by Rose Pearson
“This is our second chance, is it not?” Jacob said, softly, letting go of one of her hands so that he might tuck a tendril of escaped hair behind her ear. Arabella shivered at the contact, her eyes fluttering closed.
“I have returned in time to prevent you from marrying that oaf, and you have told me the truth about your affections,” Jacob continued, as Arabella drew in a ragged breath. “I will hold nothing back from you now, Arabella. I have never stopped loving you.”
Arabella made to open her eyes, made to say something, but before she could, Jacob’s lips touched her own. Starting for a moment, she froze, only to wrap her arms around his neck, feeling tears press between their cheeks as they once more began to spill from her eyes. Jacob’s kiss was tender yet firm, and she could sense that he was holding himself back from the passion that he was eager to unleash upon them both. She had no need for him to do so, for she knew full well what it was that he felt for her, both marveling at it and filled with gratitude that he would offer her such a thing.
“You will marry me, will you not, Arabella?”
His lips were barely separated from hers and she could only breathe one word.
“Yes.”
With a good deal more passion, Jacob kissed her again. He did not lose his balance as he held her, standing as tall and as strong as any other gentleman. Arabella held onto him tightly, her fingers twining into his hair, feeling as though she might either collapse into a faint of delight or burst into joyous exaltations the moment that he let her go.
It turned out that she did neither such thing, for a quiet clearing of the throat caught both of their attentions. Stumbling back, she turned to see Sara standing in the doorway, a gentle smile on her face.
Her cheeks flaming, Arabella stammered something incomprehensible and hurried back to her chair, far away from Jacob. Jacob was grinning broadly, not looking in the least bit repentant, much to Sara’s delight.
“You should not be standing, brother,” Sara said, after a moment or two, her voice filled with brightness. “Regardless of the occasion, you ought to be sitting and resting.”
“On that count, I fear you must blame Arabella, my dear sister,” Jacob said, quite loudly, as he settled himself back into his seat. “For she was the one who forced me to my feet.”
Arabella saw the gleam in his eye and shook her head in wry laughter, just as the maid brought in the long-awaited tea tray. “I know full well you do not believe him, my dear Sara.”
“Oh, but it is quite true!” Jacob protested, with a laugh. He waited until the maid had departed before continuing, “For she agreed to be my wife and I could do nothing but stand to celebrate such wondrous news!”
Sara gasped, although Arabella was relieved to see the joyful smile that crossed her face at such news.
“Can it be true?” she breathed, looking from one to the other with nothing but delight. “My brother will have the happiness he has long searched for?”
“He will,” Arabella replied, not able to lift her eyes from Jacob. “I confess my part in forcing him to wait so long, but it will now be as it was always meant to have been.”
“And there shall be no more mention of the past,” Jacob replied, firmly, his mouth settled into a line. “I will not have you continually mindful of what has gone before, my dear Arabella. I will not have despondency or dismay clouding our happiness.”
She smiled at him, as Sara began to pour the tea, her face still wreathed in smiles. “Of course, Jacob,” Arabella replied, feeling as though the final burden was lifted from her shoulders. “I can think of nothing more than our happiness.”
Sara sighed in contentment as she handed Arabella a cup of tea. “When will you make the announcement?” she asked, rising to walk over to her brother with another cup. “Will it be this week?”
Arabella hesitated, seeing Jacob looking at her questioningly. “I have only just broken off my engagement to Lord Winchester,” she said, slowly, wondering what Jacob would think of this particular suggestion. “My mother is, as you might imagine, quite distraught with the news and is fearful of all the rumours and whispers that will surround her family. I am not certain that bringing yet more scandal – even though that is not how I think of this engagement – will be the best thing for either of our families.” She saw Jacob nod whilst her own heart wrenched. “That is not to say that I do not wish to wed you, Jacob, for I would do so tomorrow, should it be possible, but I must think of all that has gone before.”
