Regency Engagements Box Set

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Regency Engagements Box Set Page 25

by Charlotte Fitzwilliam


  “Good evening,” Lord Thompson began, bowing towards the ladies and then giving Lord Fitzpatrick a short, jerky nod. “I do apologize for my late arrival. I was caught up with a certain matter and could not easily remove myself from it.”

  “Oh?” Arabella heard Lord Fitzpatrick say, his voice betraying the same curiosity that was in her own heart. “Was it anything of particular interest?”

  Lord Thompson’s brows lowered, his expression growing dark. “This is, mayhap, something that I should speak to you about in private, Fitzpatrick. You have guests and I would not wish to bring despondency to the group.” For whatever reason, his eyes lingered on Arabella for just a moment too long, making her stomach swirl with a sudden anxiety.

  “I think that you will be quite welcome to speak freely here,” Lord Fitzpatrick said, gesturing for them all to sit down as they waited for the dinner gong to sound. “There is nothing to concern you in that, Lord Thompson.”

  Lord Thompson shook his head. “As I have said, it is of a delicate matter, Fitzpatrick,” he said, trying to put an easiness into his voice but failing entirely. “I think it best that—”

  “Oh, do tell us what it is,” said Cecelia, with great exasperation. “We are already expecting to have a few truths spoken to us this evening and so you may as well be the first, Lord Thompson.”

  Arabella watched as Lord Thompson’s gaze came to rest on her sister. His expression lightened almost instantly, as though just the sight of her brought him a good deal of relief.

  “I do not quite understand,” Lord Thompson said slowly, looking back at Lord Fitzpatrick, “but if you insist upon it, then I shall do so.” A small sigh left him, as though he were being forced to speak when he did not wish to do anything of the sort. “There is a nasty rumor going about, Lord Fitzpatrick, and it involves you.”

  Arabella sat up a little straighter, her body immediately tense. Lord Fitzpatrick had not moved although his eyes were still fixed completely on Lord Thompson. “What does this rumor say, Lord Thompson?” she found herself asking, suddenly desperate to know the truth. “Is it to be harmful to Lord Fitzpatrick?”

  Again came that long look that had Arabella’s heart quickening in fright.

  “It states that he was seen in Lord Winton’s private rooms at the last ball,” Lord Thompson said, giving Lord Fitzpatrick a long look. “The gentleman has not found anything missing from his possessions, however, which is something of a relief – although, unfortunately, it has now been suggested that Lord Fitzpatrick was there in order to…meet…with another.” His eyes turned away, a slight flare of color bursting up into his cheeks. “That is, if you understand my meaning.”

  For some moments, Arabella did not quite realize what Lord Thompson meant. It was only when she heard Cecelia’s swift gasp of surprise that she finally understood.

  “The rumor is that he went to meet with me, is that not so?” she asked, giving her husband a long look and seeing him give her a small, understanding smile in return. “If that is what you have heard, Lord Thompson, I would have you speak of it now.”

  Lord Thompson cleared his throat and looked away, his expression still rather embarrassed. “It is,” he agreed, somewhat solemnly. “I am sorry, Lady Stanley, but—”

  “It is Lady Fitzpatrick, actually,” Arabella interrupted, almost feeling the shock that came ricocheting towards her from Lord Thompson. “You see, Lord Thompson? You have no need to concern yourself as regards this particular rumor, for, as you can see, it is quite true.”

  “It is almost true,” Lord Fitzpatrick interrupted quickly. “You and I did not have an assignation there, and I did, in fact, search through Lord Winton’s things.” He got to his feet just as the dinner bell sounded. “There is a good deal to explain, I know, but we should do so over a delicious meal, which, I hope, will be to your satisfaction.” He spread out one arm towards the door and the guests rose as one, with Arabella fully aware of Lord Thompson’s wide eyes and slightly ajar mouth. She wanted desperately to laugh, to break the sudden tension that had formed across the room but found that she could not.

  “I do hope that you are quite safe married to such a gentleman,” Cecelia murmured, as they made their way towards the door. “I do not understand why he was searching through another gentleman’s private correspondence and the like!” Her eyes searched Arabella’s face, her pallor a touch paler than before.

