‘Oh yes!’ Frances said before Arabella could get in a word. ’
‘That sounds wonderful!’ exclaimed Hannah, who loved parties of any sort. She reached for Arabella’s hand and patted it.
Arabella managed to look both pleased and terrified at the same time.
Chapter 3
Henry, William, and Benjamin — not only brothers but triplets — were riding their horses behind the family’s best coach, all of them on their way to Scunthorpe Hall. True to their word, Frances and Cat had spent several weeks organising an art show to display Arabella’s best works.
This was one of the first parties Cat had hosted as a member of the nobility, so it was terribly important that it go well. A duchess who couldn’t present a successful soirée would be shrouded in shame.
Cat had been trotting quite hard with all the organising and hadn’t had much patience for her new brothers-in-law in their own home. She had been curt with them at times, and at least one had noticed.
‘I’m honestly not looking forward to this,’ Benjamin said. ‘Especially after the way Cat’s been acting.’
‘What way is that?’ Henry asked hotly, ready to defend his wife.
‘I’m excited,’ William replied, ignoring the brotherly spat.
‘You are?’ Henry repeated, stunned.
‘I am,’ William said. ‘What? Am I not allowed to be a fan of art … the art of seducing young maidens?’
Henry burst out laughing.
‘Chastity is a virtue,’ Benjamin replied.
‘It’s not as if we’re visiting a brothel,’ Henry reminded him. ‘This is a dignified, noble event.’
‘Although it would be entertaining to see Cat’s reaction to that,’ William joked.
‘Your sense of humour is drôle, Brother,’ Benjamin said dryly.
‘I forgot to be self-righteous. Do they teach that at Oxford?’ William responded.
The coach pulled up to Scunthorpe Hall. The brothers dismounted from their horses, handing them over to the grooms.
Cat alighted from the coach first, assisted by Henry. ‘Mother?’ William said. Their mother appeared at the door. ‘May I escort you in?’
‘Of course, son,’ Mother replied, taking his arm.
Inside, the major-domo announced their entrance into the ballroom. ‘I would so enjoy it if you danced a pair with Arabella Chamblin tonight,’ Mother said to William as he escorted her to their table.
He barely suppressed a groan. ‘She’s the guest of honour. I doubt if her evening has an empty spot for another dance,’ he replied. ‘I’ll ask, and we’ll see.’
William actually had no plans to pursue Arabella Chamblin. She had a dowry, according to Cat, but she was not a noblewoman. He wished he were free to court whoever he fancied, but that was not the way of the nobility. Marriage was an alliance, a transaction.
He darted about the ballroom, charming a few noblewomen immediately and winning a spot in their evening’s dance reservations. After a few dances, he took a break to cool off with the punch à la romaine the footmen were passing to the guests — a delicious iced concoction of rum, lemon water, meringue, and sugared syrup.
‘Son,’ Mother said, approaching him and taking his hand. ‘I wish you’d dance with that little Arabella girl. She’s so shy. I don’t think I’ve seen her out on the dance floor once tonight!’
‘Isn’t that her problem? Why should I solve it?’ William replied. ‘Our family isn’t hosting this party — it isn’t my duty to entertain unattended ladies.’
‘Don’t be glib with me,’ Mother said sternly. ‘She must be in high fidgets. Soften your heart and give her a chance.’
‘I was looking for Hannah Wakeley, actually,’ he said.
‘One pair — that’s all I’m asking!’ Mother hissed.
~~*~~
Arabella felt light-headed. She was supposed to be the belle of the ball in her emerald-green muslin evening dress and matching bandeau, with her art up on all the walls, but instead, she felt naked. She wasn't sure she could bear a bad review of her works — it would feel like an insult to her as a person.
So this hour found her sitting in the kitchen, sipping cordial water with the family’s cook, having sneaked away from Hannah’s older brother, Andrew, her well-intentioned chaperone. He had been like a brother to her too since her father’s death, and she knew he meant well tonight, but he didn’t understand all the emotions the night was evoking in her. She was in a pelter and needed to be away from the crowded ballroom.
‘Feel any better, dearie?’ the cook asked her.
