by A. O'Connor
“I’m afraid so,” said Arabella as she sat down.
“I hope it’s not hereditary?” Margaret was concerned.
“Mother fears you may pass it on to her grandchildren when you and Harrison have children!” said Emily. “Any slight disadvantage would be much disapproved of.”
“Emily!” warned Margaret.
Arabella started laughing. “No need to worry, Lady Margaret. The rest of my family do not appear to share my dislike of sea travel.”
“Oh, good!” smiled Margaret. “I often find people who suffer sea sickness can have a poor constitution. But come, my dear, I shall personally escort you to your room. You will need to rest and change before we have dinner.”
Arabella looked around the resplendent Blue Room which was at the front of the house and offered breathtaking views down the terraced gardens and across the lake.
There was a soirée that night and neighbouring gentry families would be attending, if the snow permitted. She had spent days choosing what outfits to bring with her. Now she changed into a deep red gown which was low-cut and exposed her shoulders and arms. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she knew it wasn’t a dress to impress a future mother-in-law with Lady Margaret’s tastes. But it was a dress that would grab a man like Charles’ attention.
As she heard the merriment and laughter on the other side of the drawing-room door, she thought Charles must be there by now.
She walked in. As she made her way through the smiling guests, her dress attracted admiring and surprised smiles.
“Ah there you are, my dear,” said Margaret as she came over to her. “And what a – remarkable dress.”
Gwyneth was full of admiration. “I think it’s splendid! I’m going to get one just like it.”
“Not until after the wedding to the Duke,” advised Margaret, looking at Arabella’s bare shoulders. “We don’t want you catching cold.”
“It’s from Paris,” said Arabella.
“Yes,” said Margaret. “The French are always so forward with their fashion.” She then took Arabella by the arm and led her around. “Mr and Mrs Foxe, this is Miss Arabella Tattinger, Harrison’s fiancée. Mr and Mrs Foxe are from the neighbouring estate, Arabella.”
Arabella’s eyes searched the crowd as she was introduced to everyone. But there was still no sign of Charles.
The snow was still pelting heavily against the windows as Margaret ordered Barton to close the curtains in the drawing room. As the wine and sherry continued to be served, the party was becoming merrier. Christmas songs were being played on the piano and the conversation was loud and jolly around the room. Arabella looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was nearly ten o’clock.
“The last few months have been so busy,” Gwyneth confided in Arabella. “Organising the wedding, you know.”
“I can imagine,” said Arabella.
“Myself and Mother returned from London last week where I did the final fittings for the wedding dress.”
“Spectacular, I’m sure.”
“The wedding will be here at Armstrong House, of course.”
As Gwyneth discussed the minutiae of her pending nuptials, Arabella began to realise there was a very good chance Charles was away for Christmas. Nobody had said he would be there, and she hadn’t asked, only assumed.
“I was in a dilemma because the church in the village is small, and the Duke has such a wide circle who will need to make the journey here. We debated about being married at Battington Hall and having the service nearby at Salisbury Cathedral. But Mother said a bride must be wed at her family home, otherwise it looks as if she has something to hide.”
“Sound advice.”
“What arrangements have you decided on for your own wedding?”
“Where is Charles?” Arabella suddenly blurted out.
“Charles?” Gwyneth looked around the room, unaware he wasn’t present. “He set off this morning and hasn’t been seen since. I hope he’s not stranded somewhere with the snow.”
Arabella felt relief. At least he would be there for Christmas.
At that moment the door opened and in walked Charles, looking calm and cool.
“Charles! What kept you?” demanded Lawrence.
“Detained on estate business, Father,” explained Charles, as he joined the men at the fireplace and took a glass of brandy from Barton. “The snow is settling in. I hope it won’t affect the hunt.”
Just then Harrison appeared.
“Oh, hello, Harrison!” said Charles. “Happy Christmas!”
“You too!” Harrison grabbed him and pulled him across the room. “And look who is down with me!”
Arabella steadied herself as she saw Harrison lead Charles over to her.
“Look, Arabella, it’s Charles!” announced Harrison.
“So I can see – Merry Christmas, Charles.” She nodded and smiled at him.
“Yes – indeed,” Charles said.
Arabella smiled at him. And she realised her worst fears were true. She had not imagined the feelings he stirred in her.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to see to my guests,” said Charles and he turned and walked away.
“His guests!” Gwyneth laughed. “I thought they were Mama and Papa’s guests!”
“Well, as their heir, I suppose he has a duty to them as well,” said Harrison.
“He certainly seems to be settling into his role here. I never thought he would,” said Gwyneth.
“Oh, I think Charles could settle into any role he wanted to, if he put his mind to it,” said Arabella as she watched him mingle and charm a circle of women.
It was after midnight before everyone drifted off home.
Arabella had noticed Charles had slipped off to bed without saying goodnight.
“Well, I think everyone should be making their way to sleep shortly,” advised Margaret. “We don’t need sleepy heads on Christmas morning.”