  “You have no need to concern yourself, my dear sister,” Arabella reassured her. “I speak the truth, not simply to reassure you but because I know that you will understand. In an hour or so, you will see things as they really are, and I have no doubt that you will be filled with nothing more than sympathy and compassion.” She smiled brightly at her sister, glancing towards Lady Landerbelt, who had fixed her sharp gaze upon Lord Thompson, who was speaking in hushed tones to Lord Fitzpatrick. “I am quite certain that everything will become clear.”

  Arabella was not mistaken. By the time the port was served to the gentlemen and the tea tray to the ladies – for Lord Fitzpatrick begged the ladies to stay with them at the table in order to finish their conversation – Arabella could see that both Cecelia and Lady Landerbelt had quite changed their opinions of Lord Fitzpatrick.

  “You have been through a very great deal,” Lady Landerbelt said softly, stirring her tea with a small silver spoon. “I am sorry for your struggle, Lord Fitzpatrick.”

  He shrugged. “It has been my own foolishness that has kept me from sharing it with anyone,” he replied, casting a warm look towards Arabella. “Had it not been for Arabella catching me searching through Lord Winton’s things, then I might now still be entirely on my own, looking for a way to escape Lord Hollander but being quite unable to do so.”

  Cecelia nodded slowly, her brow deeply furrowed. “It is a matter of grave seriousness,” she said quietly, her gaze resting on the table as though if she stared at the delicate tablecloth long enough, it would give her the answers they sought. “I am sorry for what you have had to endure, Lord Fitzpatrick, and in a way, I suppose I should be grateful that you have desired to keep my sister from such difficulties.”

  Lord Fitzpatrick nodded slowly, his eyes resting on Arabella. Arabella smiled at him in reassurance, filled with relief that he had not only spoken the truth, but that it had been accepted by both Lady Landerbelt and her sister.

  “This is why I knew you would have nothing but compassion for what is a terribly difficult situation,” she said, catching Cecelia’s eye. “I knew that you would feel the same as I, although I confess that my forgiveness was not as swift as my understanding!”

  “Which is more than acceptable,” Lord Fitzpatrick replied quickly, spreading his hands. “I would not have demanded forgiveness from you, Arabella, not when I have behaved so cruelly.”

  There was a brief silence thereafter, which allowed Arabella’s thoughts to run in whichever direction they chose. She was glad, of course, that the truth had been made known to Lord Thompson, Lady Landerbelt, and Cecelia, but the fact remained that Lord Fitzpatrick had to do as was asked of him, in order to keep the rumors about his mother quite safe. There seemed to be no simple way to remove Lord Fitzpatrick from Lord Hollander’s grasp.

  “I am exceedingly grateful that you spoke to me of such a thing,” Lord Thompson said gruffly, breaking the silence. “I would not have been pleased to find myself in such a situation, that is quite certain.”

  As Arabella watched, she saw Lord Thompson’s gaze shift towards Cecelia and, much to her surprise, her sister did not look away nor clear her throat nor shift uncomfortably in her seat. In fact, the only thing she did was to smile back at Lord Thompson with such a warmth in her expression that Arabella was quite taken aback. She had always believed her sister to be quite unfavorably disposed towards the idea of being married again, and yet, here she was, practically batting her eyelashes in Lord Thompson’s direction!

  “Could you not…?” Lady Landerbelt began to speak, only to stop short and shake her head, a
heavy sigh escaping her. “No, it is quite foolish.”

  “What were you to say, Lady Landerbelt?” Cecelia asked, sitting up a little straighter and turning to her friend. “Please, speak. I think that any suggestion at this present time would be welcome.”

  A few murmurings of agreement met Cecelia’s words, and Lady Landerbelt sighed and shook her head.

  “It is quite foolish, of course, but to save Lord Thompson from his current predicament, I would suggest that he either ensures that he is not alone in that room when Lord Thompson takes him there, as he is expected to do. Either that, or you find a lady of quality that you think would be more than suitable as your bride and you propose to her before the ball itself. That way, you are freed from your mother’s plans, even though it does not bring an end to Lord Hollander’s conniving ways towards Lord Fitzpatrick.”

