Page 8 of A Lady Igniting Wicked Passions
“As your future brother-in-law, may I request the honour of a dance later in the evening?” Aaron asked.
“I shall try and keep a dance free for you, Your Grace,” Arabella replied, cheeks still hot.
“How long have you known Edgeworth?” Aaron asked, curious about the relationship.
“I have known of him for some time. He is a good friend of a close friend of mine, Lord Harlton,” Arabella said.
“And as a potential husband?” Aaron asked.
“About as long as you have known Helena,” Arabella replied. “If I may say so without causing offense, Your Grace, that is a very personal question.”
“A pertinent one as we are to be family,” Aaron replied.
He was recovering something of his wits, to his immense relief. Her scent was maddening him, putting thoughts into his mind that he should not be thinking of a woman destined to be his sister. But he was feeling more in control and even ready to flirt. He might as well have some fun before being shackled to Helena.
“My father has been a busy man, seeking to marry both of us off and the earliest opportunity,” Arabella replied.
They had been moving through the crowd and now reached the impressive array of windows. Helena stood before them, framed by two of them. Outside, torches burned on a paved terrace and the glittering light from those torches framed her. Aaron realized that she had positioned herself just so to be in the perfect setting. It made him want to sigh.
“Your Grace,” she said with perfect diction as she glided forward, her hand outstretched.
Aaron felt Arabella release his arm and was conscious of her moving away from him. He took Helena’s hand and kissed it. When he looked up, Arabella had turned her head away, cheeks now pale.
“Thank you for bringing my fiancée to me, Arabella. Perhaps you should go and find yours?” Helena said in a tone that was perfectly reasonable and words that sounded like they should be spat.
“I hope you will be very happy together,” Arabella said with a frosty smile and moved away, melting into the crowd.
Chapter 5
Arabella took deep breaths as soon as she felt that the gathered guests obscured her from the eyes of the duke. Her heart hammered in her chest and she felt as though every breath were ragged. It had taken a supreme effort to hide the emotion from him as they walked the length of the Long Hall. She hoped that she had succeeded.
The thought that he might have seen how…excited she had become in his presence was too much to bear. He had seemed out of sorts when she had arrived with Simon, though Arabella did not know why. At first, she took his responses for coldness. But when they were alone, he had almost seemed to be flirting with her. That had surprised her so much she felt she had become colder towards him, herself.
“Are you quite well, Lady Arabella?” Charlotte Devries said.
Arabella stopped as her friend appeared. Charlotte was of an age with Arabella, though raven dark compared to Arabella’s muted fire. Charlotte had recently married the youngest son of the Duke of Chichester, becoming Viscountess Mallenhall. That had been an elevation for the eldest daughter of an Earl but Charlotte had not changed.
She was warm and motherly, as she had always been. A calm influence when Arabella’s instinct was to run or rage. Now, her dark eyes were round with concern and she delicately touched Arabella’s hand. Not enough to overstep propriety, Charlotte had always revered the rules of society.
“Charlotte…forgive me, Lady Mallenhall,” Arabella said.
Charlotte gave her a warm smile of approval at her self-correction.
“Yes, I am quite well. I have just escorted the Duke of Ashenwood to my sister’s side and now go to find my own betrothed.”
“I shall walk with you, if I may?” Charlotte said.
Arabella smiled back, always glad of Charlotte’s company. She could be a little formal at times, especially on formal occasions, but usually thawed out enough to remember their old friendship.
“I saw Lord Edgeworth deep in conversation with Lord Harlton,” Charlotte said.
“Yes, he said he was going to talk with Harlton,” Arabella replied.
Charlotte steered her across the room, presumably in the last direction that she had seen Edgeworth.
“They seemed very intent on whatever they were discussing,” Charlotte said with a dainty frown on her round face.
“Maybe Simon has gotten cold feet,” Arabella said.
