by Piper Stone
Mr. Standen gently pushed her off his lap and helped her stand. Arabella, overwhelmed by a torrent of sensation and emotion, stumbled over her skirts. Mr. Standen caught her in his arms and sat down on the chair again, holding her upright on his knee. Arabella cringed, her sore bottom pressing against Mr. Standen’s hard thighs.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his chest.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are right, sir. I have been selfish and foolish, defying my parents without even considering their plans for my future, and putting myself at risk by running away. I am very sorry.”
Mr. Standen dropped a kiss on her hair. “You are forgiven, Kitten. You took your punishment very well, and I am proud of you.”
Arabella burrowed against him, secure in his strong arms.
Chapter 5
Mr. Standen sent Arabella to her room for a rest before dinner. Arabella, worn out by the events of the day, gratefully obeyed. She awoke several hours later to find a maid waiting to assist her with bathing and dressing. Arabella yawned behind her hand. “I thought the maids were stuck in the village.”
“The roads are clear, miss. We were able to get here without any trouble.”
Arabella selected the one evening dress she had packed, of white muslin with silver embroidery on the bodice. The maid dressed her hair high on her head, loosening several curls to frame her face. She went down to dinner with her head held high, while her insides quailed. Their previous meeting had been fraught with dangerous emotions as Arabella had yielded to Mr. Standen’s discipline. She felt shy about meeting with him again.
Mr. Standen waited for her in the parlor. She accepted a glass of sherry, and he made pleasant conversation about the weather and the surrounding countryside. They went into dinner soon afterward, sitting down to beef consommé, roasted beef and vegetables, and a delicious Yorkshire pudding. Her host kept up a gentle flow of conversation as Arabella tried to eat, nearly overwhelmed by her conflicted feelings. Dessert was a ginger cake with a brandy sauce. The scent of the ginger made her blush. Once Arabella finished her meal, Mr. Standen flung down his napkin and motioned to the waiting footman.
“Please give Mrs. Briggs my compliments and tell her how much I enjoyed the ginger cake.” He gave Arabella a wicked grin that left her in no doubt of his meaning. “It’s quite my favorite flavor.”
Arabella’s temper flared at his taunt, her cheeks flushing.
“I am teasing you, Kitten. Don’t be angry.”
Further conversation was cut short by the sound of horses outside, followed by a muffled shout that sounded curiously familiar. She rose and ran over to the window, which overlooked the front drive, and gasped. “Oh, heavens! It’s my brother, Rupert. Mama must have sent him after me. You had better leave, Mr. Standen.”
“I am not in fear of your young cub of a brother. How old is he anyway? Sixteen?”
“Nineteen. He is a year older than I. But I’m afraid he has a dreadful temper.”
Indeed, Rupert was already scowling as he threw his reins to the groom, who had come out to meet him.
“Arabella, go upstairs. I will take of this.”
“I suppose you can’t hide me.”
“No, Kitten, I can’t do that. It’s time you returned home.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it. I thought you understood how I felt.”
“I do, but it makes no difference. We both know a young woman cannot careen unprotected around the country. You will be safe with your brother, and he will return you to your home.” His voice softened. “Consider how worried your mama must be.”
Arabella sighed. “Of course, you are right. But it has been a lovely adventure, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, it has been. Now, go upstairs, and let me speak to your brother.”
Rupert Linton cursed under his breath as he made his way to the front door. After tracking Arabella to that moldering inn, he had scoured every road for five miles around, searching for his missing sister. Why had the silly girl run away in the first place? Sisters, missish and contrary – all of them. But Mama had insisted. If one of the family located Arabella, the impending scandal might be scotched. Mama had somehow managed to get the Duke of Rothley to propose. His wealth and influence could be the saving of all of them.
Rupert knocked loudly on the front door. He was cold and tired and very close to the end of his temper. The large oak door swung open.
“I beg your pardon,” he began, “but I am looking for a young woman, lost in the storm.”
