“Oh,” she sighed, completely oblivious now to her surroundings, her proprietary, to everything she had held of such importance just moments ago - now, nothing mattered by the feeling of the Duke, who was causing sensations in her she had never before experienced.
She came to a climax with a cry, and Andrew came suddenly to his senses. Stop! Came the warning from his conscience. You are not your brother.
That did it. With reluctance, he stepped back and took her hands as they fell from his neck, not wishing her to think he intended to leave her after what he guessed to be likely her first kiss, let alone the passion that followed.
“My dear Miss Marley – Arabella,” he murmured, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands. “I must beg your forgiveness. I should not have taken such advantage. You enchant me in a way that I cannot explain and I was far too forward.”
Her eyes, lit by moonlight, were heady with pleasure and, were the sun high in the sky, Andrew was sure her cheeks would be pink.
“There is no need to apologize, Your Grace,” she replied. “It was I who invited you under this arbor and off the path, knowing what it might hold for me. I must thank you for your concern to… to keep certain things intact.”
He brought her close and gave her one last chaste kiss.
“We must continue,” he said, once more looping her hand under his arm. “You have, ahem, that reputation of yours to protect, and I would not like to upset your father either. Perhaps he is looking for you.”
To his very great surprise, Arabella gave a harsh laugh. "I very much doubt that, Your Grace," she muttered, walking alongside him. "Although I do thank you for your consideration."
He looked down at her, wondering at her response. Apparently, there was more to her relationship with her father than first met the eye. "You think he does not care much about you?”
“I know he does not.” Sighing, she shook her head. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I should not speak so openly.”
"Not at all," he replied, softly. "You must know that I care for you, Miss Marley. It brings me pain to see you distressed."
There was a short silence, while she considered his words. “From what I had heard of your reputation, Your Grace, I must confess myself a little surprised to hear such sentiments from your lips.”
Remembering that he was meant to be his brother, Andrew gave her a tight smile, relieved that she could not see the deep frown on his face. “Perhaps you are the one who has changed me, Arabella.”
Walking back towards the gathered crowd, Andrew ensured he stayed close to Miss Marley, eventually finding her father, who had been imbibing more than a little liquor. The look of disgust on Arabella’s face made his heart swell with sympathy for her.
“Ah, you have returned,” her father murmured, lifting a glass to his lips. “I thought I had lost you.”
“No, Papa, you did not,” Arabella replied, firmly. “Although, perhaps we should return home. After all, it is quite late.”
Her father laughed uproariously, shaking his head. "Ashamed of me, are you? Well, that comes as no surprise, my dear." Taking another large swig of whatever it was in the glass, he turned to Andrew. "And you, Your Grace. I do hope you have not been attempting to seduce my daughter, for I must warn you she is not all that she appears!" He gave a hearty wink. "Is that not so, my dear?”
Before he had a chance to ask what it was the man meant, Arabella had taken his arm and practically dragged him away, her face full of embarrassment.
“I am terribly sorry,” she said, her eyes filled with a sheen of tears. “Please, do not listen to him. I am so incredibly ashamed.”
His mind refusing to let go of what the man had meant, Andrew tried to focus on the sadness he saw in her eyes, lifting her chin again with one finger.
“Think nothing more of it, my dear Arabella,” he murmured, glad that they had found a quiet area of the gardens. “Are you quite well?”
She straightened her shoulders, blinked a few times and gave a sharp nod. “Unfortunately, this is something I have become used to,” she replied, honestly. “In the morning, he will forget what it is he has done, and then I shall be left to explain it all to him." Her voice trailed off, as though she had done that very thing many times before.
Andrew's sympathy for her arose anew. "Then I shall ensure tonight you have the very best of evenings," he promised, gently caressing her cheek. "And then I shall escort you home without your father if he is not to be found." He smiled lightly. "Do not fear, Arabella. You will not be without a friend tonight."
* * *
It was not until the early hours of the morning that Andrew finally reached the front door of his brother’s home. Stumbling inside, utterly exhausted, he threw his hat and gloves down before making his way to his rooms. He had ordered the staff to stay abed, refusing to force them to wait up for him as he was sure William would do. It was a little more difficult to remove his clothing without the aid of his valet, but soon Andrew was tucked up in bed, ready for a good few hours of sleep.
However, his mind refused to allow him such a pleasure. Instead, all he could remember was the feeling of Arabella’s lips against his own, coupled with the words of her father in his ear – “she is not all that she appears.” Whatever did that mean? Had Arabella pulled him from her father out of embarrassment or because he was going to reveal something about her true reason in her forming an attachment with him? Groaning, Andrew rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. It had been she who had drawn him into the arbor, kissing him first, knowing the Duke’s reputation. Was there any truth in what her father had said?
The thought refused to leave him, keeping him awake until the first fingers of dawn began to spread across the sky.
9
“Papa, I cannot do it!”
His face was bright red with rage. “You can, and you will.”
