Page 41 of A Virgin for His Grace
Arabella's stomach clenched with sudden dread, whilst Livia's expression grew anxious at this unexpected development.
"What manner of rumours?" Livia asked hesitantly.
Devon's jaw tightened with barely suppressed anger as he considered his response. "Nothing specific, merely the sort of speculation that inevitably surrounds any young lady who achieves rapid social success. Some wonder about the circumstances that led to your sudden emergence into societyafter years of seclusion."
"But surely such curiosity is natural," Arabella observed, though she suspected there was more to his concerns than he was revealing.
"Natural, perhaps, but potentially damaging if left unchecked," Devon replied with grim precision. "I have also heard whispers about Miss Greystone's position in this household, suggestions that her... influence over both my sister and myself might extend beyond purely professional bounds."
The delicate reference to the gossip surrounding their relationship made Arabella's cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger. Despite their careful maintenance of proper boundaries in public, it seemed that society's appetite for scandal had seized upon even the most innocent interactions between them.
"How dare they," Livia said with surprising vehemence. "Arabella has been nothing but the most proper and devoted companion. Anyone who suggests otherwise is motivated by jealousy and spite."
"I agree entirely," Devon said with cold fury. "Which is why we must be even more circumspect in our public behaviour. Any hint of impropriety, any suggestion that Miss Greystone's position here is motivated by considerations other than her excellent qualifications, could destroy everything we have worked to achieve."
The warning was clearly directed at both of them, yet Arabella felt the particular weight of his gaze as he spoke. Theirnewfound emotional intimacy, their whispered confessions of love and fear, had to remain completely hidden from public view lest they provide ammunition for society's scandal-mongers.
"Of course," she said with careful composure, though her heart ached at the necessity of such concealment. "I shall be particularly mindful of maintaining appropriate distance in all our public interactions."
Something flickered across Devon's features at her formal response; pain, perhaps, or frustration at the barriers that society insisted upon maintaining between them.
"I regret the necessity of such caution," he said quietly. "But too much depends upon preserving both reputations for us to risk any appearance of impropriety."
"I understand perfectly, Your Grace," Arabella replied with matching formality, though the use of his title felt like a betrayal of the intimacy they had shared the previous evening.
"There is another matter," Devon continued, his expression growing even more grave. "Lord Huxley approached me at my club yesterday with some rather pointed observations about the nature of Miss Greystone's residence here."
Arabella felt ice settle in her stomach at this revelation. Lord Huxley, husband to the spiteful gossip who had been so thoroughly set down at Lady Worthington's soirée, was clearly seeking revenge for his wife's public humiliation.
"What manner of observations?" she asked, though she dreaded his answer.
"He suggested," Devon said with dangerous quiet, "that a gentleman of honour would not allow a lady of breeding to remain in such compromising circumstances indefinitely. He implied that my continued failure to regularize Miss Greystone's position through marriage raised questions about both our characters."
The words struck Arabella like physical blows, and she found herself gripping the arms of her chair to maintain her composure. Here was society's ultimatum delivered with characteristic cruelty; marry or be cast out in disgrace.
"I see," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "And what response did you make to such observations?"
Devon's smile was sharp as a blade. "I informed Lord Huxley that Miss Greystone's position in this household was both honourable and permanent, requiring no further justification to satisfy the curiosity of those with nothing better to occupy their time."
"But that will only fuel further speculation," Livia protested with obvious distress. "They will say that Arabella is... that you are..."
She trailed off, unable to voice the crude implications that would inevitably follow such a public declaration.
"Let them say what they will," Devon replied with cold indifference. "I have no intention of allowing society's prurient curiosity to dictate the arrangements of my private household."
His fierce defense of her position sent warmth floodingthrough Arabella's chest, even as she recognized the impossible situation they now faced. Devon's refusal to bow to social pressure would only intensify speculation about their relationship, making their actual feelings all the more dangerous to acknowledge.
"Your Grace," she said quietly, "perhaps it would be best if I sought employment elsewhere. My continued presence here clearly places both Lady Livia and you in an untenable position."
"No." The single word was delivered with such vehement authority that both women started in surprise. "You will not leave, Arabella. I shall not permit society's malicious gossip to drive you from your home."
The possessive declaration sent shivers racing down Arabella's spine. "But surely you must see that my remaining here can only make matters worse? The longer I stay, the more convinced they will become that there is truth to their suspicions."
"Then perhaps," Devon said with sudden intensity, moving closer until he loomed over her chair, "we should give them something real to talk about."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication and desperate longing. For a moment, the careful barriers they had constructed around their relationship seemed to dissolve entirely, leaving only the raw truth of their mutual desire.
"Devon," Livia said uncertainly, clearly sensing the charged atmosphere but unable to interpret its significance. "What doyou mean?"