“And we must be wise,” Jacob agreed, slowly. “I can understand what it is you speak of, my dear Arabella. You are considerate of your mother and your current situation and you are quite right to suggest that we might, perhaps, wait a few weeks until the current ripples have settled somewhat.” His smile did not quite reach his eyes. “Much as I dislike having to wait for any particular length of time, perhaps a fortnight would be wise?”
Arabella nodded, going against her own heart’s desire. “A fortnight, then, before we announce it.”
“Although you will, of course, tell mama, will you not?” Sara addressed Jacob, looking now a little anxious. “You know how she will fret otherwise.”
Jacob smiled at his sister. “Of course, mama has a wise head on her shoulders and will understand the need for the delay.” He shot a glance towards Arabella. “Although I shall leave it to you to decide what to do when it comes to your own mother, my dear.”
Arabella smiled and let out a small, quiet laugh. “I think she will quite lose her head, no matter what time I tell her,” she admitted, making both Jacob and Sara laugh. “No, indeed, I think I shall tell both her and my sisters, but assure them that for a fortnight, all will be kept quiet. That way, my mother will have time to adjust to the idea and, mayhap, even become glad of it.” She shot her betrothed a rueful smile. “It is not that she does not think well of you, my love, but more that she is quite angry with me for behaving in what she considers to be a very foolish and inconsiderate manner. Perhaps two weeks will give her the opportunity to prepare herself for what is to come – although I cannot think that having a daughter married to a Duke’s heir can be in any way unwelcome!”
Jacob laughed and Arabella felt herself become a little more settled, seeing the love in his eyes and finding in him the reassurance she needed.
“And that may also give Lord Winchester the time he requires to consider his own course of action,” Sara added, quietly, taking the smile from Arabella’s face. “I see now why he attempted to injure you, brother. He does not want you to marry the lady he was once betrothed to.”
“Because he feels that I owe him my loyalty,” Arabella added, sighing heavily. “But it cannot be, no matter how much he wishes it. I love Jacob and my heart will belong to no other.”
Jacob’s expression grew tender as he looked back at her. “Let us hope that we have safe passage from this moment,” he said, softly. “Let us pray that Lord Winchester will forget his threats and find some other lady to tempt him. Let us urge your mother to find joy in our engagement and let us linger on the happiness that is to be ours on the day we wed.”
Arabella smiled, refusing to allow her doubts and fears to take hold. “Indeed,” she agreed, quietly, not lifting her gaze from Jacob. “For there can be nothing better in this entire world than a life lived with love. I cannot wait to discover it.”
Chapter Twelve
For what was the first time in a good long while, Jacob St. Leger was sitting in White’s and enjoying a good brandy without even the smallest hint of melancholy in his soul. He had spent a week enjoying Arabella’s company just as often as he could, safe in the knowledge that he soon would be able to declare to the beau monde that he was to make her his wife. The banns would be called and, in four short weeks, they would be man and wife.
Nothing could compare to this.
“Ah, St. Leger!”
“Halesworthy!” Jacob exclaimed, grinning broadly as the gentleman inclined his head. “Good evening to you! How do you far
e this fine day?”
“Fine day?” Lord Halesworthy repeated with a grin. “It is near dawn, good sir!” He chuckled as Jacob gestured for him to sit down. “You appear to have had a very good evening yourself, I might add.”
Jacob grinned and told the footman to bring them two brandies. “Indeed,” he said, wishing that he might tell Lord Halesworthy the truth behind his delight. “I find myself freed from the discontent that has plagued me for so many years.”
“Of that, I am very glad,” Lord Halesworthy replied, with a quizzical look. “And you were not gravely injured, I hope?”
Frowning for a moment, Jacob quickly realised what he meant. “Oh, no,” he replied, waving a hand. “A few small cuts and grazes but nothing too bad.” He took the brandies from the waiting footman and set one in front of Lord Halesworthy. “I thank you for your consideration.”
Lord Halesworthy looked a little uncomfortable, his smile sliding from his face. “I fear that my sister fears she made something of a cake of herself that day, old boy,” he said, slowly. “She is most disinclined towards blood, you see.”
