A Wealthy Widow

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A Wealthy Widow Page 24

by Anne Herries

‘Yes, thank you,’ John said. ‘It was a mere scratch, as you know.’

  He was clearly in a good humour; perhaps a little amused at his own thoughts. Arabella was glad of his presence at the table, for it might otherwise have been awkward. Charles had lapsed into what appeared to be a moody silence and she felt that he was angry about something. And Captain Hernshaw looked very serious, smiling only when one of the ladies spoke to him.

  After lunch she and the other ladies left the gentlemen to talk and smoke a cigar if they wished. Arabella went to her study where she wrote a long letter to Melinda. She met Sarah as she was leaving the room and they discussed their visit to York the following day.

  Sarah was clearly feeling much better and looking forward to the outing.

  ‘Shall we go into the garden?’ she asked as Arabella deposited her letter on a silver salver on the hall table. ‘It is quite warm out, Arabella, and we have been cooped up for days. I want to tell you that I think Tilda has come out of her ordeal remarkably well. She has been telling Mama that she intends to travel. We have been talking of it and Mama has decided to ask if she would like to accompany us, at least as far as Italy. We could take a villa together and spend the winter in the sunshine.’

  ‘That would be wonderful for her,’ Arabella said. They stopped to take shawls from the hall cabinet, draping their shoulders as they went out. ‘She told me that she wished to visit Italy, and it would be so much nicer if you went as a group.’

  ‘Yes. We hardly need Charles to escort us,’ Sarah said. ‘I know he means well, Belle, but he is so…intense. He makes me feel guilty, because he used not to be that way. I know that he is desperate to make up to me for what happened—and it was not his fault, though he believes it was because of that card game. I think that if the three of us went together—and Mama’s coachman and grooms, and perhaps her secretary to take care of all the official things…’ She laughed at the picture of their entourage this conjured up. ‘There will be so many of us—besides, you will not want us on your honeymoon, Belle.’

  ‘I should not mind at all,’ Arabella assured her as they linked arms and went outside. ‘You must know that I’m always pleased to be in your company, Sarah.’ She smiled and lifted her face towards the sky. In a tree nearby a thrush was singing and the scent of flowers drifted on the air. ‘It is beautifully warm, is it not? We have had some cool days, but now it is almost like summer again.’

  ‘Yes, lovely,’ Sarah agreed. ‘I think the weather is much like this all the time in Italy. I am really looking forward to our trip.’ They strolled across the lawns towards the rose arbour. ‘Mama asked me if I felt ready to meet our friends. She said we might go home or to Bath for a while—but I think I prefer Italy, at least for the moment.’

  ‘It might be easier to go into company with strangers at first,’ Arabella agreed. ‘You would be able to adjust without your friends asking uncomfortable questions—and there is plenty of time for a London Season when you come home.’

  ‘I am not sure that I shall want a Season at all,’ Sarah said, wrinkling her forehead. ‘Perhaps I may change my mind in a few months, but at the moment I do not feel that I could trust any man enough to give myself to him.’

  Sarah’s face clouded with doubt. She stopped walking just short of the rose arbour, looking at Arabella with wide, anxious eyes.

  ‘You will learn to trust again,’ Arabella told her. ‘Believe me, dearest. Sometimes, when one has been hurt, it feels as if you are bleeding inside. You think that you can never be happy again—that you will never be able to love again.’

  ‘Is that how you felt after Ben died?’ Sarah’s eyes were on her, appealing and sad, soft with sympathy.

  ‘Yes.’ Arabella reached out to touch her hand. They were so close in that moment, such good friends. ‘I was not sure that I would ever wish to marry again. Everyone said that I ought, but I felt that my heart was dead.’

  ‘But you are going to marry Charles.’ Sarah gave her an odd look. ‘Do you love him, Belle? I mean, really love him—as much as you loved Ben?’

  Arabella hesitated, then, ‘Yes, I do love Charles. In a slightly different way. Ben was my hero. I adored him as a child and as a young girl. We were very happy in the short time we had, but when he died that girl died too. I became a woman, a different woman—and it is that woman who loves Charles.’

