Perfect 2 - A Perfect Groom

by Samantha James

  After all, he was the handsomest man in all England, and she was but a plaything. And she, fool that she was, had played right into his hands! For when she was in his arms, his expert mouth draining her of strength and will, nothing else seemed to matter.

  Oh, but she’d forgotten what a rogue he really was. God knew, he’d made no secret of it. Being caught by Georgiana and Aunt Grace had simply forced his hand, forced him into marrying her.

  The sense of betrayal was incredible. Wave after wave of burning shame washed through her, shame that bled to her very core.

  But she wouldn’t let him know it. No matter how much it hurt, she wouldn’t.

  Instead, she tipped her head to the side. “Is that why you agreed to wed me so quickly — that you might win?” She allowed no time to answer. “And here I was convinced you were to be commended for offering to marry me to save my reputation. Ah, poor Justin, forced to give up his name simply because he had the misfortune of being caught in the act of a mere kiss! I wonder, are you to be pitied or lauded? At least I needn’t worry that we will have pockets to let, now, will we? At least I am aware of your priorities. Money over honor and all that —”

  His jaw tensed. “Stop it, Arabella.”

  “I will not!” she flared.

  A dull flush crept beneath his cheekbones. “For what it’s worth, when I made that wager, I didn’t know The Unattainable was you.”

  She snorted. “Why, thank you for that assurance! It makes it all the more palatable, doesn’t it? Of course, a man with your looks would never have deigned to lower yourself to being seen with a graceless clod like me.”

  “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

  “There is no reason you could give that would make you less of a cad in my eyes.”

  His mouth twisted. “I’m quite aware of that. Nonetheless —”

  Ignoring him, Arabella started for the door.

  His hands descended to her shoulders when she would have skirted him.

  She flung her head up. “Release me,” she said evenly. “I must dress for dinner.”

  His mouth was as tight as hers. “That can wait.”

  “It cannot! Aunt Grace and Uncle Joseph are expecting us for dinner tonight.”

  He swore. “Goddammit, Arabella, we are not going anywhere until this is settled.”

  “Oh, yes, we are,” she snapped. “I refuse to disappoint or disrespect my aunt and uncle by failing to appear. And if you will not accompany me, then I shall simply go alone. In any case, this discussion will have to wait.”

  His hands fell away. What he thought of her speech, she didn’t know, nor did she care. Aware that her expression was mutinous, she sailed past him, her chin angled high.

  In the carriage, the atmosphere was stifling. Arabella sat stiffly on one side of the cushioned velvet interior, Justin on the opposite. Not once did their gazes collide. She offered no small talk, nor did he.

  As the carriage rolled to a halt in front of Uncle Joseph’s townhouse, she realized Justin hadn’t had the chance to tell her his news. Her lips compressed. She was not inclined to ask, not now. Clearly it hadn’t been important.

  Through some miracle, both of them managed to maintain a modicum of civility as they greeted her aunt and uncle.

  Aunt Grace took her hands. A dimple appeared in her aunt’s cheek. “I have a surprise for you, dear,” she said gaily.

  Arabella smiled slightly. “Yes, Aunt?”

  Beaming, without a word, Grace led her into the drawing room. There, two forms rose in unison from the sofa — one diminutive and blond, flanked by a tall red-haired man.

  Arabella blinked, then shook her head, as if to clear it. Her lips parted. “Mama,” she heard herself say faintly. “Papa…”

  And then she burst into tears.

  Twenty-two

  Her tears were not, Justin was convinced, tears of happiness. Tears of entreaty, perhaps. Tears of helplessness…

  Dinner was a strained affair. Arabella’s parents were polite but restrained. Justin didn’t miss the way their eyes strayed to Arabella over and over. Arabella sat beside him, her face pale, still streaked with tears. Every so often, her teeth dug into her lower lip, as if she were fighting hard not to break down. For a time, Grace tried to rescue all of them with her usual bright, vivacious chatter, until at last she, too, lapsed into silence.

