Page 29 of A Lady Igniting Wicked Passions
Chapter 17
Aaron wanted to kick himself. His growing infatuation with Arabella was bad enough. That was impractical and immature, under the circumstances. But to allow himself to be intimate with her, while recuperating in her own father’s house was careless in the extreme. To do it without taking due care that the sister, whom he had agreed to marry, would not walk in…
He did not blame Arabella. Could not blame her. It should never have reached this point. He was thinking with his heart instead of his head. The priority was obtaining the dowry that Helena would command and using that dowry to free himself and Blakehill from their crushing debts. But now all of that was in jeopardy.
“Helena, whatever do you mean?” Arabella said, letting Aaron’s hand fall.
“Don’t you dare try and tell me that this is innocent!” Helena continued to scream.
“I was passing and I heard His Grace fall. I helped him from the floor, that is all. What did you think was happening?” Arabella said, as innocently as she could.
Helena stepped closer to Arabella, eyes afire and face dark with rage.
“Do not treat me like an idiot, Arabella,” she hissed.
“And do not be so disrespectful to your future husband,” Aaron put in, levering himself to his feet.
Helena spared some of her glare for him, looking him up and down dismissively, before returning her furious stare on her sister.
“I will make you pay for this,” she said.
“Lady Helena!” Aaron barked. “Are you accusing me of lying?”
Helena’s look dripped with contempt. She held up a small, metal object. It was red and white.
“Santiago,” Aaron whispered.
“You have been in my rooms!” Arabella said accusingly.
Helena smiled coldly. “I have. A very good friend of mine suggested that you might be in possession of this and suggested I look for it. I did not expect to find the two of you being quite so brazen.”
“I found it during the ball. It must have become dislodged. I did not know it belonged to His Grace,” Arabella said.
“It is proof of nothing,” Aaron replied.
“Because there is nothing to prove,” Arabella insisted.
Helena closed her hand around the medal as Aaron reached out for it. She stepped back and he wavered, head suddenly spinning and feeling unequal to the task of pursuing her, let along taking the St James medal back.
“It does not matter. I am not going to allow you to deny me the honour of being the Duchess of Ashenwood. You have poor taste if you are choosing her over me, but I will not lose the status I was to gain because of that. I will keep this and you will remember the reason you are seeking my hand in marriage.”
Aaron frowned. His head was fuzzy. It was difficult to think straight. Even the most straightforward logic was twisting from his mental grasp. It was not a good time to be having this conversation, to be potentially giving Helena more ammunition than she already had.
For a brief moment he considered telling her to go to hell. He even asked himself why he was enduring such a tongue lashing. Then his battered mind remembered his uncle and their shared predicament. There were other women who would come with a handsome dowry. But little time to begin the process again of negotiation and courtship.
“I will not speak of this to my father. He would surely throw you out on your ear if I did. It will remain our secret. On one condition. You will not see Arabella again.”
“That will be difficult, Helena. Given that mother and father wish to see us married at the same time. And have planned more events to show us off to the ton. I will be in your company and in Aaron’s.”
Aaron caught the mistake before Arabella did. He saw the look of triumph on Helena’s face and then the dawning realization on Arabella’s.
“Aaron?” Helena said, grinning.
Arabella seemed lost for words. There was no real way back from that slip of the tongue, no excuse she could give or rationale. She had no reason to be using Aaron’s first name. Either she was incredibly rude and presumptuous, combined with a complete ignorance of the most basic social conventions, or…She and he were close enough to dispense with titles. Helena knew it. Arabella looked at him, her face stricken.
“It makes no difference, Arabella,” Aaron said. “Why pretend? Lady Helena has made it clear she will hold onto me for my title. It will not dissuade her.”
A calm seemed to fall over Arabella and she nodded, stepping closer to Aaron. Then, she took his hand. It was bold and the expression on Helena’s face resembled that of a person who had taken a bite from a lemon. Aaron squeezed her fingers gently but did not look at her.
