by Mary Balogh
She deserved some happiness herself. He had known it with his heart the night before when he had found himself making love to her with no thought to his own satisfaction. That he had been far more deeply satisfied than he had with any woman before her had been an irony of the whole situation. He had wanted Arabella to know the full joy of physical love.
And that morning he had known it with his head. He had woken to find her curled up beside him, her cheek on one hand, the other cheek flushed, her top lip curving upward, her white teeth just showing beneath, and he had looked at her for a long time.
She had become very dear to him almost without his realizing the fact. She had been his wife for longer than a month, but he had been slow to acknowledge the fact that the relationship had changed his life. And far slower to admit that she was becoming the wife of his heart. He had fought and fought against the truth because it had always seemed to him that love was a trap, a prison that took away a man's freedom to enjoy life.
But he had acknowledged it at last. Arabella had become far more precious to him than anything he had ever considered important to his life. And freedom to enjoy his life could mean something to him now only if he were free to make Arabella happy. And not just physically. He wanted to fill her whole life with love and joy, not just her bed. Unfortunately, he had no experience whatsoever in making another person happy. His life had been a very selfish one.
He was going to have to apologize to Arabella, grovel, get down on his knees at her feet if necessary. Would she forgive him? he wondered. And was he really sorry at last? Was he sorry for the cause as well as for the consequences?
Lord Astor's horse reached the roadway at last and he turned its head in the direction the phaeton had been taking a few minutes before. He could no longer see it, but he could not be far behind. Charlton would not have a chance to proceed too far in his seduction scheme before he came up with them.
Arabella must be saved from suffering. He must impress upon Frances that her sister was not even to know about this episode.
Frances had been up unusually early, having been awakened by the brisk morning air blowing through a window that Bella's maid had neglected to close the night before. She had been surprised to find that neither her sister nor any of her particular friends were yet in the breakfast room. Indeed, only a very few people were there, several of the gentlemen apparently having gone out riding.
Frances stepped out onto the lawn after breakfast in order to while away the time until someone else came downstairs. She breathed in the morning air in some enjoyment and wondered why she did not get up early more often.
"Ah, Miss Wilson. You are an early riser, I see."
When Frances looked back, it was to see Sir John Charlton striding toward her.
"Good morning, sir," she said. "I thought all the gentlemen had gone out riding together."
"I have been home already," he said, "to fetch my phaeton for your convenience. I am delighted to know that I do not have to wait until almost noon for you to rise."
Frances could see the phaeton on the driveway behind him. A groom was holding the horses' heads.
"I do not believe it would be proper for me to accompany you now, sir," she said.
He looked startled. "Did I give the impression we would be alone, Miss Wilson?" he asked. "How very remiss of me. Lady Astor will be there too, and Mr. Hubbard. They have ridden on ahead."
Frances frowned. "I didn't think Bella was even up yet," she said. "But of course. She is always up early. But why did she not wait for us?"
"I believe she wished to exercise that dog of hers," Sir John said.
"George?" Frances said. "Yes, of course."
"I believe we should be on our way," he said, glancing back at the house. "Your sister might think it somewhat improper to be left alone with Mr. Hubbard."
"Yes," Frances said, and took his proffered arm after only a moment's hesitation.
It was only after they had been traveling in the phaeton for several minutes that Frances turned to her companion with a frown on her face. "But you did not expect me to be up until noon," she said. "Bella would have been alone with Mr. Hubbard an awfully long time by then."
He turned a haughty look on her. He never did smile, Frances recalled. "Will you not enjoy the beauty of the morning, Miss Wilson?" he said. "You do not need to worry your head with complicated thoughts."
17
Despite the earlier than usual rising of Frances and the later than usual rising of Arabella, Arabella was still up, breakfasted, and outside before her sister came downstairs. She made her way as soon as she could to the kennels in order to take George for his belated walk. She had to pass the stables on her way there, and as she did so, she almost literally ran into Mr. Hubbard.
"Ah, well met, Lady Astor," he said. "Wish me well. I am on my way to Brighton."
"To Brighton?" she said.
"I have told Farraday that I am returning home on business," he said. "But I am glad of the chance to confide the truth to someone. I am going to bring Sonia home, and my son. Do you think me quite mad?"
Arabella stared at him for a moment. "No," she said at last. "I think perhaps you are very sane, sir. You are unhappy without them, are you not? With them you will have a chance of happiness at least."
"I knew you would understand," he said. "I did a great deal of thinking after I had talked to you yesterday afternoon. And really, being unforgiving and protecting myself from further hurt makes no sense at all. All I am doing is protecting and preserving my own misery. I have to forgive Sonia. Only so can I perhaps heal myself. Do I make any sense?"
She nodded. "Your life is going to be very difficult," she said. "There will be great scandal. And your marriage can never be as it was, can it? But, yes, you are right. I know you are right, and I wish you well, sir. Believe me I do. Perhaps I may call on Mrs. Hubbard when she is home?"
He smiled and took her hand. "If you do, you will probably be the only lady of reputation who will for a long time to come," he said. "Yes, I am not expecting an easy reconciliation. I am not looking for a happy-ever-after ending. But my marriage is worth hard work and risk. Sonia is worth it, and our son. And I am worth the risk."
