Reunited at the King's Court

by Helen Dickson

  Hester looked at Arlette with a strained expression. ‘What did Sir Ralph want?’

  ‘My answer to his marriage proposal. I told him I wouldn’t marry him and then William appeared’

  ‘Did he touch you?’

  Arlette shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘That’s a relief. William, thank goodness you arrived when you did and I thank you for coming so promptly.’

  Arlette stared at her. ‘You sent for him, Hester?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘For what reason?’

  Taking Arlette’s hand, Hester pulled her down beside her on to a settle. ‘I have become deeply concerned about Sir Ralph’s persistence to make you his wife. Already he has started to work his spite on Richard. He can be vicious when roused. I spoke to Richard about my deep concern and you may be surprised when I tell you that he is in agreement that it would be best for you to leave London.’

  ‘And the debt Richard owes him? He will call it in, you know that.’

  ‘Yes, we do. Knowing you are to marry William, Sir Ralph will be feeling thwarted, but I know many of Richard’s associates thought it was wrong for him to lust after a girl half his age. He is not well liked and there will be many who will rejoice in his embarrassment.’

  ‘You will do this for me—you and Richard?’

  ‘Yes. You are my dear sister, Arlette. I want what is best for you and it is not seeing you as the wife of Sir Ralph.’

  ‘But what of you, Hester? I don’t want to leave you at this time. You will have need of me when it is time for the child to be born.’

  Hester laughed to allay her concern. ‘Arlette, I have a house full of servants I can rely on. Do not concern yourself.’

  ‘I still don’t like leaving you. But—what has this got to do with William?’

  ‘He is leaving for Warwick shortly and I think you should go with him, as his wife.’

  Arlette’s eyes flew to William. ‘But—I thought you were jesting when you told Sir Ralph we were to marry.’

  He shook his head. ‘I have never been more serious of anything in my life.’

  Angry at his arrogant assumption that she would simply fall in with his wishes, something inside her rebelled. She got to her feet, an indignant flush mantling her cheeks. ‘Your arrogance amazes me. You haven’t asked me to marry you. How dare you assume that I will. Since I was not present at this meeting you had with Hester, perhaps you would be so good as to enlighten me.’

  ‘I saw Hester yesterday. Before I go any further, I will tell you that I had already decided that I would ask you to be my wife before I came. Your sister is concerned about you, Arlette. I think she is right. You would be better away from London at this present time.’

  ‘I had thought you could go to Mayfield, perhaps stay with Blanche,’ Hester said, clearly worried that Arlette was about to turn her well-laid plans upside down. ‘That was before William told me he wanted to ask you to be his wife.’

  ‘I can still go to Mayfield. If William is to go to Warwickshire, then he can take me. He doesn’t have to marry me.’ She looked at him. ‘You and I have travelled the journey together in the past without mishap. Now we are no longer at war the journey should be even easier.’

  ‘As my wife.’

  ‘No, William. What you said to me on the day you found out about Marian and James cannot easily be set aside and will always stand between us. If you expect me to meekly abide by your wishes and do your bidding, then you are either jesting or insane. I would be grateful if you would escort me as far as Mayfield. Be assured that I shall endeavour not to be troublesome or an encumbrance and to do my best not to disrupt the journey in any way.’

  William raised his brow in an arrogant arch. ‘It would be appreciated. I do salute your courage and your boldness for undertaking such a taxing journey.’

  ‘As far as Mayfield. We’ve had a letter from Thomas. He is to come home at last to Mayfield.’

  William stared at her in amazement. ‘Thomas? You have heard from him?’

  ‘He is to return to Mayfield Hall with his wife and child. What he will find when he gets there is anyone’s guess. It would be a relief to us all if a member of the family is there to welcome him home and explain everything that has happened during his absence. He will be unaware of our father’s demise.’

  ‘He is well, I hope.’

  ‘Yes,’ Arlette replied. ‘At least his letter gave us hope to believe so.’