  It was obvious to all present that Arabella was miserable. Justin was convinced it couldn’t get any worse.

  He was wrong.

  After dinner they filed into the drawing room. Arabella took a seat near the fireplace, to the left of where her parents sat on the settee.

  Justin cleared his throat. The direct approach was the right approach, he decided.

  He addressed himself to Arabella’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Templeton, it is obvious there is something on your minds,” he said with an easy smile he was far from feeling. “I suspect it would serve us all if we simply got things out into the open.”

  Daniel Templeton wasted no time. “Very well, then,” he said with a lift of shaggy red brows. “I shall begin by saying that the news of Arabella’s marriage came as a total surprise. Had we been here, I doubt her mother and I would have allowed it.”

  Now even Grace appeared ready to cry. God above, but the evening was showing every sign of turning into a catastrophe.

  Joseph reached out and covered his wife’s hand. “Now, see here, Daniel. Considering the circumstances, Grace and I did what we thought was right,” Joseph declared defensively. “You’ve left Arabella in our care many times and never before questioned our judgment.”

  “And there’s never been any reason to. But my word, Joseph, can you imagine our distress when Catherine and I learned Arabella had wed such a…” He paused. His gaze flitted back to Justin, who gritted his teeth.

  “Go ahead and say it,” Justin invited baldly. “You certainly won’t hurt my feelings.”

  “Very well, then. We were appalled upon discovering our daughter had wed a man of his ilk.” Daniel’s mouth was thin with disapproval. “Needless to say, we were already well aware of your reputation.”

  “That is why we set out for home at once,” Catherine put in.

  “And what do we find?” Daniel continued. “I know my daughter, sir. And despite what she wrote to us, that is not the face of a happily married woman.”

  Every eye in the room slid to Arabella.

  Justin’s heart sank. Her expression was pinched, her lips tremulous. He saw her convulsive swallow, the way her fingers plucked at each other in her lap.

  A fist knotted in his chest, so that for a moment he almost couldn’t breathe. It wrenched at his insides, seeing her like this. God knew, he didn’t expect her to defend him. But if only she would say something…

  “I submit, sir, that you took advantage of an impressionable young female. Her mother and I have already discussed this. Arabella has not yet reached the age of majority. We did not give our consent to this marriage. Therefore I am confident it can be nullified.”

  Justin surged upright with a curse.

  Grace gasped. Catherine was clearly horrified. Joseph shot him a silent warning.

  “Please.” Arabella’s voice was very low. “Will you all stop talking about me as if I weren’t present? I am not a child anymore.” She gazed at her father. “Papa, do not blame Justin, or Uncle Joseph or Aunt Grace. The truth is that if anyone had found out we were…kissing…I would have been quite done for.”

  Daniel’s face softened as he looked at his daughter. “We all make mistakes, Arabella. But this is one that can be rectified. I’m certain an annulment can be obtained.”

  Justin was incensed. It was only by the most stringent effort that he clamped the lid on his temper. “Sir, I must remind you that this is a matter between husband and wife, and I do not welcome your interference. And now, if you would all be so kind, I should like a word with my wife in private.”

  His gaze locked with the reverend’s.
/>   Daniel’s brows drew together over his nose. “Now, see here, boy, I am still her father —”

  “And however much you regret it, I am still her husband.” Justin’s tone was clipped and abrupt. “And I wish to see her alone.”

  Daniel showed no sign of relenting; Justin would not. Catherine, Joseph, and Grace had already moved to the door and stood waiting. Justin and Daniel remained deadlocked, oblivious to everything but each other.

  Finally, with a sound of impatience, Justin swung his gaze to Arabella. “Arabella?” he said softly. Within that quiet sound lurked both a demand and a question.

  The tension spun out endlessly. Her gaze remained focused on her lap. She was silent for so long he almost wondered if she’d heard him. Just when he thought he might explode, she raised her head.

  “I…please, Papa. It’s all right.”