He raised her hand to his lips.
"I wish you a safe journey, sir," Arabella said.
"Thank you," he said. "You are a fine lady, ma'am."
Arabella watched him stride into the cobbled yard of the stable block, and continued on her way to the kennels. George was soon barking ecstatically and making eager rushes at her ankles in protest against the words she stopped to exchange with a groom.
She spent a whole hour exercising both her dog and herself. She walked while she was in sight of the house, but when it was left behind, when she found herself in open pastureland, then she caught up her skirts and ran, laughing and dodging as George sensed a game afoot and tried his best to bowl her off her feet.
She felt lighthearted suddenly. The day was clear and warm, the landscape green and open, and there was no place for misery or despair. Life could never be so bad that there was no hope. She was married and she and her husband were still together. The night before, they had made love as she had never dreamed it could be, and he had been warm and tender. He had given up his mistress and wanted to make a new start with her. He wanted them to be friends.
And she loved him. Achingly and eagerly so.
Surely there was no cause for despair in those facts. It was true that he might tire of her again and take another mistress. It was true that he had proved to be faithless. And it was true that he had never expressed real sorrow for his wrongdoing. But then, life was uncertain. No one could ever see into the future to know what would happen. Perhaps one of them would die within a year. Perhaps the world would end within a year.
Life was a risk.
If Mr. Hubbard could take back his wife after what she had done, and be willing to face up to all the undoubted hardships that a reconciliation would mean, then surely she could gi
ve her marriage another chance. If he could forgive his Sonia, then surely she could forgive her husband.
Perhaps she should go and find him then, Arabella decided, and tell him that after all she would go gladly with him to Norfolk in the autumn and that she would give their marriage a chance there. Perhaps she would take the risk of accepting him even without his acknowledgment of his own guilt.
Perhaps they could begin that very day, and not wait until they were alone together. They could start to be friends immediately. There was no reason to wait. And perhaps they could love again that night and know that there was some affection between them as well as physical attraction.
It was difficult to adjust her pace as she drew closer to the house. It was hard to walk sedately when she wanted to run and run until she could hurl herself into her husband's arms. But perhaps he would not even be at the house. He had gone out with Lord Farraday and a few more of the gentlemen even before she had gone downstairs for breakfast.
As she drew closer to the house from one direction, Arabella could see a phaeton in the driveway on the other side of the house and Sir John Charlton handing Frances into it. At least, it looked like those two.
Arabella frowned. Where could Frances be going at that time of the morning? And why was there no one with her except Sir John? She quickened her step, abandoning George to a groom's care without her usual hug.
She ran headlong into Theodore as she went up the marble steps to the main door and through it into the tiled hallway.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry, puss?" he asked with a grin, gripping her by the arms to steady her.
"Do you know where Frances was going?" she asked. "She just got into a phaeton with Sir John and drove off somewhere."
He frowned. "Just the two of them?" he asked.
She nodded. "Oh, it is too bad of her, Theo," she said. "She really ought not to be doing anything so improper. I must find his lordship and get him to ride after her with me. I dare not go alone or he will be dreadfully cross."
"I should think so too," Theodore said. "Go and change into some riding clothes quickly, Bella, while I try to find out where they were headed. I shall see if there are two horses left in the stables that can be saddled up for us. You will have to have me for an escort. Astor has not returned yet."
Ten minutes later they were on their way to Sir John Charlton's country home, hoping that the groom who had held his horses' heads for a few minutes was correct in his assumption that that was his destination.
Frances was feeling dreadfully afraid by the time the phaeton drew to a halt outside a square red-brick house. There was no sign of either Arabella or Mr. Hubbard or of anyone else for that matter, except a groom who appeared from around the far side of the house and came to steady the horses while Sir John vaulted to the ground and turned to lift her down. Suddenly he seemed like a total stranger, and a rather menacing one at that.
"Where is Bella?" she asked as he set her on her feet and kept his hands at her waist for rather longer than was necessary.
"Perhaps inside the house," he said, "or more probably still on the way here. She was exercising that dog of hers, if you will remember. Come inside, Miss Wilson. You will be ready for some refreshments."
"Oh, no," she said, "not until Bella comes, sir. Will you show me the flowers? They look quite splendid. Mama prides herself on the flower gardens at Parkland, you know."
"Indeed?" he said. "Perhaps another time. We will step inside out of the cool breeze."
"Will you call your housekeeper?" Frances asked nervously as he took her by the elbow and led her over the threshold. "Perhaps she will stay with me until Bella comes."
"I am quite sure she will not," he said firmly. "I do not encourage servants to linger in rooms which I am occupying, Miss Wilson. Come now, step inside the salon here. You will hear your sister the moment she arrives."
"Will you send for tea?" Frances crossed the room to stare out of the window. "I am rather thirsty, sir."
"Are you?"
She jumped and felt her heart begin to thump. She had not heard him come up behind her. He set his hands on her shoulders, caressing them with his palms.
