“It was a play,” she interrupted.
“Ah, yes. Well, then, since you’ve obviously recovered your memory, perhaps you’ll remember crawling about on the ground, playing some game, or so I was convinced. Imagine my surprise when you crawled beneath my chair, took a pin, and stuck me through the shoe.”
“Perhaps you should have worn boots,” Arabella said sweetly.
“That’s what Sebastian always said. Oh, but your little prank was always the source of much amusement for my brother.”
Arabella winced. She wasn’t proud of her behavior that day, but she wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand, either. “I begin to recall. You were limping when you left, weren’t you?”
“Indeed. I did my best to avoid you, but you saw my horse and came running. I thought you meant to apologize, so I stopped. You offered me your hand to kiss —so much the little lady! — and so I took it. I thought I was safe, for the duchess had her eye trained on us.”
As he spoke, he edged nearer. This time Arabella did try to step away, but the column was at her back. There was nowhere she could go to escape him.
And indeed, escape was foremost in her mind. For the glint in his eye set her heart to leaping and her pulse to pounding. What the devil was he about?
She looked him straight in the eye. The handsomest man in all England. Yes, she’d heard tales of him. Some women, she knew, considered the man engaging. Disarming. Arabella considered him the worst sort of cad imaginable.
“Would you please leave?”
“Miss Templeton, how rude! I’ve not yet finished my story.”
“I know the outcome.”
He continued as if he hadn’t heard. “But then the duchess turned away. You fisted your fingers and drew back your hand, and punched me with all your might. You left me bloodied and looking as if I’d been injured in a boxing match. Indeed, that’s what I was forced to tell my friends.”
“So you lied!” She made no secret of her disdain.
“Obviously you know little of a man’s honor. Was I to tell them I’d been bested by a child?”
Arabella snorted, a distinctly unladylike sound. What did a man like him know about honor? He was a selfish scoundrel, who cared nothing about anyone but himself and his indulgences.
Her frame of mind was little improved when he laughed, the wretch! She disliked being the source of his amusement.
Her gaze slid beyond his shoulder. “I don’t see your companion,” she stated pointedly. “Hadn’t you better find him?”
“Oh, but I cannot leave you here alone. Indeed, I count myself quite the gallant. I saw you hiding from your admirers, in particular dear Walter, and decided to rescue you.”
Arabella fumed. Drat! He was too astutely observant for his own good…and for her comfort.
“I’m surprised you even remembered my name,” she said stiffly. “It was only because I wounded your pride that you did.”
Again that slow, simmering look. “Oh, but you do yourself an injustice. I’ve just spent three months on the Continent. And what do I find when I return? All the ton raving about The Unattainable. And, I must say, with good reason.”
Her back stiffened. “Pray do not make light of me.”
“A mere statement of fact. My friend Gideon regaled me with countless tales of your suitors. And all true, it would seem, for it has come to my attention tonight that men do have a tendency to stare at you.”
“Just as women have a tendency to stare at you.”
“And you, Miss Templeton? Are you among those women?”
His tone was cajoling, almost lazily caressing…accompanied by a smile in perfect harmony.
Arabella was amazed, and more than a little incensed. Did he truly think she would allow herself to be taken in by it…by him?
Apparently so.
“Let me say this, my lord. If I should ever chance to stare at you, ‘tis only because of your arrogant impudence.”
To her utter shock, that devastating smile only deepened.
It only made her all the more determined. “And if you should ever chance to make me shiver from head to toe, it will be in disgust. For I, sir, would never allow myself to be swayed by a handsome face and a winsome smile.”
He was undaunted. “My, but you’re prickly tonight. Perhaps I was wrong and you haven’t changed at all.”
“Nor have you, sir.” Eleven years had passed since they’d last seen each other. Eleven years and he was still a prancing young buck. A profligate. A hellion. A heartbreaker, as she well knew.
“I’m flattered that you remember me so well.”
“Don’t be,” she said flatly. “Even if your reputation did not precede you, I’ve an excellent memory for faces.”