“Please, come in.” The fellow answering the door was tall and well built. He looked like he could go for a few rounds in the ring. “I believe you must be Mr. Linton.”
Rupert felt a surge of relief. “Arabella is here?”
“Yes, and in perfect health. I found her cold and exhausted at the scene of the stagecoach accident and escorted her to the nearest inn. I brought her here for protection until I could convey her to her home. But you have arrived in a most timely manner to escort her in my stead. Come, you must be cold and hungry. Please, take a seat by the fire and warm up, while I ring for food and drink.”
Rupert surrendered his coat and hat and followed his host, too tired to puzzle out the situation. It wasn’t until he was seated by the roaring fire, a plate of cold beef inside him, and sipping a glass of very fine brandy, that he began to realize the difficulties.
“The family is trying to avoid a scandal,” Rupert said bluntly. “You seem a gentleman, though I didn’t catch your name. I trust my sister has not been… compromised.” He tried to scowl again, but it was all rather fatiguing, tracking down errant sisters.
“My name is Standen, and your sister is as untouched as she was when left Bath. She had a private room at the inn, and was perfectly safe. As the company was rather rough, I decided to convey her home myself. The weather worsened on the road, so we took refuge here. My family owns this house.”
“Rather fortunate, sir.”
“Yes, it was,” Mr. Standen said frankly. “Your sister was most determined to keep running away.”
“Bother the girl. Females!”
“Quite so. Is this type of behavior usual for Miss Linton?”
Rupert rubbed his eyes. He was so tired. “Well, she’s always ripe for a spree. Not that I blame her, stuck in that school or at home, while the world turns on without her. That’s my mother’s doing. But Arabella is a good girl. Kind-hearted, you know, always helping with the younger ones. She’s got a temper though, there’s no denying that.”
“Yes,” Mr. Standen murmured. “I did realize that.”
“Still, no harm done. I’ll bring her home for the wedding. Problem solved. Mama will be in high spirits. It’s a difficult task to marry off your daughters with scarcely a dowry to their name.” Rupert stopped abruptly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Mr. Standen waved a hand. “Don’t give it a thought, dear boy. We are all friends here. More brandy?”
Several glasses later, Rupert was shown to a comfortable bedchamber. “You may see your sister in the morning, Mr. Linton. You must rest now.”
It did seem a good idea. It wasn’t until he had stripped off his boots and clothes and tumbled into bed, that he wondered if he should have been so forthcoming with his host. He had a hazy memory of discussing his family quite frankly, even poor Papa, with his love of gaming and the frequency of his losses. Well, Rupert comforted himself, it wasn’t as if Mr. Standen was going to marry Arabella. He seemed quite eager to send her on to her wedding with the duke. And what the duke didn’t know… Rupert yawned and snuggled into the pillows. Yes, he was sure, everything was going to work out just fine.
Arabella had finally gone to bed. She had waited for hours, but no sounds of crashing furniture or bloody battle had taken place below. Mr. Standen must have been able to reason with Rupert. That was almost a miracle in itself.
A tap on the door preceded the entrance of Mr. Standen. “May I come in?”
Arabella sat up, pulling the covers up to her chin. “Where is Rupert?”
Mr. Standen closed the door. “Safely abed. I explained the circumstances of our departure from the inn and assured him of your safety. And then, I sent him to bed. The poor lad was exhausted, having been traveling for days.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Although, it’s quite unlike Rupert to be so amenable.” She thought for a moment. “Just how much brandy did you give him?”
Mr. Standen laughed. “Enough, apparently. He’ll want to take you home tomorrow.”
“I guessed as much. I must return, I do see that, but my objection remains. I don’t wish to marry the duke.” She frowned down at her hands, clenched around the covers.
“May I point out that you haven’t even met him yet? Perhaps you should give the poor fellow a chance. He might not be as horrid as you think.”
