Healing The Broken Marchioness (Laced Up Ladies Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  David made a face. “Maybe it’s because I’m too clean that he’s trying to unnerve me.”

  But then he thought, not that clean. He couldn’t be. Or the woman he loved wouldn’t have disappeared out of his life without a word.

  Chapter Three

  “He unnerves everyone, David,” Peter said. “You just have to learn when to pick your battles. You can’t pick a fight with him because Simpson comes back twice as hard.”

  “He’s done that with you, has he?”

  Peter nodded and made a face. “I learned the hard way about that man.”

  David didn’t want to know. Peter had a habit of exaggerating things. It was something that all sailors did; they told of daring adventures on the high seas to impress everyone, when all they did was simply transport cargo. David didn’t even think Peter had encountered any pirates, but the stories did make him smile.

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “You pay the money back. The one hundred you originally borrowed. You’ve made a note of the lending, haven’t you?”

  “I always do.”

  David was meticulous in his bookkeeping. He made sure that he was on top of everything, including the rare times he needed to find money elsewhere.

  “There you go. You go with that. He can’t extort money out of you as you’re not going to be late and you’re planning on paying him back because you’re a good man who always keeps his slate clean.” Peter spread his hands. “The man’s just greedy and the power he thinks he possesses has gone to his head.”

  “He’s a bastard,” David growled.

  Peter chuckled. “I couldn’t agree more, but antagonizing him isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  Peter stood and headed towards the drinks cabinet by the fireplace. David slumped back against the cushions and pressed his hands over his face. This day had not gone as well as he had hoped. Tomorrow could not come soon enough. He couldn’t wait to get home and get back to work. That was what kept him happy.

  Only one other thing in life had kept him happy, but she had gone a long time ago. David didn’t think he was going to get her back.

  “Here.”

  David looked up. Peter was standing over him, holding out a chunky glass with brown liquid swirling around.

  “Drink it. You look like you need it.”

  David shook his head. “You know I don’t drink, Peter.”

  “Only in the last eight years. I’ve got to keep trying.”

  “And you’re going to keep failing.” David pushed the glass away. “No, I don’t want a drink.”

  Peter huffed. Then he took a swig of the drink himself before moving away. “What is it with you and drinking, anyway? We used to drink all the time, and then you just stopped overnight.”

  “That’s my business.”

  It was a part of David’s life that he didn’t want to explain to anyone. It had made everything change. David didn’t want to lose anything more due to the bottle.

  Peter sighed, almost sounding like he was disappointed in his twin. “Fine. I’ll get some tea brought to you. You just sit there and calm yourself down.” He pulled the bellrope by the fireplace. “You’re not going to be doing anyone any favors when you’re like this.”

  David snorted, casting Peter a smirk. “I was always telling you that. Since when have our roles reversed?”

  “Maybe I’ve just grown up now.” Peter finished the rest of the glass and went back to the cabinet. “Now, stay there.”

  “Do you want me to bark and roll over as well?”

  David was still laughing as Peter threw a cushion at his head.

  * * *

  Arabella looked out of the window. The rain had now stopped, and the sun was out again. There were barely any clouds in the sky. The late spring showers were on their way out.

  She put aside the ladle she had been using on the stew and headed towards the kitchen door, picking up a pair of thick clothes.

  “Jeffrey, could you watch the pot for me?” she asked, slipping on the clothes. “I’m just going to do some gardening.”

  Sitting at the kitchen table peeling potatoes, her brother looked up and scowled at her.

  “I’m the footman, Arabella, not the cook,” he snapped. “You’ve already got me peeling potatoes. What more do you want?”

  “To do as you’re told by your older sister,” Arabella shot back. “I don’t want lunch spoiled, and I promised Mrs. Day that I would get on with pruning those roses.”

  Anna Day would be back soon, and Arabella wanted to have her mistress settled with her lunch before she set off to have lunch with her own family further down the country trail. It was the only stipulation Arabella had with her job as Anna’s maid, to take her meals with her parents in their cottage. Anna had been more than happy with that. She was a kind employer, very gentle and strong. After everything she had been through in the past, it was no wonder that Anna was stronger than most people Arabella had come across.

  “I thought Mrs. Day loved to do the gardening?” Jeffrey asked as he dropped another peeled potato into the pan of water at his feet.

  “She does, but she always avoids the rose bush. I offered to do it.”

  Arabella hated the rose bush herself, but if it meant going outside she would take it. Arabella loved the outdoors. Jeffrey sighed heavily, almost like a petulant child.

  “All right, I’ll keep an eye on lunch. What should I be looking for?”

  “If it starts bubbling too much, turn the stove off. That means it’s ready.”

  “It’s bubbling now.”

  “It’s simmering.” Arabella opened the back door. “If it bubbles too much, turn the stove off. Simple.”

  “For you, it is.” Jeffrey grumbled. “You’re the one who is meant to be at the stove, not me.”