  Daniel’s lips compressed, but he got to his feet. Walking over to where she sat, he pressed a kiss upon the fiery curls so like his. “Call if you need us,” was all he said.

  The door clicked shut behind him. Justin and Arabella were left alone.

  Justin hadn’t moved. Arabella’s regard had returned to her hands, still clasped tightly in her lap. She was white and subdued as he’d never seen her.

  “Well,” he said with a sardonic smile, “that went well. I knew I was a cad, but I never guessed I’d have to seek permission to be alone with my wife.”

  That brought her head up. Her eyes flashed blue fire. “Don’t you dare say anything against Papa!” she lashed out. “My father is the kindest, most gentle man on this earth.”

  Justin took a deep breath, feeling his way carefully. “Yes. Your parents are decent, respectable people. It’s obvious they are wholly devoted to you, so I understand perfectly their loyalty to you. And certainly the situation is…out of the ordinary.”

  Arabella neither agreed nor disagreed. Her gaze skittered from his. Once again, she ducked her head. Her pose was one of utter despair.

  Striding across the room, Justin got down on his haunches before her.

  “Arabella,” he said quietly, “won’t you look at me?”

  Her soft mouth trembled. Her lashes swept low, her head lower still.

  A dull pain unfurled in his chest. On impulse, he stretched out a hand to cover hers.

  It was a mistake. She drew back with a hiss. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Please don’t touch me.”

  His jaw clenched. He willed away the angry demand that swelled in him. Instead he said, very low, “Please, Arabella. Let us go home and discuss this.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “No. I — I don’t think I want to go home. Not with you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do? Stay here?”

  Her nod was jerky.

  Justin inhaled. “Sweetheart—”

  “Don’t! Don’t call me that. And don’t look at me like that!” Her voice was thin and high. “Perhaps Papa is right and our marriage should be annulled.”

  “I don’t want that.” His statement was quietly emphatic.

  Her eyes climbed slowly to his. If Justin hadn’t already been on his knees, the torment he glimpsed on her face would have surely put him there.

  “And what about what I want?”

  He tipped his head, as if to peer clear into her heart. “What do you want?” he asked gently.

  Her breath grew ragged and belabored. “I don’t know,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I can’t think with you here. I can’t think with you near. I need to be alone, Justin. I need to be alone!”

  “No. What you need is me. Your husband.”

  “My husband. My husband!” she burst out. “My husband, who married me to win a wager!”

  “That’s not true —”

  “Then why didn’t you tell the truth? You told me about the wager at White’s,” she charged. “Why didn’t you tell me about your wager with Gideon?”

  He despised the betraying flush that seeped beneath his skin. “Perhaps I should have. I told Gideon before he left for Paris that the wager was off. He refused to listen. Arabella, for what it’s worth, the wager was of no consequence to me.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it the instant the words were out. He gestured vaguely. “Arabella, I’m sorry—”

  “Oh, I’m sure you are — sorry that you were caught!”

  “I am sorry that I was so stupid, so foolish, so callous for making the wager at all! And yes, perhaps I’m being selfish, but I wish you hadn’t found out.” He gestured impatiently. “My God, how could I tell you? I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  Arabella said nothing, merely stared at him in silent accusation.

  “Arabella, the man who made that wager…he no longer exists. Being with you…everything’s different. I’m different. For the first time in my life, I’ve felt…happy. Content. I —” He cast about for the right words, praying he could find them. “I’ve never felt like this, love. Never. And it’s because of you, Arabella. I know it. I can feel it. When I think of our wedding night…what we shared…it’s very precious to me, sweet. What we had…no, what we have…I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.”

  But she was shaking her head, over and over and over. Denying it. Denying him.

  “Please leave,” she said tonelessly.

  “Arabella! Don’t do this. It can’t end like this.”

  “It should never have begun!” she cried.

  Justin stared at her. They were mated. By God, they were married. They belonged together in spirit and in soul. Didn’t she know it?

  “Don’t say that.” Against her will, against all reason, he caught her hands in his. He was burning inside — his lungs, his throat, but most of all, burning at the center of his heart.

