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An Accidental Affair

Page 11

by Heather Boyd


  Mr. Milne sat back, his hands resting on his overstretched belly. “Yes, indeed. I’ll likely see you next in Essex for the wedding. Looking forward to sampling the duke’s hospitality. They say Ford affairs are very fine.”

  Merrick peered at Mr. Milne. “I had not known invitations had already been sent for my cousin’s wedding.”

  “I had a note from Rutherford just this morning, inviting myself, my wife and my darling daughter to join him.” He touched the side of his nose with one finger and grinned. “Your grandfather assuredly plays a long game, but he will be proved right in the end.”

  What the devil was this? “Will he?”

  “It takes a brave man to stand in the Admiral’s way when he wants something done. I’ve no objection to his laying out the timetable at all for a match. Either way, we’ll each get what we want.” Milne saluted him with the remains of his drink. “Until the wedding.”

  Merrick strode out, puzzling over what he’d learned. His grandfather was no friend to Mr. Milne. At least not to his knowledge. He’d never known they were acquainted, which had added to Miss Milne’s appeal. Until now. Was a scheme at play? Merrick had a sinking feeling he’d already been cast in the central role with Miss Milne as his leading lady. That his grandfather was likely meddling placed a pall over getting to know her. He had hoped to avoid family interference, but it might just be impossible.

  As he reached the entrance hall, his remaining good humor vanished. Farnsworth stood before him, a condescending smile spreading over his face. “I say, Rothwell. Well met.”

  Merrick itched to wipe that expression off his face. “Farnsworth.”

  The stupid man came closer, giving Merrick a glimpse of the left side of his face. A cut oozed red at his hairline. Arabella hadn’t mentioned that she’d fought back, but he was pleased. A little harder and Arabella might have killed the man. A pity she had not.

  Farnsworth’s expression grew serious. “Now, this is fortuitous. Do you have a moment?”

  Whatever Farnsworth had to say would not be worth listening to. “Actually no. I have somewhere to be and cannot delay. Good day to you.”

  “Wait. I wanted to warn you to be cautious. I was attacked in my home last night. A terribly brazen affair, indeed.” He pointed to the wound on his head. “I discovered the villains in my home quite by chance and routed them, or so I thought at the time.”

  Farnsworth had to be joking. “Really? How terrible for you.”

  “It was, but that is not the worst. You see, while they were taking my candlesticks and silverware out through the back window, my sister-in-law, Arabella, fled the house in a wild panic and hasn’t been seen since. I truly fear for her sanity. She must have been quite overset with fear for us all.”

  Merrick stared at the man. This was how he would explain Arabella’s disappearance to any who questioned her whereabouts? The fool. Anyone who knew Arabella would know she wasn’t one to suffer panic without cause.

  Farnsworth pointed to his wound again. “This is what they did to me. I truly fear for Arabella’s safety if the brigands followed her into the night. I dread to think what has happened to her. I am sure she fled far into Green Park. I followed long as I could, of course, but lost sight of her in the heavy rain. Keep your eyes open would you, and do be discreet. My dear Arabella means the world to me and to my daughter. We would hate to lose her though will gladly take her back no matter what evil has befallen her.”

  Merrick held on to his temper by the skin of his teeth. Arabella’s happiness meant much more to him than to this bastard. However, the time wasn’t right to reveal he knew her location, so he kept his mouth shut. He wanted to see how far Farnsworth would go in his lies first. “What have the Runners to say?”

  Farnsworth’s expression grew evasive. “I’m on my way to them now.”

  No, he wasn’t. It was three in the afternoon and the man was paying house calls. Milne had no ties to the Runners or the law. Merrick had a suspicion that Farnsworth wouldn’t hire even one man to find her. It had been hours since Arabella had fled Farnsworth’s home, and he’d likely done nothing more than design a story to explain his injury and garner sympathy should Arabella reveal what he intended for her. If pressed, would Farnsworth weep over a vacant grave bearing her name? He probably hoped she would return to him properly chastened and cowed into submission so she would marry Lord Parker without fuss.