“Poor fellow?” Arabella snorted. “He’s a bloody duke. I’m sure he could have any girl he wanted. Why in heaven’s name must he decide on me?”
“You mentioned an old betrothal?”
“What nonsense. Just because his mother and my aunt hatched some ridiculous scheme while I was still in the cradle is no excuse… Oh, bother it. I’m sick of worrying about the whole blasted mess. I will go home and try to unravel this situation.”
“Then go to sleep, my dear. I’m sure things will look much better in the morning.” Mr. Standen looked like he wanted to say something else, but then he stopped. “You look about ten years old right now, with your night cap and braids.”
Arabella grimaced, and he laughed. “That’s not a bad thing, Kitten. You look very sweet. Good night, Arabella.”
“Good night, Mr. Standen.”
Arabella set down her teacup and wiped her mouth. Rupert would be down in a moment, ready to leave. He had arrived late at the table, downed a glass of ale, and shuddered at the thought of eggs and ham. Mr. Standen had gone down to the stables to check on Rupert’s horses. They had barely exchanged a word at breakfast, both preoccupied with their thoughts.
Mr. Standen was the most puzzling man. He had touched her in the most intimate manner, and, yet, no suggestion of marriage had crossed his lips. Perhaps he was already married. Or, he didn’t consider her good enough to marry. Surely not, if a duke wanted to marry her.
The worst of thoughts occurred then. Perhaps Mr. Standen didn’t respect her enough to consider her a proper wife. Arabella had misbehaved from the outset of their acquaintance, yet Mr. Standen had protected her and kept her safe. True, he was a trifle overbearing, and he certainly seemed to enjoy spanking her, but Arabella couldn’t find it in her heart to condemn him for that. She had heartily deserved her punishment. Well, except for the ginger. She still felt hot and bothered when she remembered that episode.
“Arabella, may I speak to you for a moment in my study?”
Mr. Standen stood at the door of the dining room, tall and handsome, impeccably clad in a dark green coat and buckskin breeches.
“Of course.” She hesitated. “Unless, I am in trouble.”
His flashing smile did peculiar things to her heart. “No, Kitten. At least, not yet.”
Arabella couldn’t help smiling in return, as she accompanied him down the hall to the study.
He closed the door behind her. “There are so many things I want to say to you. I thought we had more time. But when you stand there and look at me, all I can think of is how much I want to kiss you.”
“Why don’t you?” she asked boldly.
“You are so innocent, Kitten, and so very sweet.”
Suddenly, she was in his arms, his mouth warm and urgent as it moved on hers.
A loud knocking sounded on the door. “Arabella? It’s time to leave.”
She broke away in confusion, her fingers touching her lips. It was the first time she had ever been kissed.
“Arabella, I must speak to you,” Mr. Standen demanded.
But it was too late. Rupert opened the door, looking from one to the other with suspicion. “What’s going on in here?”
Arabella forced a smile. “Nothing. I am merely saying goodbye to our host and thanking him for his help. Mr. Standen, I don’t know what would have happened if you had not come to my assistance.”
“You are entirely welcome, Miss Linton.”
Her brother hustled her down the passage, where her pelisse and bonnet awaited her, along with her valise. Rupert shook hands with their host and took her arm, leading her away to the carriage. Arabella looked over her shoulder at Mr. Standen, who remained in the doorway watching them depart. He was still standing there as Rupert cracked his whip and the horses wheeled down the drive. Arabella turned her head and furtively wiped away a tear. It was all over. She would never see him again.
Chapter 6
Rupert barely spoke to her all the way home. The weather had turned colder, freezing the roads to a hard surface that took all Rupert’s skill to navigate. They arrived at Linton Hall late the next afternoon, after spending the night at a respectable posting inn. Mama gathered Arabella in her arms, her dear face wet with happy tears.
“Dearest, you are safe. I’ve been so worried.”
“I am sorry, Mama. It was selfish of me to run away.”
“It certainly was,” Rupert muttered as he brushed past them into the hall.
