“Ye ken a lot about this,” Arabella laughed.
“Well, me lass, ye may not have noticed this, but I’m just a bit older than ye,” Lady Anisette teased.
Arabella allowed herself to laugh just a little.
She was starting to feel better. She was comforted by the way the woman was being so kind and caring. It was as if she had found the one person at the whole party that she truly needed, the one person who could help her deal with everything she was feeling in that moment.
“Now, lass, are ye really planning on spending the whole rest of the evening in here on yer own weeping?” Lady Anisette challenged her.
Arabella thought about it. She knew that she was supposed to say no immediately, that she would go out and be adventurous and spend time with all the other guests. But she was emotionally exhausted and the hurt that Francis had caused was still fresh enough to prevent her from being in a mood to celebrate and interact with everyone out there.
“Well, I suppose I can see yer answer. But I urge ye not to just sit back and do nothing. Ye deserve to enjoy yerself, lass. So even if ye go to yer bed and dinnae come back down the rest of the night, do something ye enjoy. Read a book, perhaps? Or draw a picture. Whatever yer interests are,” Lady Anisette urged.
Arabella nodded. “Aye, I will do that, Lady Anisette. I brought a book with me, so I’ll read before I go to sleep,” she promised.
“There’s a good lass. And I have another idea,” Lady Anisette began.
“Oh?”
“Aye, why dinnae ye come and join me in me home tomorrow?” she invited.
Arabella was surprised, but delighted at the thought. Lady Anisette was clearly a woman of class. The thought that she was being invited by such a woman, to spend time with one another, was a thrilling compliment.
“Would ye really like that?” Arabella asked, conveying her surprise more than she had wished to.
Lady Anisette laughed. “Oh dear, ye thought I was being insincere? Aye, of course I would really like that! Ye’re a good lass. And it seems to me that all ye need is a woman who has been through her fair share of failed love. I’d love to have ye over to me home and we can spend some time thinking about things other than men and all their nasty habits,” Lady Anisette offered with another full laugh.
Arabella smiled. She appreciated the offer. “Aye, that sounds lovely, Lady Anisette. Thank ye for being so generous with me and doing something so kind for me,” she replied.
“It’s nothing, lass. Believe me, an old woman such as I can always use a bit of company. I do love spending me time with young ladies who are full of life and joy and excitement. As I said, ye seem a good lass. I think perhaps we can learn from one another,” Lady Anisette said with a decided look on her face.
Arabella finally felt as though she was able to breathe normally. It was so freeing to be around someone who cared as much as this woman who didn’t even know her. She was relieved to have found someone who was willing to give her so much time and attention.
“Right, well, here’s me card. Ye must come tomorrow for tea. I’ll be home until evening, so feel free to drop in anytime before, alright?” she said.
“Aye, Lady Anisette, I will come,” Arabella said again.
The woman got up to leave, but turned one final time and said, “And lass, if he’s leaving ye in such a state as this, remember that some men just arnae worth the trouble.”
With that, Lady Anisette left the room and Arabella was alone again. She decided her best option now really was to go back to her room.
Glancing in her reflection, Arabella ensured that she looked presentable enough to make her way through the guests in order to reach the stairs. When she was confident that her puffy, red eyes were subtle enough, she began the journey and was relieved to find that there were only a few stragglers in the hallway now as the party in the hall was going strong.
Arabella went up the stairs and down the hall to the guest room. It was cold, but she changed into something more comfortable, even if she didn’t feel as beautiful in it.
Then she grabbed her book and climbed under the blankets on the bed.
Before she began to read, Arabella allowed herself just five minutes to think more about Francis, to let herself hurt, and to let herself cry. It felt good to tell herself she could have just five minutes and after that she was allowed no more.
However, in those five minutes, Arabella wept and wondered again why Francis had been so cruel. Why he had hurt her so callously was beyond comprehension.
There was clearly something more happening that she was unaware of still. She knew that Francis was capable of cruelty, she had seen it with the guard, but had assumed it was due to some horrible thing that was haunting him.
Whatever hurt it was, whatever terrible thing had caused him to behave that way, it didn’t make sense to her now that he could be so willing to hurt her when she had been so kind to him.
Francis had seemed to care for her. Maybe it was only when he found it convenient.
Maybe Francis was not the good man she had thought him to be after all.
Chapter 14
A Morning Of Regrets And Apologies
Francis awoke to his own gasping breath. He felt certain that he was not alone. He was sure that with him was someone who very well might be the end of him.
Then he remembered. He was in the townhouse in Edinburgh. Moreover, somewhere in the house was Arabella. A woman who had captivated him in ways he had never dreamt possible.
Arabella, the stunning, compassionate, wise young woman who was thrilled by the chance for adventure and whose heart was currently bleeding because of his words.
The overwhelming sense of regret was more palpable than anything. Francis didn’t feel hunger, he didn’t feel tired or awake, and he didn’t feel how badly he needed to bathe. He felt only the painful memory of the previous night and how deeply he had hurt Arabella.