Jacob could not help but laugh, recalling just how pale Miss Halesworthy had gone that day. “I could tell,” he replied, leaning back in his seat. “You need not worry, Halesworthy, I do not think any less of her for it.”
Lord Halesworthy looked somewhat relieved. “I am very glad,” he replied, with a quick smile. “Although I must tell you that she is already being courted by another.” His expression again grew tense. “That being said, if you were eager to court her, then…?” His words faded away, leaving Jacob thoroughly confused for a moment. He studied his friend carefully, slowly trying to make sense of what Lord Halesworthy had said. It began to dawn upon him and he shook his head firmly, slapping Lord Halesworthy firmly on the back.
“No, no,” he said, grandly, thinking just how much Arabella would enjoy hearing this tale. “You need not concern yourself in that regard, Halesworthy. Your sister is quite delightful but I do not think that she would do well with the likes of me.”
Lord Halesworthy frowned, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. “What can you mean?”
Jacob shrugged. “I mean simply that I am a man inclined to trips and falls,” he said, with a lop-sided smile. “If she is disconcerted with a little blood, then I must hope that she can find a gentleman for whom such things as falls and spills are a good deal less common. If you understand my meaning.” He waited for Lord Halesworthy’s frown to loosen, seeing his friend begin to nod.
“I think so,” Lord Halesworthy replied, eventually. “Although she did have a fondness for you, St. Leger, I will not pretend otherwise.”
Jacob shrugged inwardly but did not allow himself to present such a thing to his friend. “I am glad if she has found herself a suitable gentleman,” he said, after a moment, seeing Lord Halesworthy’s frown disappear entirely. “Might I ask the name of the fellow?”
Lord Halesworthy’s smile was faint. “One Lord Winchester,” he said, drawing the name out slowly as he kept his gaze pinned on Jacob. “Recently had Lady Arabella cry off from their engagement.”
Jacob felt as though the air had been pulled from his lungs, his hand frozen on the brandy glass as he stared at his friend.
“You must know him a little,” Lord Halesworthy continued, his brows beginning to lower again. “Tell me, what do you think of him?”
Drawing air into his starving lungs, Jacob felt his mind begin to cloud. “I fear he is not a gentleman of good character, Halesworthy,” he said, carefully, his voice rasping. “You must tell your sister to take great care.” A warning began to ring in his mind, recalling what Arabella had told him about Lord Winchester’s threats. Surely the man could not be planning to treat Miss Halesworthy in a disgraceful manner, in order to put the blame somehow upon Jacob’s shoulders?
Or was Lord Winchester doing such a thing in order to shatter the friendship that was between Jacob and Lord Halesworthy? Jacob could hardly tell, but the urge to remove Miss Halesworthy from Lord Winchester’s grasp was growing steadily.
And yet the only way I can do so is to insist that I am eager to court her, he realised, closing his eyes tightly and groaning aloud. Which is the one thing I cannot do since I am engaged to Arabella.
“Whatever is the matter?” Lord Halesworthy exclaimed, now looking quite worried as Jacob opened his eyes and rubbed at his forehead with the back of his hand. “Lord Winchester does not have a bad reputation and he is a man with both high title and good fortune! I cannot see what there is to be concerned about.”
Jacob shook his head, sighed inwardly, and felt his anger begin to burn deep in his heart.
“You asked me for my advice, Halesworthy,” he said, keeping his voice low and yet steady. “I will not divulge all that I know, but needless to say, I believe that Lord Winchester is a man of unsavoury character. I fear that he will not be a good match for your sister for various reasons. If you wish to know why Lady Arabella cried off, then may I suggest you speak to her at once, for she will be more than able to tell you the failings of Lord Winchester’s character that forced her to do so.” He held his friend’s gaze, seeing Lord Halesworthy begin to look troubled. “She will speak honestly and openly to you both.”