  “You said a wife belongs at her husband’s side, Arabella. The night I told you about my father, you said —”

  “I know what I said. But…everything’s changed.”

  He heard the words, despairing and thick.

  He wanted to shake her, to demand that she listen. He wanted to close his arms around her and never let go. Christ, he thought helplessly, it was almost as if he could see her slipping away, drifting beyond his reach.

  “You’re wrong,” he whispered. “Nothing’s changed. Only me. Only me.” His eyes were stinging. He saw the world through a watery blur. Saw her through a blur. He didn’t care, nor did he care that she saw. All he could think was that he had to bring her back. He had to at least try.

  “Please, sweetheart. We’ll work this out, I promise. Just…” There was a deep, rough catch in his voice. “Come home with me. I — I’m begging you. Come home with me.”

  A stricken sound tore from her throat, a cry that ripped his heart to shreds. “Don’t say any more. And don’t look at me like that!” She wrenched away and bolted for the door.

  Justin knew then. It was no use. There would be no arguing. There would be no pleading.

  And when he left…he left alone.

  The next afternoon, Sebastian whistled a merry tune as he mounted the steps to his brother’s house on Brooke Street

  . He and Justin shared the same solicitor, and having just come from that good man’s offices, he was eager to congratulate his brother on his recent purchase.

  Arthur let him in. “My lord,” he murmured, taking Sebastian’s hat and umbrella, “your arrival is most welcome.”

  The butler directed him to Justin’s study. He didn’t think twice of Arthur’s statement until he saw Justin.

  He lounged in a chair by the fire, booted legs sprawled wide. His usually impeccable appearance was anything but. His cravat was undone, his shirt wrinkled and untidy, his jaw dark with stubble.

  “Good God, man!” Sebastian exclaimed. “You look bloody awful!”

  Justin saluted with a half-empty bottle of wine. “Thank you. May I return the compliment?”

  Sebastian looked into bleary, bloodsh
ot eyes and swore. “Are you foxed?”

  Justin’s mouth twisted. “Not yet. But I am trying.” He started to lift the bottle. “Ah, but where are my manners? Please, join me. It’s a fine year, I promise you.”

  Sebastian wrested the bottle away and set it aside. “Where the devil is Arabella?”

  Justin’s eyes glinted. “My lovely wife spent last night at her aunt and uncle’s. This morning, a footman came to collect some of her things. I trust that she is, at this very instant, contemplating whether or not our marriage should be annulled — per her parents’ counsel, I might add.”

  Sebastian’s mouth thinned. “Spare me your sarcasm. What the hell are you doing here, then? This is the last place you should be.”

  “She doesn’t want to see me.”

  “Oh, that’s absurd.”

  “She told me, Sebastian. She told me. She…she’s left me,” he ground out. “No, that’s not right. I drove her away. I drove her away with my — my vileness. My God, Sebastian, you should have seen her.”

  Sebastian sighed. “Perhaps I will have that glass of wine.” He retrieved the wine, poured himself a healthy portion, then sat back in the chair opposite Justin. “Tell me what happened,” he invited.

  Quickly, without a surfeit of words, Justin began to talk. He began with the evening of the Farthingale ball, and summed it up with Gideon’s visit and the remainder of the evening last night.

  Sebastian listened quietly throughout. One corner of his mouth crooked upward when Justin had finished. “Well,” he murmured, “I certainly don’t envy you.”

  Justin eyed his brother. “Your sympathy overwhelms me.”

  Sebastian leaned forward. “This isn’t doing either of you any good. But I doubt an annulment would be so easy to obtain as Daniel thinks. For one, Arabella did have consent — her aunt and uncle. For another, the marriage has been consummated, has it not?”

  Justin simply gave him a thoroughly disgusted look.

  Sebastian’s lips quirked in turn. “I agree, a stupid question.”

  “Perhaps it’s better this way.” Justin stared dully off into the corner.