  Arabella resisted the urge to give him a sharp retort. Jeffrey had been particularly grumpy lately, and the family was stumped as to why. At twenty years of age, Jeffrey was still a bit wild, a grown man who resented a grown man’s duties. He had driven Lord Derby to some despair, but he had kept Jeffrey on as a footman. When Jeffrey put his mind to it, he was good at his job. It was more like a relief for the earl when Anna was choosing two servants for her cottage and Arabella had suggested Jeffrey to come with her.

  But in the last few months, Jeffrey had become withdrawn, sullenly getting on with his work and snapping at everyone. Not even his mother could get through to him.

  Arabella pondered about her brother as she crossed the wet grass to the rose bush. Maybe he was upset over a girl. Jeffrey did have an eye for spotting pretty girls. Maybe one of them spurned him and Jeffrey didn’t take it well; not that he would tell Arabella about it. Affairs of the heart weren’t exactly something a young man who talk about with his older sister, especially when her love life was even worse than his.

  Arabella would not think about it. She didn’t need to deal with the memories. It had happened, and Arabella had suffered the consequences. She would not bring them back to slap her in the face.

  She would not.

  The rose bush wasn’t in a fighting mood that morning, the spring shower seeming to have softened it up. Arabella found it easier than normal to cut off the dead roses, dropping them into the basket she had left by the bush right before the rain started. This would be completed in no time, and then Arabella could get back to the stew before Jeffrey ruined it. Chances were he wouldn’t pay attention to it at all.

  She was cutting off the last dead rose when there was the rattling of wheels further up the road. Arabella looked up and saw a carriage trundling down the hill towards the cottage. It wasn’t Anna - she had chosen to go for a walk - and they weren’t expecting visitors. At least none that Arabella knew of. If it was Viscount Harrison, he would have left a calling card in advance.

  Then the carriage got closer, and Arabella recognized the man in charge of the reins, keeping the horses together. She groaned. What now? Didn’t the woman know when to give up? This
was the fifth time in three weeks that she had come down to Anna’s cottage, uninvited, and each time had been sent away with a flea in her ear.

  Arabella wondered if the woman was stubborn or stupid. Probably both, but Arabella was leaning towards the latter.

  She reached the gate as the carriage stopped outside. A footman jumped down from the back and opened the door. A short, thin woman with gray hair wearing a pale blue dress that seemed to be close to falling off her alighted from the carriage and strode towards the gate. Arabella leaned on the gate, blocking the way as the Viscountess of Hartley approached her.

  “Mrs. Day isn’t in at the moment, Lady Hartley,” she said in a clipped voice. “And you know you’re not welcome here.”

  Lady Hartley snorted rudely, looking Arabella up and down with a sneer. “I don’t take orders from a maid. Out of my way, chit.”

  She started to push Arabella out the way, but Arabella slapped her hand away. Even with her sudden weight loss over the years, Lady Hartley was still pretty strong. Arabella squared up to the older lady. There were very few people who raised her hackles easily, but Lady Hartley was one of them.

  “I’d advise you not to touch me,” Arabella warned. “Servants do fight back.”

  “And I’m sure Lord Derby would love to know that his servants abuse their visitors.”

  “If he knew you were on his land, he would be throwing you out. You’re a trespasser, not a visitor.” Arabella folded her hands. “Mrs. Day told you everything that she needed to say, and you need to stop coming back here.”

  “Oh?” Beatrice raised her eyebrows. “Mrs. Day wouldn’t be so disrespectful as to refuse me her hospitality. She was never this rude before.”

  Arabella fought back the urge to laugh. This lady was delusional. She had to be to think that Mrs. Anna Day would entertain her.

  “Don’t pretend the two of you were friends, Lady Hartley,” Arabella snapped. “You committed adultery with her first husband and then married him once she was able to obtain a divorce. Not to mention, you treated Mrs. Day’s daughter abysmally. And yet, you expect her to receive you with any form of decency? You were lucky that she received you the first time!” She shook her head. “What world do you live in where what you’re doing is acceptable?”

  Lady Hartley thin face was going bright red. Her eyes flashed as she seethed. “I have never been spoken to like this by a servant,” she hissed. She pointed a finger in Arabella’s face. “You, young woman, have a nasty mouth.”

  “Same could be said about you,” Arabella replied. She called out over her shoulder. “Jeffrey! I need you out here!”

  “Calling lover-boy, are you?” Lady Hartley sneered. “Does he always do your manhandling?”

  Arabella bared her teeth. There was no point getting angry, but Lady Hartley brought it out in everyone.

  “There is no need to insult my brother or myself because you’re not getting your own way. I am perfectly capable of dealing with you, but as you’ve said before, ladies are not supposed to be part of violence. Although, you’ve broken that code many times haven’t you?”

  Lady Hartley spluttered. She looked like she was about to explode. Arabella had no idea why she was here, and the fact that Beatrice kept coming back was getting past ridiculous. Was she trying to humiliate Mrs. Day in some way? If she was, it wasn’t working.