Taking a shuddering breath, Arabella lifted her chin. “No, papa. I will not. I care about him too much to continue deceiving him.”
Out of nowhere, his hand slapped her hard across the face, throwing her against the cushions. “You will do as I tell you!”
Her face stinging, Arabella slowly got to her feet, clinging to the back of the chaise lounge as her feet threatened to give way. "Papa, I will not. You may beat me until I am black and blue or may threaten me with marriage to whichever of your friends or relations you choose, but I will not continue with this charade. I will not steal something that you lost in a game of cards, simply because you believe the Duke to have been cheating."
“He was cheating!” her father roared, spittle flying from his mouth. His hand reached for her again, but Arabella scuttled to the door, keeping distance between them.
"Regardless, this is your issue and not mine," she said, breathlessly. She could feel something warm and wet trickling from the side of her mouth and tasted blood. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and change for the Duke’s soiree this evening. It would not do to be late.”
Seeing her father angrier than he had ever been before, Arabella practically ran down the corridor and along to her room, slamming the bedroom door closed behind her. Breathing hard, she sagged against the door, sinking down to the floor before giving in to the tears that pricked at her eyes.
Great, heaving sobs shook her entire frame, both from relief and fear. No longer would she be held over her father’s demands to obey, but there would be consequences, that was for sure. Her chin lifted. Perhaps she should simply throw herself on the mercy of the Duke. He cared for her – or at least, he had stated as much. She knew now that she had lost her heart to him, unable to remove the memory of his gentle kisses in Vauxhall gardens. Whether he would help her or not she could not say for sure, but she would not sit here and simply allow her father to manage the rest of her life. She would not marry someone simply because her father thought it best. No, she would take her chances with the Duke.
“Miss?”
Arabella scrambled to her feet, opening the door slig
htly to let the maid enter before swiftly closing it and locking it again.
* * *
“I’m to help you with – oh!”
Despite the pain, Arabella tried to smile, knowing it would be all round the servants by the time the maid reached the bottom of the servant's stairs. "Might you arrange my hair, please?" She moved to sit in her chair by the dressing table, hoping the maid would not comment further.
“Of course, miss,” the maid murmured, carefully beginning to brush Arabella’s hair. “And perhaps we can cover what might be a slight bruise?”
Pressing her lips together, Arabella nodded. It would not do for the Duke to see what had happened, even if she did intend to ask him for his help – although what help he could give to an unmarried lady, still living in her father’s house, she was not quite sure.
* * *
“Is everything ready?” Andrew asked, anxiously. Some of his guests had already begun to arrive, and there was already someone at the piano, and someone else setting up a game of cards. “Refreshments and the like?”
“Yes, my lord,” the butler murmured, hiding a smile. “All is well. I will ensure you are aware if there are any difficulties in regards to refreshments, of course.”
“Thank you.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “And there are no new letters? No notes?”
The butler shook his head. “None, my lord.”
“I see. Thank you.” Turning away, Andrew slipped into a corner of the room, his heart suddenly heavy. He had done everything in his power to help sort out some of his brother’s affairs, in order to find out who the threatening notes were coming from, but it seemed to be of no avail. At least society at large would be a little more at ease with having the Duke back in their midst, now that he had settled a great deal of money on some of the gentlemen his brother had wronged, but that would leave Andrew with the almost insurmountable task of attempting to get his brother to change his ways.
On top of all this, there was the constant nagging worry over the last note he had received. The writer knew that the Duke had left town – which was not surprising since some had noticed his absence, but how they knew he was in Scotland was quite out of Andrew's understanding. He had written to his brother almost immediately but had not received a response as yet. That in itself did not concern him, for Andrew knew his brother was often late with his, or any responses, but still, it worried him. Then there was the mess he'd got himself into pretending to Miss Marley that he was his brother, as well as wondering what it was her father had meant….it was all so confusing.
Andrew dropped his head into his hands for a moment, groaning quietly to himself. His heart was already tangled up with Miss Marley, and he was already wondering if this was the first stirrings of love. He had not loved before and so was quite unused to feeling such strong emotions every time he thought of the lady. The lady who thought he was the Duke of Elenford. The lady who might be hiding a secret of her own.
Well, at least he could bring one truth to light. His jaw clenched as he thought of how best to explain himself to her, hoping desperately that she would not turn from him altogether. He would have to tell her the truth – that he was sure he was in love with her already, but that he had been keeping up his impersonation of his brother simply because he was afraid that, should she find out the truth, she would turn away from him forever and that thought had him quailing with fear. He would look deeply into her eyes, and promise her that he had meant no harm. Over and over, he would beg for her forgiveness, promising her that he was exactly the man she had come to know, only with a slightly lesser title. He would offer marriage if she would accept it, for he knew he had shown her distinct favor by calling upon her so many times. Were society aware of his many calls, they would by now be expecting some kind of betrothal announcement! Andrew was glad that he had been able to keep his attentions towards Miss Marley – towards Arabella – so discreet. There were times when he appreciated his lack of interest in society, and it’s lack of interest in him.