He regarded her, that wretched smile still lingering on his lips. “I confess, my dear Miss Templeton, that I am given to wonder what makes men flock to you like hounds to a fox. Certainly it is not your flirtatious mien.”
Before she knew what he was about, he snared her hand. Arabella tried to snatch it away, but it was neatly trapped by the snugly unremitting pressure of strong male fingers.
“You doth not protest, my dear. We’ve an audience.”
Oh, God, he was right. More than a few heads were turning their way. And Walter stood on the sidelines, looking for all the world as if he’d been whipped.
Justin stepped close. “Miss Templeton, our meeting has been” — he pretended to consider — “another memorable occasion.”
Caution fled to the winds. On her lips was a parody of his mocking smile. “And I would say it has been a pleasure,” she parried, “but indeed it has not.”
The pressure of his fingers tightened even more. He stepped close, so close he blotted out her view of the rest of the assemblage.
“A word of warning, my dear. Tread lightly, for my reputation is not unwarranted.”
Her reply came swift as an arrow. “I am not afraid of you, my lord.”
“Perhaps you should be.”
“Ah, but you don’t bite, remember?”
“And perhaps I lied. Indeed, I’ve been known to eat up tender little girls like you.”
Arabella straightened to her full height. “I am neither a girl nor little. And I vow you’d find my hide quite tough.”
He threw back his head and laughed. Arabella fumed. She was not pleased at being the brunt of his amusement.
“You denied me the chance to kiss your hand once before. I fear I must do so now.”
There was no stopping him. Before she could form a protest, he was lifting her hand. Their eyes tangled in the instant before he slowly bent his dark head.
He released her, spun around, and walked away calmly.
Her eyes widened. Her lips parted. She stood, too stunned to move, to believe what he’d just done. She’d expected a light, airy kiss breathed upon her knuckles. But what she got was something else entirely…
Why, he’d nipped her, the rogue!
Four
Early the next afternoon Georgiana burst into the drawing room. Arabella sat alone as she prepared to take tea. Her aunt was upstairs napping.
“Arabella, you must tell me what happened! Oh, but I was so disappointed that Mama and Papa decided to leave early!” In a swirl of skirts, Georgiana settled on the sofa beside Arabella.
Arabella placed a hand on the silver teapot the maid had just deposited before her. “Tea, Georgiana?” she inquired.
“Tea would be lovely, thank you. Now, you must tell me everything.”
“One lump or two?”
Georgiana very nearly shrieked. “Is that all you have to say?”
Arabella handed her a delicate silver and ivory cup. “What would you like me to say?”
“Well, I’d like you to tell me what happened with Justin Sterling last night! Arabella, I’m amazed that you are so calm. He singled you out, you among all the other women there!”
Arabella suspected the only way to avoid Georgiana’s questions was to answer them. �
��Only because he was on the Continent and newly returned to London. He was there only to meet The Unattainable.” Her mouth turned down. Lord, but she despised that name. She hated it as much as she hated the attention she’d managed to garner this Season.
Of course, as Aunt Grace had demurely mentioned over breakfast this morning, it would end were she to accept an offer. And when Aunt Grace gently reminded her she was almost one-and-twenty…
It was all she could do not to flee the table in tears.
She hadn’t, of course. She’d masked the hurt as she’d learned to do. There was no malice intended, of course. Aunt Grace and Uncle Joseph loved her like one of their own. Arabella also knew Aunt Grace and Uncle Joseph would like to see her make a good match — they’d done quite well with their own three daughters. Aunt Grace had subtly reminded her only a few days ago that her cousins had managed to snag an earl, a viscount, and the second son of a duke.
But Arabella didn’t want to “snag” a husband. She was in no hurry to even gain a husband. And she certainly wasn’t in London to acquire one. Indeed, the only reason she was here was because the last time she’d traveled to Africa, the heat had made her deathly ill; thus, Mama and Papa had insisted she stay with Aunt Grace and Uncle Joseph when Papa was sent back to Africa last month.
