was.
Lord Stanford had made it clear that he was enticed by her money, and there was no room for love. Could it be that he was in love with someone else? Had he chosen her to be his dutiful wife who would restore his estate and provide him with children yet chose a mistress to give his heart to? She recalled his tenderness in the garden and found it at odds with his callous disregard for her request not to have a mistress. When the tears ran down her cheeks, with a fleeting touch, he brushed them away. A radiating heat moved down her cheeks, and she shivered. Arabella liked the feel of his hand on her, skin to skin, and she wanted to reach up and hold his hand against her cheek. She would have if Gertrude had not arrived. She couldn’t bear the thought of those hands caressing another woman.
Arabella’s feelings for Lord Stanford were anything but consistent. He was kind and compassionate when he rescued her. He seemed to have a sense of duty and the need to ensurethat he did whatever was right. Yet, he dismissed her feelings about love and refused to say he would not keep a mistress. It was infuriating, yet she wanted him to kiss her. Never before had she experienced such an acute awareness of a man, nor had she felt this yearning unfurling within her.
The carriage turned off to the right and when Arabella arrived at the fork in the road, she could make out lights ahead. It appeared that Lord Stanford was only traveling to a neighboring estate. As they grew closer to the grand mansion, there seemed to be an air of festivity, and Arabella could see people milling around through the large sash windows. She quickly hid in the shadows of the pristine hedge that bordered the driveway as the carriage pulled up and Lord Stanford disembarked. He bounded up the stairs, where his hat and coat were taken at the door. Arabella realized that she couldn’t go inside. She wasn’t appropriately dressed for the occasion and wouldn’t be able to fool anyone. It didn’t really matter as the windows were well-illuminated, so she would get closer and still be able to see what was going on inside.
As she drew closer, she rounded the corner of the house, and the soft sound of music and excited chatter greeted her. She walked up to the window, trampling a few flowers in the process, and peered into the drawing room. A gasp escaped her lips. Arabella had never seen so much of another woman’s flesh uncovered. On the contrary, women were always well-clothed, although she believed women wore too many garments. The women were singing and doing a seductive dance with feathers covering their derriere and … On second glance, she realized that one of the women wore flesh-colored silk hosiery that did little to conceal her curves.
Good heavens!
Arabella was both scandalized, thrilled and … excited. She rested a hand on her chest, and her heart was beating so fastit threatened her chest. The women continued their seductive movements, and all eyes in the room were trained on them. The hosiery was an ingenious coup, giving the impression of naked flesh while remaining covered by the sheer layer. The women stopped singing and said something that caused the crowd to laugh, but Arabella could not hear what it was. She recognized the performance was burlesque. She had heard about it, yet she never thought she would see staging, and a private show at that.
“You. What are you doing there?”
Arabella froze for a moment before she spun around and came face to face with the butler, who took Lord Stanford’s coat. She had been caught red-handed, and she didn’t quite know how she was going to explain it. She was always getting herself into scrapes. Her best-laid plans had gone to hell because she hadn’t thought about what to do if she got caught. Nobody ever plans on getting caught. She couldn’t tell the last time she was rendered speechless.
“I’m waiting, lad. What are you doing there?”
Arabella deepened her voice as best she could. “I fear I have no excuse for being here other than my curiosity, sir.”
“And you expect me to believe that, do you?”
“It is only the truth.” She declared.
“It is more likely you’re a thief, and I will let my lord decide what should be done with you.”
The butler took a few determined steps and reached for her, but Arabella swatted his hand away. She was indignant. “I’m no thief!”
She looked over the butler’s shoulder to see a few well-dressed gentlemen approaching. Her heart sank with dread. Her time in England was not going very well. She had only barely managed to avert one scandal, which was no fault of her own, only to find herself skirting another. She couldn’t blame anyone but herself for this one. She needed to think and fast. Asthe gentlemen grew closer, she realized one of them was Lord Stanford.
Damnation!He would witness her humiliation.
The sight of Lord Stanford made her forget the plan she had been formulating. They stopped behind the butler, and several pairs of eyes surveyed her. A noble-looking man glared at her, although he directed his question to the butler. “What is the meaning of this?”
She could feel Lord Standford’s heavy stare but did not look in his direction. Instead, she gazed at the butler, who appeared smug.