Arabella shook her head.
Hannah bustled in. ‘Oh, Bella, there you are! You have to come out and join the party sooner or later! Everyone’s waiting for you, and Andrew's been looking for you all over!'
‘I can’t,’ Arabella whispered. ‘Tell him I’m fine, but all those people … being the centre of attention —’
‘Franny and Cat wanted to host this soirée for you,’ Hannah reminded her. ‘They want to see you married and happy, and there are so many bachelors here. It’s as good as a Come-Out party for a girl of the ton!’
‘They got carried away and didn’t even listen to me!’
‘They can be like that,’ Hannah said. ‘You look lovely, though.’
Arabella trembled, twirling a lock of her dark curly hair that had escaped from her bandeau. ‘I feel ill.’
Hannah took Arabella’s hand, drawing her hair from between her fingers. ‘Come on, darling. Both of Cat’s bachelor brothers-in-law want to dance with you. Think about dancing, not talking, and everything shall be fine.’
Arabella took a deep breath. ‘Aye, very well,’ she agreed.
Hannah took her by the arm and led her out to the party, where Cat and Frances were chatting beside Arabella’s painting of pears.
‘Bella!’ Frances exclaimed over the din. ‘The party seems to be a rousing success!’
Cat gasped suddenly, looking over Arabella’s shoulder.
Arabella turned around just in time to hear the new guests announced: ‘Her Grace the Duchess of Wolverhampton and Lady Tabitha Varden!’
‘Why was she invited?’ Arabella exclaimed.
‘Yes, Franny, how did that happen?’ Cat asked suspiciously. ‘I don’t remember her name on our list.’
‘I had to,’ Frances replied sheepishly. ‘You’ll find that you have to as well. It’s politics. You don’t want to offend her family.’
Cat gave Lady Tabitha and her mother an icy stare. Tonight they were wearing matching crown turbans of white satin, net, and pearls.
‘I know she dislikes us, but two of her three brothers are bachelors. Arabella can’t miss her chance,’ Frances said.
‘They’re so high in the instep, they’d never give me a chance,’ Arabella said. ‘I’m not of the nobility. She and her brothers are known for being shrewd about whom they court.’
Frances and Cat smiled. Both had recently wed dukes and were settling into married life, secure in knowing they would never have to worry about courting again. ‘Enough fretting! Let’s have a glass of sherry, shall we?’ Frances said. ‘Bella, would you like to join Cat and me?’
‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ Arabella said. ‘But thank you.’ She wondered where Andrew had gone.
~~*~~
‘Arabella!’ Edith, Dowager Duchess of Thornton — or Mother Edith, as Cat liked to call her — was making her way over.
‘Oh!’ Arabella exclaimed in surprise when Mother Edith, upon reaching her, hugged and kissed her in a way that seemed, indeed, quite motherly. Arabella had lost her own mother more than ten years ago and missed her deeply.
‘Oh, dear girl, your art is marvellous! And my two bachelor sons, William and Benjamin, are eager for a set with you! I’m reserving the next pair of dances in their names,’ she said, repeating both sons’ names for their reservation.
‘Why, Duchess,’ the Duchess of Wolverhampton called out as she approached. ‘You’re signing up to dance with Ar
abella?’
‘Oh, no, Duchess!’ Mother Edith laughed. ‘Two of my sons want to dance with the guest of honour.’
‘Well, if you are signing up your sons, then I shall sign up mine,’ said the Duchess, requesting Arabella’s third pair of dances from Mother Edith. ‘I’ll have you know, young lady, that Dudley and Jasper Varden are very eligible bachelors, and they are much in demand!’
‘Thank you,’ Arabella managed to squeak out.
‘I’m sure your paintings will sell for a fine price,’ said the Duchess, mentioning her sons’ names again. ‘I haven’t had a chance to look at all of them yet, so I must go.’
‘It was nice seeing you, your grace,’ Arabella said as the Duchess hastened off towards another group of nobles.
‘I never liked her,’ Mother Edith muttered.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Arabella said.