Perhaps it was because she hadn’t grown up a proper London miss that marriage did not consume her every waking thought. Perhaps it was because she had never truly fit in anywhere. Her appearance had always made her the odd one out, so to speak. Not that a soul on this earth knew, even Georgiana, but Arabella wasn’t quite sure where she belonged, or what her place should be.
Should she ever chance to wed, it would only be to a man who didn’t mind that she was clumsy and didn’t mind that she laughed when she shouldn’t and said what she shouldn’t…a man who loved her for herself, who loved her for what she was…wild, red hair, lanky limbs, freckles and all…
A man who loved her for all that she was not, and could never be.
The way Mama loved Papa.
It had caused quite a stir when her beautiful, elegant mother had wed a man who resembled a scarecrow, and a clergyman yet! Catherine’s elder sister Grace had managed to land Viscount Burwell. But what Arabella’s parents shared was a love that was deep and abiding.
And Arabella would settle for no less herself.
The Unattainable indeed, she reflected glumly. Aunt Grace was ecstatic when the first proposal had come — from an earl, no less! Aunt Grace had been shocked when Arabella refused Lord Thomas Wilbury’s suit. She’d gazed at her as if Arabella were quite daft. Arabella was convinced that Aunt Grace thought it might be her one and only chance at marriage.
Incredulously, another followed almost immediately, this from Phillip Wadsworth. Faith, and it was probably terribly shallow, but it didn’t help that he was half a head shorter than she. Perhaps it was vain, but that was the one thing about which she was incredibly sensitive.
When the last proposal came from Ashton Bentley — the wretch had actually tried to kiss her! — Aunt Grace had taken her aside. Of course, she’d been obliged to inform Aunt Grace his conduct had been quite ungentlemanly.
“Arabella, did you hear me?”
Georgiana’s query brought her back to the present. “What were we discussing?” she asked, though she knew very well what it was.
“Justin Sterling,” her friend supplied promptly.
“Oh, him.” Arabella lifted her teacup.
Georgiana’s mouth quirked. “Yes, him.”
“He only came to see The Unattainable,” she said again. “Trust me, Georgiana, he wouldn’t have come near if he’d known it was me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He dislikes me as much as I dislike him.”
“Arabella, I must confess, I was quite stunned when I realized you knew him. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“What’s to tell? Oh, of course I’ve known of him for many a year. But I hadn’t seen him since I was a child. And indeed, I confess, there is but one occasion that truly marks the boundaries of our acquaintance.”
“Do tell,” pleaded Georgiana.
Arabella’s mouth compressed. “I’d rather n —”
“Oh, please, Arabella,” Georgiana begged.
“Very well, then. It happened at the Dowager Duchess of Carrington’s country estate. I was on my way outside when I chanced to pass by a room where two people were talking. The door was ajar and — oh, I know it was quite untoward of me, but I slipped behind it and stopped to listen.”
“Who was it? Justin Sterling?”
Arabella nodded. “He was with a girl named Emmaline Winslow. I’ll never forget, for I thought her the most divinely beautiful creature ever to grace this earth. But she was crying, Georgiana, crying. And even as I stood there, Justin Sterling made no bones of his feelings. I will never forget his words. He told her there were other women just as fetching as she. Indeed, he stated, she was but one pearl among many and he intended to sample them all! And it wasn’t just that, Georgiana. It was the way he said it, so cool, so carelessly indifferent!”
“Oh, the poor girl!” Georgiana’s tone reflected her sympathy.
“She was nothing to him, Georgiana, nothing but his latest conquest. He walked out then. He walked out with his nose in the air, a prancing, preening peacock who clearly thought much of himself! He left Emmaline sobbing her heart out, alone in the house. But I determined that he should have his comeuppance.” She relayed how she had followed him outside and slipped beneath his chair. “I settled for his shoe,” she finished, “though I’d have dearly liked to aim for a higher vicinity.”
