The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square: A Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

  And still, he knew, she could not be his. Not when she was engaged to another. Would that change if she still knew the depth of his affections? Would she be willing to cry off if he could offer her his heart anew?

  “You look troubled, Jacob.”

  Arabella’s eyes caught his and he was shaken by the strength of her gaze.

  “Does your head pain you badly?”

  He managed a tight smile. “A little, but it is of no trouble.”

  “And your leg?” she asked, a little more quietly. “Was it because of your leg that you stumbled?”

  Jacob frowned, recalling with absolute clarity what had occurred. “No,” he said, slowly, seeing the alarm rise in her expression. “It was not my own doing, Arabella.”

  She made to ask him another question, her eyes a little wide with horror, only for Miss Halesworthy to make an exclamation. Jacob looked over Arabella’s shoulder and saw a hackney approaching, with Lord Halesworthy leaning out of the window.

  “Might I call upon you tomorrow?” Arabella asked, as Miss Halesworthy rose to her feet to greet her brother. “Jacob? Would you mind terribly?”

  He looked back at her, askance. “You believe that I would prefer not to have your company, Arabella?” he asked, directly, seeing her eyes lower. “No, indeed, that is not the case. I would very much like to see you again, my dear lady. We have only just begun to find our way together again and even if I am to have nothing other than friendship from you, I –”

  “I have cried off.”

  Jacob’s breath caught, his mouth falling open as he stared at her in astonishment. For a moment, he wondered whether he had heard her correctly, or whether the pain in his head and his leg was dulling his senses.

  “It is true,” she continued, softly, as Lord Halesworthy stood by the hackney, ready to help him in. Her cheeks were flaming with colour, but she suddenly returned her eyes to his and held them steadily. “I have cried off.”

  Jacob tried to find something to say to this, something astute at the very least, but found that his throat was filled with sand, his mouth seeming to be dry and scratching.

  “So, you would not mind if I called upon you tomorrow, then?” Arabella asked again, her hand settling on his for a brief moment. “I must tell you, Jacob, that I have a good deal to express to you.”

  “I can think of nothing that would bring me greater joy,” Jacob rasped, his whole body seeming to swell with a great and wonderful hope that sent his heart soaring into the clouds above. “Are you telling me the truth, Arabella? You are not pretending?” He saw her laugh, her eyes sparkling with what could only be love for him.

  “Indeed, it is quite true,” she promised, letting go of his hand and rising to her feet. “it will be all over London by tonight, I am quite sure, and I may even be given the cut direct by one or two of the most esteemed ladies in London.” She shrugged and laughed again as he stared at her. “But I think it will be worth the shame, Jacob.”

  “I think so too,” he breathed, hardly able to take his eyes from her and feeling the promise of tomorrow already settling into his heart.

  Chapter Eleven

  Arabella was more nervous than she had expected. Her breathing was quickening with every step she took, her hands clammy in her gloves as she made her way to the Duke of Crestwick’s townhouse.

  Two other ladies, arm in arm as they walked, immediately began to whisper as Arabella made her way past them. She did not care. She had already endured a Ball last evening where most of the ton were talking about the end of her engagement to Lord Winchester, and she did not have as many eager gentlemen who sought her hand for a dance.

  Not that she had been upset over such a thing, for she had quite expected it and, in a way, welcomed such treatment. There was something so wonderfully freeing about being removed from Lord Winchester, to the point that she sometimes felt quite giddy with the delight of it all. She could mend what she had broken so long ago with Jacob, for there could be nothing to hold them apart any longer, not now. Arabella was quite sure that Jacob still cared for her and having the opportunity to express the affections of her own heart to him was going to be both wonderful and terrifying in equal measure.

  He could, quite rightly, reject her for what she had done in the past, but Arabella did not believe he would do so, not after how he had reacted yesterday afternoon when she had told him about her decision. The flair of hope in his eyes had been enough to give her all the encouragement she needed.

  “Arabella.”