  ‘Then I shall look forward to seeing him.’

  ‘You will, if you take me with you.’

  William looked at her. Her flesh gleamed rich and warm and his head was filled with the delicious scent of her. Something quickened that had lain dormant since he had last seen her. It was a good feeling, but he did not intend nourishing it lest it weakened him.

  Arlette stood still, feeling suffocated by his nearness. He watched every line of her face as he considered the request, every fleeting expression. It pricked sorely that Arlette had to wait for his reply and, had the cause been less desperate, she would have told him to forget it and stormed off.

  ‘Well, William,’ she prompted. ‘Do you agree to let me travel with you? I promise you I will give you no cause for complaint,’ she hastened to assure him. ‘You won’t even know I’m there.’

  As he cocked an eye at her, he smiled, thinking she would be hard to ignore at any time. ‘Common sense tells me you spell trouble, a heap of it, but I know how eager you are to go to Mayfield.’

  ‘Thank you, William,’ Hester said, casting Arlette a cross look. ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that. I wouldn’t trust Arlette with anyone else, but I sincerely hope you will give consideration to William’s marriage proposal, Arlette. You will be compromised if you accompany him as a single woman.’

  ‘How can I consider it when he hasn’t had the temerity to ask me?’ she quipped. ‘When do you hope to leave?’

  ‘Two weeks, three at the most.’

  ‘Then we will make sure Arlette is ready,’ Hester said, getting to her feet, thinking that William would have more chance of persuading her sister to accept his proposal of marriage without her looking on. ‘Now I’d best go and tell Richard what has been decided.’

  A silence fell between them, broken only by Hester’s heels on the stone flags as she walked towards the door. Arlette looked at William. His broad shoulders and clear-cut profile were etched against the green fields beyond the window. Watching Hester’s retreating figure, he suddenly turned and caught Arlette’s appraising eye. She saw his face and felt her heart give a sudden leap. If only everything could be normal between them and that wretched business with Marian had never happened. William’s eyes were fixed on Arlette’s face. It was he who broke the silence.

  ‘Is it decided, Arlette? Will you go with me to Arlington Court as my wife? Can I persuade you to accept?’ Suddenly he grinned, moving to stand in front of her. ‘It wouldn’t be difficult. I only have to take you in my arms to kiss you into submission.’

  Arlette stepped back, eyeing him warily. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  One dark eyebrow rose in a measuring look and an almost lecherous smile curved his lips. ‘Would you care to put it to the test?’

  ‘No, I would not, and don’t you dare. That is blackmail.’

  He laughed. ‘Call it what you will, Arlette, but if blackmail enables me to kiss you into submission then I am in favour.’

  Arlette flushed, unable to quell the peculiar sweet stirring of pleasure his words caused. He meant it, she knew, and she was flustered by his possessive remark. His proposal tugged at her heart, despite the current rift between them. She longed for him to reach out and draw her into his arms, but she had erected barriers and there they would remain until she was of a mind to remove them.

  ‘I can vouch for my sister’s concern regarding Sir Ralph, but wh
en I recall your less than gentlemanly treatment of me when you found out I had kept Marian’s affair from you, you must forgive me if I doubt yours. I told you then that I refuse to be second-best. Don’t you understand, William? You are asking me to be your wife for all the wrong reasons. You make a mockery of me.’

  William gazed at her, noting the soft confusion in her searching eyes. ‘You are not second-best, Arlette. Never think that. I want you. No man of sound mind could resist so much temptation set before his eyes. You have captured my interest and I have become hopelessly entangled in my desire.’

  His eyes never left her—they seemed to scorch her with the intensity of his passion. Arlette was bewildered by it and lowered her gaze, afraid to meet that penetrating stare. She was already too well aware of the beguiling quality of his smile. ‘You can’t force me to marry you if I don’t want to. Even if you drag me to the altar, you can’t make me say I will.’