  Milne’s butler gestured to the doorway Merrick had just walked through. “Mr. Milne will see you now, Lord Farnsworth.”

  The sorrowful expression instantly slipped from Farnsworth’s face at the news. “Excellent.”

  Merrick again forced himself not to pound the man to a bloody pulp. He had no right to do so. Not yet. But once Arabella was healed and settled in an alternate safe haven, Merrick would pay a call to Farnsworth and avenge her. There were any number of ways to make the man suffer that would be undetectable.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Merrick let himself into his home and immediately looked around for Arabella. When he heard and saw nothing but the usual household sounds and sights, he sighed. It was foolish to hope her nerves had relaxed sufficiently to make her feel safe in his home. She’d had quite a bad time of it last night.

  “Has she come down yet?” he asked Holland as soon as he appeared.

  “No, my lord.” Holland frowned, his glance rising to the ceiling. “She is up and moving around but will not allow anyone to see her. I fear the bruising must be quite bad.”

  Merrick shared that fear. He’d worried for her welfare all day while he’d continued about his business as usual, as if he did not have an unexpected houseguest resting in his future wife’s bedchamber. There had better not be any lasting harm done to her appearance. Farnsworth had done enough to shake her confidence already and with the lies he was spreading about her flight into the night, he feared any disfiguration would break her confidence completely.

  Merrick slapped Holland’s shoulder and then slid his hat and gloves onto the hall table. “I’m sure she will come down in due time. However, I’ll look in on her directly to see if she needs anything.”

  “She should not be here,” Holland said quietly, for his ears alone. “We should have let her catch her breath and then taken her to your aunt this morning.”

  Merrick did not need Holland to voice the doubts that had already invaded his mind. He’d spent the morning roundly chastising himself for selfishness on his part for wanting Arabella to stay where he could keep an eye on her. The cost to her reputation could be severe, but he felt better knowing she was truly beyond Farnsworth’s reach. “My aunt would have questioned her. You saw her last night and her behavior this morning. She wasn’t ready to face any of that.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I do not know, but I will ask what she wishes to do. If she wishes to remain or will not see me, then she may stay exactly where she is. If she wishes to leave, then I will see that it’s accomplished in a way to avoid discovery and spare her reputation any stain. Is her presence any great hardship for the household?”

  Holland shook his head quickly. “No, my lord. It’s just that I’d thought of her reputation, too. The gossip could be quite vicious if she is found out. There has never been a hint of impropriety attached to Lady Farnsworth before and we have no female servants to attend her or female family in residence.”

  That was a problem. He scratched his whiskered jaw, wondering if he should shave off the new growth before he saw her. He was eager to see her now and did not want to wait another moment. “It cannot be helped. We’ve run the house without for so long that if I employ a female servant now to attend her, it could draw unwanted attention. I trust everyone to hold their tongues, but a new face in their ranks could reveal Arabella’s location before she is ready to face anyone.”

  “She will have to come out eventually, or let us in,” Holland said. “The water from her morning bath is still within her bedchamber. It is unhealthy to let it remain there for m
uch longer. If you could persuade her to retire to another room, perhaps we could attend it and anything else she needs.”

  Merrick glanced up the stairs. Holland had come up with the flimsiest of excuses to get through the door, but he would take it gladly just to know how badly Arabella was suffering. “Very well. I will go see her now before I change to go out for dinner.”

  “Do you think it’s wise to carry on as usual, given you have a woman sheltering under your roof?”

  He’d questioned his actions all day, yet whatever happened with Arabella, he still wanted a wife. Quitting the field now might mean he’d have to start over again. “Going out as usual offers an advantage in drawing attention away from the house. Arabella may have come to me in her time of need, but to assume anything more would be presumptuous.”

  Holland frowned. “I suppose it would be.”