  ‘He loves you,’ Sarah said. ‘I am not sure that he understands it himself yet—but I have seen it in his eyes. There is a kind of hunger…a longing that he cannot hide.’

  ‘I know that he feels something for me,’ Arabella agreed. ‘I pray that he will let himself love—’

  She broke off suddenly, for she had seen someone in the rose arbour. He was half-hidden by the overhanging trailing roses that cascaded down the wooden poles, but she had caught sight of him as he moved. She did not know why, but instinctively, she pushed Sarah behind her, sheltering her as the man stepped forward into full view. A thrill of fear shot through her as she saw that he was holding a pistol and it was directed straight at her.

  ‘So we meet at last,’ Sir Courtney said and gave a high-pitched titter. ‘Did you imagine that I would allow you to make a fool of me?’

  ‘There is an order out for your arrest, sir,’ Arabella said. She moved back a few steps, keeping her own body in front of Sarah, and intimating with her hand behind her back that the girl should go. As she moved back, the man came forward, emerging from the shelter of the rose arbour where he had been hiding. ‘You are wanted for the attempted murder of my cousin. He has signed a statement and you were seen at the crossroads by a magistrate.’

  ‘So the fool survived, did he?’ Sir Courtney snarled. ‘I’ll deal with him later. But first there is you, my proud lady. I wasn’t good enough for you, was I? Well, I shall teach you your manners. You will be on your knees begging for scraps before I’ve done with you.’

  ‘I shall never beg for anything from you,’ Arabella said, raising her head proudly. She moved back a few more steps. ‘I would rather die than let you touch me—and I shall never be your wife.’

  Behind her, Arabella heard Sarah gasp. She screamed out her brother’s name and began to run towards the house. Sir Courtney’s attention was diverted. His eyes narrowed as they followed her fleeing form. He swore and raised his arm, taking aim at her back. In that instant, Arabella, who had not taken her eyes from him, threw herself at him. She caught at his arm, causing him to fire wide.

  He swore at her as they struggled. ‘You deserve to be taught a lesson.’ He thrust her back. She stumbled and he pointed his pistol at her, trying to fire again. The hammer came down, but nothing happened; as happened with so many pistols of its kind, it had jammed on the second shot and was useless. With a scream of fury, he brought the pistol crashing down against her temple.

  Arabella gave a cry of pain and fell to the ground, losing consciousness as everything went black. She did not hear the shouts of anger as three men ran from the house and one fired, his ball finding its mark. A small round hole appeared in Sir Courtney’s forehead. His face wore an expression of startled surprise as he swayed from the force of the shot, and then he buckled at the knees, falling forwards to the ground.

  ‘Arabella!’ Charles cried. He was the first to reach her. He went down on his knees, gathering her still form in his arms, cradling her to his breast. ‘Arabella, my love…my love.’

  John Elworthy turned Welch over onto his back with his foot and looked down at his face. ‘That was a damned good shot, Hernshaw. Remind me never to challenge you to a duel.’

  Captain Hernshaw smiled bleakly. He had learned his trade on the battlefields of Europe and was known to be the best marksman in his regiment. He watched as Charles lifted Arabella in his arms and began to stride back towards the house. Some of the men from the estate had come running after hearing the shot.

  ‘Lady Arabella has been hurt. One of you must go immediately for the doctor,’ Hernshaw said. ‘And the magistrate must be informed about what
has happened here.’

  ‘I’ll go for the doctor, sir,’ one of the men volunteered and set off at a run towards the stables.

  ‘There is a warrant out for Welch’s arrest,’ John said. ‘You did what you had to do, Hernshaw. Had it not been you, it would have been Charles or I—and we all thank you for it. Arabella could never have been truly safe while that madman lived.’

  Something flickered in Hernshaw’s eyes. He inclined his head, a grim line to his mouth. ‘I shall wait at the house until the doctor has been—unless you wish me to accompany you to see the magistrate?’

  ‘No, I shall do well enough alone,’ John said. ‘But he may wish to speak to you, hear your own account of what happened. I suggest you prepare to stay in the district for a day or so longer.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I should feel disinclined to leave until I know how Arabella goes on.’