  William smiled, recognising in her answer the same kind of hostility when he had tried to negotiate with fellow soldiers in unfortunate circumstances. Exactly like those soldiers Arlette felt powerless and in her pride felt the need to retaliate by making things as difficult as possible for him. ‘What a proud, foolish woman you are,’ he murmured. ‘I won’t have to force you. There’s no reason why matters should not be amicable between us, Arlette. I feel that as my wife life would be more endurable, and pleasant.’

  Arlette looked at him warily. ‘Really! How?’

  ‘Like this,’ he murmured, pulling her close, his arms slipping easily about her and crushing her to him. Bending his dark head, he captured her mouth in a soft, compelling kiss, warming and penetrating to the depths of her being. His mouth forced her lips apart, his tongue teasing.

  Arlette tried to turn her head, afraid that her will and her anger would crumble beneath his onslaught, but he held her in a gentle, but unyielding, grip, his hands boldly passing over her waist, her hips, possessively. For a moment her body responded eagerly, then mingled anger at his impertinence and horror at her own swift reaction caused her to stiffen in his arms.

  William dragged his lips from hers and looked down at her, noting the tell-tale flush on her cheeks.

  She seethed with anger and humiliation. ‘You are asking me to enter into a binding contract to change my life, something that will determine my entire future.’

  She tossed her head back and William was alarmed to see not only anger, but what looked like a mixture of contempt and—what was it?—could it possibly be anguish?

  ‘You are taking it for granted that because I allowed you to kiss me on more than one occasion I will marry you. It’s not like that for me.’

  ‘Then remember this. I know how you feel when you are in my arms. I have seen it in your eyes and how you reacted, and if you think you can watch me walk away, you are mistaken.’

  There was a warning underlying the lightness of his words and Arlette knew that he spoke in all seriousness. The deep timbre of his voice reverberated in her breast and she gave up trying to discern what his faults might be. But she needed to preserve all her resources for herself if she expected him to see reason. How could she accept his offer? Of course she wanted to marry him. Her heart cried out for it. There was nothing she wanted more than that—but not like this. Not when he was fresh out of a betrothal to a woman who had rejected him—not when she would always be his second choice.

  She was still standing close to him, the look in her eyes telling him she was her own woman and if he thought he could bully her into doing his will then he could think again. But she could feel his eyes on her, feel his penetrating gaze on her face, feel his presence with every fibre of her being and a growing warmth suffused her, melting her wariness. ‘Has it not occurred to you that I might appreciate being asked to marry you? Am I not to have a say in the matter, an important matter that will affect my whole life?’

  ‘Of course you have,’ he murmured, taking her arms and drawing her close once more. ‘But what are you afraid of?’ he asked, his voice deep and husky.

  She stared up at him, her mouth agape, his tall form making her achingly aware of her own vulnerability and helplessness. He was going to kiss her again, she knew it. ‘I’m not afraid,’ she whispered, her voice holding a desperate appeal as she took a step back.

  His response was to draw her back. Raising her hand, he kissed her fingers very gently. Her heart was pounding a deafening beat. She was tense and still, her brain racing as she tried to think of a way out of this.

  ‘William, please, I—’

  ‘Arlette,’ he murmured, ‘be quiet.’

  Looking into her eyes as he caressed her fingers with his mouth, he could feel her melting, feel it in the way her fingers trembled.

  ‘But I—’

  He stopped her words with his thumb gently pressed against her lips. ‘Be quiet.’

  Chapter Nine

  The tone of his voice was so soft and inviting that for one mad moment Arlette almost surrendered. She felt herself tremble with the need that he always invoked in her when he was close, but she must not let him come closer. ‘You cannot mean to do this.’

  Taking her shoulders, he drew her lithe form towards him, capturing her in a fierce embrace, his eyes feasting on the delicate creaminess of her face and her shining hair. ‘I mean it,’ he whispered, his mouth against hers. ‘The attraction between us has been denied for too long, my love. I think we need to reach an understanding before I leave this house today.’