She was so close to him. Two rooms away, he knew she was probably waking as well. The evening before, he had stood outside her door for a moment, seeing the light still bleeding from underneath, aware that she was awake. Nevertheless, he didn’t knock. He was afraid of trying to get her attention. Afraid of what he might say or do.
Why did he always have to feel such heaviness? Why was it that his heart was constantly bound up in the knowledge that he was failing everyone by simply existing? He was hurting Arabella just as he was hurting the laird who had claimed him as son.
So he had slept. He had gone to his room and lay down, only to close his eyes and fall into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Now, early in the morning, with only the sense of her in the other room, Francis wished more than anything to know how to make up with her. What could he say? How could he convince her to forgive him without telling her everything?
Was it even possible?
Whatever the answer, Francis knew he could not allow the morning to go by without seeing her, even if it meant going to her room. He had to tell her he was sorry, had to beg her forgiveness.
Francis gathered himself and had a bath. The water took a long time to prepare, but once it was hot, it felt wonderful. As he cleaned his body, he felt like he was cleaning his soul, recovering from the evening before.
After dressing and trying to dry his hair as best he could, Francis finally made his way down the stairs to the dining area, where he saw Arabella already sitting at the table with his faither.
They were speaking light heartedly of the evening before and he watched for a moment as Arabella charmed the laird. She bit into a piece of toast and laughed along with the laird as he regaled her with a story.
“It’s just like what ye said!” he laughed.
“I ken! I didnae think she would ever actually do something like that,” Arabella replied.
Not knowing what their conversation was about didn’t matter. For Francis, his heart was warmed just watching Arabella and his faither engaged so joyously with one another. No matter what had happened
the night before, no matter that his faither was not truly his faither, he was happy to see them getting along so well and chatting as if everything were right in the world.
Arabella was even more exquisite when she laughed. He looked at her dimples again, eyeing how they brought to her face even more for him to explore. She was like no other woman in the world.
Francis knew he could not watch them forever. He took the final steps into the room, where he was suddenly seen by the two at the table.
Arabella looked up at him and her face fell. She was clearly uncomfortable now and didn’t have any desire to remain at the table. The laird, however, looked at him with a blend of gladness to see him and a small tinge of disappointment.
“Ah, there he is!” the laird declared.
“Me laird,” Francis greeted. “Lady Arabella.”
“Glad to see ye didnae disappear after all, lad. We looked for ye last evening but ye were nowhere to be found,” the laird said, revealing to Francis where that bit of disappointment had come from.
“Forgive me, me laird. I was…feeling unwell,” he said.
“Aye, but ye’re to be a laird after me, lad. Ye cannae go around feeling unwell all the time. It’s important that the clan sees ye regularly and that ye dinnae give them reason to suspect that ye’re off and away with the enemy,” the laird said in a gently scolding way. “And on a night like last, it’s even more important. It wasnae just our own clan. It was others. Others that ye’ll need to interact with in the future.”
“Forgive me, me laird,” he said again.
“Nothing to forgive, just make sure ye learn from it for next time,” the laird said.
Francis could see that Arabella was feeling awkward being a viewer of this exchange. He was embarrassed for her to have seen it, but still not half so embarrassed as he had been for what she saw from him the night before.
“Lady Arabella,” he began. “It is good to see ye this morning.”
Francis knew that his words were static and uncomfortable. Arabella seemed ambivalent to this interaction, as if she didn’t care at all that Francis was even at the table.
“Thank ye,” was her only reply. Her eyes did not lift from the plate before her.
Francis knew he deserved her lack of interaction, but he didn’t think he could handle too much avoidance from her. Not to mention that his faither was there and was keen on picking up on people’s interactions. If Arabella and Francis were strained, the laird would notice.
“And how did ye sleep?” he asked, feeling forced to try again.
“Fine, thank ye,” she said, picking at the potatoes on her plate with a fork.
“Forgive me, I believe I interrupted the two of ye when ye were having such a jolly conversation,” Francis said, looking between Arabella and the laird.
“Ye seem awfully keen to be forgiven this morning,” the laird teased, pointing out how many times Francis had made the request since sitting down.
“Aye. Well, perhaps I just feel I need a bit,” Francis laughed awkwardly in reply.
“Hmm. Well, I’m off. I’ve got a hunt with the Laird McFly this morning. I think that old dotard is planning to shoot me instead of any boar,” the laird said, laughing again.
Arabella smiled and gave him a bit of a response and Francis simply nodded.
The whole room seemed to be under the weight of Francis’ awkwardness and the difficulty he had caused between himself and Arabella the night before.
Once his faither had gone and the maids were only coming and going as needed, there was a bit more freedom for Francis to say what he truly wanted to express to Arabella.
Yet, he was still unsure how to tell her. He knew he had to apologize here and now, but it wouldn’t make up for anything. It was hardly the explanation she deserved.
Francis looked up from his plate and watched her. It was clear that Arabella was not going to give him any attention. In fact, he could see her debating in her mind whether she would even remain or if it would be best simply to abandon her food and leave the table.
Francis knew that if he wished to say anything at all, he had better do it quickly before others came to the table. Certainly before his uncle came.
