His jaw worked, his eyes suddenly lit with a strange fire that seemed to encapsulate every part of his expression. His fair hair seemed to glow in the sunshine, a faint hint of color in his cheeks as he looked down at her. There was an internal fight raging, she realized, holding his gaze steadily with a growing sense of confidence.
“I think I do not have any other choice, Lady Stanley,” he replied, letting out a long breath and his shoulders slumping as he did so. “You have convinced me of it.” Tilting his head just a little to the side, he regarded her closely. “You say that I am to rely upon my friends. Does that mean, therefore, than you consider yourself to be one?”
Arabella felt her heart fluttering wildly, her stomach twisting in fierce knots as she steadied herself for what she must say.
“I would consider myself more than that, Lord Fitzpatrick,” she replied slowly, every word seeming to burn her lips. “I am not only your friend, I am your wife.”
7
Anthony could not breathe.
He swayed heavily, his hand reaching out to rest upon Lady Stanley’s shoulder as he tried to steady himself.
Those words rang around and around in his head, making him dizzy with the weight of them.
It could not be.
“I am sorry to have told you now,” Lady Stanley said, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I have been so afraid of what I would find when I first came in search of you. I sought advice and was convinced to pretend I was not your wife, to see whether or not you would ever recognize me.”
A groan slipped from his mouth, and he closed his eyes tightly, shame covering him like a garment.
“I wanted to discover the truth as to why you had neglected me these last three years,” she continued, her hand still tight on his arm and her voice growing a trifle stronger as she spoke. “I did not want to reveal myself to you for fear that you would not speak to me with honesty. Lady Landerbelt convinced me that—”
“Lady Landerbelt?” Anthony replied, sharply, looking at her. “You mean, Lady Landerbelt is aware of…all of this?”
She nodded, a flash of guilt crossing her face. “I confess that she is,” she replied hoarsely. “I am sorry if I have done you any wrong, my lord, but it is only that I grew so tired and lonely being back at the estate, with no word from you other than the occasional letter.” Tears grew in her eyes and, to Anthony’s utter shame, began to trickle down her cheeks. “I thought that I was to blame for your absence. My father wrote a harsh letter to me shortly after we were wed, declaring that I had brought mortification down upon your head. I am sorry that I left you without so much as a backwards glance, but I could not bear to remain at the church when so many were—”
“Stop.”
Anthony’s voice was breaking, his emotions running so wildly that he felt as though he could not quite keep them under control. His heart was aching with all that he had put Lady Fitzpatrick through, pained beyond belief that not only had he not recognized her, he now had her apologizing to him for what she believed to be wrongdoing on her part.
“Stop, Arabella,” he said softly, seeing her eyes flare as he used her name. “I cannot allow you to continue speaking to me in such a way. I will not have it, do you understand?”
She swallowed and nodded, her cheeks going crimson as she looked away.
“I do not want to berate you,” he continued, reaching for her hand and holding it in his. Seeing a bench just behind her, he led her towards it, feeling as though he were walking into a startling yet very real dream. Once she had seated herself, he attempted to sit down beside her, only for his astonishment, confusion, and regret to push him to his feet again.
“I do not want to hear a word of apology from your lips, Arabella,” he said, beginning to pace up and down in front of her and finding himself relieved that the park was, mercifully, still quite empty. “None of this is your doing. It is I who should be on my knees before you, begging your forgiveness for all you have endured.”
“But I understand it now,” she said quickly, her eyes fixed on his. “I came to London filled with sorrow, doubt, and grief, but now I understand what it is you have endured and why you were unable to return to me. I do not hold it against you, just as I do not think that Lord Thompson will either.”
Anthony closed his eyes tightly, wondering what it was he had done in this miserable life of his to deserve such a wife as Arabella. “You are utterly wonderful, Arabella,” he said, opening his eyes to see her dabbing at her eyes again. “You have remained strong in my absence and took it upon yourself to return here in order to find me and demand the truth. I will not berate you for your decision to go about things as you did, for I can well understand your lack of understanding when it came to my absence, as well as your fears that I might not speak the truth to you.” Shaking his head, he ran one hand through his hair and took in a long, pronounced breath in an attempt to calm himself a little more. “But I have told you it regardless, thinking that you thought me nothing more than a thief. And yet, even though you witnessed me rummaging through another man’s private things, you allowed me the opportunity to tell you everything.” His heart slammed into his chest, as though to remind him that he was less than deserving of this incredible young woman. “I have been asked to find letters pertaining to a…deep friendship between Lord Winton and Lady Franks. Obviously, Lord Hollander has been approached by someone who wishes to reveal this affair to either some particular people or to the beau monde as a whole – although for what ends, I cannot understand. Lord Winton did not have the letters, which means that I am now to search Lady Franks’ bedchamber for them.” He saw Arabella’s eyes widen and blew out a long breath. “Although just how I am meant to do such a thing, I cannot say.”
“It is quite simple,” Arabella replied, with a brief smile that was, to Anthony’s eyes, filled with utter relief. “You are not going to search Lady Franks’ house in any way. Nor are you going to bring Lord Thompson to that room so that he might be unfairly set up. It is going to come to an end, Lord Fitzpatrick. You do not have to fight this alone any longer.”