  ‘There is nothing to understand,’ she whispered, suddenly afraid of the purposeful gleam she saw in those heavy-lidded eyes looking down at her.

  ‘There is, Arlette,’ he said as his lips caressed her cheek. His hands sank into the thickness of her hair, holding her head immobile as his mouth slanted across her lips and devoured their sweetness, languidly coaxing and parting, his tongue probing and plundering the honeyed cavern, as if he had an eternity to explore and savour. Pleasure rolled over his body, pleasure turning to desire. He wanted to taste her, to run his fingers through the silken mass of her hair. Within seconds his loins stirred.

  The sweet urgency of it made Arlette lose touch with reality. It filled her soul. The embers that had glowered and heated her rebellion earlier now burned with passion, her protestations having become raw hunger. It was a kiss so exquisite that whatever conscience she had left died, as she became imprisoned in a haze of dangerous, terrifying sensuality over which she had no control.

  Sensing this might be the moment to press his suit, he dragged his lips from hers and looked down at her upturned face, which was flushed a glorious pink. ‘Your eagerness astounds me. Nothing you can say or do will change that. You do want me, Arlette,’ he told her with a knowing smile. ‘You cannot deny it.’

  She swallowed nervously and stared at him, memories of his passion, his gentleness and restraint filling her mind, and added to that were memories of her own urgent desire. She opened her mouth to utter a denial, wanting to hurt him, to humiliate him, but her conscience chose that moment to assert itself and strangled the words in her throat. She had gloried in his kiss and she could not bring herself to tell him otherwise.

  ‘Yes, William, I do want you,’ she replied fiercely. ‘I want you so much that it’s unendurable.’

  William tenderly caressed her cheeks, relieved when she didn’t draw back. ‘My poor little Arlette. It needn’t be. It could be something quite wonderful if you would let it.’

  It was his tone, not his words, that conquered her. ‘I know,’ she whispered shakily.

  ‘Then don’t fight me. You will tire yourself out with the effort. In the end you will succumb to what is in your heart and you will not want to fight me any more.’

  Arlette breathed deeply, looking at him steadily. ‘You are so sure of that, aren’t you, William? You are so arrogant in your assumption.’

  William’s expression grew serio
us. He looked at her steadily. ‘Apart from Marian—a situation which you understand fully—you are the only woman I have offered for. You are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with and I will not be satisfied until you are my wife. Surely that must count for something in your estimation of me.’

  Arlette swallowed and averted her eyes, feeling confused, her spirit still bruised from their harsh altercation that day he had discovered Marian’s infidelity. Rather than stir up old hurts, she said, ‘Yes, of course it does.’

  William tilted her face to his. ‘It was wrong of me to assume you would fall in with my plans without talking it over with you first, Arlette, and your reaction was exactly the reaction I would expect a proud, rebellious, lovely young woman to make. I apologise,’ he conceded quietly. ‘I have behaved badly. I deserve your anger, but not your dislike.’

  To Arlette’s mortification, tears stung her eyes. ‘But I don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t think that.’

  ‘I know you don’t,’ he said with feeling. Sensing her trepidation, he took her hand gently in his. ‘So, Arlette, are you willing to plight your troth to me? To be my wife? Unless you would prefer to accept Crompton’s suit?’

  ‘No, of course not, although you know just how close Richard is to ruin and how advantageous a marriage between us would be for him.’

  ‘I am aware of that. Despite the wars and the drain on Royalist coffers, I have come out of it better than most. I am not a poor man, Arlette. I have offered your brother-in-law a sizable stipend to be paid for your hand upon execution of the agreement,’ William informed her. ‘It will go a long way to shoring up his financial situation.’

  Arlette looked calmly into his eyes. ‘That is indeed generous of you, but when you put it like that, so matter of fact it might be a business proposition you are talking about, I feel that I am in exactly the same situation as when Sir Ralph proposed marriage. I will be marrying you to save my sister’s husband from ruin and for no other reason.’