Guilt and frustration raced through him. If only he had been honest with her from the start, then he might never have found himself in such a predicament. They might have carried along quite at ease with one another, and he would have proposed marriage and she would have accepted immediately. Now, however, Andrew felt as though he were looking into the mouth of a long, dark tunnel, with little knowledge of where it would lead, or if he would ever be able to find his way out. He simply had to hope that she would take his proffered hand and lead him towards a happy conclusion for them both. His future lay in her hands.
Jerking away from the wall, Andrew turned towards his guests, only to hear Arabella’s name being announced. Spinning around to face her, he drew in a long breath. She was a vision. Dressed in a delicate gown of light teal which seemed to shimmer as she moved, Arabella walked into the room with a light smile on her face. A large tendril covered one side of her face, close to her eye, with the rest of her hair coiled neatly in an ornate style. Andrew felt his heart stop beating for just a moment, only to slam into his chest again and again as she walked towards him.
“Miss Marley,” he breathed, remembering just in time not to use her given name in front of company. “May I say how lovely you look this evening? My heart is quite lost.”
She smiled at him, but there was a slight tremor to her lips that made him frown.
“Might I have a word with you in private at some point, Your Grace?” she murmured, looking slightly abashed. “I know it is quite unorthodox but – ”
“Of course,” Andrew replied at once, reassuring her. “My brother’s – my study is down the hall to your left. I shall join you as soon as I can.”
She nodded, giving him another quick smile before departing from his side. Wondering what it was she wished to speak to him about so urgently, he turned back to his guests, attempting to put a smile on his face. He would have to remain here for some time until his guests would not notice him slipping away to Arabella.
10
Arabella found the study easily, guided by one of the footmen who did not ask what it was she was doing going into the Duke’s study. Flames lit her cheeks. Perhaps it was not unusual for him to have assignations there.
Sitting down beside the small fire that burned in the grate, Arabella tried not to wonder where the Marley necklace might be. She refused to even think of searching for it, despite her father’s repeated insistence that she do so. It wasn’t that she did not consider it important, for it was a family heirloom and one day had been intended for her, but it was her father’s actions that had led to its loss. She would not steal it back from the Duke. Reflecting on what she was to say to him, Arabella smiled gently to herself as she thought about the Duke's reputation. It was strange how little he lived up to what society said of him. Mayhap those rumors were exactly that – rumors. When she had gone to kiss him, only for him to step back, she had been more than astonished, having expected him to take full advantage of what she was offering. It was as if he needed to ensure that this was exactly what she wanted, as though considering the consequences of such an act. In short, Arabella was quite sure the Duke cared for her as he had stated, choosing to believe him over what society said. Her heart fluttered every time she saw the man, and now that she had stood up to her father, she would not allow herself to hold back her emotions any longer. Her heart was full of the Duke of Elenford. He stirred up feelings of love in her soul, to the point that she would dream about him at night and never get him from her thoughts in the day. Hoping he would listen to the truth of what she had to say, and not reject her for it, Arabella clung to what she knew of the man. He was honest, and trustworthy, and would surely not turn down her request for help to escape the wrath of her father. If he cared for her as he said he did, then Arabella was sure he would assist her in whatever way he could.
* * *
“Arabella!”
Startled, Arabella jerked in her seat, flushing crimson as she realized she had fallen asleep, w
aiting for the Duke.
“I am terribly sorry for keeping you waiting so long,” he continued, coming to sit down next to her. “My guests were very keen to keep me in conversation for as long as possible!”
In truth, his friends had all been interested in the whereabouts of his brother, laughing when they heard that Andrew had sent him away “for his own good.” It was just as well Arabella had requested to speak with him, for otherwise he would have had to take her aside and tell her the truth about his identity almost the moment she arrived.
“Not at all,” Arabella murmured, hoping he had not noticed she had fallen into such a deep sleep. “Forgive me for taking you from your guests.”
He smiled, leaning forward and taking her hand. "Not at all, Arabella. I could not wait to be by your side." He glanced behind him, drawing her attention to the footman who stood by the open door. "I hope you do not mind, my dear. Your reputation, of course."
Grateful that he had thought of such a thing, Arabella smiled and nodded. The footman was far enough away for him not to overhear what she had to say, although her stomach twisted as she thought about the Duke’s possible reaction to what she was to tell him. She only hoped he would not fly into a rage when he heard what her initial intention had been.
“You had something you wished to share with me?”
Swallowing her nerves, Arabella nodded. “Indeed, Elenford. In short, I have come to ask for your assistance with my father.”
She saw his frown and the way his eyes darkened. Clearly, he had not forgotten her father's terrible behavior at Vauxhall.
“My father has been threatening me to do something which is a criminal act.”
“What?” he asked, his eyes widening. “How could he do such a thing?”
Unmasking a Duke_A Regency Romance Page 4