Georgiana struggled not to laugh. “No wonder he remembers you.”
Arabella refreshed her tea. “Well, he deserved it.”
“That he did,” agreed Georgiana, “but, Arabella, you say the most outrageous things sometimes!”
Arabella reached for her cup. Her blue eyes sparkled above the rim. “I know,” she murmured demurely, “it’s quite unseemly. But you won’t tell, will you?”
“Not a word,” Georgiana promised.
Her laughter faded. “At any rate, now you know why I consider Justin Sterling the most odious creature alive.” What she didn’t divulge was that his behavior last night had only affirmed her opinion. A part of her was still aghast, for clearly his audacity knew no bounds.
And yet she recalled, with vivid clarity, the bounding leap of her heart when he’d bent over her hand…
“I agree, he does have the most horrid reputation. Perhaps all he needs is the right woman to tame his wickedness…” Georgiana’s voice trailed off.
Arabella glanced over at her. There was an odd expression on Georgiana’s lovely features, somewhere between guilt and anxiety.
“What is it?” she asked briskly.
“It’s nothing,” Georgiana murmured.
“Obviously it’s something or you wouldn’t look like that.” Sometimes Georgiana needed encouragement. She wasn’t like Arabella, to blurt out whatever was in her mind. Indeed, Arabella decided wistfully, she wished she were more like Georgiana.
It took strenuous effort to check her impetuous nature, and somehow she was never very successful.
“Georgiana?” she murmured.
Georgiana took a breath. “I was just thinking about the two of you last night — The Unattainable and the handsomest man in all England.”
“Pray don’t call me that. And don’t call him that, either.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re sensitive about that…But admit it, Arabella. Is he not the most wonderfully splendid man you’ve ever seen in your life?”
Arabella couldn’t help it. Unbidden — most certainly unwanted — a vision implanted itself in her mind. Eyes of shimmering emerald and firm, masculine lips tipped up in a suave, masculine smile that made the bottom drop out of her stomach just thinking about it.
“I hadn’t noticed,” she replied primly.
She di
dn’t fool Georgiana. Nor did she stop her.
“Oh, Arabella. You should have seen it, really. There was something almost spectacular about the way the two of you looked together…him so dark and dashing, the perfect foil for you and your vibrance. And the way he towers over you. Why, you barely reach his chin —”
Not so. Her eyes, Arabella was quite certain, were on the exact same level as his lips.
“I confess,” Georgiana went on, “it was really quite romantic.”
Arabella’s cup hit her saucer so hard the liquid sloshed over the edge. She stood, intending to fetch a cloth to mop up the mess. But when she turned to dart for the door, her knee connected with the delicate table where the tea service sat.
The table tipped. China went flying in all directions. A dark stain began to spread on Aunt Grace’s prized Aubusson carpet.
“Oh, bother,” she muttered. Georgiana chuckled, already halfway out the door to fetch a maid. She returned with a cold cloth to press on Arabella’s bruised knee, and resumed her seat.
“Thank you.” Arabella slanted her a fond smile. “You are a dear.” She paused, then said softly, “It’s amazing that we ever became friends. We are such opposites, aren’t we? You’re graceful and tiny as a raindrop, while I’m grace less and thunder about like a great lout.”
“Stop it, Arabella. You sell yourself short. Which reminds me: Are you going to the Bennington gala tonight?”
Arabella nodded.
“Hmmm,” said Georgiana. An innocent pause, then, “Do you think he’ll be there?”
There was no doubt who she meant. Arabella groaned. “Now, there’s a dreadful thought.”
Georgiana laughed, while Arabella wished she could.
Oh, but Georgiana could be such a tease. It was a well-known fact that when it came to women, Justin Sterling chose only the pink of the ton. Really, to even intimate that she and Justin looked spectacular…why, it bordered on the ridiculous.
Yet she couldn’t deny, in some faraway place hidden deep inside her, a part of her was rather flattered.
Perfect 2 - A Perfect Groom Page 4