A lump appeared in his throat, and Anthony swallowed it away as quickly as he could. He had never expected his wife to be so willing to forgive him, nor to show him such understanding. Just to think of her and all she had endured had made him shy away from the thought of ever returning to her side – but now, here she was, filled with compassion and forgiveness in a way that he had never thought possible.
It was more than he deserved.
“You are not angry with me, I hope?”
Anthony’s brows rose in surprise at his wife’s question. “Angry with you?”
“For deceiving you,” she said slowly, her eyes suddenly downcast. “For not telling you the truth from the start.”
He sank down beside her and reached for her hands, which she gave willingly. Her face was a trifle pale, her eyes searching his face as he smiled at her gently.
“I could never hold anything against you, Arabella, not after what we have gone through together,” he said with honesty. “I have been battling my troubles here alone in London, and you have endured loneliness and confusion at my expense. I have nothing but admiration for you, my dear. Even the thought of my actions on the day of our wedding brings me nothing but utter shame.” He pressed her hands and saw a faint ripple of color climb into her cheeks. “How you managed to keep your composure in light of all that was going on around you, I cannot tell,” he continued. “When I heard that you had gone to the estate without me, when I was sober enough to realize what I had done, I thought it best to leave you for a time so that I might both consider my actions and work out what I was to do with Lord Hollander.” Closing his eyes, he took a breath and let it ripple out of him. “I never once imagined that I would find myself in the very same situation some three years later.”
“I am glad to know that I have not displeased you,” she replied softly. “Now that I understand, I do not hold your absence against you –
although I will confess that I have never quite been able to forget what occurred on the day of our wedding.” He saw the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth and felt himself fill with regret.
“If I could go back and have our wedding day again, then I would not so much as think about touching the brandy,” he swore, hating his past actions. “Nor would I have drunk so much as to forget your beautiful face.” A blush mounted in her cheeks, but he did not lift his eyes from her gaze. “You must have looked like a queen that day, and yet I do not remember a single moment of it. That is a regret that I will carry with me until the end of my days.” His fingers laced through hers. “You must forgive me also for not recognizing you when you first appeared.”
“I already have,” she stated, her hands gentle in his. “There is nothing more to say about the matter. If we are at an understanding, then we need not look back upon the past.”
His smile stretched wide. “Then you must move to our townhouse, where you belong, Lady Fitzpatrick,” he declared, suddenly caught with the idea of having her by his side and of finally having the opportunity to develop their relationship further. His mind began to burn with questions, throwing themselves over one another in their attempt to reach the forefront of his mind. “There is so much I want to ask you, so much I need to learn about you. I want to be your friend, your companion, your confidante, Arabella.”
Her laugh brought a brightness to his heart that he had never experienced before. “And there will be time for that, Lord Fitzpatrick,” she said, reaching up to brush her fingers across his cheek. “But there is first the issue at hand.” Her expression grew serious. “We must deal with Lord Hollander. Thereafter, I will be content for the world to know that I am your wife and that you are my husband. But, for the moment, we must continue on as we are.”
Disappointment crushed him, but he nodded his understanding, seeing that she was wise in all that she said. “I will state honestly that I do not want to let you go from my sight, Arabella. Now that I know the truth of who you are, I fear that I can barely contain it.”
Her eyes were tender. “But you must, for your own sake,” she replied with a warm smile. “Although I think that when we meet with Lord Thompson you will have to inform him of the truth of my identity.”
“As you will to Lady Ward,” he replied, only for something to nag at his mind. “Wait a moment. Is she not—?”
“She is my elder sister,” Arabella laughed. “Yes, she and I were both thrust into marriages of arrangement although her husband was a good deal older than she and has left her as a young widow.” The smile faded from her eyes, her expression becoming serious. “Although Lord Thompson appears quite determined in his intentions.”
He nodded, everything slowly beginning to come together in his mind. “When shall we next meet then? I presume Lady Landerbelt will be present also?”
“I think it would be best if she were,” Arabella replied. “There is much she has already done, not only for myself but for others. She may know more than we do.”
“Then so it shall be,” he declared with a broad smile. “Then you must come to dine tomorrow evening. I shall invite Lord Thompson, Lady Landerbelt, yourself, and Lady Ward. Nothing shall be untoward there, surely.”
“No, indeed not,” Arabella replied, her hand settling over their two joined ones. “I shall be glad to see my London home for the first time.”
His heart wrenched in his chest, suddenly desperate to have her by his side. The fighting attraction towards her that he had thrown aside and ignored for the days of their short acquaintance suddenly came back to life within him. The knowledge of who she was to him now allowed him to delight in her emerald eyes, to allow her beautiful features to fill every corner of his mind. But it was more than that. It was her character, her gentle nature, and her forgiving spirit that drew him close to her. It was as though he were seeing her for the first time all over again, but in the knowledge of who she really was to him. The power of the moment took his breath away.
“I think I should return to my sister.”
