by Mary Balogh
"I shall stroll that way," he said, turning and walking away without another word.
Arabella looked at Lord Farraday.
"A sad case," he said. "Mrs. Hubbard left him a year ago, taking their son with her. He has not been able to recover from the blow, though he pretends."
"Oh, poor man," Arabella said, turning to look at the retreating figure of Mr. Hubbard. "How could anyone do anything so cruel? Oh, the poor man."
"He will not thank you for saying so," Lord Farraday said.
Lord Astor had been invited to join a table for cards in one of the salons. He would normally not have hesitated, as card playing had been one of his favorite pastimes for years. He had never been in the habit of playing very deep, as until recently he had had no great fortune to lose. And he had discovered since he did that his playing had lost some of its charm. Other men expected him to bet more rashly now that he had the money with which to do so, and yet at the same time he became aware of some of the responsibilities of owning a large fortune and having an equally large number of persons dependent upon him for their very life.
A card salon at a respectable soiree, of course, was not the sort of place in which whole fortunes were likely to change hands. It was not the fear of loss or—worse— the fear of losing all rational common sense that had made him hesitate. Rather, he felt obliged to stay in the drawing room for at least half an hour to make sure that Arabella was well-established and did not need his arm to cling to. She could be such a shy little thing. He had feared for her first appearance in polite society.
"Later," he had told the acquaintance who had asked him to play cards. "I shall play the next hand."
And he watched Arabella, who was glowing with excitement or fright or some emotion that had helped her through the ordeal of being promenaded around the room by Aunt Hermione and was now aiding her in conversing with various guests. Her mouth appeared to be moving almost constantly and at a rapid rate.
He was pleased. If only she could acquire a circle of friends and acquaintances and enough courage to face new people wherever she went, then he would be released from this sense of responsibility for her that had plagued him for three days. He could begin to live his own life again, confident that he was not cruelly neglecting a lonely and cowering wife at home.
The day before had been quite satisfactory, of course, except that he had felt obliged to sit at home all evening, having busied himself about his own pleasures all day. And then he had felt sorry he had done so because Arabella had said hardly a dozen words all evening and he had been left to make himself agreeable to Frances. And despite the early night they had all had, he had not gone to Arabella. He had wanted to, strangely enough, and had even prepared himself to go. He had twice had his hand on the knob of the door that led from his dressing room into hers. But he had not gone. He had tired himself out with Ginny that afternoon, he had told himself.
Today had been somewhat tiresome. He had spent a pleasant-enough morning at Jackson's with a large group of friends and had lunched with several of them at White's. They had tried to persuade him to go to the races with them in the afternoon, but he had promised on pure impulse at breakfast to take Arabella to the Tower to see the royal menagerie. And of course he had been teased. Life sentences and leg shackles had been the main topic of loud conversation and laughter for all of five minutes before he had left White's. And then there had been the obligation to appear at tonight's entertainment. He supposed that he would be there even if he had not married Arabella, but he would by now be comfortable and conscience-free in the card salon.
"Astor!" a voice said as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. "I have not seen you for a veritable age. I had no idea you had taken on a life sentence, old chap. My commiserations."
"How are you, Hubbard?" Lord Astor asked. "Did I see you talking to my wife a moment ago?"
"Farraday presented me," Mr. Hubbard said. "She seems like a fetching little thing, I must confess."
"Thank you," Lord Astor said dryly. "I am a fortunate man, I believe."
"She is young," his friend said, raising his quizzing glass to his eye and looking through it at Arabella, who was now conversing with two ladies as well as with Lord Farraday. "Straight from the cradle, Astor? Wise of you, old boy. You would do well to train her to obedience before she develops a mind of her own."
Lord Astor looked steadily at his friend and curbed the sharp retort he had been about to utter. "Arabella seems to be doing well enough here," he said. "Shall we play a hand of cards, Hubbard?"
6
LATER that night Lord Astor sat down on the edge of his wife's bed before snuffing the candles.
"You have had a busy day, Arabella," he said. "Did you enjoy the soiree?"
"Yes, I did, my lord," she said. "Your aunt was obliging enough to present me to a large number of interesting people. And Frances too. And a few of them have promised to send us invitations."
"Of course," he said. "You are Lady Astor. You will find yourself much in demand for a wide array of entertainments." He touched her cheek with one knuckle. "You did not like the menagerie, did you?"
She watched him, her eyes guarded. "It was very kind of you to take us, my lord," she said. "You know how much I miss George and Emily and you thought of a way to cheer me up. I am grateful."
"But it was not a good way, as it happened, was it?" he said. "You think it cruel to confine animals so?"
"I am just silly," she said. "You were very kind."
He smiled. "You may express your own feelings and opinions, you know, Arabella," he said. "I will not be offended if you occasionally disagree with me. And on this occasion, I am not even sure that you do. I saw those poor creatures through your eyes this afternoon, and you are quite right."