Lord Halesworthy’s lips twisted. “But she cried off, which is a disgrace in itself,” he said, slowly, lines appearing on his forehead. “She has brought scandal upon herself and her family. Can her words really be trusted?”
Jacob wanted to slam his fist down hard on the table and force Lord Halesworthy to listen, but instead, he drew in a long breath and set his jaw.
“Or, you might consider that Lady Arabella was willing to accept the scandal that came with her actions, simply because she knew she could never marry a gentleman such as Lord Winchester,” he argued, seeing Lord Halesworthy’s frown deepen. “She has risked her reputation and her future, simply because she could not bring herself to be that gentleman’s wife. I would warn you to keep Miss Halesworthy away from Lord Winchester. I tell you this as your friend, Halesworthy.”
Lord Halesworthy sighed. “And not because you have any particular interest in my sister yourself,” he stated, a little dully. “You need not deny it, St. Leger. I can tell that you do not care for her in that fashion.”
“No,” Jacob replied, truthfully. “No, I do not, Halesworthy, but that does not mean that I do not care for her wellbeing. Lord Winchester may look to be all that Miss Halesworthy desires, but I know that he is nothing more than a fraudster.”
“Those are strong words,” Lord Halesworthy muttered, before throwing back the rest of his brandy. Swallowing it, he set the glass down and shook his head. “All I want is for my sister to be settled, St. Leger.”
“That I can understand,” Jacob replied, evenly, thinking of Sara, who was both careful and considerate in whom she chose to dance with and, upon occasion, even converse with. As a daughter of a Duke, she knew full well that a good many gentlemen considered only her fortune and dowry, as opposed to having any particular consideration for her. “But I pray that you heed me in this.”
Lord Halesworthy let out his breath slowly, shaking his head. “She will be quite angry with me, I fear,” he said, snapping his fingers to the footman to order another brandy. “But I will accept what you have said, St. Leger. Your words have merit and I will not ignore them.”
“I am quite sure Arabella – I mean, Lady Arabella – would be more than happy to speak to Miss Halesworthy, should she wish it,” Jacob added, as the footman set a brandy down in front of Lord Halesworthy. “And now, as you have pointed out that it is near dawn, I think it best that I return home. I have a luncheon tomorrow, or I should say later today. I shall need to have my wits about me, given that there are to be four ladies present and only one single gentleman other than myself!” He laughed but Lord Halesworthy only sighed. “Will you call upon me soon, so that I might know how things fare?”
Lord Halesworthy looked up as Jacob rose, the lines
on his forehead still prominent. “I will,” he said, lifting his glass as though in a toast. “Thank you, St. Leger.”
“Of course.”
Feeling somewhat triumphant, Jacob limped his way towards the door of White’s, aware that the gloomy streets signalled the first light of dawn. The darkness that had enveloped London when he had first set foot into White’s no longer held sway.
Stepping out into the cool morning air, Jacob closed his eyes and drew in three long breaths, before forcing himself to walk down the stone steps to the pavement. His leg had twisted rather badly the day that Lord Winchester had managed to knock him to the ground, and it was still not entirely recovered – although Jacob did his best to hide such an injury from everyone he could. Everyone except Arabella, whose sharp eyes would have noticed it regardless.
Walking slowly along the street and praying that a hackney would soon materialise, Jacob let his mind fill with thoughts of Lord Winchester and what it was he had been attempting to do. A victorious smile settled on his face as he wandered through the gloom, realising that his friendship with Lord Halesworthy was stronger than even he himself had known. Lord Winchester was, as far as Jacob could see, attempting to shatter the friendship that was between them, and perhaps even ruin Miss Halesworthy in some way, although Jacob prayed that he had said enough to Lord Halesworthy to prevent that particular course of action. If this was what Lord Winchester had threatened, then he was falling far short of the mark. Jacob was not about to lie down and allow Lord Winchester to run roughshod over him. He would fight back in whatever way he had to, in order to protect those who he considered his friends.
“You are out rather late this evening.”