Arabella’s gentle words broke through his haze of amazement and wonder, making him jump slightly in surprise.
“She will be wondering where I have gone to, and I should inform her of what has occurred just as soon as possible,” she continued, slowly pulling her fingers out of his. “I am sorry to leave you, but I think it is for the best.”
“I think you are right,” he replied, silently considering just how wise his young wife was. “Until tomorrow evening then?”
She nodded and rose to her feet. “Until tomorrow, Lord Fitzpatrick.”
“Just ‘Fitzpatrick,’ I think,” he replied, grasping her hand and bowing over it. “That is perfectly suitable for a wife to address her husband.” When he looked up at her from his bow, he saw that her cheeks were a dusky pink and her eyes seemingly filled with stars. Perhaps there might be the hope that she could be drawn to him in the way he continued to feel pulled towards her.
“Good afternoon then, Fitzpatrick,” she replied, as he reluctantly let go of her hand. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.”
“As do I,” he replied, hating that she had to walk away from him but feeling his heart lift to the skies as she did so. Finally, he could taste the very first hints of freedom that Lord Hollander had kept from him for so long – and it was all thanks to his wonderful, astonishing wife, Lady Arabella Fitzpatrick.
8
Walking into what was her townhouse and yet being greeted as one of the guests was a trifle odd, Arabella had to admit. The butler greeted them politely and took their things before gesturing them towards the drawing room, where Lord Fitzpatrick was waiting.
“Lord Thompson was to attend also, did you say?” Cecelia asked, her expression a little anxious. “Are you quite sure he was to be in attendance?”
“Quite certain,” Arabella replied, a little confused. “Do you not wish him to be present?”
Much to her surprise, Arabella saw Cecelia’s cheeks flare red, her eyes darting away from Arabella’s gaze.
“My, my,” Lady Landerbelt laughed, putting a hand affectionately on Cecelia’s arm. “Can it be that you are quite taken with the fellow? I thought you were determined to remain on your own, Cecelia!”
Cecelia, whose face had now gone a deep shade of scarlet, hushed both Lady Landerbelt and Arabella’s exclamation of surprise as they approached the drawing room. “That is not what I meant at all,” she said, much too gruffly for Arabella to believe her to be genuine. “It is merely that I find he pays me an inordinate amount of attention and that, oft times, it can be difficult to extract oneself from it.”
“I see,” Arabella replied, sharing a knowing look with Lady Landerbelt. “I think him quite a decent fellow, all things considered, Cecelia. I do not think there is any need to feel ashamed.”
“I do not feel ashamed,” Cecelia replied, a trifle too loudly just as the door was opened for them by a footman. Arabella hid her laugh as she walked inside, her stomach suddenly filled with butterflies as Lord Fitzpatrick turned to look at her from where he had been standing.
“You have arrived at last,” he said, hurrying over towards Arabella and ignoring Lady Landerbelt and Cecelia entirely. Gripping her hands, he looked earnestly into her face, his blue eyes filled with both relief and gladness. “I have been waiting for you with such eagerness that it has quite overcome me.”
Arabella, who had not yet told her sister or Lady Landerbelt that the truth was known to Lord Fitzpatrick, laughed at their astonished looks, feeling heat climb into her face as she gestured helplessly. “I did not inform you that Lord Fitzpatrick is aware of the truth of my identity,” she said, wishing she could scrub the redness from her cheeks. “It was only yesterday afternoon, during our conversation together in town. The urge to tell him the truth grew steadily, and I have not had any cause to regret it.”
Lady Landerbelt was the first to recover herself. “I see,” she said slowly, he
r eyes still slightly rounded. “Then I am glad for you both, truly.”
“I do want to thank you for your advice to Arabella—as to how best to deal with me and my lack of respect and civility towards her,” Lord Fitzpatrick said, finally letting go of Arabella’s hands so that he might incline his head towards Lady Landerbelt. “You were quite correct to do so, for if I had known the truth, then I would have refused to say a word to Arabella about the struggles I am currently facing. I would have had great difficulty in explaining myself and, most likely, would have given some terrible explanation that would have set myself and my wife even further apart, with no hope of reconciliation.” He shrugged, now bearing a slightly self-conscious look in his features. “Now, however, it seems that I have told my wife the truth without being aware that it was to her I was speaking. She knows everything and has encouraged me to find the support and the help I need from others.”
Cecelia, who until this point had remained quite silent, shot Arabella a quick look – a look that told Arabella that her sister had very little understanding of what was occurring and that she was still greatly concerned on Arabella’s behalf.
“Mayhap we should wait until Lord Thompson has arrived before we speak of such matters,” she suggested, turning to look up into Lord Fitzpatrick’s face and finding such a warmth in his eyes that she could barely look away. “Otherwise you will have to explain yourself on two separate occasions.”
Lord Fitzpatrick nodded his agreement. “But of course. I cannot think what has kept Lord Thompson. He is never tardy.”
As though he had heard his name being mentioned, the door was pushed open and Lord Thompson was shown into the room. Arabella curtsied quickly, a little surprised to see the grave expression on Lord Thompson’s face.
Regency Engagements Box Set Page 24
