Page 53 of The Duke Who Loved a Widow
“Thank you. I will continue to be polite, but I draw the line at dancing with The Duchess of Wyndale.”
Arabella stopped walking, staring towards the far side of the village green, her face ashen, drained of all colour.
“Henry. Where’s Henry?” she called frantically.
He placed his hand on her arm. “He’s there. I can see him. He’s with Mr Brown and Judd from Horton Hall. He’s quite safe.”
She sighed and clutched his arm for support.
“Lady Farrington, please don’t faint. I don’t believe you are the swooning type, and this muddy grass is not the place to start having the vapours,” he said with a smile.
She returned his smile, some colour returning to her cheeks.
“Now, please tell me what just happened?” he urged.
“I thought that I saw Christopher Farrington over there. It probably wasn’t him, but something about the way the man walked drew my attention. I panicked that he had come to take Henry away,” explained Arabella.
“Come, you look to be in a state of shock, and a drink of lemonade will refresh you. There’s a stall over there, run by the tavern. You can sit down and regain composure,” he said.
He ushered her to a seat in the shade of a large tree.
“It must have been my imagination. I need to get my fear of Christopher Farrington into perspective,” said Arabella.
“If he was here, then he is long gone. Look, Henry is coming to find you,” replied Robert.
She felt tears welling up and took the handkerchief Robert offered to dry her eyes.
At that moment, Henry appeared, and she hugged him close.
“You look tired, Mama. I wanted to show you the archery, but I can sit here with you instead,” said Henry.
“I’m just a little tired, and this lemonade that Lord Robert brought me is exactly what I need. Shall we all go and try archery?” suggested Arabella.
“I always enjoy archery. That might be because I always win,” said Robert, grinning.
“I’m sure Henry is a natural as he knows all the stories of Robin Hood. You may be surprised today,” replied Arabella.
“You can be Lady Marian, Mama. Who do you want to be, Lord Robert?” Henry asked.
“Well, if you’re Robin Hood, I guess I should be the Sheriff of Nottingham,” answered Robert.
On the way to the archery, Henry turned to look at Arabella and asked, “Can I go to the midsummer ball, Mama?”
“Of course not, Henry; you’re far too young,” Arabella told him.
“I didn’t mean to dance. I’d just like to be there and listen to the music. Freddy’s mama said I could sleep in the nursery at the castle. Tabitha could come too, though Freddy has a nanny. Can I, Mama? Please say yes,” pleaded Henry.
“How can I say no with the host of the ball walking next to me?” She laughed.
“The Sheriff of Nottingham, you mean? I’m not sure the sheriff will let Maid Marian leave the castle,” said Robert with an evil grin.
“Oh, I’ll be fine. I have Robin of Sherwood Forest to protect me,” replied Arabella.
A heat haze hung over the fields, and the late evening midsummer sun shone through the leaves of the trees, illuminating the track from Horton Hall to the village.
They walked together for the second time that day: Arabella, Grace, Emma, Joseph, and Tabitha, along with the house and ground staff who wanted to attend the evening entertainment at the Beehive Tavern.
Thomas Fanshaw, the landlord, and Mabel, his wife, had let it be known that they had put extra special effort into creating a community evening.
