Page 11 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
He had nearly taken his beloved’s virtue against the wall of Lady Glenda’s home, with hundreds of guests indoors and on the balcony, eager to drum up any bit of scandal they could find.
But perhaps I should have. She might have married me then.
Grumbling, he rose from his chair, giving up on eating that morning and deciding that a ride in the park would do for him. Faster than usual, he was dressed and ready, riding his black horse in Regent’s Park, the slight breeze refreshing. It was spring, but there was still a little bite in the air, and he shivered a little.
Normally, he might have raced down the path, enjoying the freedom a gallop would bring, but his thoughts were far too muddled, and a trot was enough for now. He tipped his hat to passing acquaintances, a forced smile on his face, especially when he saw their surprise at his return. But then, he saw her again, and his mouth opened, sucking in a breath.
So, she was not a dream.
Not that he had thought she was, but it had seemed so miraculous to suddenly see her again after all those years that he had second-guessed himself. But now, there she was in the light of day, walking down the park path, her hands folded together, a look of concern on her face. For a moment, he forgot the past. His heart ached at the sight of her in distress.
He had never been able to bear it, and he slowed, jumping down from his horse to walk right up to her. His heart was pounding, getting this close to her when the last time they’d been together, they were closer than two people could be. He swallowed hard, pulling his horse to the side of the path, and then he cleared his throat.
“Arabella,” he said in a voice he didn’t quite recognize.
She looked up at him, her eyes yet again the odd mixture of blue and green, as if they couldn’t decide which colour to be.
“Edward,” she said, blinking at him and looking around, this time her cheeks pinkening. “You’ve come home.”
“Yes,” he said, straightening a little, hating the way his heart had simply jumped towards her, propelling him to speak to her when he wanted to forget all about her, forget how she’d run from him only yesterday.
She looked to the side as if embarrassed to be seen with him and took a step back as well. But Edward could see the pulse tripping at her throat, the way her chest was heaving ragged breaths.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He took a step back then as well, amazed that he had done such a thing when his heart was still raw. Four years later, it was still raw.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You seem concerned.”
She sucked in a breath, almost silent, but he could hear it. In fact, it made his eyes move to look at her lips, lips he knew the feeling of, the taste of. When his eyes returned to hers, he saw the furrow in her brow, and he wanted to smooth it, to make her smile again.
“Yes,” she said suddenly and sharply, her chin lifting. “I am very well, indeed. Thank you, My Lord.” And then, without another word, she turned out of his sphere, turned away from him yet again, and walked off down the park path, not looking back at him.
“Well, that’s the last time I bloody ask,” he said through gritted teeth, jumping up on his horse and racing off in the opposite direction.
Now, he was ready to gallop.
Chapter 12
The next day, Arabella was trailing her finger along the windowsill, looking out on the street, her mind trying to focus on the situation with Alvin and Jacinda. She’d hardly seen her brother the day before. She’d heard from the servants that he’d arrived late at night, smelling of brandy after a long night of card playing at White’s.
She couldn’t blame him, and yet she wished to help him. They had never been taught to just sit and let things happen. They were the Montrose family, and they could fight this phantom with their lies and threats. But at the same time, she still couldn’t rid herself of that heart-pounding feeling of seeing Edward again in the park yesterday.
His eyes, so full of something like his old love and heat, had moved to her mouth as he’d asked after her welfare. She’d hardly noticed him until he was right in front of her. In a flash, her body had reacted strongly, and she hoped that he could not see just how he discomfited her, how much he made her feel like she was lost at sea.
He had always been that way, always considerate of her feelings, and then, in the end, it had been her to leave him behind when he’d asked to meet her. When he’d asked her to run away. Now, she’d run away again and feared she’d been terribly rude, running as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. Arabella groaned and closed her eyes.
But why should I be embarrassed? He deserves it. He never allowed explanation or understanding. He never worried about why we could not be and never listened.
“Arabella? You wanted to see me?” Alvin asked, peeking through her sitting room door.
“Yes, come in, Alvin.” He walked in, the circles under his eyes dark. “I wanted to chat away from the servants’ ears.” He sat down and looked at her.
“I think we need to continue thinking of a solution to your problem.”
He groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. He looked disheveled, as if he’d dismissed his valet for the day. “I feel as though I don’t have the mental strength to fight against this. I’ve already lost her, Arabella.”
“And what will you do about it? Simply sit back? Father would not have approved.”
