Rosalie had evidently decided she regretted her own error in ever having let him go. Her blandishments became more and more blatant ,until Blake had to pin her wrists to her sides to stop her groping him right in public.
"That is quite enough, Rosalie. I don't know what the game is, but I'm not playing."
"I'm sure you don't know what the game is, not after putting up with these pathetic women as your lovers, especially Leonore. I can show you things you've never-"
"I'm well aware what you've shown people," he said brusquely, once more evading her limpet-like grip. "But there's nothing I want to see of yours. You had your chance. You thought you got a better bargain with Stanton. End of story. I don't make the same mistakes twice."
The blonde pouted prettily. "Now don't be angry, I was young and foolish and married for status. Now I want to marry for love."
"Good luck, then. But it won't be me. I'm not the marrying kind, for one thing. Even if I were, I would have expectations of my wife in terms of character and deportment which I'm afraid you simply could not fulfill. I believe in fidelity, respect. A meeting of minds, not just bodies."
"So that little country bumpkin you've brought here meets your mind, does she?" she sneered.
"Yes, she does, actually," Blake said in an even tone, and summoned Arabella over to join them.
Her eyes widened in surprise and her stomach churned. The last thing she wanted to do was step in on an intimate conversation with the breathtakingly beautiful blonde.
Alistair saw his friend's summons, and escorted her over, ever vigilant in case he had to diffuse an unpleasant scene. Really, the tabbies of the Town got more vicious by the day.
"Arabella, my dear child, please tell Rosalie here all about the fundraising and your plans for the clinic."
Arabella hesitated only a moment before beginning to outline their plans enthusiastically.
Rosalie shot her a look of such intense dislike that Philip now came up to ask Rosalie to take a turn about the room with him before the woman ended up scratching Arabella's eyes out. Not that he didn't think Arabella couldn't handle herself, but why inflict pain on the poor child more than necessary?
He left the trio of friends staring after him in relief. After a short time with Rosalie in a corner, Philip systematically began to flirt with every woman in the room in the most blatant fashion any of them had ever seen.
"I say, what on earth does Philip think he's playing at?" Alistair gasped when their friend's attentions to one woman began to border on the scandalous.
Blake resisted the temptation to cover Arabella's eyes and rush her away. He cleared his throat and said, "I imagine a man censured as he is already feels he has very little to lose."
"Still, he's so intelligent. Was such a prodigiously talented scholar. How can he allow himself to be reduced to being a mere, well, stallion." Alistair blushed and shook his handsome if unusual head of spun silver hair, and said farewell.
But Arabella was not so sure Philip did not know precisely what he was doing, and had amply proven his intelligence by outwitting the spiteful cats. The way every woman he bestowed his attention upon began to simper and cast longing looks at the tall, handsome and reputedly vastly wealthy man soon put an end to their pursuit of Blake.
Then Philip came back, took her to one side, and said in a low tone to Arabella, "You can see what they are now, can't you? Sometimes men are rakes because it's so easy for them to be. These women have no dignity, decorum, morals or scruples. Every one of them here is an adulterer many times over. Blake was deceived in them because he is a trusting and innocent soul."
"I see what you mean now, but really, while I know you are only trying to help, I'm afraid you've gone too far. Your own reputation--"
"I'm sorry you've been astonished and disturbed by some of the things which have been said and done here tonight. But surely you can see that Blake is no worse than any other man if he did avail himself once of what is so evidently offered so freely."
"I don't understand. Why are they doing this?" she said, near tears.
He put one hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "Because you're such a threat to them, my dear. You prove true, pure love really can exist. They envy and fear that. Why would any man settle for a hard, grasping, carping woman like Rosalie, or even Leonore for that matter, when they could try to win someone as warm and loving as you?"
She stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed. Then she laughed. She bowed to him. "I own it. You are good. You say exactly what each woman wants to hear, and thus win them over."
Philip frowned. "I'm being sincere."
"So say all rakes."
He took her hand and kissed it. "I am telling the truth. I always shall with you. I didn't intend this to be a seduction, or even a warning on how to avoid the pitfalls of a man's smooth-tongued flattery. It was a warning against Rosalie and Leonore. Don't let them spoil what you and Blake have, a rare trust and confidence. A special closeness and intimacy which is worth having."
He swept the drawing room with his hand. "It's all here for you, Arabella. All of his dirty linen aired in public. Don't hold it against him. We all make mistakes. He is after all a mere man, and a lonely one. Or he was until you came into his life."
Arabella stiffened. "He is a most excellent guardian. I have no right to judge him for his past liaisons. They are none of my concern. In fact, looking at these women, I really have to feel rather sorry for him. Not one of them is worth a candle."