There were many guests who had stayed over the night and they would all be waking and many would need food to handle the effects of too much drink the night before. Yes, he had to tell her now. He had to apologize before he lost his opportunity.
“Lady Arabella,” he began. She finally looked up at him, although her expression was less than forgiving.
“I ken I must beg yer forgiveness. For everything that happened last evening. I ken that I was unfair to ye, that ye didnae ken exactly what ye were getting into, what happened to cause me to be in such a mood as that,” Francis began.
Arabella still stared at him without a hint as to what was in her mind.
“Ye didnae deserve to see me in such a state and I ken that ye’ve now seen me in many horrible states. From what I did to the guard to what I’ve now done to ye. I ken it’s been unfair. And I feel horrible for everything I said,” he finished.
Arabella pursed her lips. “Thank ye for yer apology. I think it is best that I head back to Dunmore today. I am simply waiting for Laurie to wake and then we will call for a coach,” she told him.
Francis felt his heart jump at her words. He tried to gather his own, to beg her not to go, but it only came out as a jumbled, “N-no, ye…dinnae. I mean, ye cannae. Arabe--Lady Arabella, please. Dinnae do that.”
He felt the harshness of Arabella’s eyes that he would dare to make such a request. He knew he was asking a lot, hoping that she would simply forgive him and move on. However, he couldn’t let her leave. He couldn’t see her go.
“I’ll thank ye not to order me around. Ye may be a laird in the future, but not of me own clan. I’m not yer servant, no matter what guise ye had me come here under. And I’m not some mousy little lass who will just be run around by ye and do whatever it is ye want from me,” she said to him, raising her voice ever so slightly.
Francis realized the mistake of his demand. He had only offended her further. He tried to calm his own heart before trying again. “Please, Lady Arabella. That was not me meaning. I am in no way trying to make demands of ye. I’m asking only that ye give me a chance to explain,” he said.
“Everything…” he added finally.
Arabella finally gave him the first look of sincerity she had given him the whole morning. “What do ye mean by that?” she asked.
Francis paused, realizing that it would do them no good to try and have the discussion there in the dining room when all the guests would be down soon.
“Perhaps we can go for a walk after we finish our food?” he asked. Arabella was nearly done, but he still had a bit left on his plate. Then again, he wondered, would it even matter? He wasn’t hungry; he was only there so he could talk to her.
Arabella was thinking. He hoped she would agree, but knew that she had every reason to refuse him.
Finally she looked at him, sighed, and answered. “Fine, I’ll walk with ye. But dinnae expect me to be so forgiving just because ye ask for it. If ye say ye’re going to explain everything, then that’s exactly what I expect. Everything. Not just some sorry excuse,” she told him.
Francis nodded in agreement. “Aye, I promise. I’ll tell ye everything. By the end of our walk, ye will ken exactly why I beat that man at Dunmore, why I was so awful to ye last evening, and ye’ll ken exactly why I tend to be so cold,” he admitted.
He saw then that Arabella was touched by his admission of coldness, as if she had needed to hear that from him all along. That it wasn’t her that caused him to be that way. Soon, she would know everything.
Chapter 15
Footsteps In The Countryside
“Are ye cold at all?” Francis asked. He noticed that Arabella had her arms wrapped tightly as they walked, but he didn’t feel even the slightest breeze.
“No, I’m not cold,” she replie
d in a dry voice.
Francis realized that she was probably just using a defensive pose to keep him away. She didn’t want him to feel as though she was willing to be open to him at all.
As they got further into the countryside, away from the edges of the city and away from the house, he saw a change come over her face.
Arabella seemed delighted once again now that they were more and more surrounded by nature. There was a lake and they made their way toward it. Francis saw Arabella eyeing the ducks and he wished he had brought something from breakfast to feed them.
Yes, it was clear that she was enjoying the countryside. Perhaps as her first day in the city had been one filled with drama, noblemen, and culture, Arabella was already homesick. Seeing the happiness on her face now left him touched.
Francis felt nervous. He had promised her answers. He had decided he would tell her everything. Now here he was, being faced with only that option. He immediately felt a wave of nausea come over him.
“I dinnae ken exactly how to tell ye this,” he began finally. Francis wondered how Arabella would take the news of his parentage and the fact that he might be illegitimate.
Arabella sighed in frustration. “I dinnae ken how ye tell me. But ye promised ye would and I expect ye to make good on that promise. I’m not a woman to sit idly by while men make a mockery of me. If ye say ye’ll tell me the truth, then ye had best get on with it,” she told him.
Francis could see how she hated the feeling that he might be playing a game with her. He wanted her to know how sincere and honest he was. “I’m not playing a game with ye, Arabella. But ye have to ken that that isnae an easy thing to tell someone. So I really am sorry for hurting ye last evening, and for ye being suspicious of me today, but once I tell ye, I think ye’ll understand,” he expressed.
“Then get on with it, because I’m not going to wait forever,” she said, turning toward him.
Love Saves A Highland Spy: Ladies of Dunmore Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story) Page 10