"Yes, I am," she said quickly. "I do believe I forgot to have tea with my breakfast. It was very careless of me, but the weather was so glorious that I was in a hurry to go outdoors."
They both saw Lord Astor riding up to the house at the same moment. Sir John muttered an oath and released his hold on her. Frances sighed with relief and felt her knees turn weak.
"I shall ring for tea immediately, then," Sir John said with a bow, crossing the room to the bell pull. "Perhaps Lord Astor will have some too. Or perhaps something stronger. I shall have to wait to ask him."
When Lord Astor was shown into the salon, it was to find an unsmiling but genial host and Frances standing at the window looking out at the garden. She turned when he was announced.
"Ah, Astor," Sir John said. "What a pleasant surprise. Miss Wilson has joined me for tea, as you can see. May I offer you some, or perhaps something more palatable?"
"I was out riding with Farraday and saw you drive past," Lord Astor said with a smile. "The chance of seeing your home seemed too good an opportunity to miss, Charlton. Good morning, Frances."
"Good morning, my lord," she said, her eyes looking a suspiciously bright shade of blue.
"I am delighted you decided to follow us," Sir John said with a bow. "Perhaps after refreshments I can show you and Miss Wilson something of the house and garden. My servants keep both immaculate even though I am rarely here."
"Your maid is in the kitchen, Frances?" Lord Astor asked, strolling across the room to look out through the window next to the one against which she stood.
"N-no, my lord," she said, "I did not bring a maid. Bella is on her way here with Mr. Hubbard. I expected that she would be here already, but she is exercising George."
"Indeed?" Lord Astor said. "How fortunate, then, that I arrived when I did."
"Y-yes," she said.
Lord Astor's eyebrows rose. "But here she comes now," he said. "With Perrot, it seems, not Hubbard. And George is nowhere in sight."
Frances turned to look through the window. Sir John stayed where he was at the other side of the room, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Frances," Lord Astor said, "perhaps you would care to join your sister and Sir Theodore Perrot outside. The weather is far too glorious to be wasted indoors, is it not?"
"Yes, my lord," Frances said. She wasted no time in obeying his direction.
Lord Astor turned to face his silent host. "I will want an explanation of this, Charlton," he said. "I somehow have the feeling that my wife's arrival is quite coincidental and quite unexpected by you."
Sir John raised one eyebrow. "Your sister-in-law is no child, Astor," he said.
"No, exactly," Lord Astor agreed. "She is a woman, Charlton, and in my care. I cannot believe that you were unaware of how she would be compromised by a visit here with you alone."
Sir John shrugged. "So what do you intend to do about it?" he asked. "Challenge me? That would be a trifle old-fashioned and more than a trifle illegal, would it not?"
"But very much in my mind nonetheless," Lord Astor said.
"It seems I have no choice but to offer for her, then," his host said carelessly. "I believe we have a certain understanding anyway. To whom must I address myself, Astor? To you, or to her mother?"
Lord Astor's eyes narrowed. "You have an understanding with Miss Wilson?" he said. "She has agreed to be your wife? I will have to talk with her about this. If you tell the truth, I shall expect a visit from you one morning within the next week. If you do not, you may expect a call from me. Good day, sir."
Frances was crying. Lord Astor saw that as soon as he strode from the house. Arabella was beside her, patting her on the back, offering a handkerchief. Theodore was hovering close by, clearly reluctant to offer closer comfort in that relatively public setting. The three horses were grazing
on the lawn, probably a forbidden activity, Lord Astor decided. Both Arabella and Theodore turned toward him.
"All is well," he said. "I arrived not long after them. Frances is quite unharmed. She is frightened, that is all."
"Where is he?" Theodore asked, stepping toward the house.
"Cooling his heels, I would imagine," Lord Astor said. "I have had a brief talk with him. The matter will be cleared up back in town."
"The scoundrel will not escape as lightly as that," Theodore said. "He is going to be dealt with now." He strode off in the direction of the house.
"He will be dealt with," Lord Astor called after him, but his words were drowned in Frances' shriek.
"No, Theo!" she cried. "He will kill you. Come back. Oh, Bella, bring him back. He will be killed."
She swooned as Theodore disappeared through the door without even stopping to knock first.
"Oh, dear," Arabella said, kneeling on the cobbles beside the inert form of her sister and flapping her handkerchief over her face, "she has fainted. She has never before done that before. Oh, poor Frances."
Lord Astor moved around to the other side of his sister-in-law, slid one arm beneath her shoulders, and brought her up to a sitting position.
"Keep fanning her," he said. "She will revive in a moment. I could almost find it within myself to say that she deserves this, but that would be unkind. What makes her so foolish, Arabella, when you are so sensible?"
"Well," she said, flapping the handkerchief vigorously and peering anxiously into her sister's face, "Frances is the beauty, you see. She has never needed common sense. But sometimes I do wish she had a little more fortitude. How pale she looks!"
"She is beginning to stir," he said. "I hope Perrot is not carving up the furniture in there."
"My lord!" Arabella looked up at him suddenly, her fanning movements slowing. "What did you mean when you said that he would be dealt with? You are not going to fight a duel, are you?"