She looked earnestly up into his eyes. "I had a horrifying mental image of a country where dogs are strange," she said, "and I pictured George in such a country, confined in a little cage so that people could come and stare and marvel. And I could not bear the thought, my lord. I think I will have nightmares."
"George will be here with you soon," he said. "You said that he was not allowed in the house at Parkland because of your sister? Perhaps we will allow him to inhabit the kitchen area of this house as that mangy little cat does who adopted us off the street about a year ago. Would that please you?"
Her face lit up. "Oh, yes," she said. "How kind you are, my lord."
"My name is Geoffrey," he said.
She flushed. "Yes, my ... Yes," she said.
"Are you very tired, Arabella?" he asked. "Would you prefer that I said good night and returned to my own rooms?"
Her flush deepened. "If that is what you wish, my lord," she said.
He smiled fleetingly.
"I want to make you comfortable," she said. "It is my duty to make you comfortable."
He touched the backs of his fingers to her hot cheek and rose to remove his dressing gown and snuff the candles.
"Very well," he said. "I shall let you make me comfortable, Arabella."
One week later, Arabella was walking in Hyde Park, her face turned up to the early-morning sun, her mood entirely happy. She had George's leather lead wound around her hand. George himself was running across the grass, snuffling at the roots of trees, trying to find something familiar about this new territory. Arabella had let him run loose once they were safely through the Grosvenor Gate into the park. She herself kept to the footpath, as the grass was still wet from almost a week of rain.
George had arrived the day before while she was out paying afternoon calls with Lady Berry and Frances. Both he and Emily. His lordship had come out into the hallway with George as soon as she arrived home, and George had gone into an ecstasy of jumping and barking and tail-wagging and bottom-wriggling. She had not behaved with much greater dignity, she feared. She had gone down on her knees in full sight of two liveried footmen and hugged him. He had behaved like a perfect gentleman until she came on the scene, his lordship had complained when
he could be heard above the din of reunion. But he had not been angry.
Even Frances had been pleased and had totally forgotten to sneeze. Arabella had decided to go out to the stables to welcome Emily before taking off her bonnet and pelisse. His lordship had gone with her after producing a leather lead with which to confine George, a contraption her dog had not liked at all. Arabella would have preferred to go alone, but truth to tell, she had been so happy and so grateful to her husband that she did not feel nearly as shy of him as she usually did.
And now she was out in the park with George, on a beautiful April morning. She could pretend she was in the country if she wished, all was so quiet and smelled so fresh. She felt like running with sheer joy, but she remembered that she was a married lady now and in London and that her husband had warned her against doing anything so improper.
She would heed his warning. Especially when he had been so kind to her. She was still terribly shy of him and still felt quite overshadowed by his splendor. But she had learned during the two weeks of their marriage to respect and even like her husband. He took her and Frances about much more than she had expected. And he had bought her those lovely pearls just the day after she thought perhaps she had displeased him because he had not come to her at night. And flowers the day after she had thought so for the same reason again. And he had taken her to see the menagerie because he had thought it would please her.
Arabella was not feeling nearly so unhappy with her marriage as she had expected when she had first realized the mistake they had made about the identity of the new Lord Astor, though she still wished that she were just a little prettier and he just a little less handsome. She was heartened, though, by the fact that she had definitely lost weight.
He had not hurt her since their wedding night. She had been very relieved to discover that fact on the night of their return to London. She very much wanted to be a good wife. Now she could be so without the danger that she would gasp with pain at an unguarded moment. It was not even unpleasant to perform her main marriage duty, she had found. She always lay still and relaxed for him, and thought about how fortunate she was to have a kind husband. And one who felt good. Yes, she had been surprised to find that, after all, the marriage act was not an unpleasant experience for a wife. At least, for her it was not.
She did not think his lordship could find her a very exciting partner. But she did hope that she made him comfortable. He had teased her about it that one night. After telling her that she might make him comfortable, he had got into her bed beside her and given her the chance to do just that. Then afterward he had rolled to her side on the bed and propped himself up on his elbow.
"Thank you, Arabella," he had said. "You have made me very comfortable indeed." And he had laid one finger lightly along the length of her nose.
Her cheeks had still been burning after he had returned to his own room, and even now she had not decided what the laughter in his voice had meant. Had he been laughing at her? Laughing at the idea that she could do anything to make him feel good? But she did not think so. He was a kind man.
"Why, it is Lady Astor!" a voice called cheerfully. "Good morning, ma'am. How do you do?"
Arabella had been aware of two horses approaching at a canter, but she had not looked toward them or their riders. She looked up now to see Lord Farraday and another gentleman whom she did not know. She lifted her hand and smiled gaily.
"Good morning, my lord," she called. "Is it not a beautiful day? You see? My dog arrived from the country yesterday. His lordship was kind enough to send for him."
"So you told me a few evenings ago at the Pendletons'," Lord Farraday said. "I am glad he has come at last, ma'am. That black-and-white collie? He looks a bundle of energy."
"Will you present me, Clive?" Lord Farraday's companion asked.
