Arabella swallowed hard, refusing to let herself cry. “He is pushing me to do this, otherwise he will force me into marriage with someone I despise.”
Dropping her head, she tried to carry on. “He has, on occasion, been a little violent and I am distressed to say I have grown fearful of his actions.”
To her very great surprise, the Duke stormed to his feet, walking to the door, and dismissing the footman. He then slammed the door with such strength that it made Arabella jump, staring at the Duke with wide eyes. Whatever was he intending to do? She watched him pace for a moment, before coming back to sit with her, his face now a mottled red. With great deliberation, he pushed back the large tendril of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, his mouth thinning. Arabella knew he could see the faint outline of the bruise on her cheek, despite her maid's attempt to cover it.
“How dare he do such a thing?” the Duke breathed, his voice filled with rage. “Threaten his only daughter?”
"As you say," Arabella replied, taking his hand in her own trembling fingers. "I am his only daughter. He is quite at liberty to treat me any way he wishes."
* * *
The Duke met her eyes, his jaw tight. “And can you tell me what it was he wished you to do?”
Now she had to tell him the truth, despite what it could cost her. With a shuddering breath, Arabella closed her eyes and said the truth aloud, hoping he would not burst into another rage. “The Marley necklace.”
When there was no response, Arabella opened her eyes to find him looking at her with something of a confused expression. She shook her head. "Obviously you have won a great deal of wealth, I know, so perhaps you do not immediately recognize its name. My father played cards with you and a few other gentlemen some time ago. He put the Marley necklace on the table and subsequently lost it to you. It is a family heirloom and is valuable beyond measure. It was one day to be mine, should I be married or should my father pass away. As precious as it was, my father thought it best to gamble it away at the card table.” She shook her head, disgust filling her. “He asked me to acquaint myself with you, in order to find the necklace and steal it back.”
A great sigh of relief left her as she finished telling the Duke the truth about what her father had asked her to do, although with trepidation she looked into his eyes.
“And you did not think simply to ask me for it?” came the quiet reply.
Arabella blinked back furious tears. "I am aware of your reputation, Elenford, as was my father. He knew you would not simply return it to him, so, therefore, he pushed me into an acquaintance with you." Her cheeks flamed with heat. "I had not expected to develop such a depth of feeling for you, however. I have told my father I will not do as he asks."
To her shame, a tear fell from her eyes, which the Duke caught and brushed away. “I am very sorry for my duplicity, Your Grace,” she mumbled, as he looked deeply into her eyes. “I pray that you can forgive me and I must beg of you for help with my father.”
“Oh, Arabella,” the Duke mumbled, looking thoroughly guilt ridden. “I am the one who should be asking for your forgiveness.”
Frowning, Arabella opened her mouth to ask him what he meant – only for the door to the study to fly open. A man walked in, a man who looked remarkably like the Duke.
11
"Andrew!" the man bellowed, walking over to join the two of them. "You know better than to ensconce yourself in here with some pretty little thing! Taking after me, are we?"
Arabella stared from one to the other, thoroughly confused.
“I received your note," the man continued, "And have come with some news of my own. It appears that the malicious note writer was none other that Lord Hartington. He and his lovely daughter – one I have had cause to know in the past – came to call upon me in Scotland and, well, now it appears I am to be wed."
“Wed?” Andrew repeated, staring at his brother, all the while frantically worrying about what Arabella was thinking. “You have agreed to be married?”
William shrugged. “I had very little choice, it appears. I was caught by the lady’s father, much as I have caught you now, except perhaps, a little less formally dressed. On top of which, it appears I am to be a father in a good seven months or so.”
Sighing, he got to his feet and walked over to pour himself a brandy. “As the banns are to be read this Sunday, I felt there was no urgent need for me to remain in Scotland and returned home, ready to assume my ducal duties.”
Andrew did not know what to say, turning to see Arabella’s stunned face as the truth slowly dawned on her. “Arabella,” he choked out. “I – I did not mean….”
