Blake turned his attention to his old friend. Michael had moved so close to Bath after he had been demobilised to take the waters there, and they seemed to have done some good, for he was gaining some sensation in his back and hips again.
Blake examined him and said, "The bath waters seem to be the best thing for you at the minute. The heat is efficacious, and the buoyancy will help hold you up if you wish to try to walk."
"Some days I think it's hopeless," Michael admitted.
Blake shook his head. "Alexander Davenport was injured far more severely, yet now after two years he is up and about, and even married and expecting a child soon. You must never give up."
Michael sighed. "I don't wish to. But surely I ought to see some improvement by now. As for a wife and chldren, why on earth would any woman ever wish to tie herself down to me?"
"Sarah fell in love with Alexander when he was blind and his back-"
He shrugged. "Then she's the exception. Or she simply took pity on him-"
Blake shook his head. "Sarah is a compassionate young woman, but no virgin gives herself away out of pity. They have an enduring and extremely devoted marriage, I'm sure of it."
"Well, only time will tell."
"Time will prove me right about you too. So come now, we need to draw up a plan. Baths twice each day, and mud rubs, massages, and some of that seaweed I have heard so much about. And walking, no matter how difficult it is."
"You're a hard man," Michael said with a shake of his head.
"Aye, but it's just what you need to get you out of your slough of despond."
Blake and Michael went to the Baths first thing each morning, and Michael would soak and try to move his legs. They would go a second time in the afternnon before dinner, and Arabella often went with them to help.
She would sit on a small bench and read them the paper or some poetry. Occasionally she even soaked herself, and they would take the waters in the Pump Room.
Adam and Oliver were frequently present at the Pump Room, and would take her off to Sally Lunn's for the giant teacakes they served there. Since they were her cousins, she did not strictly require a chaperone, though Vanessa Stone did try to keep a look out for her when she came up to visit at the end of the first week with her whole family.
She was bloomingly pregnant again with their third child, and Arabella could not help feel a twinge of envy for the exceedingly happy auburn-haired woman.
Still, since Blake was so busy with Michael, and Vanessa and Charlotte with their small children, Arabella had a great deal more freedom than she ever had before. If she was not permitted to think of Blake or Philip as her husband, then one of her cousins seemed a safe option. The more frequent caresses and light kisses Arabella shared with both brothers went unchecked because Blake was afraid he would be perceived as being jealous.
Philip could see the impasse the stubborn couple had created for themselves, and was ever vigilant.
So vigilant that Blake began to fear he would offer for Arabella himself after all. Then what would he do? He did not dare investigate his background lest it made his fears reality. That she had fallen in love with another man.
Yet he could not help notice her warm fondness for her two handsome cousins.
Arabella knew she was playing with fire allowing Adam and Oliver a couple of kisses, but in some senses that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to know where the fire came from. If it was Blake only who could make her feel that heady soaring of the senses, or whether it was inside her.
She needed to find out if she responded to all men the way she had to Blake, or if he was indeed, as she was coming to suspect more and more with every passing day that she tried to avoid him, that he was truly special.
One evening when the Elthams had invited a large group of guests for cards and a small dance, Philip looked at her directly at her and asked, "Would you like me to contribute to your education as well?"
"Pardon?"
She had just come from a short private conversation with Adam, which had included a kiss on her cheek.
He shook his head. "I can see what you're doing. Experimenting. Satisfying your curiosity. There's no harm in it if you're careful. But not all men are as decent and gentle with women as Blake. Or as I would be with you."
She snapped her fan open and began to flutter it. "Please, sir, I don't know what you're-"
"You're trying to find out why no man seems to match up to Blake. It's because you love him." He ignored her look of outraged indignation and continued, "I know it's hard for women, unfair too. Men are allowed to sow their wild oats, so to speak, but women are expected to be chaste. There's no reason not to try to find out more about your body, your desires, in a safe context. I'm said to be a good kisser. Would you like to try?"
She glared at him. "I cannot believe you're being so impertinent! Blake warned me-"
"Yet you have kissed Adam and Oliver, have you not?"
"How dare you!"
"I shall take that as yes, then."
"You are impossible, sir," she hissed, trying to move away from him.
He took her arm in a firm grip and led her toward the French windows at the back of the house, which opened onto a small terrace.
"What's impossible is loving someone as much as you do Blake, and being too frightened to just admit it. He loves you too, Arabella."
Her lashed flew upwards. "Why, did he tell you this?" she asked in astonishment. She did not even care that her broad smile had given away her true feelings of delight should it prove to be true.