  When Holland hurried off into the depths of the house, Merrick headed upstairs. He straightened his waistcoat and coat and smoothed his hair before he tapped lightly on Arabella’s door and waited.

  “Who is it?” Her voice was a soft whisper through the door. The shy, cautious question tore his heart.

  “It’s Rothwell. May I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Ah, I don’t think so,” she said quickly. The door handle rattled as if to prevent the door from being opened without her permission. “I’d rather you not let anyone see me like this.”

  “It’s just me. No one else has to come in.” He eased closer to the door and laid his head upon the wood. He would never force her to do anything she didn’t want. “Arabella,” he said softly. “Please.”

  There was a long pause and then the door he leaned his head against fell open. Arabella stood opposite him against the wall, her eyes wide. He stepped inside and she gave ground. Her injury was nowhere near as bad as he thought it would be. The swelling to her cheek had lessened quite a bit. In a few days, there would be no trace of Farnsworth’s hands upon her face. He smiled in relief and lifted a hand to brush her loose, pale hair back from her neck. The finger marks were distinct but would fade in time too.

  “I was worried.”

  Her brow creased and she hurried to cover her abused skin again with her hair. “I look terrible.”

  “You look better than my imagination supplied. Thank you for letting me see you.” He glanced around the room while he nudged the door shut with his foot so no one passing could peek in. “Do you have everything you need?”

  The simple gown and accessories he’d begged the loan of from Lottie Townsend clung to her curves in all the right places. The only thing he hadn’t accomplished was acquiring right-sized footwear to replace her evening slippers. As she fidgeted in place, her stocking-covered toes peeked out from beneath her gown.

  “Yes. I can never repay you for your kindness.”

  “It’s an honor to be of assistance. Think nothing of it.” He glanced around the room one more time, noticing the differences from the morning. During the day, Arabella had kept busy by rearranging a few items. A chair had been moved closer to the window. The writing desk was angled differently to catch the light. He didn’t mind the changes. If such activity kept her occupied and distracted from her troubles, she could rearrange his entire house to her heart’s content. “Holland would like the servants to clear the room of the bathwater and perform other tasks. He wanted me to ask if you minded stepping into another room for a short time.”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m an inconvenience.”

  “Not at all.” He lifted her chin gently and smiled to reassure her. “Holland likes to fuss. Leaving anything unfinished is beyond him, but I think he’d rather not upset you by coming to your door again.”

  “I am sorry for my earlier churlish behavior.” Her smile was hesitant and unhappy. “Very well. As long as no one sees me. Lead the way, my lord.”

  Merrick stepped back into the hall, checked that no servants lingered nearby to startle her, and then gestured for Arabella to come with him. He lived alone and most rooms in the house were closed up, so he opened the doorway to the only acceptable quarters and allowed her to pass. “I’ll return for you when they are done and gone away again.”

  She stopped three paces into the room and looked about curiously. “Whose room is this?”

  “Ah, this would be mine. You should be comfortable here for a little while.” Merrick turned away before she could protest that being in his bedchamber was highly inappropriate. However, the other rooms would be dusty and provide little comfort. Leaving her there was the sensible thing to do.

  As he closed the door, he heard her mutter, “Oh, the injustice of this.”

  Although puzzled by her words, he called for Holland and waited in the hall. The servants trooped back and forth, Holland hurrying everyone along as quickly as he could. Holland nodded when he was done and disappeared downstairs again. When the house was quiet once more, he returned his bedchamber and knocked on the door.

  As before, Arabella faced him through the opening. “You grow orchids?”

  He smiled quickly. “I dabble.”

  “So do I.”

  He nodded. “I know. Grayling mentioned that you and his late wife would spend hours in the conservatory he had built at his estate.”

  She opened the door fully and with a quick, furtive glance at the empty hallway beyond stepped toward him. “Why did you not tell me? We could have spoken about propagation and such.”