  John looked at him, nodding as he saw more than Hernshaw meant to show. ‘I understand. Go up to the house, then.’ He glanced at Arabella’s bailiff. ‘Someone should move the body and keep a watch on it until the magistrate returns with me. This business must be done properly.’

  ‘I saw it all,’ Mr Grant said. ‘I was too far away to do anything, sir. I am sorry that he managed to get into the grounds. We’ve been patrolling the bounds since first light, but he must have sneaked in during the night—came over the wall, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘It can always be done if someone is determined on it,’ John said. ‘I believe the danger is over now, but Mr Hunter will speak to you later.’

  He set off almost immediately for the stables. Captain Hernshaw walked back to the house.

  As he entered, he saw that a small group had gathered in the hall, including Mrs Hunter and the housekeeper.

  ‘How is she?’ he asked. ‘I believe she was rendered senseless by the blow from his pistol. Would that I had shot a moment sooner.’

  ‘Oh, sir, you were wonderful quick,’ Mrs Bristol said. ‘It was lucky that you had your pistol with you.’

  ‘I was about to leave and I never travel without it,’ Hernshaw said, a grim light in his eyes. ‘It has seen off many a highwayman—but Arabella, how is she?’

  ‘My son carried her upstairs,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘She was still unconscious when he rushed past me. I can tell you no more than that, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Captain Hernshaw—’ Lady Tate spoke from the top of the stairs ‘—will you please come up and sit with us in the drawing room? Mrs Bristol, please bring tea and coffee. Selina, please come and join me. Sarah and Tilda are with Arabella. They will come and tell us when they know what is happening.’

  ‘Yes, Hester, of course,’ Mrs Hunter said. She smiled at Captain Hernshaw. ‘I believe we all owe you a debt of gratitude, sir. Arabella is hurt, but, had you not acted so promptly, she might have been dead.’

  ‘Will she recover?’ Charles pounced on the doctor when he left Arabella’s room. He had waited outside while an examination was made, pacing up and down the hallway in anxiety. ‘How badly is she hurt?’

  ‘She has had a nasty blow to her temple,’ Dr James said. ‘But she was stirring a little as I examined her just now. I believe she will be better soon, though she may have a headache. There is a small cut to the side of her head, which I have dressed. However, I am fairly certain that no serious damage has been done.’

  ‘Thank God!’ Charles felt the relief sweep over him. ‘I thought for a moment that he had killed her.’

  ‘No, no, I think it is more the shock than anything. She should rest for a few days, take things quietly. In a week or so she will be back on her feet again—though it may take longer for her to recover from the distress. It was a terrible thing to happen, Mr Hunter.’

  ‘Yes, it was,’ Charles agreed. ‘She was so brave. All the time he was pointing that pistol at her, she kept her body between him and Sarah—and then when Sarah ran and he tried to fire at her, she wrestled with him. He might have killed Sarah had she not prevented it.’

  ‘You do not surprise me,’ the doctor said and smiled. ‘Lady Arabella is a great lady, Mr Hunter, and much admired in the district. I believe you are to be congratulated. I must say that I thought she would never marry again. She was devastated when Ben Marshall died—but I am very glad to hear that she has found happiness with you, sir.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Charles offered his hand. ‘You will come again tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, I shall look in on my rounds,’ Dr James agreed. ‘But if you should need me, I am only in the village and I shall come at once. Lady Arabella would be a great loss to the community—but I do not fear it and nor should you.’

  ‘Thank you again. Will you see yourself out, sir?’

  ‘Yes, yes, no need to worry. I shall have a word with Lady Tate before I go. She was looking a little pale when I arrived. She may need something from me.’

  Charles turned away, knocking softly at the door of Arabella’s bedchamber. Sarah came to open it, inviting him in with a smile. ‘She spoke to me just a few moments ago, Charles, and I think she is sleeping now. I gave her a sip of the doctor’s mixture and she smiled before she closed her eyes.’

  ‘She saved your life, Sarah. That devil meant to shoot you in the back.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Sarah said. ‘I love her so dearly, Charles. She is like my own sister. Had it not been for Belle, I might never have found the will to live. Nana took me in and nursed me, but Belle gave me reason to hope. She visited every day and brought me things…presents, clothes, delicious trifles to eat. She gave me books to read and asked me to live with her…’ Sarah smothered a sob. ‘She saved my life not once but twice. You are very lucky to have won her, Charles.’

