Page 61 of The Duke Who Loved a Widow
“I shall ask you again to stand aside. I am a gentleman, but I am prepared to forcibly remove you if you do not listen to what I am saying.”
“It’s just a game you’re playing,” she simpered. “You’ll change your mind very soon.”
He stood alone, staring at her in disdain. Rosalind was surely delusional.
He saw a shape moving out of the corner of his eye and looked up the hill to the track leading towards the village.
Of all the ...
It was Arabella running in the opposite direction.
Arabella … his heart cried in despair.
She must have seen what would have looked like a romantic clinch, perhaps even a loving embrace, when looked at from a distance.
Stepping around Rosalind, he walked away without a second glance.
“Robert,” he heard a cry as he continued walking forward.
He’d spent a special time with Arabella, walking by the lake, when he’d felt they were both recognizing the feelings they felt for each other. She’d been able to confide in him about the possibility of Henry being taken away.
They were learning about each other after a stormy start, and now the scheming Rosalind had potentially ruined their fledgling love and the trust Arabella had placed in him.
Chapter 20
Next morning, Arabella awoke with a headache and feeling very out of sorts. She’d found it hard to sleep and only drifted off eventually after tossing and turning for hours. Before going to bed, she’d spent a long time staring out the window at the starry sky above.
I need to remember that I am a mother. I’m no longer a young slip of a girl looking for love; those days are past me now.
The trouble was that she’d been caught up in a fledgling romance. Her attention had been caught by the Duke of Montbury. When he’d spoken those words to her during the evening at the Beehive Tavern, she had felt like that young girl again; her mind and body had responded in a way she recognized as love. She had spent almost two years remembering Edward and treasuring their memories. She knew exactly how she had felt in their first days of love. The same feelings she recognized for the duke.
Yesterday, she had felt so close to him as they walked next to the lake.
I believed him. I believed every word he said to me. I trusted that he would help me with the case Christopher haslodged against me. I felt that stirring, that closeness, and it felt right.
For a moment it had felt sublime. She’d left the lake with a skip in her step and taken the longer route home, enjoying the sun shining on her face.
She’d seen him on the other path, which led back to the castle. She’d been about to call and wave when she’d stopped, frozen at the sight of another figure joining him. Arabella knew she felt wary around The Duchess of Wyndale.
The duchess had made her dislike of her very clear indeed. The Duchess of Wyndale was engaged to Robert’s brother Simon, so Arabella couldn't understand why the duchess had such antipathy towards her.
Her heart had almost stopped beating when she saw them fall into each other’s arms. She had been rooted to the spot, staring at the duke holding the duchess in his arms.
As her body unfroze, and she could feel her legs again, she turned away and began to walk quickly back to Horton Hall. As she raced up the hill towards the path to the village, she broke into a run. She felt the breeze against her skin, ignoring the tears streaming down her face, totally unaware that she had let out a loud, keening scream.
She only realized when she heard the noise and realized it was coming out of her mouth. A loud, desperate cry of grief and loss. The cumulation of months of continual anxiety about Christopher Farrington and the end of hope of a new love with the duke.
She’d pleaded a headache and retired to her room. She’d gone to read to Henry, knowing that it would settle him for the night.
Tabitha … I’d forgotten all about the cottage. I wish her all happiness, but what on earth am I going to do without her?
Last night, Arabella had felt as if the whole world was crashing down on her shoulders. She wanted to curl up in a tight ball and shut out the emotional tumult of the day.
This morning, she felt distant, further away from her feelings. A barrier had formed between her and the world, giving her space to grieve for lost hope.
The barrier she had built didn’t last long. She breakfasted in her room on a tray, then made her way down to a small sitting room to occupy herself with some sewing. She could lose herself darning holes in Henry’s play clothes.
Following a tap on the door, it opened, and Aunt Grace’s head appeared, tentatively asking if she could join her. Arabellanodded; she wanted to be alone, but she knew her aunt meant well.