‘Oh, nothing. This way, dear. William was asking about you.’ She took Arabella’s arm and pushed her in the direction of her middle son, who was chatting with Lady Tabitha’s married brother, Giles Varden, Marquess of Wolverhampton. ‘William, I just reserved a pair of dances for you with Arabella!’ she sang out. ‘Her evening was filling up quickly, so you should thank me!’
Arabella thought she would die of embarrassment.
‘Miss Chamblin, would you do me the honour of this next set?’ William asked, extending a gloved hand as the musicians began a waltz.
‘Certainly,’ Arabella squeaked out.
He took her hand, and with his other firmly grasped her waist, reminding her of a poem she’d read by Lord Byron about the waltz. She could see why some thought the dance scandalous … but at this moment she was enthralled. William showed her that he knew how to dance, and dance well. Her feet felt as if they were barely touching the ground.
‘My mother asked you to reserve a dance with you, didn’t she?’ he asked. ‘I apologise.’
‘She did,’ Arabella admitted, ‘although I didn’t mind so much.’
‘She can be overwhelming at times,’ he said and smiled down at her gently.
‘I’m fine,’ Arabella said. ‘I saw you. The night of the accident.’
‘The trampling, yes. I regret your having to see that.’
‘I thought it was quite kind that you prayed over the man.’
‘I was waiting on the vicar. It was the only decent thing to do.’
‘Still … he was working class. Not everyone would have done that.’
‘Class doesn’t matter,’ William said. ‘Everyone deserves prayers at the end of their life.’
The waltz ended, and he escorted her back to her table. Andrew was seated there, looking relieved to see her again.
‘Thank you for the set, Arabella. It was delightful,’ he said.
She curtsied in response. He bowed back to her.
‘Thank you for the pleasure of Arabella’s company, your grace,’ he said to Andrew, who acknowledged his courtesy with a smile. Cat had introduced them earlier, as she’d promised.
‘Miss Chamblin? I believe I have this set?’ It was Lord Benjamin, the youngest of the triplet brothers. He was almost as handsome as William, with twinkling blue eyes that suggested mischief. The musicians were launching into a perennial favourite at balls, a country dance.
She coloured up. ‘You boys are keeping me busy!' She said as he escorted her to the dance floor. She was pleasantly surprised to find him an excellent dancer despite being in training for the priesthood.
Her sets with Lady Tabitha’s brothers were not as rewarding, for they were not the most graceful gentlemen in the ballroom. She was relieved when Lord Dudley escorted her back to her table after their set, happy to catch her breath after their vigorous pair of Scotch reels. But she felt much more at ease, and by the time the musicians stopped playing, she had taken a turn with nearly all the eligible bachelors in the room.
Next Andrew escorted her to the harp to play a selection, and she started to feel even more confident; she could do this, be a hostess! Then it was time for her artworks to be presented for auction, piece by piece. As Andrew walked with her to the centre of the ballroom, she was grateful to have him by her side. She was feeling calmer, but it was still a nerve-racking experience.
The audience oohed and aahed at each of her paintings, and she felt reassured. The bids were higher than she ever dreamed possible. Her art was actually worth something!
‘And now for the final work, the pièce de résistance,’ the auctioneer called. The footmen entered the ballroom carrying a canvas with a piece of velvet draped over it. This was a painting of the fountain and water lilies at Bedfordshire House, where she and Hannah lived with Andrew and his wife, Vivian. Arabella had worked on it for weeks. She was looking forward to its unveiling because it was her favourite piece.
The art curators slowly lifted the velvet and then, with a quick flick of their wrists at the last moment, caused the whole painting to be unveiled at once. The entire crowd gasped. Arabella couldn’t believe her own eyes: it seemed like a terrible trick was being played on her. This wasn’t her painting at all — it was a painting of a nude man!
Arabella had never seen a nude man in her entire life. Where had this painting come from?
The curators quickly recovered the painting with velvet. ‘It seems there's been a terrible mistake. This was to be a painting of water lilies and a fountain,' the auctioneer said. ‘We apologise for any embarrassment, and we'll be removing this piece immediately.'
Arabella felt dizzy.
‘Bella!’ Cat exclaimed. In the centre of the ballroom, Arabella swooned, but not before catching a glimpse of Lady Tabitha and her mother looking unbearably smug.
