The Secrets of Armstrong House

by A. O'Connor

  “Oh, I feel as if I know you,” said Emily with a smile.

  Arabella looked at her for any sign of sarcasm or innuendo, but there was none.

  “It was a nice suggestion to go for a drive,” commented Arabella as she looked at the leaves coming out on the passing trees.

  “Oh, we’re not going for a ride around the estate – I only said that to the others.”

  “I see – where are we going?” Arabella asked, knowing now for sure that the whole expedition was a ploy arranged by Charles.

  “To Hunter’s Farm,” said Emily as she turned the phaeton down the road.

  “What’s to see at Hunter’s Farm?”

  “It’s a small manor house on the estate. It’s only used as a guest house. Nobody goes there otherwise. You’ll be quite safe there.”

  Arabella realised Charles was waiting for her at this Hunter’s Farm. She stared ahead again in awkward silence. Emily turned the carriage into a short driveway and drove up to a pretty dowager house surrounded by sycamores.

  “I’ll come back to collect you this evening,” said Emily.

  Arabella stepped down from the carriage then turned to look at Emily. “Whatever must you think of me?” she said.

  Emily just smiled at her, turned the carriage and sped away.

  Arabella walked up to the front door and opened it.

  “Charles?” she called as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

  Charles came from the drawing room, quickly took her into his arms and started to kiss her.

  Arabella pushed him away and walked into the drawing room.

  “What do you think you’re playing at?” she demanded angrily as he followed her in. “Managing me into this terrible situation of coming down here for the weekend? Having to be in the same room as all our families, and Harrison and you!”

  “I thought you’d be delighted. It’s given us an opportunity to spend some real time with each other instead of a few snatched hours here and there.”

  “Have you no shame? How can you sit in your brother’s company as if nothing was wrong, when you are sleeping with me?”

  “I don’t care! All I care about is being with you.”

  “Well, I care! Poor Harrison –”

  “Poor Harrison, my posterior! If you cared so much about Harrison, you wouldn’t be here now. You managed to get yourself out of a voyage to New York, I’m sure you could have got yourself out of a weekend at Armstrong House – if you really wanted to.”

  Arabella said nothing for a long while before sighing. “And there lies the problem . . . I had to see you again. It’s like a drug. And I don’t care who I’m betraying in the process. I want to stop, but I can’t . . . But I don’t think I can go on for much longer with this. The pressure is too much. Having to smile and nod at your parents and family, and Harrison . . . And as for Emily! She’s a young impressionable girl whom we are ruthlessly using for our own ends!”

  He came over to her and put his arms around her. “She’s loving it! She’s loving every moment of it. She’s having more excitement with us than she ever thought possible.”

  “It doesn’t make it right,” said Arabella.

  “All I know is what feels right,” he said, bending down to kiss her.

  That night Emily sat playing the piano for everyone in the drawing room.

  “She plays very well,” Caroline said to Margaret.

  “Emily has been getting lessons.”

  “She has come along in leaps and bounds since I met her last. You’re doing a wonderful job with her.”

  “Well, I’ve been working very hard on her, Lady Tattinger.”

  “Well, it shows.” Caroline’s eyes fell on Harrison and Arabella sitting side by side on a couch. He was trying to engage her in conversation, but she seemed to be gazing off into the distance. “Has Harrison said anything about setting a date for their wedding?”

  “Well, I know he’s longing to get married, but they don’t seem to have progressed with any actual plans or arrangements.”

  “Hmmm, that’s my understanding as well,” mused Caroline.

  Margaret hesitated before speaking. “He’s confided in me that every time he broaches the subject with Arabella, she sidesteps it.”

  “Really?” Caroline was surprised. “Well, there’s no point in them hanging around!”

  “Yes . . . Perhaps Arabella is just a little nervous about assuming the responsibility of becoming a wife and running her own house?” suggested Margaret.

  “With her dowry, they should be well set up and have no need to worry.”

  “Perhaps we need to push them along a bit?” suggested Margaret.

  On the Sunday afternoon Lawrence suggested that he and Harrison go for a walk. They went across the forecourt and down the flight of stone steps that led to the first terrace of gardens.

  “Where has Arabella been all day?” asked Lawrence as they reached the end of the first terrace and walked down another flight of steps to the next.

  “She set off with Emily first thing after breakfast and I haven’t seen them since,” said Harrison. “I’d hoped this weekend would be an opportunity for us to spend some relaxed time together. But Emily has taken her away for most of the time.”

  “You can’t blame your sister if she is a little bedazzled by the glamorous Arabella,” said Lawrence.

  “I couldn’t imagine Emily ever being bedazzled by anyone.”

  They reached the bottom of the terraces and the lakeshore and began to walk along the pebbled shoreline that gave way to stretches of sand.

  “Your mother tells me you haven’t settled on a date for the wedding yet?” said Lawrence, choosing his words carefully.

  “No.” Harrison looked down to the ground in thought. “I’ve tried to numerous times over the past few months. But every time I try, Arabella just changes the subject quickly.”

  “Have you tried to ask her why?”

