The Long Return: A Regency Romance: The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square (Book 2)

by Rose Pearson

  Unless it has been arranged that Lord Pettigrew start spreading rumours almost at once.

  “What can we do?” he asked, a little more gruffly than he had intended. “Can she be made presentable?”

  Arabella’s eyes flashed, and she rose from her seat. “Do try to speak with a little more kindness, Jacob,” she murmured, so that Miss Halesworthy could not hear. “Miss Halesworthy is deeply upset and we cannot simply sew her gown and fix her hair so that she is made presentable again! She is quite broken. Can you not see that?”

  “I can,” Jacob replied, with a trace of hardness in his voice. “But you know what will be said if she disappears from the ball without a single appearance.” He held Arabella’s gaze, worrying that he was being cruel despite his attempts to be considerate of Miss Halesworthy’s reputation. “What else is there to do?”

  Lord Halesworthy cleared his throat. “You are quite right, of course, St. Leger,” he said, as Arabella turned back towards Miss Halesworthy. “But what can we do? The gown is quite torn and –”

  “My maid.”

  Jacob frowned, looking down at Arabella.

  “Mother always ensures that we have our own maid waiting,” Arabella continued, quickly, taking Miss Halesworthy’s hand in her own and sounding a little brighter. “I shall fetch her here and she shall do everything she can to ensure that you are more than presentable.” Arabella turned and gave Lord Halesworthy a slightly tremulous smile. “She is quite remarkable in her sewing and the like, and there will be no concern over rumour and the like.”

  “But how shall you get her here?” Jacob interrupted, rubbing at his forehead, and feeling the dull ache growing steadily between his brows. “The guests will see you, will they not?”

  Arabella let go of Miss Halesworthy’s hand. “I shall be as discreet as I can,” she said, slowly. “Unless you can think of something more that we can do?”

  Jacob sighed heavily, trying to think of an answer, but finding that nothing came to mind. “No, indeed,” he said, slowly. “I think that this is the only suggestion which may help. What say you, Lord Halesworthy?”

  “I thank you, Lady Arabella,” Lord Halesworthy said at once, sounding quite desperate. “Can you make haste? I do not want to wait for longer than we must, before returning to the ballroom.”

  Arabella nodded and quickly crept from the arbour, pressing Jacob’s arm in passing as she did so. Jacob felt his anger grow steadily as Miss Halesworthy began to cry softly. He excused himself so that Lord Halesworthy might comfort his sister as best as he could, although each sob tore at Jacob’s heart.

  Why had he been so foolish?

  The cool evening air did not welcome Jacob’s presence. It seemed to turn colder with every breath he took, biting at his cheeks and nose despite the fact that it was only a cool summer’s night. His leg ached terribly and he was forced to lean on his cane rather heavily, his breath coming out hissing between his teeth.

  “Miss Halesworthy is within, I think.”

  Jacob stiffened at once, hearing Lord Winchester’s voice reach him. He did not move, knowing that the man was doing all he could to torment him.

  “You need not worry about Miss Halesworthy, Lord Winchester,” he said, as loudly as he dared, for he did not want to distress Miss Halesworthy further. Nor did he want to alert Lord Halesworthy to Lord Winchester’s presence, solely because he was quite sure that the fellow might then decide to call Lord Winchester out, which could result in further damage to the good name of Halesworthy, since it would appear to the beau monde to be without provocation. “She is to be taken care of.”

  Lord Winchester’s voice was sneering. “How fortuitous that Lady Arabella and Lord Halesworthy were out walking in the gardens at the very time Miss Halesworthy was being…” He trailed off, leaving the last word unspoken.

  “Yes indeed,” Jacob said, carefully, not quite certain what Lord Winchester meant by such a suggestion. “I cannot pretend to be upset about such a thing.”

  “It is not, I hope, that you considered warning them both about Miss Halesworthy,” Lord Winchester continued, his tone now dark and filled with malice. “I must have made it quite apparent to you that there would be consequences for such a thing.”