“Thank you for everything,” said Arabella.
“Goodnight, my dear.” Margaret kissed Arabella on the cheek before kissing Gwyneth and Harrison.
“Happy Christmas, my dears,” said Lawrence as he linked Margaret’s arm to lead her from the room.
At the door Margaret turned. “Straight to bed everyone, yes?”
“Yes Mother!” said Harrison and Gwyneth together.
“She’s making sure we’re not left alone!” laughed Harrison to Arabella.
“I hope she’s not suggesting any impropriety would take place?” Arabella was affronted.
“No. She’s just taking being your guardian for the week quite seriously,” said Gwyneth as they left the room and walked across the darkened hall and up the stairs. The house was quiet, only the odd crackle from the fireplace in the hall disturbing the silence.
Upstairs, Gwyneth walked along in front of them down a corridor to her room.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am you are here,” said Harrison as he paused at Arabella’s door.
“Goodnight, Arabella!” called Gwyneth down the hall as she opened her door.
“Goodnight,” said Arabella as she opened her own.
Harrison looked at her and hesitated before reaching forward and kissing her very quickly and lightly on the lips. Then he hurried down to his room.
Margaret was putting on her face cream at her dressing table as Lawrence got into bed.
“I have to say that dress Arabella was wearing was quite risqué,” she said. “And I do find it odd that her parents didn’t insist she go to New York, sea sickness or no sea sickness. I wouldn’t let Gwyneth go to Battington Hall before she was married unless I accompanied her.”
“Well, the Tattingers are a little less formal than us, I suspect.”
“Well, she will have to get used to our ways when she marries Harrison.”
Arabella looked at the dress which was now back hanging in the wardrobe. It had failed to capture any of Charles’ attention. She closed the wardrobe door and got into bed where she lay studyi
ng the flames from the fire flickering against the wooden panels of the wall.
chapter 9
Margaret was quite relieved when Arabella came into the drawing room the next morning dressed in a traditionally elegant dress. As Arabella observed the Armstrong family excitedly open their beautifully wrapped presents from under the tree, she knew they were a tightly knit family with much love between them. Only Charles, regardless of being sociable and charming with them, seemed set apart from them. Even Emily with her stubborn streak and James with his wild nature looked very much part of the family.
“This is for you,” said Harrison as he handed Arabella a beautifully wrapped box. Arabella unwrapped the paper and, opening the box, saw a brooch sitting on a velvet base. She smiled her gratitude to him, but he seemed more excited about the brooch than she was. She gave him her present of cufflinks and he was delighted with them.
They all travelled through the snow to church in the nearby village in a series of carriages. Charles continued to ignore her.
In the afternoon in the dining room, when a Christmas feast of turkey and goose was being served, Charles chose to sit at the far end of the table from her.
“Is the snow going to affect the hunt tomorrow?” asked Harrison, concerned.
“It will take place as normal,” said Lawrence.
“I’m looking forward to it,” said Arabella.
“You’re going on the hunt?” Margaret was surprised.
“Oh yes, when I visit my cousin’s estate in Kildare, I always go on the hunt,” said Arabella.
“Did you bring your riding costume?” asked Charles.
Arabella was surprised. It was the first time he had addressed her since she had arrived, apart from their initial greeting. She looked down at him and his eyes were cool and slightly mocking. “Yes, I came prepared.”
After dinner the family went for their traditional walk down through the terraced gardens until they reached the lakeshore and then they walked along it.
Arabella purposely left Harrison behind talking to Daphne as she caught up with Charles and tried to engage him in conversation.
“Although I’ve attended hunts before, I’m not very good. I usually get left behind and have to make my own way back!” she said and laughed lightly.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” he said and walked on quickly to join Emily, leaving Arabella behind.
By that night Arabella was fit to explode. She couldn’t bear Charles’ indifference to her and his subtle rudeness. Whatever these feelings he had created in her, she couldn’t let the situation continue. She needed to apologise and return their relationship to something somewhat civil, for Harrison’s sake if nothing else.
On Christmas night, the family was in the drawing room playing parlour games. Arabella kept an eye on Charles throughout, waiting for an opportunity. She got it when she saw him get up, whisper something to his father, and leave the room. She waited a minute and then sneaked out.
She looked down the hall and up the stairs and saw no sign of him. She walked across the hall to the small parlour and opened the door to see him standing by the fireplace lighting a cigarette. She took a deep breath, walked in and closed the door behind her.
“Oh, this is where you are hiding, is it?” she smiled as she walked into the room towards him.
“Not hiding, just trying to escape being dragged into any more games,” he said.
“I just wanted to check how you are,” she said. “We’ve hardly spoken two words since I arrived.”
“I’m very well, thank you.”
She felt terribly awkward. “Charles, I really wanted to apologise about the last time we met.”
“Whatever for?”
“I said some things that were – unkind – and I had no right to say them.”
“You had every right to express how you felt, and you did.”
“But . . . ”
“But what?”