Philip nodded and patted her on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. Just remember you said that the next time you have any doubts about his character, and you will know whom to trust. Trust is everything in a marriage. Especially for a man like Blake. He had been very badly hurt in the past. His family-"
"No more skeletons tonight, I beg," Arabella said quietly. "I would like him to be able to tell me about himself without having his entire private life paraded through Lady Cavendish's drawing room for all to see."
"No, of course not," he said with a tight smile. "Nor would I. It would be quite a parade. So my mission is at an end. You need no warning from me, I can see. I hope you'll both be very happy. If you can overcome his scruples about being your guardian, you will be."
Philip bowed over her hand, and went to speak with the three ladies who had engineered the entire evening. Whatever he said had all of them puce with ire except Lady Cavendish, who blanched and stepped away from the group as though she had been struck.
Philip smiled suavely, adjusted his cuffs, and with a final curt bow, he left.
Their hostess could not get them out of her drawing room quickly enough after that. Arabella was dying to know what on earth Philip could possibly have said to her, but she was too relieved to care that much.
Blake took her arm and began to lead her to the cloakroom, saying through a clenched smile, "That was sheer hell."
"Lucky Philip was here. And Alistair, of course."
Blake ground his teeth together to prevent himself from making a jealous remark. Really, she and Philip had been so intimate-looking together…
But she had seen Philip flatter, cajole, flirt and practically suckle his way through the entire room. Surely he could not have also counted her amongst his conquests too?
Arabella saw his wide-eyed look. "You can't possibly think he has designs upon me!" she said in amazement.
"Why not? He's not deaf, dumb and blind."
She shook her head as he helped her on with her evening cloak. "I know you tell me he's a rake, and his performance tonight was astonishing, but he didn't act sparkish with me in any way. He did it to prove a point, that these women and I are nothing alike. That they have no virtue. That I have no reason to mistrust or think ill of you."
"And did he prove his point?" he asked softly.
She nodded. "Let's leave here as if we hadn't a care in the world. Go on, kiss my hand for all to see, and I shall take your arm as I swan out of here, and never come again. I for one shall forget this evening
ever happened. I will never mention it again if you don't, except to remind you never to accept an invitation from any of these people again.
"And do stop trying to take me out and keep me entertained as if I were some spoilt Society miss. I don't mind doing the charity fund raising, but apart from the Elthams and their close friends, and occasionally Lady Pemberton, I don't want to meet any more so-called fashionable people. They bore me."
He kissed her hand and gave her his arm. They swept out past the sea of seething faces.
"Very well. I can see we're going to have to work you even harder than before. It seems the only thing that can keep you happy."
"Letting me be myself, my own woman, yet still your, your friend that you watch out for, that makes me happy."
"A pleasant answer like that deserves a kiss, right in front of these nasty old tabbies, don't you think?" he said with a wink.
"Oh, u-u-um-" she began to stammer.
He simply kissed her brow and put his arm around her as they stepped out into the night. There was nothing lover-like about it, but it sent a clear message to the remaining audience: their little scheme hadn't worked.
Her cousins seethed. Blake had not been discredited, Alistair Grant had closed ranks with his two old friends and the lovely little Arabella, and Philip Marshall, whom they perceived as their main rival, had come out looking even more glamorous than usual.
So it was true. Most women just loved a rake. The little hayseed was no different, for all her air of respectability.
The Nevilles would move forward to a more romantic phase of their plan, and see what success they had.
Both smacked their lips together with relish. Arabella was a tasty little dish fit for a king, and they were looking forward to tucking in with gusto.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
January turned to February, and Arabella had never felt so fulfilled. She had her work at the clinic and the house, the almost constant companionship of Blake, and the good society of his Rakehell friends and her cousins.
Every waking moment seemed to be filled with chores during the day, and entertainments, discussion groups, musicales, amateur theatricals, routs, and of course her charity drive for the clinic in the evenings.
She seemed so happy and settled that Blake was reluctant to uproot her entirely from London. Not when he was going to be going to Somerset on business in the main. Of course there was her estate to see to, but he could easily find a decent steward, pick up any personal items that she requested, and come home as soon as Sarah Davenport's baby was born and he had seen Mr. Jerome and paid his respects as befitting the gentleman's named heir.
Arabella loved her life with Blake, but she missed Somerset. She longed to see her old friends, her loyal servants, who had been part of the family. Her bright sunny bedroom overlooking the orchard. Her little sitting room full of all her special projects, her work with the villagers.