  She caught her breath, whirling around to see none other than Lord Winchester storming towards her, his face black with fury. She made to step back, feeling intimidated by his anger, but forced herself to remain exactly where she was in spite of her sudden fear. Lifting her chin, she gazed at him steadily, telling herself that he would not dare touch her in the middle of the London street, and especially when she was only a few steps away from the Duke of Crestwick’s house. Silently, she berated herself for taking such a long time to walk to the house, knowing that she had been dawdling in order to try to calm her growing nervousness.

  “Lord Winchester,” she said, quietly, emphasizing the fact that he had not referred to her as he ought. “What a pleasant afternoon this is, do you not think?” She smiled pleasantly, fully aware that her lack of response to his dark mood was, most likely, only frustrating him further. Her maid hung back, giving them privacy to speak – for once, Arabella truly wished that she would not.

  “You are going to see St. Leger, are you not?”

  Arabella did not so much as blink. “I hardly think that my actions are any of your business, Lord Winchester.”

  He glared at her, his eyes narrowing still further. “I have come to give you one final opportunity, Arabella.”

  One eyebrow slowly arched although it was with an effort that Arabella kept her breathing steady and regular.

  “Opportunity?” she repeated, with an attempt at bored indifference.

  Lord Winchester began to smile, his eyes now flashing. “The opportunity to step back from this course of action, Arabella. To ensure that you save yourself and others from any unwanted consequences.”

  Alarm began to rise in her chest. “As I have said before, Lord Winchester, I have made up my mind. Good day to you.” She made to turn away, only to gasp as Lord Winchester grasped her arm rather painfully and forced her to turn back. Arabella refused to wrench her arm from his grip, knowing that it would only bring more unwanted attention, but felt her heart beginning to hammer so terribly that she feared it might leap from her chest.

  “Unhand me this instant, Lord Winchester,” she hissed, praying that no passers-by would see this and begin to spread rumours. Her family had already more than enough to deal with since she had cried off. “How dare you be so forward!”

  Much to her relief, Lord Winchester did as she asked, although his grin remained fixed, his eyes glittering with a malevolence she did not want to understand.

  “I hear Lord Jacob had a nasty fall yesterday, Arabella,” he said, in a voice so quiet that only she could hear. “That leg of his… what a shame.”

  Something in his voice had her trembling. “What do you know of it, Winchester?” she asked, dropping all formality. “What do you know of his fall?” She could not help but recall what Jacob had said, stating that the fall had not been of his own making. She saw Lord Winchester’s grin widen, as though he were enjoying her torment.

  “I do hope that nothing further should happen to him,” Lord Winchester continued, his voice devoid of sympathy or compassion. “It could be quite terrible if he should find himself a true cripple, unable to use his leg in any way whatsoever. A worse fall than yesterday’s accident might render him quite useless.”

  Arabella felt herself shake violently, suddenly aware of what Lord Winchester was saying. “You are threatening St. Leger?” she whispered, no longer feeling as strong nor as confident as before. “You are trying to force me back into our engagement?”


  Lord Winchester shrugged and took a small step back. “I would prefer to call it gentle encouragement, Arabella. You have the choice here. If you want to ensure St. Leger’s safety – and I am quite sure that you do – then you will think very carefully about your chosen course of action.” Another glittering smile ran across his features, making Arabella wince with the horror of it all. “If you do not do what you are required to do, then the consequences will be on your head.”

  Arabella shook her head, refusing to allow the fear she felt to take hold of her. She would not give in to Lord Winchester’s threats and demands, not when he was doing all he could to manipulate her. This was simply another way for him to try to get what he felt he was owed, to remove the shame of her crying off. She would not accept it. She would not stand for it.

  Lifting her chin a notch, she looked back into Lord Winchester’s eyes and saw that his expression was filled with triumph. It was as though he felt that he had already succeeded in his demands, and that he expected her to simply fall at his feet, cowering in defeat.

  Had he still not learned? Did he still not see her as she truly was?