Scrambling to her feet, Arabella rushed from the room, her heart in her throat. She had been thoroughly deceived, realizing that the man she had fallen in love with was not the Duke, as she had thought, but rather the Duke's brother. Why had he kept this from her? Why had he not simply told her the truth of who he was? With tears blurring her vision, Arabella stumbled down the stairs, desperate to leave the house but instead finding herself out in the gardens of the town house. Rushing forward, she somehow found a small stone bench, hidden behind a few large shrubs. Sinking down heavily, she put her head in her hands and sobbed.
She did not know how long she cried for slowly, so slowly, a small tendril of guilt wound its way into her thoughts. Had she not deceived him also? It was not at all in the same fashion, but it was deceit nonetheless. Until she had fallen in love with him, her intention had been to do as her father had asked.
“Arabella?”
Her first instinct was to run, to hide herself away from him, such was the depths of her hurt, but instead, she sat still, trying to hide her still damp face from him.
“Arabella,” he said again, his voice breaking. “I am truly sorry. I intended to tell you the truth this evening, in the hope that you would still have me, but my brother returned without my knowledge.”
"But why?" she asked, still unable to look at him. "Why pretend to be your brother? Why did you not tell me the truth?" Suddenly all the carriage rides far away from Hyde Park made sense, as well as his absence from most of society’s events. He had not wished his true identity to be revealed.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head. "Because I am a foolish man," he muttered, gruffly. "I sent my brother away because he had been acting quite without discretion of late, and there was a certain threat that needed to be looked into. I lived here, intending to make reparations to those he had hurt – which I have managed, I must add – but never intended to pretend to anyone that I was the Duke himself!" His head dipped lower. "I attended the masquerade only a day after my brother took himself to Scotland, simply because I wanted to see what life was like for my brother. I have always been careful and sensible, whilst my brother has been precisely the opposite. I suppose I wished to see what it was like to be him, just for one night."
Arabella swallowed her tears, turning so that she could finally look into his face. When he raised his head, she saw regret and sorrow written into his features.
Andrew sighed heavily, wondering why he had been so much of an idiot. “I should have told you the truth of who I was the first day I called upon you,” he continued, honestly. “But I did not.”
“Why did you not?” she asked, softly.
"In truth, because I was worried you might not be interested in my attentions any longer," he replied, honestly. "I know now that you are not someone affected by titles and grandeur, but at the time…." He trailed off, hoping desperately he had not hurt her further by his words. "I was too afraid to tell you the truth, thinking that you would run from me. I could not bear that thought, Arabella, since my heart is yours." Raising his eyes to hers, he saw them sparkle with tears and pain sliced through his own heart once more. "You mean more to me than I can express, Arabella.” His voice became a whisper, as he forced himself to keep looking into her eyes, knowing that the pain he saw there was of his doing.
Arabella took a lon
g breath. "Now I can understand why my view of you and society's view was so much at odds," she said, unsmiling. "Already I believe your brother is quite different."
Andrew nodded. "I am the man you know, Arabella," he promised, hoping desperately she would believe him. "When you kissed me in the arbor, I hesitated only because I wanted you to know the truth, even though I could find no words with which to say it. I long for you, Arabella. After what you have told me of your father, I want to take you away from him almost this very night!" His voice rose in fervency, surprising even himself. "Despite my dishonesty, I beg of you not to turn from me. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, to believe that I am the same as I have always been, even from the very first moment we met, then I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up to you for what I did."
* * *
Arabella stared at Andrew in astonishment. “You – you wish to marry me?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.
He dropped his head into his hands once more, before looking up at her. "It is not the best of proposals, I admit," he said, softly. "Once more, I cannot find the right words to say." Reaching across, he took her hand in his, glad that she didn't immediately pull back. "But yes, Arabella. I wish to make you my wife if you will have me."
Struggling to get her breath, Arabella wavered for a moment. She wanted desperately to say yes, to let him sweep her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless, but still, she held herself back. "You are not saying this as a way of an apology?" she asked, needing to be sure of his motives. "I would not be your wife simply because you feel guilty over your deception."