“So it is as I thought then? You have stopped coming to Dublin because of what I said.”
“I’m not in the habit of staying in a place where I’m not wanted, or keeping the company of people who do not like or – trust – me. Those were the words you used, I remember.”
“And, as you said, the house in Merrion Square is yours and Dublin is a free city. I have no right to make you feel you can’t go there. I’m sorry, Charles.”
He looked at her for a long time. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Idea about what?”
“It’s not Merrion Square or Dublin I wanted to visit.”
“Well, then – Harrison! I have no right keeping you from seeking your brother’s company. He loves you very much and –”
“It’s you!” His voice rose before returning to a whisper. “It’s you I wanted to see. Your company I was seeking. You I needed to see all the time.”
“I don’t . . .” Arabella was trying to absorb the enormity of the words he was saying.
“Arabella . . .” He moved towards her.
Her hand suddenly rose into the air and she slapped him hard across the face, before turning and running from the room.
She quickly crossed the hall to the drawing-room door and waited for a while. She forced herself to become calm and steadied herself before opening the door and walking in. They were still playing games and playing music. She walked calmly across the room and sat beside Harrison on the couch.
“Are you all right? You look flushed?” he said, concerned.
“I’m fine, perfectly fine,” she said, smiling, as Charles walked casually into the room and went and stood by the fireplace. She could see the red mark on his face from her slap and hoped no one else would notice it. As he looked at her, she had to turn away as she felt her heart thump and her face redden.
chapter 10
The Armstrong Hunt was one of the most renowned in the country and an invitation to it was like gold dust. As Arabella changed into her riding clothes the next morning, the hunt had already gathered in the forecourt. She’d had her breakfast delivered to her room, sure she couldn’t sit at the same table as Charles. She fastened the buttons of her short black tunic over her white blouse and the long black skirt and put on her black top hat.
She had found it very hard to sleep the previous night as she relived the scene in the parlour with Charles, his words dancing through her mind over and over again. The words that disgusted and excited her.
She left her room and went downstairs and out to the forecourt. The forecourt was filled with riders on their horses, while the pack of hounds excitedly scurried around.
“Tom, bring Miss Tattinger’s horse over,” commanded Lawrence when he saw her and he rode over to her.
The groom assisted Arabella up onto the horse.
“I’ll probably slow you down!” warned Arabella, as she spotted Charles talking merrily to a few men.
“Nonsense, you’re a fine horsewoman,” said Harrison, mounting his own horse.
Gwyneth and Daphne came over on their horses.
“Emily refuses to come,” said Gwyneth. “As usual.”
There was much mingling and then suddenly the horses started trotting out of the forecourt and down the driveway.
“We’ll head over to Knockmora, and then on to the meadows,” called Lawrence who was leading the hunt, and the horses started trotting off at a faster rate.
As the hunt gathered pace, Arabella tried not to look at Charles, but every time she looked at him she found him already looking at her. They all trotted through the countryside until the horn blew strong.
“We’re off!” shouted Harrison as the hounds made a dash across the fields after a fox in the distance. The horses quickly took off after them.
Arabella found herself falling behind. Charles looked back and nodded to her and suddenly she saw him break away from the group and ride towards a wood. Nobody else seemed to have spotted him as they concentrated on the fox. Arabella saw him pause at the wood and look at her before his horse
disappeared in amongst the trees. She was falling even further behind as she paused to decide what to do next. She pulled on the reins and directed the horse towards the wood.
The wood was large and expansive, snow draped across the branches of the trees. She followed a pathway and continued further and further until she came to a small clearing and saw Charles standing there holding the reins of his horse, waiting for her.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said as she approached him.
“I wasn’t sure either,” she said.
He came to help her dismount and as he caught her by the waist she felt a thrill at his touch.
Standing, she gazed up at him. “What you said last night . . .”
“I meant every word.”
“But it’s impossible! What you said is impossible, in every sense.”
“Why?”
“You know why! Harrison. If the truth be told, I guessed you had feelings for me, but I wasn’t sure how deep. I thought you were playing games with me.”
“Never!”
“And I was frightened of my own feelings for you . . . But the truth is – since you stopped coming to Dublin, there’s been a huge gap in my life, in me. I didn’t understand it at first. I thought it would go away. But no matter what I did, the gap got bigger. And nothing could fill it, not parties, or my family, or a trip to New York, or even Harrison . . . especially Harrison!”
His eyes began to sparkle as he heard the words. “So what are we going to do?”
“What can we do? Nothing. We have to fight these feelings and get on with our lives. It can go nowhere, for obvious reasons.”
“Why then – why did you come to Armstrong House for Christmas if you wanted to ignore what was going on between us?”
“I – I – don’t know . . . I have to go. Harrison will be wondering where I’ve got to. Come and help me mount.”
He came quickly behind her, turned her around and began to kiss her forcibly.
She escaped him for a second, and then she grabbed the back of his head and started to kiss him back.
“Arabella! Arabella!” they heard faintly in the distance.