  “Arabella?” Jeffrey was hurrying across the grass. Arabella stepped back, away from the furious viscountess.

  “Lady Hartley seems to have got lost again, Jeffrey. Would you kindly direct her driver in the right direction of Swadlincote, please, where she can find her way home?”

  “Gladly.” Jeffrey vaulted the gate and started to take Lady Hartley’s arm. She snarled and yanked her arm away, glaring up at Jeffrey.

  “Don’t touch me, servant!” she growled. “Neither of you are worthy of touching me.”

  Jeffrey shook his head and approached the driver, who was warily watching the interaction. As they spoke, Arabella opened the gate and stepped through. The lady could just not understand when she needed to leave.

  “You make it sound like I want to touch you, Lady Hartley. And you are leaving right now.”

  “No, I’m not.” Lady Hartley folded her arms with a smug grin. “I’m not leaving until I see Mrs. Day.”

  Arabella sighed. They were going to do this the hard way. She grabbed Lady Hartley’s wrist and tugged the lady off-balance before twisting her around. SHe cried out and flailed with her other arm, but Arabella frogmarched her towards the carriage, the lady’s arm twisted up behind her back.

  “Let me go!” Lady Hartley shrieked. She began to wail. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Spare me, Lady Hartley.” Arabella pushed her into the empty carriage, slamming the door behind her. Then she leaned in as Lady Hartley sat up on the seat, where she had been unceremoniously dumped. “And considering how many times you’ve hurt Lady Derby, I don’t think one in your direction is going to matter. From what I heard, you were incredibly lucky that Doctor Day didn’t kill you after what you did.”

  Lady Hartley’s face went white.

  “How dare you?” she hissed. “I was a victim!”

  “You’ve never been a victim,” Arabella snorted. She pushed away from the carriage. “Driver, get her out of here, and don’t come back if you value your manhood.”

  The driver didn’t need to be told twice. He snapped the reins, and the horses set off at a fast canter. Lady Hartley had been standing up, reaching for the door, and the sudden movement of the carriage knocked her off her feet and out of sight. She was up and leaning out of the window as the carriage carried on down the hill, shrieking back at them.

  “You’ll pay for putting your hands on me, you little pest!”

  Arabella rolled her eyes and turned away. She wasn’t interested in pathetic threats. Jeffrey joined her as she reached the gate.

  “That last bit was a bit harsh.”

  “Coming from the boy who’s got a harsher temper than I have?” Arabella shot back.

  “It’s not the coachman’s fault. He was just following orders.”

  “I know whose fault it is, and I’m sick and tired of her coming back.” Arabella opened the gate and strode through, kicking over the basket of dead roses. “It’s getting ridiculous. I don’t know what she plans to achieve by coming back, but it’s getting annoying.”

  Jeffrey was watching her strangely. Arabella glared back at him. She wasn’t about to be judged by her little brother right now.

  “Is that stew ready yet, or have you let it burn?”

  Jeffrey looked like he was going to say something, but then he sighed and walked towards the house, shaking his head. Arabella turned away and kicked the basket across the grass. Any type of visit from Lady Hartley was enough to put anyone in a bad mood.

  Chapter Four

  Arabella managed to get away from the house in time. The stew hadn’t been burnt, thankfully, and the potatoes were nearly ready. She just needed to wait for Anna to come home, which her mistress had done about half an hour after her unwanted visitor had left. She was looking healthier and happier than she had been in a while, and Arabella had to smile when she saw Anna enter her cottage singing to herself. The woman had dealt with an abusive husband and then a murderous one, all while trying to protect her only child. Now her daughter was married and had a family of her own, Anna was free to do as she chose. Lord Derby gave her a lot of freedom on the estate, and Anna had made the most of it with her many walks.

  Arabella had joined her on a few, and was surprised that she could barely keep up with the older woman. She was incredibly strong, and incredibly fast-paced. Arabella had thought she was quite healthy until she went on a long walk with Anna Day. Never again. Unless Anna slowed down, and there was no sign of her slowing down anytime soon.

  Anna didn’t seem too concerned about the tension between Arabella and Jeffrey, sitting down in the dining room for lunch. Arabella served her, Jeffrey standing by,
and then Anna gave her leave. Nothing was mentioned about Jeffrey scowling at his sister and Arabella’s sullen expression. Then again, seeing as the two of them had been arguing a lot lately, Anna must have guessed they had had another argument.

  It wasn’t professional. Arabella was embarrassed at letting her emotions get the better of her., but she was glad she didn’t have to explain herself. Anna Day was a lot more reasonable that any other employer.

  Arabella headed out shortly after Anna gave her leave, and walked down the path, taking a shortcut that twirled and turned through a small copse of trees. It was a way that her mother didn’t approve of Arabella taking, especially when it was dark, but it was quick. And Arabella, was very eager to go to her parents’ home.