  Arabella hid a smile as she saw Cecelia’s face slowly infuse with color at Lady Landerbelt’s suggestion. Lord Thompson put one finger to his cravat and tugged at it for a moment, as if it had suddenly become too tight.

  “The first, I think, would be more than suitable,” he said, somewhat gruffly. “I hardly think that I should be able to procure such a lady within the next few days.”

  Lady Landerbelt’s smile was broad, and Arabella could not help but laugh softly to herself at the sudden tension that flooded between her sister and Lord Thompson. It had suddenly become very apparent and left Arabella with little doubt that there was something significant between the gentleman and her sister.

  “When Lord Fitzpatrick comes to your side to chivvy you along to a certain room or other,” Lady Landerbelt began, her eyes twinkling as she glanced around the table. “Then either myself and Lady Fitzpatrick, or myself and Lady Ward, will accompany you both. We will only be but a few steps behind you, and the moment Lord Fitzpatrick leaves the room – so that you may be found in a somewhat compromising position – we shall enter and ensure that such a thing does not take place. That means that Lord Fitzpatrick will have done precisely what he was asked to do and therefore cannot be held accountable for such a thing failing entirely.”

  This seemed to be a good idea until Lord Fitzpatrick shook his head. “No, Lord Hollander will know that there is something afoot, I am certain of it. He will have heard the rumors about myself and Lady ‘Stanley’–” He cast a quick, tight smile in Arabella’s direction. “And he will be aware that Lord Thompson has been paying specific attention to Lady Ward.”

  “Then I shall go on my own,” Lady Landerbelt interrupted, only for Lord Fitzpatrick to shake his head again.

  “You are well known amongst the ton,” he said, looking greatly troubled. “People are aware that if there is a difficulty, then they can come to you for aid.”

  Arabella closed her eyes, a sudden, fierce pain biting at her heart. “And Lord Hollander could then think that you had spoken to Lady Landerbelt of your troubles, which is precisely what you have done,” she said, seeing her husband nod. “It seems quite impossible then.”

  “No,” Lady Landerbelt replied, sounding fiercely determined. “It is not to be impossible. We shall find a way, I am certain of it.” She slammed one fist down on the table, startling Arabella completely. “I will not allow such a fiend to continue on with his dastardly ways, not when he has injured so many people.”

  Slowly, so slowly, the very beginnings of an idea began to creep into Arabella’s mind. Pressing one hand to her heart, she stared at her husband, a light beginning to shine in her eyes.

  Lord Fitzpatrick, upon noticing this, looked back at her in surprise. “What is it, Arabella?” he asked, leaning forward across the table so that he might look at her more carefully. “What is it you are thinking?”

  “I have it,” Arabella whispered, her eyes shining as a fresh hope began to beat wildly in her heart. “I think I have it. A way to remove Lord Hollander’s grasp on you, Fitzpatrick, but also on society as a whole. It will take a little courage on my part and, Lady Landerbelt, I will require your expertise, but I think that there is a way to bring this all to a neat conclusion.”

  Lady Landerbelt smiled at her, as her husband sat back in his chair, his expression something between relief and surprise.

  “Then start at the beginning, Arabella,” Lady Landerbelt said, looking delightedly back at her. “And make sure to explain everything.”

  9

  “Can you see him?”

  Anthony waved one hand in Arabella’s direction, wanting her to remain silent. His heart was quickening at a furious pace, his nervousness growing steadily.

  “Wait, Arabella,” he whispered, knowing that his wife was, most likely, as nervous as he. “There is no sign of him leaving as yet.”

  Thankfully, Arabella fell silent, leaving him to continue to watch the front of the house, his heart now hammering furiously. This was, as far as he was concerned, one of the most dangerous of all his endeavors thus far, but when Arabella had finished explaining herself some three days before over dinner, he had been forced to identify that this was the only way to remove himself entirely from Lord Hollander’s grasp.