  “I must thank you for the warning, Lord Winchester,” she said, clearly, her heart lifting a little as she saw his smile slip. “I shall be sure to inform Lord Jacob this very minute about what it is you intend to do to him.”

  Lord Winchester’s smile died almost immediately, the triumph disappearing from his eyes.

  “You did not really think that I would simply bow to your wishes, simply because you threaten St. Leger, did you?” she asked, keeping her voice light and airy. “Come now, Lord Winchester, I thought you had learned that I am not easily manipulated!” She tossed her head, turning her back on him. “Your threats mean nothing, Lord Winchester, although I shall ensure that St. Leger knows every single word that you have said. Good day.”

  She walked quickly away from him, half expecting to feel his tight grip on her shoulder as she made her way to the Crestwick townhouse, but none came. Her breathing was quick and fast but she kept her back straight and head high as she climbed the steps, refusing to rush forward. As much as she did not want to admit it, she was a little afraid of Lord Winchester and what he had threatened. To have admitted to being the one to hurt Jacob yesterday at the Park was more than astonishing, although she felt angry that she had not even noticed him walking by. But, then again, the Park had been very crowded.

  The door opened and within a few minutes, Arabella found herself and her maid ushered into the library, where Jacob was sitting by the fire, his leg stretched out on a stool in front of him. His sister, Sara, was also present and rose to greet Arabella, a bright smile on her face.

  “Do forgive me for not rising for you, Arabella,” Jacob said, as Arabella greeted Sara warmly. “I am under strict instructions to rest this old leg of mine.” He gave her a half smile and Arabella felt her heart sudden flutter at the handsomeness of his face. Why had it taken her so long to see it?

  “Please, sit,” Sara said, quickly, gesturing for Arabella to sit across from Jacob. “Shall I ring for tea?”

  “Yes, please,” Arabella replied, grateful for the seat. “I am a little shaken, I confess.”

  Jacob immediately looked concerned as Sara rose to ring the bell. “Shaken?” he repeated, in a gruff tone. “Why is that? What has occurred?”

  Arabella quickly explained what had passed between herself and Lord Winchester, noting that her maid had seen the entire thing, and saw Jacob’s gaze grow dark, his brows lowering over his eyes. Briefly, Arabella stated that Lord Winchester was furious over her crying off and was more than determined to force Arabella to return to him, as he expected. With a glance at Sara, she stated that Lord Winchester was determined to have her obey his demands and would do all he could to force her to behave as he expected. At one point in her explanations, Arabella heard Sara gasp before covering her mouth with her hand, as horrified as Arabella had been that Lord Winchester would have done such a terrible thing as to deliberately trip a man who was crippled.

  Arabella, however, chose to omit the true depth of the reason for Lord Winchester doing such a thing, knowing that she could not speak freely whilst Sara was in the room. She saw, however, that Jacob was already fully aware of why the gentleman had chosen such a course of action, and also saw that he was more than furious about it.

  “Lord Winchester is quite determined then,” Sara whispered, once Arabella had finished. “What else will he do? Whom else might he attempt to injure in order to force your hand?”

  Arabella shook her head, suddenly feeling a wave of fear crashing over her. “I do not know,” she said, a trifle hoarsely. “But what I do know is that I cannot do as he demands, simply because he demands it. To do so would be unthinkable.”

  Sara nodded. “But of course,” she said, quickly, spreading her hands. “But how can you protect yourself and those you love?”

  Sending a helpless look towards Jacob and feeling as though she was floundering terribly, Arabella sat back in her chair and sighed, the reality of what could be facing her beginning to come to light. “I do not know,” she admitted, truthfully. “Lord Winchester is not the sort of gentleman, it seems, who will allow himself to be rejected in any way.”

  “I suppose I could marry him,” Sara quipped, a small smile playing around her mouth as Jacob opened his mouth to argue, only to see that she was teasing. “The only other thing to do is to ensure that you are on your guard, Arabella.”