“No, Arabella,” he replied at once, inching closer to her. His hand reached out and cupped her cheek, wiping the dampness from it with his thumb. “I have fallen in love with you, my dear one. My heart is entirely yours. I dream of you at night, remembering the softness of your lips against mine, the feel of you under my fingers, remembering your smile and your laughter. I imagine our future together, with you standing by my side. I love you deeply, Arabella. I believe I fell for you from the first moment I saw you.” His lips twisted into a slightly rueful smile. “Even if it was from behind a mask.”
Arabella sighed happily, the pain of his deception slowly ebbing away. In truth, she had no right to hold such a thing against him, given what she herself had been attempting to do. It was only because she loved him that she had told him the truth and now, finally, he had revealed all to her.
“I must be honest with you too, my lord, and tell you that I have fallen in love with you also.”
“Andrew,” he murmured, leaning closer. “You do not know how long I have waited to hear my name on your lips.”
Her toes curled as she whispered his name, love shining in her eyes as she flung herself into his arms, allowing all the emotion she had held so tightly to her chest release into him. Her lips sought his, and soon were captured as with the pent-up passion they had both held. He tumbled her backwards on the grass between the intricate shrubbery which hid them from view as she giggled with happiness.
Their kiss grew deeper and hungrier, as she ran her hands through the dark locks that had fallen over his forehead. Her legs drew up on either side of him as he came up to breathe.
“Arabella, my darling,” he said. “If this goes any further I will ruin you.”
She smiled in her sweet way and said, “If you ruin me, my lord, then you will have to marry me.”
“Then you will marry me, Arabella?” came his quiet whisper.
She smiled up at him, happiness and contentment in her heart. "Yes, Andrew, I would love nothing more than to be your wife."
There were forgiveness and healing in their lovemaking, as they promised one another a future together and he made her his wife in nearly all ways. He held her tightly as he entered her for the first time, and rode the waves of pain into pleasure with her. She cried tears of joy as they lay together afterwards with him holding her against his chest, pressing his lips to her temple.
Finally, Arabella would be taken from her cruel father and secured beside her husband, a man who loved her and whom she loved in return. What had started out as a masked deceit, had ended with a love she had never known before. She could not wait to become his wife.
Epilogue
Arabella sat in front of the mirror as her maid twisted her locks in an intricate design. She could hardly believe her wedding day had finally arrived. It was only a short month, but the time had seemed to stretch as she slept just doors away from Andrew. While certainly his brother would not be one to judge a premarital affair, she hadn’t wanted the staff to talk.
After Andrew had come to realize the way her father had treated her, he stormed to her home and demanded all of her belongings be removed to the Duke’s home. There, he said, they would both stay until the day they were wed and would move to his home.
There was a soft tap at the door and it slowly eased open.
“Andrew!” Arabella exclaimed. “You’re not to see me before the ceremony!”
“We don’t do everything properly around here, now do we sweetheart?” he asked. “If you would excuse us, Mary, I have a gift for my bride.”
He held open the door for the maid as she discreetly slipped into the hall.
“Now dearest,” he said, turning her back to face the mirror. “There is something I felt you must wear on your wedding day.”
Arabella gasped as he slipped the Marley necklace around her neck.
“Oh Andrew, I no longer care about…”
“Shh love,” he said, nuzzling the soft skin beside where the necklace lay. “My brother was more than happy to return it in exchange for the many grievances I saved him from while he was away. It seems marriage has softened him some. He only made me promise to ensure that it never returned to the hands of your father. So this, my darling, is where it belongs.”
She turned to him and placed a hand on his chest.
“Thank you Andrew, for everything,” she said.
“Don’t thank me,” he said. “Just promise to love me, for better or worse, from this day forward.”
“I do,” she replied.
More From Ellie St. Clair
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ALSO BY ELLIE ST. CLAIR
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About the Author
Ellie has always loved reading, writing, and history. For many years she has written short stories, non-fiction, and has worked on her true love and passion -- romance novels.
In every era there is the chance for romance, and Ellie enjoys exploring many different time periods, cultures, and geographic locations. No matter when or where, love can always prevail. She has a particular soft spot for the bad boys of history, and loves a strong heroine in her stories.
She enjoys walks under the stars with her own prince charming, as well as spending time at the lake with her children, and running with her Husky/Border Collie cross.
www.prairielilypress.com/ellie-st-clair
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