  “When? We’ve only ever spoken briefly before now.”

  “That is true. I cannot imagine why.” When she strolled out into the hall, there was a book in her hands. She lifted it, a small guilty smile crossing her face. “I’ve not read this one. May I borrow it to read this evening?”

  He nodded and gestured for her to walk beside him. The urge to curl his arm around her back and draw her close against his side grew to an impossible ache. He clenched his hands behind his back instead of reaching for her. “Yes, of course. I finished it last night, actually, so you may have it for as long as you like. There are many more in my study downstairs, too. You’re welcome to borrow what you like while I am out tonight.”

  Her frown returned. “You’re going out again?”

  Was that disappointment or disapproval? He nodded. “I have an invitation I cannot decline at this late an hour, and I thought crying off might draw unwanted attention. Holland will be home all night should you need anything at all.”

  She sighed, then cast an impish smile in his direction. “You are very fortunate in your choice of butler. It’s a wonder someone hasn’t tried to steal him for themselves.”

  He smiled at her mistake. “Holland acts in my stead in many things, but Jenkins is actually the butler, though he’s away at present. I don’t believe there’s a high enough offer that would convince either one to leave my employ, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

  She reached her doorway and paused. “When I am better, we have much to discuss, sir. You have been keeping secrets from me. I dislike secrets between friends.”

  He studied her face, noting that the light in her eyes had returned, and leaned against the wall as close to her as he dared. “Are we friends now?”

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a gentle smile that had his body reacting before he could prevent it. “We surely must be.”

  Then she was gone, disappearing inside her bedchamber without another word or an invitation to follow. Merrick paused a long moment and then turned for his bedchamber, aware that while he was disappointed to part company with Arabella so soon, he was grinning like an idiot. Arabella liked him enough to call him a friend. That made any inconvenience her presence caused worthwhile, at least on his part. He could get to like being gently admonished by her, but he would still keep his secrets.

  Now that Arabella had been dealt with, he had a dinner to prepare for. While he dressed, he practiced the things he might say to Lady Mary Crawford at dinner. He could ask her about her season. He could ask he
r if she liked the country. He could ask her if she knew about his past and his father too, and if so consider overlooking it. He shook his head. Didn’t women claim that reformed rakes made the best husbands? To do that required they rise to the challenge and give a man a chance. He could certainly make the attempt to prove his sincerity if the lady was more open-minded than most.

  Holland nodded his approval as he stepped through the front door and into his carriage. The journey to Lord Crawford’s residence was not far, and he had little time to catch his breath. He pushed Arabella’s situation from his mind for a little while. Holland would take care of her and refuse Farnsworth admittance should he knock on the door.

  That left him free to pursue his own agenda. Lord and Lady Crawford would be gracious hosts, their daughter full of energy and chatter. He put on his best face and stepped out of the carriage, determined to make the right impression.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Arabella closed the book as she reached the last page and laid it aside. She’d been Rothwell’s guest for three days, and the marks on her face and neck were finally reduced to faint smudges. In the course of her recovery, Arabella had discovered herself as vain as the next woman. She’d feared permanent harm and men’s reactions to her loss of beauty. Rothwell’s reassurances had gone a long way to helping her adjust. If not for his gentle kindness, she’d still be hiding in her bed.

  The clock downstairs struck four o’clock and chimed out the close of another day. She stood and brushed off the skirts of another day dress that had appeared without explanation as to its origins. One day she would make Rothwell answer her questions and she would find some way to repay him for his generosity.

  Now in need of a new book to while away the afternoon, she ventured out into the hallway with a plan to surreptitiously explore the rest of Rothwell’s home. The floor she’d spent the last few days on contained only bedchambers, dressing rooms, and a few closets containing bedding. Most were neglected, which fit with what Arabella knew of Rothwell. He didn’t have family save the Fords, and his tendency to avoid them made his home little visited. The lower floors were mostly a mystery.

 

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