Arabella was soon curtsying to Sir John Charlton, a slim, blond, good-looking young man, and feeling uncomfortable. She was glad that they did not stop for a lengthy conversation. She waved them on their way a minute later and called to George to begin the walk home for breakfast. Why could she never relax and be herself when confronted with handsome gentlemen?
Arabella and Frances were attending their first ball at the home of the Marquess of Ravenscourt. It was a come-out ball for his daughter, Lady Harriet Meeker. They had come early with Lady Berry, who had insisted that since they were new to the ton it was only right that they make an appearance soon enough to be seen and presented to some eligible persons.
Lady Berry had taken her job as chaperone quite seriously, Arabella thought. Not that she really needed a chaperone, of course, being a married lady. But Lady Berry had pointed out, and his lordship had agreed, that since she was a very young married lady and new to the ton, and since she had an unmarried sister with her equally new to society, it would be as well for them to be accompanied by an older lady.
They had been promenaded around the ballroom, greeting several acquaintances made during the previous week and a half, being presented to many people they had not met before. The cards of both began to fill with the names of prospective partners.
Arabella was gratified. His lordship had taken himself off somewhere as soon as they had reached the end of the receiving line, after telling her that he would return to lead her into the opening set of country dances and writing his name in Frances' card for a quadrille later in the evening. Arabella had expected that her sister would be much in demand as a partner. A glance around the ballroom as it began to fill showed her that there was not another lady to match Frances in beauty. But she had not expected to dance a great deal herself. Who would wish to dance with a small, round-faced, plump girl who was also married?
But Lord Farraday and Sir John Charlton had signed her card, and then several gentlemen to whom she had been presented for the first time that evening, and then Mr. Hubbard, who reminded her that she had talked to him at Lady Berry's soiree the week before. Not that she had needed reminding. She had been affected by his sad story. Indeed, before the orchestra began to make promising noises that suggested the dancing was about to begin, Arabella found that her card was full, except for the spaces next to the two waltzes. She had no idea how that dance was performed.
"Oh, Bella," Frances said beside her, "is your card full too? I can scarce believe this is really happening. Is not Sir John Charlton very handsome? How fortunate it is that you were presented to him just this morning. Had you not been, perhaps he would not have liked to seek out our acquaintance tonight."
"Yes," Arabella said. "He is a little like Theodore in coloring, is he not?"
"Oh, only slightly. And in coloring only," her sister said, frowning slightly. "But Theodore is not nearly so fashionable or so elegant, Bella. I think there is really very little likeness." She turned to talk to a young lady beside her with whom she had struck up a friendship in the past week.
Arabella wished Frances had not reminded her of her presentation to Sir John Charlton. She did not want to think about that morning. Or the afternoon, for that matter.
She had been so happy. There had been the walk with George in the morning, and there was to be a ride on Emily in the afternoon. His lordship was to accompany her into the park. And of course there was this ball—her first—to look forward to in the evening. There had seemed to be not a cloud in her sky. Until she had been summoned into the library after luncheon, that was.
"You took George for a walk in the park this morning, Arabella?" Lord Astor had said. He had been gone from the breakfast room by the time she had returned home.
For once she had forgotten her shyness with him. "Yes," she had said, smiling fully up at him. "It was so lovely, my lord. The grass was wet and glistening in the sunlight, and the sky was blue again. I could imagine myself in the country. You should have been there too."
"I wish I had been, Arabella," he had said, but he had not responded to her smile. "You met Farraday and Sir John Charlton?"
"Did Lord Farraday tell you?" she had asked. "He was o
bliging enough to stop to talk for a minute, and Sir John asked to be presented to me."
"Farraday should know better than to have put you in such an awkward position," Lord Astor had said.
Arabella's smile had faltered at last. "Is Sir John not a desirable acquaintance?" she had asked.
"I know of nothing against him," he had said. "Why did you not take a maid with you, Arabella?"
She had felt her color rise as she stared back at him. "I was merely going to the park," she had said at last.
"Merely the park," he had said. He had been standing before the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, his legs apart. He had looked very large and formidable to Arabella. "Do you not realize that Hyde Park is the gathering place of all the most fashionable people in London, Arabella?"
"It was very early." Her voice had been defensive, her eyes wary.
"It is very improper, Arabella," he had said, "for a lady to appear in any public place unaccompanied. It is even more improper to converse with two gentlemen, one of them unknown to you, while you are doing so. Did you not know that?"
"Yes," she had said. "I did know, my lord. But I did not realize that it was such a strict rule. The park is so close and the hour was very early."
"I do not know Charlton," Lord Astor had said. "We must hope that he is a man of some discretion. But he asked to be presented, you say? I am disappointed in Farraday. He should have ridden past and pretended not to see you. However, I think he can be trusted not to make anything of the story. The situation is not serious, Arabella. But I will expect you to be more discreet in future. If your sister or I am not available to accompany you where you wish to go, then you must take a maid."