"No. He's still being stubborn. But perhaps we can bring hom forward a bit more, whilst still expanding your education."
"You mean kiss me to make him jealous? It won't work. Blake is impervious-"
"If you really think that, you have a lot to learn about Blake. So, shall I kiss you now? Then we can see what happens."
She was not completely averse to the idea, so she said, "All right, do it," and puckered her lips as though she had tasted something sour.
Philip laughed. "I can see you really do need some help. But I think it might be better if it happened unexpectedly. After all, most men aren't going to give you fair warning that they're about to try to seduce you."
"And are you? Trying to seduce me?" she dared to ask.
He shook his head. "No, my dear. Never. Merely trying to prove to you that you're wasting your time if you think you'll be able to settle for anything less than the man you love."
"What makes a rake like you such an expert on love?" she challenged impertinently.
He shrugged, and for a moment looked so bleak that she was sorry she had ever been so rude. "I wasn't always a rake, you know. I'm certain love exists. My parents- But no more of that. Love is not for me, so I live as a rake."
"Why is it not for you?"
"I'm a dreadful sinner. I don't deserve-"
Impulsively she leaned forward and gave him a warm kiss. It was very nice, but nothing like the torrid kisses she had shared with Blake. She stepped back and grinned. "I think this is just another gambit to get women into bed. The brooding and misunderstood hero."
He flashed her a warm smile which did not light his eyes. "Good. You're getting the hang of this game. But as I was saying."
He had by now led her out onto the small terrazzo. As soon as the other couple who had been canoodling cleared out, he took her into his arms for a warm and very skilled kiss. It was interesting, and she complimented him on his skill and asked for a second kiss for practice.
"Like this," he instructed, gliding his tongue into her mouth, and encouraging her to do the same.
"And men like that?"
"If it's the right woman, surely. Now just remember, we men are a bit bristly." He lifted her hand and put it to his cheek. "So don't grind your chins or flesh together too much or you'll leave marks."
"I see," she said, feeling a light prickling through the fabric of her glove. "Thank you. You've been a big help," she said honestly.
"Here, try this," he suggested, giving her one more deep and prolonged kiss.
She kissed him as a purely academic exercise. He did not make her at all nervous, nor aroused either. Eventually he lifted his lips.
"So, now that we've got that out of the way, will you own that I was right about Blake?"
"What about me?" Blake asked, looking daggers at Philip, for he had seen the last long kiss between them and felt livid.
"That you're a perfect guardian," she said promptly.
Blake stared at her in confusion. He had seen them kissing with his own eyes, yet they did not even look guilty or concerned. Or flushed with passion. Not like when he and she had-
Philip bowed. "I'm going to see if I can find my partner for the next dance. Enjoy the fresh air, you two."
"Was he troubling you in any way?" Blake asked with a frown.
"Not at all," she said sincerely. "Why?"
"I wouldn't like to think I had been less than vigilant where you are concerned. He was kissing you, and he is said to be-"
"I know. We have discussed it. You've tried to warn me off him. But he's fine. He doesn't trouble me in the least."
As she spoke she dared to step closer to Blake, and she could feel the warmth of his body. She sobered, thinking of all the time they had spent together in each other's arms under the travelling rugs.
"Cold?" he asked. His eyes too glowed with the warmth of the shared recollection.
He dared to put one arm around her, and led her back into the ballroom. "Come, my dear, another dance will warm you up, I'm sure."
"If you like."
She could not really complain about being in his arms. She just wished it was some place other than upon the crowded dance floor. At least he got to press himself more tightly to her as they waltzed.
But at the end of the dance he said curtly, in a far more harsh a tone than he intended, "I would appreciate it if in future you were not seen skulking in corners with Philip Marshall. You will only get yourself talked about."
She glared at him. "I shall take it under advisement."
Adam came along at that moment, and she seized upon his offer to dance like a dog upon a bone.
Blake could have kicked himself. He had now propelled her into the arms of yet another man… And Arabella was angry, he could tell.
Even worse was the fact that he was set to go to the Jeromes at Millcote by himself tomorrow for a few days to see the lay of the land, leaving her in the care of the Elthams and Stones. Three days without her seemed unbearable enough. It was made all the more trying by the thought of them having quarrelled and not patched it up.
Blake tried to speak with Arabella, but she managed to avoid being alone with him, and went up to bed early and came down late to be sure she would not run into Blake.