  “No. There was no point in me pushing her to . . . For the past while, she seems distracted. It’s as if I don’t have her attention when I’m with her. We were never like that before . . . we were so close. I’m worried.”

  Lawrence slowed down. Harrison was always different from their other children. Ever since he was a child, he needed gentle encouragement. None of the others ever needed gentle anything as they all knew their own minds, often too much so.

  “Harrison, I think you need to stop beating around the bush with Arabella. Set the date, the venue and get on with it. In my opinion she is seeing you as not being determined enough and is fearing you have the same doubts as you fear she is having!”

  “Do you think so?” Harrison said.

  “Yes, I do. It’s Gwyneth’s wedding next month and the Tattingers are invited. There’s nothing like attending a wedding to make a young woman think about her own. It’s your opportunity to tie the whole thing down.”

  chapter 14

  The weeks flew by and Gwyneth’s wedding was approaching fast.

  Charles was preparing himself for another trip to Dublin and was brushing his hair in the mirror in his room as Margaret talked to him.

  “There are going to be some very important people at Gwyneth’s wedding. Important people with important daughters. And Gwyneth’s marriage will be elevating us and putting you in a prime position to select a wife.”

  Charles admired himself in the mirror. “I wasn’t really thinking of marriage quite so soon.”

  “Well, when were you thinking of it?”

  “I hadn’t given it much thought . . . I’d better run, I don’t want to miss my train.” He kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

  Charles came bounding down the stairs and into the drawing room where he saw Harrison sitting in front of the fire, legs up on a footstool. Harrison had taken some time off from work for Gwyneth’s wedding and was relaxing for the week in Armstrong House as he thought about his next step with Arabella.

  “What are your plans for the week?”
<
br />   “Oh, just staying in, nothing planned.”

  As Harrison observed Charles, dressed in an immaculate black cape, all set for a few days’ fun in Dublin, he wondered would Armstrong House ever be enough for him.

  “Well – have fun. See you in a couple of days!” Charles glided out.

  The house was a hive of activity in the week leading up to the wedding with the door constantly being opened to receive presents from far and near. Margaret was in a spin as she rushed around, checking the final arrangements for everything from the flowers to the cake.

  “It’s exhausting, just exhausting!” she exclaimed as she entered the drawing room where all the family, except Charles, were gathered.

  “Come and sit down, my dear!” said Lawrence, gesturing to the armchair beside his. “You need to rest!”

  “Rest?” Margaret demanded as she sank down beside him. “There is so much still to be done!”

  “Well, we’ve only another week or so of it, and then we’re back to normal!” soothed Lawrence. “But I do think Charles should have been here for the week to assist.”

  Margaret looked over to where her five other children were chatting and laughing together. “Soon Gwyneth will be married to His Grace, and then we will never be together as a single family again.”

  Lawrence saw the sadness in his wife’s face. “You’ve done a wonderful job raising our family and, tomorrow, when our daughter takes her position at the head of one of the empire’s great families it will be a reward for all that work.”

  “After all this effort preparing for the wedding, it’s hard to believe it will soon be all over.” Margaret shook her head in wonder.

  “Well, come to think of it, you won’t have much time to relax. From what Harrison tells me you’ll be straight to work on his wedding with Arabella.”

  She smiled at him happily and hugged him.

  Charles had given the servants in the house in Dublin the week off as he entertained Arabella there with nobody to disturb them.

  “Where do your parents think you are?”

  “With my friend Mabel. I can’t stay late tonight, Charles. My parents and I are heading down early tomorrow to be in good time for Gwyneth’s wedding the next day.”

  Charles grimaced. “Oh, the wedding! It’s costing a fortune. My parents keep insisting that, as she’s marrying His Grace, we have to spend money accordingly and not let the side down. If my other two sisters cost as much with their marriages, there will be nothing left for me to inherit by the time I become Lord Armstrong!”

  “I’m quite looking forward to the spectacle of it all,” said Arabella. “And yet dreading it as well. Staying in Armstrong House again. Having to go through the game of charades with Harrison and our families again.”

  Charles reached out and took her hand. She held it tightly.

  chapter 15

  And what a spectacle it was! The morning of the wedding a fleet of carriages brought the guests to the church in the village. The cream of society from all around the United Kingdom had made their way there to celebrate the Duke of Battington’s wedding to Lord Armstrong’s eldest daughter.

  As Lawrence and Gwyneth were brought to the church in an open-topped carriage the roads were thronged with local well-wishers clapping and cheering. Arabella and her parents arrived only just in time for the ceremony as Caroline mislaid her white lace parasol at the last moment and their departure from Armstrong House was delayed. Now Arabella watched from one of the middle pews as Gwyneth glided gracefully up the aisle on her father’s arm to her awaiting groom, her twenty-foot wedding train being tended to by Daphne and six other bridesmaids. Emily had refused to be a bridesmaid, and no amount of bribes or blackmail changed her mind. As Arabella watched the Bishop officiate the service and looked around at the calibre of the guests, she realised the Armstrongs were now connected to the top tier of society by this marriage of their daughter. It made her feel a little insignificant. As she looked up at Harrison sitting in the first pew with his family, she thought he looked a little sad. Unlike Charles beside him who looked very pleased with himself and the attention he was receiving as the Armstrong heir that day.