“Never mind that. All is forgotten. I received a letter from the duke just an hour ago. He has obviously heard nothing of your escapade, and the wedding will continue as planned. I am so very thankful.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Now, let’s get you upstairs. Four days without a maid to dress your hair! It looks like a bird’s nest. Thank goodness, the duke hasn’t seen you like this. We leave for London tomorrow.”
Arabella made no demur, allowing Mama to tuck her into bed and ring for tea. It seemed impossible to believe, tucked away in her childhood room, that the events of the last few days had ever occurred. She had been rash and foolish, and she wouldn’t have missed a moment of it. For a short while, she had been really living – making decisions, forging her own future. And if it had all ended in disaster, well, that was part of life too. If not for Mr. Standen, even worse things could have befallen her.
The strangest thing was she missed him. She missed his smile and the glint in his blue eyes. She missed the way he took care of her. It was even possible that she missed the feel of his hand on her bottom. Not that she would ever admit that to him, if she ever had the chance. They had parted ways, probably forever.
And that thought was suddenly unbearable. Arabella remembered waking up beside him, feeling warm and safe in his arms. She remembered the flash of his teeth and the gleam of his eyes when she made him laugh. He seemed to like her too. Mr. Standen could have taken advantage of her on several occasions. She had been alone, without protection. Instead, he had saved her, cared for her.
Even his discipline had been intended for her own good, although she had fought against him just the same. Arabella sighed wistfully. He was so very handsome. She could not remember the ginger in her bottom with any affection, though it had been effective. And the feel of his fingers touching her bare skin… Arabella closed her eyes, her own hand drifting down the soft slope of her belly to the forbidden delights of her private parts. Her nanny had lectured all of them on the evils of self-pleasure and even now she felt guilty as she touched herself, imagining that it was Mr. Standen caressing her instead.
No, she should save herself for her new husband. Mr. Standen has asked that she give the duke a chance. He couldn’t feel the same way that Arabella did about him. She didn’t want another woman within a mile of him. Only Arabella should know the tenderness of his special smile and the heart-stopping excitement of his touch. He belonged to her, even if he never knew it.
But Mr. Standen had not staked a claim, despite their scandalous and intimate interactions. There was no future for the two of them. Arabella would travel to London on the morrow and do her duty. Life as a duches
s wouldn’t be all bad. Everyone had to give up their dreams some time. It was part of growing up
Once they arrived in London, events continued to gallop along. The wedding preparations were all consuming; her mother was in high spirits, and her father was in hiding at his club. Arabella escaped from the constant round of planning, deciding to take a turn in the garden before her mother drove her to Bedlam. When she had mentioned to Mama about her desire to speak to the duke before the wedding, Arabella was met with her mother’s complete lack of understanding.
“Why on earth would you do that?”
“Mama, be reasonable. I am marrying the man in a few short days, and we’ve never even met.”
“Of course, you have. You must have, over the years.”
“I haven’t. Except for being at school, I haven’t been to London in ages. We’ve spent all the holidays at home for the last few years.”
“Oh, dear. You are right, my love. Funds have been so tight, that we simply stayed at home. You were only a child the last time we spent Christmas with Aunt Jane, and Rothley was there.” Her mama’s brow wrinkled in concern. “But there isn’t time. The duke went out of town unexpectedly. He won’t be back until just before the service.”
This was terrible news. Just when Arabella had finally summoned her courage to meet her fate, she was prevented. Feeling pressured by her mother’s expectations, she allowed herself to drift along in the wake of the wedding preparations.
On the morning of her wedding day, Arabella stared at her reflection. The dress Mama had chosen was very pretty, cream satin with matching lace trimming the edge of the bodice and sleeves. Nearly ready, they were on the verge of leaving for the church, when her brother Alfred knocked on her door.
“What is it, Alfred?” her mother asked impatiently. “We are about to leave.”
“I beg your pardon, Mama, but the Duke of Rothley is below.”