  ‘I am not sure that I have,’ he said, looking at Arabella as she slept. For a moment she stirred, her eyelids flickering as she murmured something. ‘She agreed to marry me because it would make her safe from Courtney and other fortune hunters. We are friends, but…’

  ‘Of course she loves you,’ Sarah said. ‘She told me so just before that man came out of the bushes and started abusing her. I was terrified, but Belle stood up to him. She told him that she would rather die than let him touch her and would never marry him. I do not think that she would marry you unless she cared for you.’

  ‘I know that she feels something…’ Charles moved closer to the bed. He leaned over, kissing Arabella’s forehead as she slept. ‘She might come to love me in time, perhaps.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘That is what Belle said of you. If she has not confessed her love to you, Charles, it is your own fault. You have been obsessed by your guilt over what happened to me. Arabella thinks that you are denying your love for her—and she is right.’ She smiled as he turned to look at her. ‘I do not want you to devote your life to me, Charles. I shall do well enough with Mama and Tilda—and Lady Tate is considering whether she too may come with us to Italy. We shall be a large party with all our servants to care for us. We do not need you, Charles. I do not need you—and I do not blame you for what happened to me. You could not have known what those wicked men would do; besides, it is over.’

  Charles straightened up, leaving Arabella’s side to come to her, looking into her eyes. ‘Is it truly over for you, Sarah?’

  ‘The nightmares have gone,’ Sarah said. ‘I am happy now that I know Mama and can remember what I was before it happened—but I am not ready to be the girl I was. I must become someone else, the way Arabella did after her husband died. I was an innocent girl when I was abducted. I do not know what I am just now—but travelling abroad with Mama and our friends, I shall learn to become someone different.’

  ‘And what of John Elworthy?’

  ‘John…’ Sarah’s eyes clouded for a moment. ‘I like John very much, but for the moment that is all it can be. I have told him how I feel and he understands. I do not know if I shall ever wish to marry.’

  ‘I pray that you will find happiness one day,’ Charles said and reached forward to touch her hand. ‘I love you ve
ry much as my sister, Sarah, but you are right. You must move on and perhaps you will do that better without me.’

  ‘It is not that I do not love you,’ Sarah said, tears in her eyes. ‘But it is what I want for now.’

  ‘Yes, I understand,’ Charles said. ‘Go and join the others now, Sarah. I want to sit by her bed alone for a little.’

  ‘Yes, very well,’ Sarah said and smiled at him. She moved towards him, kissing his cheek and moving back quickly before he could return the gesture. ‘I love Arabella. Take care of her and love her, Charles. She needs you even if her pride will not let her admit it.’

  Charles nodded. He drew a chair up to the bed and sat down, watching Arabella as she slept. She was so beautiful, so lovely in every way. He had known that he was in love with her before this, but only when he feared that he might lose her had he realised what it would mean.

  She was the woman he had waited for all his life. All his other affairs had been light-hearted flirtations. This time it was the kind of love that hurts, the kind that gives as well as takes, and the kind that would last throughout his life. He hoped that it was not too late. She had asked him to marry her, telling him that it was not to be a love match. He suspected that she had done so out of pride. He prayed it was so, for he wanted her to love him, wanted it, needed it more than he had ever realised he could need anything.

  ‘I love you, my dearest Arabella,’ he murmured softly. He reached out to touch her face, his heart aching to see her lying there so still and pale. She had always been so full of life, so confident and caring for others. If he lost her now…but he could not bear to think of it. Without her he would once again become the empty shell of a man he had been until she came into his life and forced him to feel again. ‘Please be well, my darling—and please forgive me…’ He smothered a sob. ‘I need you so, my love. Please do not leave me.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Arabella opened her eyes. Her curtains had been partially drawn and the sun was streaming in, warming the room. She stretched, becoming aware of a sore place at the side of her head. She put her hand up to touch it and encountered a sticky ointment, remembering as she did so what had caused the injury.

 

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