  Jacob set his jaw, his anger mounting steadily, although some of his ire was directed towards himself. He was frustrated that he had allowed himself to be so threatened by Lord Winchester and that, even now, a frisson of fear was winding its way through his very soul.

  “You have seen what I can do when it comes to Miss Halesworthy,” Lord Winchester continued, a little more softly. “What say you now about Lady Arabella?”

  Jacob turned around, meaning to face Lord Winchester, but found that he could see nothing but shadows. Lord Winchester had obviously secreted himself somewhere within the gardens so that he might speak to Jacob without being seen. Was he afraid that Jacob might set upon him? Surely that could not be so, not when Jacob was as much of a cripple as he was. Why then, was he hiding himself away?

  “Will you not come out and face me?” he asked, trying to stand as tall as he could. “Will you not come and speak to me, as a gentleman ought?”

  Lord Winchester’s dark laughter reached Jacob’s ears, making him wince. “You must be a fool, St. Leger, if you believe that I am any sort of gentleman.”

  Jacob closed his eyes, feeling his anger begin to turn into something more. “I will call you out,” he said, darkly. “Show your face again and I shall call you out for what you have done. For what you have threatened.”

  Lord Winchester laughed. “Will you, now?” he asked, as though Jacob had said something ridiculous. “A crippled man, who has experienced the horrors of the army, will demand a duel from a gentleman who has done him no wrong? My goodness, can you think of what that will do to your reputation?” He paused, as if to give Jacob time to think. “You will be ridiculed, old boy. People will say that your mind is damaged, and I shall do the honourable thing and refuse to accept your duel, given that I think you are not quite of sound mind. I shall tell everyone how sorry I am for you, how I could not allow myself to accept such a thing when you were not truly yourself. The ton will feel nothing but sympathy for me and will consider me greater than any of them – whilst the rumours and whispers about you will be unceasing.”

  Jacob tried to draw in air, feeling the world seeming to shrink around him. Lord Winchester had done and said more in the last few minutes than he could bear, his anger fading away as he realised just how wily Lord Winchester had been. If Jacob was to do as he had threatened and call Lord Winchester out, then the beau monde would wish to know why – and Lord Winchester would garner everyone’s sympathy and understanding by stating that Jacob did not know his own mind. And, in the midst of it all, Lord Winchester could still, very easily, manage to find a way for Sara’s reputation to be quite ruined. Jacob did not doubt the man’s cleverness, not even for a moment. Somehow, he had managed to do as he had promised to Miss Halesworthy, although thanks to Arabella and Lord Halesworthy’s presence in the gardens, her reputation might be somewhat spared, but even if Jacob did all he could to protect his sister, Lord Winchester could still find a way. It was not as though Jacob could go to every single afternoon call that his sister attended, nor could he be at every single engagement. Of course, he could alert his mother and father to the threat, and he had no doubt that they would believe him, but his father might then withdraw Sara back to their estate and leave her without hope of finding a decent match.

  But at the same time, he could not give up Arabella.

  “What it is to be, St. Leger?”

  Lord Winchester’s voice was silky, as if he knew that he was beginning to severely trouble Jacob.

  “Are you to think of your own future, your own happiness, and in doing so, throw away your sister’s reputation? Even the daughter of a Duke can be sullied, and how much farther will her fall be than those of us who are… lower than she.”

  Jacob closed his eyes, his heart
screaming at him to choose between Arabella and Sara but finding that he could not do so.

  “You will not speak of this, St. Leger, not to anyone,” Lord Winchester continued, as Jacob began to hear faint whisperings drawing ever closer. “You have three days to make your choice.”

  “Three days?” Jacob repeated, hoarsely. “That is no time at all.”

  “And yet I consider it long enough,” Lord Winchester replied, his voice growing quieter with almost every word as he began to move away from wherever he was hiding. “I will find you, St. Leger, you will have no need to seek me out. Make your choice. I will not wait any longer than that.”