Chapter 4
Arabella looked out the window of her chambers at Bedfordshire House. She had not left it in days following the humiliating scene at her art show. She had spent most of the first three days crying.
Hannah had been a good friend and sat with her while she cried, assuring her this mood was only temporary and would pass. Both Cat and Frances came over too, to tell her it wasn't so bad: her reaction had made it evident to all present that the painting wasn't hers. Someone had sabotaged her art show, merely to make malicious on dit. Arabella couldn’t think of a single enemy she had in the world: why would anyone do this to her?
After a few days, she got out her oil paints, put on an apron to protect her dress, and began painting again. She spent the next week lost in her world of art and paints and wondered if she could get away with signing a different name to her work. Maybe she could go overseas to Venice and become a street-side painter by the canals, like the ones Cat had told her about. And change her name.
Her thoughts became maudlin. Of course, she could never leave the loving care of Hannah and her brother and support herself in a foreign world. No proper, virtuous woman travelled alone, although the idea was romantic and tempting. She wouldn't be able to fend for herself at a port without getting taken advantage of by total strangers.
There was a knock on the door to her chambers.
‘Bella? You need to come out of there, now,’ Hannah called. ‘Dear, I know that party was terrible, but you do have work. Lady Lily and Lady Anastasia have missed you.’
Arabella sighed and sat down in a corner chair. She wished she could disappear.
‘They’ve been understanding and given you time off, but it’s been a week! Bella, are you in there?’
‘Yes, come in,’ Arabella replied.
The door opened slowly. ‘Bella,’ Hannah sighed, seeing her. ‘You can’t stay in here all by yourself forever!’
‘I wish I could,’ Arabella said, dipping her paintbrush into the turpentine cup and rubbing it with the rag.
‘It’s only on dit. It’ll die down in time,’ Hannah said gently, rubbing her shoulder. ‘Cat wants to have us over for a ladies’ luncheon in the gardens. It’s the latest fashion — all the ladies of the ton are doing it. Doesn’t that sound lovely?’
‘Aye, it does,’ A
rabella sighed. ‘I wish I could.’
‘You can, Bella,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s stopped raining; the sun’s out for once. Why don’t we go? It’s a short coach ride. You can wear something pretty.’
‘Aye, I'll go,' Arabella said, at last, standing up, ‘as long as no one sees me.' She looked all around, seeking a disguise, and came upon a solution.
~~*~~
William was in the study, playing a game of chess against Benjamin, when he saw a coach arriving outside. He didn’t think much of it; people were always coming by to visit.
He moved his knight on the board, trying to avoid checkmate. Benjamin, he was loath to admit, was better at chess than he was.
Benjamin moved his bishop. ‘Check.’
‘What? That’s not check!’ William spluttered.
‘Yes, it is! I’m one move away from taking your king.’
William scoffed. How could he keep Benjamin from achieving checkmate? He studied the board and then moved his rook. ‘Checkmate.’
‘That’s not checkmate,’ Benjamin said.
‘Yes, it is,’ William said, smiling. Chess was his favourite game, after all. His years in the military had honed his understanding of strategy, while Benjamin had chosen a path to the priesthood instead.
Benjamin groaned and stood up. ‘Winner cleans the board.’
‘Humility, Brother. Don’t they teach you the virtues in your divinity classes?’
Benjamin gave a disgusted sigh as he left the study. Laughing, William reset the board piece by piece. Alone now, he looked out the window. Cat was outside, greeting the guests in the coach. He saw Lady Hannah Wakeley climb out, followed by a girl in a bonnet and a dark veil. She was tiny, and he couldn’t see her features well.
William knew that as a member of the family, he was required to greet Cat’s guests, so he dutifully descended the staircase to the foyer. There he stopped dead in his tracks, surprised by the identity of the girl in the veil: it was Arabella Chamblin.
The veil seemed strange. His mother had worn one after his father’s death and after Richard’s. Why was Arabella wearing one?
The Lord's Portrait (A Regency Romance) (The Regency Brothers in Love Book 2) Page 2