  The service over, the bells rang loudly as the newly married couple walked down the aisle and the grounds around the church were swarming with guests and onlookers.

  Harrison came rushing over to the Tattingers.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t get here on time,” he said. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t have waited at the house and accompanied you here.”

  “Why wouldn’t we get here on time?” snapped Arabella.

  “Well, you were rather late . . . I wasn’t sure whether you were being driven by a coachman or if Sir George had chosen to drive himself – in which case you might have got lost or –”

  “Hardly! Do we look like imbeciles?” said Arabella, as she studied Charles who was flirting outrageously with some refined-looking young women.

  Harrison looked embarrassed. “Anyway, I’d better go, my family is waiting. I’ll see you at Armstrong House for the reception.” With that, he turned and walked away.

  “Arabella!” chastised Caroline. “That was impolite of you.”

  Arabella quickly turned her eyes from Charles and looked at Caroline, confused “Sorry?”

  “Harrison was only making conversation. There was no need for that tone you used with him.”

  “What? Oh, I was distracted . . . I didn’t mean to be rude.” She quickly scoured the crowd in search of Harrison but couldn’t see him.

  Caroline watched Gwyneth and her Duke walk happily into Armstrong House followed by the family. “Imagine, Arabella, your and Harrison’s children will be cousins to a Duke,” she whispered.

  Inside they circulated among the other guests in the hall where footmen dressed in dark-blue and white livery and white wigs served champagne.

  “There’s Harrison now,” said Arabella, spotting him in the corner of the crowded hallway.

  Caroline took Arabella’s arm and looked at her pointedly. “Try and be nice to him today, Arabella. It’s his sister’s wedding.”

  “Aren’t I always nice to him?” Arabella was surprised by her words.

  “Not always . . . not recently. You’ve been very dismissive of things he says.”

  “Have I?” Arabella was even more surprised. “He hasn’t complained.”

  “There’s a surprise! Harrison complaining about anything? Complaining about anything to you?”

  Arabella looked at the floor as they made their way over to Harrison.

  However, they were soon separated from him again for the lavish wedding banquet in the ballroom, as he was seated with his family at the top table. But afterwards he came straight back to the Tattingers and was an attentive host.

  It certainly was the Armstrongs’ day, thought Arabella, as people thronged around them. And Charles in particular was receiving a lot of attention. A lot of female attention that made her burn with jealousy.

  Arabella forced herself to avoid watching Charles all the time and to concentrate on Harrison, but she found it difficult. And when Charles did come over to them to talk, she didn’t find it awkward or feel guilt – she was just glad he was paying her attention.

  “There you are, Charles!” said Margaret, rushing over to him and grabbing his arm. “Oh, hello, Arabella dear!” She reached forward and kissed Arabella’s cheek. “I must chat to you and your parents later. Charles, come with me this instant! I need to introduce you to an earl’s daughter who I have just met. She’s about to be presented at court, so it’s her first season; she speaks four languages, and has the most beautiful table manners I’ve ever seen! Quickly, follow me!” And she raced off.

  Charles turned to Harrison and Arabella and smirked. “Meeting this young lady really does sound like too good an opportunity to miss!”

  Arabella stared after him as he walked off after his mother.

  Ten minutes later and Charles was still lavishing all his attentions on the
multi-lingual young woman.

  “Arabella, it’s warm in here, would you like to go for a walk?” asked Harrison.

  Arabella tore her stare away from Charles. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”

  The couple went out through one of the French windows and began to walk. There were other guests strolling through the parklands in the sunny afternoon.

  “Your parents will be delighted – the day is a triumph,” said Arabella.

  “They did put a lot of work and money into it.”

  They said nothing more as they walked along, Harrison trying to think of things to say that would interest or entertain her, Arabella wondering if Charles was still charming the earl’s daughter.

  “You’ll be returning to Dublin tomorrow, you said?” said Arabella at last.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to get back. All I know is, this past week here, all I’ve thought about is you and how I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

  “You talk too flippantly about feelings,” said Arabella, trying not to sound cutting.

  “No, I just speak the truth. I missed you so much.”

  “You shouldn’t think about me as strongly as you do,” she said.

  “Why not? I’m in love with you. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.” He stopped walking and looked at her, puzzled.

  “You deserve somebody much better than me, Harrison,” she sighed.

  “They don’t come any better than you.”

  “Oh, yes they do. If you had any sense you’d get back to that wedding and get your mother to start introducing you to those young women she’s rounding up for Charles as quickly as possible.”

  “Arabella, what are you saying? Not one of them could even hold a light to you.” He stepped towards her.

  As she looked at his loving kind face, tears sprang to her eyes.

  “You don’t even know me, Harrison.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I know you better than anyone.”

  She started to wipe away her tears. “I – I – don’t think I can marry you, Harrison.”