  Jacob shook his head, his whole body aching with the terrible choice that had been laid before him. He did not know what to say, his heart heavy and his mind filled with terrifying questions. How could he choose between the sister he loved dearly and the lady who had become more to him with almost every day that had passed? If he gave Arabella up, he would spend his life in misery, hating that he had broken away from what could have been his happiest years. And what would become of Arabella? Lord Winchester would make it clear that he was there, ready and waiting for her to return to him, and Jacob feared that, with her broken heart and her despondency, she might very well return to him and accept his hand in marriage. He could not allow that! To know that his choice was the reason for her misery was more than Jacob thought he could bear.

  And yet, Sara’s future hung in the balance. After what he had seen of Miss Halesworthy and her now blighted reputation, Jacob had no doubt that Lord Winchester could do whatever he set his mind to. The ton would not believe Jacob’s word, given that he was both a cripple and a man returned from war, which left him with nowhere else to turn. He had to make a decision.

  “My maid.”

  Arabella was beside him in a moment, hurrying the young woman into the arbour in front of her.

  “Are you quite well, Jacob? You look a little… fraught, although I suppose that is to be understood.”

  Jacob patted her hand, pasting a smile over his broken heart. “I am quite well, Arabella,” he said, softly. “I came out of the arbour to allow Lord Halesworthy and his sister some time alone.”

  Arabella smiled and nodded her understanding. “That is good of you,” she whispered, evidently aware of the guests who were still walking through the gardens, quite close by. “My maid is most discreet and once I explained what it was that I required her for, she made sure to exit the house without coming through the ballroom. She has been most careful and I am quite sure that only one or two guests might have seen her and, even with that, will not have thought much of it.” She leaned into him, her sigh heavy as she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. Jacob did not hesitate, but pulled her close, closing his eyes tightly as his throat began to ache with a deep, unrelenting pain.

  “You have done very well, Arabella,” he said, softly, his lips near her ear. “Do you think Miss Halesworthy will be quite ruined? Or is it not as bad as it might appear?”

  Arabella looked up at him, her face close to his. “I think there may be a few rumours that we will need to quash,” she said, honestly. “I fear that Lord Pettigrew, for whatever reason, wished to ruin Miss Halesworthy and then boast about it. I cannot understand the fellow. The whispers were already starting in the ballroom as I left again to meet my maid, but I have a plan as to what we might do in order to put an end to them.”

  “Oh?” Jacob took her in, seeing the steely glint in Arabella’s eye and finding himself almost proud of her determination and strength. In that moment, he found her more beautiful than ever before, cursing himself silently for the lack of courage he himself had shown.

  “Indeed,” Arabella replied, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “It may mean drawing some attention to ourselves and indeed, it may also mean that there might be some whispers about the closeness of our acquaintance, but given that we are to announce our engagement soon, I cannot think that to be too terrible a consequence.”

  Jacob swallowed hard, not quite sure what to say.

  “We will walk into the ballroom, as though we four have enjoyed a walk in the gardens. Lord Halesworthy will talk to someone or other, accompanied by his sister, as well as both you and I. Thereby, he will announce in a loud voice that Lord Pettigrew is spreading baseless rumours and that he has been walking with his sister in the gardens, accompanied by us both. We shall, of course, agree with this, and Lord Halesworthy shall then demand that if Lord Pettigrew does not apologise for such terrible stories, that he shall then be called out.” She tipped her head and smiled, although the glint in her eye did not fade. “I have a suspicion that Lord Pettigrew does not have a good deal of courage.”

  It was a good idea, Jacob had to admit, although he was a little concerned that Lord Winchester would not like to be foiled in such a way. Nor would Lord Winchester like that there would be whispers about himself and Lady Arabella – but it could not be helped, he supposed. Miss Halesworthy’s reputation had to be protected as best they could, and he was not about to turn his back on the lady now.

  “You have not said anything, Jacob.”

  Arabella’s voice was gentle and yet there was concern in her voice.

  “I am sorry,” Jacob replied, slowly, knowing that he needed to hide his worries over Lord Winchester entirely. “That is very wise, Arabella. I would be glad to support you in this.”