But Blake seemed to be thriving at the clinic. The uncomfortable evening at Lady Cavendish's had caused him to be even more sought after socially, by much more respectable people. He had undergone a trial by fire and survived. Now everyone wanted to know him, and meet his ward, whom half of London could not praise highly enough, and whom the other half of society, the female half mostly, reviled.
Rosalie fumed over the failure of her little plot for some days. At length she decided if she couldn't damage Blake personally, she could damage him professionally.
Inventing an imaginary illness, she presented herself at his examination rooms one day.
She immediately proceeded to remove her gown for a thorough scrutiny of all parts of her anatomy. She had also forgotten to put on many of the undergarments considered de rigeur for a Society dame. Though it was rather cold, she felt sure Blake would warm her up in no time.
Rosalie presented herself at the side entrance to the house used for patients, which led to Blake's suite of examination rooms and dispensary.
Arabella, sitting in the library working on her accounts, heard a tinny laugh go past. Despite Blake's injunctions never to go to that part of the house unless he specifically sent for her, she got up and stepped into the small cupboard which adjoined the examination room, which he used as his dispensary.
"Really, taking off all your clothes is most definitely not necessary," he tried to insist as Rosalie's breasts popped out of her chemise, which she had opened with a deftness which would have impressed any prostitute.
"Oh, Blake, why deny it? You still want me, for all your show of virtue in front of that little infant you've been saddled with."
"Even if it were true, this is neither the time nor the place-"
He was trying to avoid her hands now, and stepped back against the examination room wall, declaring impatiently, "This is a pointless game, Rosalie. Think about it. If I wanted you, I would know where to find you, now wouldn't I? Three-quarters of the men in London queue up outside your door every night. Be satisfied with them. It's over between us. It never even began. You ended it. You have no one to blame except yourself."
Her green eyes sparkled with fury. "You will be mine, or I'll tell everyone that you accosted me in the middle of my examination. It will ruin your practice."
"Maybe amongst the fashionable set, but not the poor," he said angrily.
"Oh, that's easily taken care of. I can just tell everyone about the abortions you perform at the clinic, the number of your own bastards you've had to get rid of thanks to the generosity of the women you supposedly treat-"
"That's enough!" Blake roared. "Your mind is so unspeakably filthy I can scarcely even name it. You want me to copulate with you to keep you silent about these lies? I don't bow to blackmail. If I don't wish to be with you willingly, what makes you think I'll go by force?"
"You will if you know what's good for you," she said, spreading her legs wide. "And I'm told I'm very, very good."
He looked directly at her, not even trying to avert his eyes from the fact that she was not wearing any drawers. "Yes, but there has to be some modicum of lust for a man to be capable of an erection. I'm afraid even if intellectually I was willing to give in, physically I would be incapable. You disgust me utterly. Get your clothes on and get out."
She gasped in fury. "You're going to wish you had never-"
Arabella stepped out of the dispensary now.
Both looked at her in surprise. Rosalie tried to shock her by spreading her legs even more widely.
"I believe the good doctor has already made his feelings perfectly clear upon the subject of you resuming your acquaintance," Arabella said calmly, though inside she was sure she was about to faint.
"And since he always has a woman present when he examines one, for the sake of propriety and reassurance, no one is going to believe your lies. You think you're so clever. But you have only made him actively dislike you, instead of be merely indifferent to you. Just recall this day you spread yourself like a wanton and tried to defame him if you ever need to ask yourself why Blake can never be yours."
She turned to Blake. "Dinner is ready. Would you care to wash up and join me?"
"Yes, thank you." He took her hand and they left Rosalie naked and fuming.
"How did you-" he gasped when they were out of earshot.
"I heard her laugh. I knew she was up to no good."
"I'm really sorry about-" he began to apologise.
She shook her head. "It isn't your fault."
"But I'm sure that Peter didn't want you to be exposed to women like her."
"Yet I work at the clinic. Peter supported it, I'm certain."
"Rosalie is different. She can't seem to help herself. There is a huge difference between women who do it because it's a job, and women who are so immoderate they do it for only the power and the pleasure of wreaking havoc."
"Well, whyever she's doing it, we need to eat, get dressed and go to Lady Radcliffe's for her monthly soiree. Put Rosalie out of your mind. She can say what she likes, but most people with any sense will kno
w why she's doing it and not pay any attention."
"I certainly hope so. What she said about- Well, it simply isn't true. I would never-"
She put her hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to justify yourself to me. I know you value life above all. That is not to say you might not have to give an abortion if it were a case of trying to save someone's life, now would it?
"But I understand that. I know there are reasons why having a baby can be dangerous. They told my mother that after I was born. I understand it all now, thanks to you."
"You understand a lot more than I intended, thanks to Rosalie."
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 Page 79