  Lord Masterton’s ball was to be tomorrow evening, which meant that Anthony had to ensure that he had all he needed by this evening. Arabella was by his side, ready to take on her part, and Lady Landerbelt would soon be riding past in her carriage, stopping some distance away so that they could make their escape.

  “There! There!”

  Anthony hushed Arabella with a finger to his lips, seeing the light in her eyes and realizing, with shock, that she was, in fact, quite enjoying this escapade. Was it that she found enjoyment in the actions they were to take, or was it the hope that this would, in the end, bring about a happiness that neither of them had been able to experience thus far? If they were successful, then there would be no need for him to fear anyone or anything any longer. They would both be able to retire to his estate and Arabella would not have to live there alone. His heart thumped wildly in his chest – but this time, it was not from nervousness or anxiety. Instead, it came from the sudden jolt that was brought about by the thought of taking Arabella back home as his wife. Anthony could not deny that there was a deep, fierce attraction growing within him, as well as an admiration for her strength of character and sharp mind. He truly had been blessed in his choice of bride!

  His eyes narrowed slightly as he pressed his face as close to the hackney window as he dared. The gentleman, it appeared, was now climbing into his own carriage, ready to make his way to whatever event it was that he had been invited to this evening. There had been no need to come up with an extra invitation, for it was the height of the Season and gentlemen such as Lord Hollander would be out amongst society every evening possible.

  The carriage began to roll slowly towards them, and Anthony suddenly caught his breath. If Lord Hollander were to look out of his window and see them, then all could be lost.

  He turned his head away quickly, looking down into Arabella’s face and seeing her wide eyes staring back at him. There was no time for explanations, no time to tell her that they needed to hide themselves – so Anthony did the only thing he could think of.

  Kissing Arabella was one of the sweetest moments of Anthony’s life. The shock of pressing his lips to hers so fiercely swept over him as he pulled her close, hiding both his face and her own from the prying eyes of Lord Hollander. He could hear the carriage rumbling past them, heard the sound of the horses hooves on the cobbled street begin to grow distant - but yet, he did not stop.

  Arabella had frozen beneath his touch for a moment, but slowly, she was beginning to respond to him. Instead of the stiffness and tightness that had been there at the first, she was now melting, her body softening as she leaned into him. His mind was filled with color, his heart almost leaping from his chest with delight. Angling his head, Anthony deepened the kiss all the more, his whole being coming alive as she slipped her hands about his neck, the tips of her fingers in his hair.

  A shuddering sigh escaped he
r lips as he broke the kiss, her eyes still tightly closed as she held him there. She did not look away, nor appear embarrassed or confused. Instead, as he watched her in the flickering, gloomy light of the lanterns that lined the streets, he saw that she was smiling softly.

  His own lips crept up in relief, aware that his passions had been roused in such a way as he had never experienced before. His heart was filling with an affection for the lady in his arms, his mind caught up with none but her. Was it possible that he could be falling in love with Arabella? It was not something he had ever considered, not even when his mother had stated that he was to wed this particular young lady. He had simply thought her a good match and so had agreed to it without much consideration – but now, he found himself so filled with her that it was as though he could not let her go.

  “That was a trifle unexpected, Lord Fitzpatrick,” Arabella said, her voice husky and her arms still about his neck. “Not that I am in any way shocked or disapproving, you understand.” The note of mirth in her voice made him laugh, his finger brushing down her soft cheek.

  “I am glad you do not disapprove,” he said, honestly. “It was only that Lord Hollander’s carriage was to drive past the hackney, and I thought he might see us both and recognize our faces.”

  “Oh.”

  The life had gone from Arabella’s voice, her shoulders slumping as her hands fell from his neck.

  “It was something that I have wanted to do for some days now,” he said, catching her hands in his and squeezing them gently. “Do not misunderstand me, Arabella.”

  Her eyes lifted to his again, and Anthony found himself short of breath such was the depths in her eyes.

  “I see,” she answered, her smile returning to her as relief captured his soul. “Then you will be glad to know that I hope it shall not be too long until I find myself in your embrace again.” She held his gaze for another moment, before clearing her throat and sitting up a little straighter. “And now, it is time for you to depart, Fitzpatrick. I shall be ten minutes behind you.”

 

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