  Arabella looked relieved. “I am glad,” she said, reaching down to catch his hand with hers. “Now, shall we go and see how Miss Halesworthy fares? My maid works quickly and I am quite sure she will ready Miss Halesworthy in only a few minutes.” She smiled up at him again, and Jacob could not help but drop a kiss on her lips, feeling his heart searing with pain as he did so.

  Whatever was he going to do?

  Chapter Fifteen

  “My lord?”

  Jacob looked up from his accounting, aware that he had not heard the butler’s scratch at the door.

  “My apologies,” he said, gesturing for the man to come in. “What is it?”

  “You have an urgent note, my lord,” the butler said, holding out a silver tray where Jacob saw a small, folded piece of paper with a blue ribbon tied around it.

  “Urgent?” he repeated, picking it up. “What do you mean?”

  The butler cleared his throat. “A young lad brought it to the house, my lord, and insisted that you be given it at once.”

  “I see.” Jacob frowned, wondering who could be writing to him so urgently. If there was anything wrong as regarded Arabella, surely she would have just come to call upon him? “And is the boy still waiting?”

  “No,” the butler said, his normally placid face now appearing a little confused. “I did ask if he was to wait for an answer, but he said that he had not been instructed to wait.”

  “Very curious,” Jacob murmured, feeling as confused as the butler. “Well, I thank you. I shall read it immediately.” The butler took his leave at once, closing the study door behind Jacob.

  Frowning hard and feeling his stomach knot with tension, Jacob pulled off the blue ribbon and carefully unfolded the note. There had been no seal, which made him suspicious that whomever had written the note did not want to be identified by Jacob’s staff.

  The moment Jacob’s eyes fell on the page, he knew precisely why that was.

  The note was from Lord Winchester who, it seemed, was most displeased with what Jacob had done last evening, in aiding Miss Halesworthy.

  Irate, in fact.

  Jacob closed his eyes tightly, drew in a steadying breath, and forced himself to read each line carefully.

  ‘St. Leger,’ it began. ‘You will, no doubt, not be at all surprised that I am rather irate about what occurred last evening. Miss Halesworthy’s reputation, it seems, is to remain untouched, thanks to both your and Lady Arabella’s assurances that she had been present with yourselves and Lord Halesworthy. I saw this and have heard the whispers that came thereafter, as regards your acquaintanc
e with Lady Arabella. As you can imagine, St. Leger, this is not what I intended.’

  “No indeed,” Jacob murmured aloud, his heart sinking towards the floor.

  ‘Therefore,’ the letter continued. ‘I am demanding your decision this very day. I will not allow you the three days I once offered. You will burn this letter and, thereafter, write to me with your decision. If the day’s end is reached and I have heard nothing from you, then I shall know that you have left your sister’s fate in my hands. Whom do you love more, St. Leger? And whom shall you choose?’

  Jacob crumped the note in his hand, the blue ribbon still on his desk. His anger grew steadily, but with it came the slow sense of growing hopelessness. What was he to do? He had no solution to this terrifying dilemma, for the question of whom he cared the most for had no easy answer. The love he had for his sister did not diminish with the love that he felt growing for Arabella. And yet, to turn his back on Arabella was too terrible a thought to bear.

  Lord Winchester had him captured, and Jacob could feel the knots tightening. It was an impossible choice and one that he did not think he could make.

  “My lord?”

  The scratch at the door came again but Jacob could not even lift his voice to answer, such was his struggle.

  “My lord, you have a visitor.”

  Jacob cleared his throat and gruffly managed to call the butler to enter, wondering who it was that had come to visit him so early in the day.

  “Lady Arabella, my lord.”

  His heart did not lift with joy, nor did he feel any delight whatsoever at seeing her smile as she walked into the room. Rising to greet her, his limbs feeling heavy and wooden, his mind dull and spirits low, Jacob could not so much as muster a smile.

  “Jacob!” Arabella exclaimed, looking him up and down. “Good heavens, whatever is wrong with you? Are you unwell?”

  “Unwell?” he repeated, his voice no more than a croak.

  “You are!” Arabella looked quite horrified for a moment, pressing one hand to his forehead. “Although you are not fevered at least. Whatever is wrong, my love?”