  “Indeed,” Arabella sighed, rubbing the spot between her brows, and feeling a dull ache already forming between them. It was just as well that she was with friends and able to speak and act as she felt, for to try to contain such things, she was sure, would be quite impossible. “But I fear for what he might do, given that he has already tried and succeeded in his attempt to injure you further, Jacob. What will he do now that I am continuing to refuse him?”

  Jacob’s frown was dark. “You cannot allow him the victory in this, my dear. You must stand firm and not allow his dark threats to delve into your mind.”

  She held his gaze, her stomach tightening. “But I could not forgive myself if anything was to happen to you, Jacob. Especially if I could have prevented it.”

  There was a short, weighty silence. Arabella could do nothing but look at Jacob, feeling his gaze penetrating her very soul. The moment was growing heavy with a sense of anticipation, broken suddenly by the sound of Sara clearing her throat. She rose to her feet, her skirts swirling about her.

  “I must go and find out where that tea tray has gone to,” she stated, walking swiftly towards the door. “I will not be more than a few minutes.” She shot her brother a sharp look, gave Arabella a quick smile and then left the room, leaving the door ajar.

  Arabella’s breath hitched the very moment that Sara’s footsteps died away. For whatever reason, she felt as though she could not look at Jacob, feeling her heart pounding wildly with a furious freedom that had her almost desperate to purge herself of all that she held within.

  “Arabella.”

  Jacob’s voice was low, sending a tremor through her.

  “Yes?” Slowly, hesitantly, she directed her gaze back towards him, almost feeling the air grow thick between them. What she saw in his eyes stole her breath from her, feeling her own heart wrench at what could have been so long ago.

  “I do not want to wait a moment longer,” he said, attempting to lift his leg from the stool upon where it rested, his face twisting in pain. “I must know.”

  She rose at once, hurrying over to him so that he would not have to stand. “Stay, Jacob. I am here.”

  Reaching for her hand, Jacob looked up at her. “I must know what I mean to you, Arabella,” he breathed, settling back into his chair. “I have found myself in such a place of torment these past years that I can hardly stand to know whether or not I shall have to return there.”

  Her heart ached, sending waves of pain all through her. “Pray, do not speak of my foolishness to me,
Jacob,” she begged, feeling truly awful as she recalled how she had laughed at his honestly spoken words so long ago. “I made such a mistake that I cannot think of it without pain.” Looking down at him, tears burning in her eyes, she rested one hand gently against his cheek. “I would have us both healed from our wounds, Jacob.”

  Fire burned in his gaze.

  “I love you,” she said, simply. “It has taken me much too long to own it but I will say it to you now and again and again, should you wish it. I will say it each and every hour for however long it takes for you to believe me. I love you, Jacob. That is why I ended my engagement to the Earl of Winchester. I could not go forward when I knew my heart was yours.”

  His expression softened. “And what will you do if I tell you that I cannot return your affection?”

  The words were gently spoken but to Arabella, they were like fiery darts that burned into her soul.

  “Then,” she replied, after taking a moment to swallow the lump in her throat. “Then, I shall accept your words and become nothing more than a spinster. A companion, perhaps, one day, or a fond maiden aunt. I will never allow myself to marry another.”

  Jacob shook his head, his eyes lowering for a moment, Arabella held her breath, suddenly a little uncertain over what it was that Jacob was thinking and feeling. Was he to turn his back on her now? Had he been unable to forgive her, despite appearances?

  “You truly have that depth of an affection for me, Arabella?” he asked, eventually, his eyes fastening onto hers. “Even though I have been cruel to you?”

  Tears fell onto her cheeks, her chest heaving. “I cannot hold that against you, Jacob, not after my own stupidity,” she cried, not even stopping to dab away her tears. “The day I turned away from you, the day I thought you to be jesting, that has become the most rued day of my entire existence. I have prayed and begged and pleaded to God above for a chance to redeem myself with you, to at least explain and to be forgiven for my foolishness. Anything else is more than I deserve. I shall spend each day trying to show you the truth of what I feel, Jacob, if I am but given the opportunity.”