Really, he was so blind… She couldn't spend more than five minutes in his company without wanting to fling herself into his arms. It was getting harder and harder to pretend she was indifferent to him. Why, oh why was he so determined to keep them apart?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
By the time Blake returned to Bath three days later after an exceptionally successful trip to the Jeromes' house at Millcote, he could see with alarm that things had moved on quite a bit between Arabella and Adam Neville.
Michael informed him angrily, "He's been here for hours at a time, day and night. You should never have left her."
"I had no choice!" he argued. "I wasn't even sure of my reception at Jerome Manor when I left here. But they were the souls of kindness. They're struggling hard to cope with their grief. They have to for the sake of the two youngest girls, and would like us to join them, put together a house party to lift their spirits."
Michael shook his head. "I'm going to cry off. I really want to get back to my own home. Everyone has been very kind, but I feel I've been in company too much. I need to get used to being alone again, for it is to be my lot in life."
"Only if you choose it to be."
"No, really. I don't want to be a burden. You as heir will have much to do. I'll come other time when things are more settled."
Blake offered him his hand. "We'll see you again soon, never fear. I intend to remain in the district for some time longer, and Millcote is only a few miles away."
"What about London?"
"Arabella is happy here."
"Yes, but what of you? And your work?"
"I've been thinking about what Peter said before he left. There are plenty of ill and poor in the area around here, too. Clifford Stone helps keep Millcote running as a model village, as does Thomas for his own cottages at Eltham, and tries to do for Brimley. I shall speak to them both about the possibility of setting up a practice in the area," he decided upon the spur of the moment.
"I would be delighted," Michael said sincerely.
"Thank you for your support. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to start packing, and find my ward."
"Listen, I know it's none of my business, but if you don't intervene soon, everyone is going to take it for granted that Adam and Arabella are engaged."
"I have no grounds for forbidding the match!" Blake said in agony.
"None except the truth about how you feel."
"She's so angry with me now, I doubt it will make much difference."
"Why is she angry?"
"Because I forbade her to have anything to do with Philip Marshall."
"Idiot!" he exclaimed impatiently. "He's been trying to fend off those two cousins of hers. You took away her second guardian as well as yourself!"
"If you had seen them kissing-"
"He was trying to get you jealous, you twit. Please, Philip is your friend. Adam and Oliver aren't. Take Arabella to the Jeromes and try to mend fences with her, before it's too late."
Blake nodded, and went in search of Arabella.
He found her in the drawing room with Adam and Vanessa Stone, who was knitting and keeping a close eye on the couple. Really, what had Blake been thinking allowing her to be left like this?
"Arabella, may I speak with you for a moment?"
"Yes, of course. Pray excuse me."
Adam gave what passed for a charming smile from him, and praised Vanessa's work in so fulsome a manner that she wanted to go take a bath.
The eldest Neville was so oily. How could they not see what he really was? He sat far too close to her, and she was sure he was staring at her modest expanse of cleavage.
Blake told her briefly of his trip to the Jeromes. "They're lovely people, and would like for us to come stay with them."
She gave him a cool nod. "If you think it best."
"It may perhaps be dull for you after all the diversions of Bath," he said crisply, "but it's important to me. I would thank you to support me, and be on your best behaviour at all times."
She stiffened perceptibly. "I thought I was."
"No sneaking about with your cousins or Philip."
"I never sneak!"
"No, you openly kissed Philip on the terrace for anyone out there to see. You go about with-"
Arabella turned to leave.
He snatched her elbow. "I'm not finished!"
She yanked her arm away, tearing the sleeve of her charcoal grey gown in the process. "But I am."
She stormed out of the room and fled to her own chamber. Was he speaking as her guardian, or as a man? In any case, he had no right, not when he had spurned her. Had kept Leonore as a lover…. Perhaps even Rosalie.
For word had reached her that both women were in fact in the district. Rosalie had taken rooms near Pulteney Bridge, and Leonore was with her sister, a semi-invalid, in Cheap Street. She had run into them at the Pump Rooms not long after the news had reached her.
She had immediately wondered if Blake had really been at Millcote all the time, or if he had used the three-day visit as a pretext for being away overnight, the better to…
She sighed and rested her head against the poster of the bed. Drat this. She would go to the
Jeromes and find out the truth. She would soon know if he had been there all night, every night.
She hated to spy, but she had so many doubts. Her little chat with her housekeeper Maggie had worried her more than she had cared to admit at the time. Once a rake, always a rake?
She needed time. Time to think. To be with Blake and discover the truth. She would be charming and cheerful to all, and never let anyone suspect for a minute that her heart was breaking.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 Page 84