Page 30 of A Lady Igniting Wicked Passions
“Enjoy your last intimacy. I will not allow another,” Helena said.
“Who is your very good friend? Your ally,” Arabella said.
Helena’s smile returned. “I wish you a swift recovery, Your Grace. We have tickets to the theatre tomorrow night and I wish to be seen there, with you. I shall leave the two of you to make the most of your last evening together.”
With that, she swept from the room, gliding with the dignity of a swan. As he heard the door close behind her, Aaron growled and kicked out, overturning a table, and sending a number of porcelain ornaments to the ground.
So luxurious and thick were the carpets that, while they broke into shards, there was little noise. Kicking the table itself produced a more satisfying crash but the sudden movement set up a wave of dizziness again and he sat heavily.
“We have been fools,” he muttered. “I have risked breaking my oath to…breaking my oath...”
He looked up and saw the silent tears coursing down Arabella’s face. His anger evaporated at the sight and he lurched to his feet. With a supreme effort of will he reached her and took her in his arms. She pressed her face against his chest and he felt the wetness of her cheeks. It was only then that he remembered he was bare-chested.
The feel of her warm cheeks pressed against him was thrilling and he tried to suppress the excitement that made his heart beat faster. Arabella put her arms about his waist, but let them hang loosely, her palms just touching his back and applying no pressure on his sides. For his part, Aaron held her as tightly as his ribs would allow.
“Helena will make our lives a misery,” Arabella said. “Once, when she was a girl, she stole a ring from mother’s jewellery box and planted it in the room of a maid she had taken a disliking to. The maid was dismissed and refused a reference. Is your oath worth so much that you would consign yourself to such a life?”
She lifted her head and he saw the anger in her eyes, fighting to push out the pain.
“I gave my word. And I will keep it. If there was any other way, I should take it. But there is not.My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours.”
Arabella laughed soundlessly, her mouth twisting into a shape of anguish. “Do not quote the Bard to me. Save him for better times. And by your words I take it you mean to put me aside, just as Helena wants?”
She pushed away from him and the movement was enough to unbalance him. He fell to one knee, a hand to his forehead against the pain. Arabella dropped to both her knees beside him, taking his hands.
“I am sorry. You are such a titan in my eyes that I cannot become accustomed to frailty in you.”
Aaron looked up, seeing her beautiful, tragic face inches from his own. He cupped her cheek with one hand, savouring the delicate softness of her skin. Then he kissed her on the lips. It was long, deep, and lingering. The kind of kiss which Romeo and Juliet shared at the climax of their story. The kind of kiss that steals the breath and sends fire through the veins.
After an eternity, their lips parted and neither had words. Arabella slumped from her knees to sit on the floor and Aaron sat next to her, his back to the bed. For a long time, Arabella caressed his naked chest, laying her hand flat upon it and stroking it with her fingers. Aaron closed his eyes and savoured her touch, wanting each sensation to be scored, indelibly into his mind.
Words appeared in his mind. They came from the library that he knew so well, the words of the great Bard that had inspired and entranced him since boyhood. The same words rolled over and over. Aaron opened his eyes and the pain in his head cleared somewhat.
The sense of helplessness faded. The frustration of being manipulated, controlled, led around on a leash, lessened. Arabella looked up as he looked at her. Aaron opened his mouth to speak but she spoke first.
“Who could refrain that had a heart to love and in that heart courage to make love known?”She said.
Aaron could not speak. Those same words from Macbeth had been in his mind too.
“To hell with her,” he said, more prosaic than Arabella.
She grinned.
“We can’t hold back the tide but we can make the most of the time we have,” Aaron said. “And damn the rest!”
Chapter 18
The next two weeks were both paradise and purgatory for Arabella. Her mother and father wished to capitalize on their time in London to the fullest. They had arranged for a myriad of social occasions at which to show off the matches they had arranged for their daughters. There were luncheons at Portman Square and at the homes of various members of the ton.
At those, Arabella smiled and tried to dote on her husband-to-be who, to his credit, seemed to be trying just as hard. Arabella hoped that it did not look as forced as it felt. There were dinners at which she found herself sitting opposite Edgeworth and next to Aaron.
At those occasions, Helena was prim and perfect on the surface, but Arabella could see the volcanic anger lurking beneath the surface. She found that she did not care if others could see it or what reason Helena would give for being out of sorts if questioned.
Neither their mother nor father appeared to notice and Arabella prayed they remained blissfully unaware of exactly how hopeless their matchmaking had been. They attended four balls and Edgeworth continued to be a hopeless dancer, leaving Arabella relieved when, after the first dance of each ball, he would make his excuses and retreat from the field of conflict.
At the first ball, hosted by the Earl of Landsdowne at his house near St James’ Park, Aaron had asked for Arabella’s hand for the second dance of the evening. That had been one of Arabella’s tastes of heaven.
Gliding around the ballroom with Aaron, all others had ceased to exist. She had maintained a decorum that would have put Helena to shame and a proper distance was maintained between them at all times.
