Page 32 of A Lady Igniting Wicked Passions
“I think our mutual friend would also like to be introduced,” Arabella said, circumspectly.
Edgeworth nodded, keeping his face bland. “Oh yes, I had quite forgotten him. Yes, I quite agree, we should extend an invitation in that direction.”
His mouth twitched in a smile and Arabella shared it. Helena might have been determined to make life difficult for Arabella and Aaron but Edgeworth was cemented to Arabella as an ally. His realization that she could help him to see his own beloved as often as could be arranged had led to him warming towards her considerably.
Such was the way with conspirators. They had traversed almost the full length of the Great Hall when Edgeworth pointed out Aaron and Helena. He steered them in that direction after a nod from Arabella.
As arranged, Charles Cavendish, the Marquess of Harlton, was part of the circle of men and women who were paying obsequious court to the duke and his betrothed. Helena was the centre of that court, showing off the diamond encrusted ring that had been Aaron’s engagement gift to her.
When she saw Arabella she smiled, graciously.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my sister, Arabella and the Marquess of Edgeworth, whose talent at dancing is the envy of every man present.”
That earned a sycophantic titter except for a young woman with dark hair, slender build, and delicate features with a rather pointed nose. Helena happened to be looking in her direction.
“You perhaps think my jest in bad taste. Or simply unfunny?” She asked in a dangerous tone.
Arabella winced at the look of panic that came over the young woman’s face.
“Perhaps, you could favour us with one of your own witticisms. To regale us,” Helena said with perfect politeness and brutal sharpness.
Arabella happened to know that the young woman had recently been debuted and had then lost her father to fever. She also knew that Helena was fully aware and only picked on her because she could not fight back, nor did she have anyone to defend her.
“Helena, my dear. Do not waste your ammunition,” Aaron spoke up.
“I do not like being mocked,” said Helena without looking away from the young girl.
“She does not mock. Probably, she was not listening when you quipped and so missed the essence,” replied Aaron.
“Yes, I did not fully hear what you had to say. This room is so loud,” the young woman stammered, terror widening her eyes.
Helena turned away with a sniff and a raising of her chin.
“Let us take a walk in the gardens. I hear they are unmatched in all of London,” Aaron said, taking Helena’s hand.
“Oh, I do so hate gardens. I much prefer to stay in the warm and dry where my dress will not be tracked through rain and mud and I will not catch cold. But my sister is a great aficionado of the outdoors. I am sure she will accompany you.”
Chapter 19
Arabella looked from Helena to Aaron and tried to conceal her astonishment. Helena turned back to her court dismissively. Aaron bowed to her with an elaborate flourish, which she ignored. Then he walked away.
“I must confess I am not inclined to sample the night air. It does play the merry proverbial with my lungs. I shall remain indoors. Your Grace, I trust you will take care of my beloved,” Edgeworth said.
Aaron inclined his head with grace to Edgeworth who made his departure. Offering his arm to Arabella, Aaron led her through the throng to the tall, doors of pale wood that stood as a mirror to the entrance at the far end. Those doors stood open and admitted to a well-appointed withdrawing room, which was divided into two halves by a broad, carpeted walk that ran down its centre.
A row of window-doors of the French style almost formed an entire wall, allowing a spectacular view of the gardens beyond. As they crossed the drawing room, acknowledging and nodding to those who preferred to do their socializing here, rather than with the mass in the Great Hall, Aaron could see that flaming torches held in iron scones lit a broad paved area, beyond which was an expanse of immaculate lawn.
“How medieval. Is Sussex trying to convince us he is a feudal monarch of some kind?” Aaron muttered.
Outwardly he smiled at those who had also decided to sample the night air and the crudely illuminated garden.
“I think it has a certain romance,” Arabella said. “I am more concerned with Helena’s abrupt change in behaviour.”
They walked along the smooth, even paving, one of many couples promenading. At the edges of the paving string musicians sat and played, adding a delicate sense of refinement. They walked in a clockwise direction, following the others along the lines of flickering torches and past the musicians, pausing to appreciate the music. Conversation was subdued in respect to the artists who were performing.
Aaron’s senses were focused on the part of his arm where Arabella’s hand rested. They maintained a respectable distance, such as would be appropriate for an elderly uncle escorting his niece. Her hand rested lightly but even that gossamer touch was enough to light his nerves afire. Her scent filled his head, he could pick it out of the night air and could have found his way to her blindfolded.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the movements of her head as she looked towards him. Never long enough for any to notice but enough for Aaron to know that she was studying him. It excited him to know it and he could sense it when it was only her eyes that were on him, with no movement of her head.
