by Rose Pearson
Walking slowly along the street and praying that a hackney would soon materialise, Jacob let his mind fill with thoughts of Lord Winchester and what it was he had been attempting to do. A victorious smile settled on his face as he wandered through the gloom, realising that his friendship with Lord Halesworthy was stronger than even he himself had known. Lord Winchester was, as far as Jacob could see, attempting to shatter the friendship that was between them, and perhaps even ruin Miss Halesworthy in some way, although Jacob prayed that he had said enough to Lord Halesworthy to prevent that particular course of action. If this was what Lord Winchester had threatened, then he was falling far short of the mark. Jacob was not about to lie down and allow Lord Winchester to run roughshod over him. He would fight back in whatever way he had to, in order to protect those who he considered his friends.
“You are out rather late this evening.”
A thrill of surprise ran up Jacob’s spine, his lungs tightening for a moment.
“I am just returning home,” he said, crisply, turning around to face Lord Winchester. “Although I am surprised to see you out also. Are you not meant to be preparing yourself to court Miss Halesworthy tomorrow?” Jacob arched an eyebrow, seeing Lord Winchester’s expression change from smugness to frustration. “I do not think that such a thing will be possible much longer.”
Lord Winchester narrowed his eyes. “You have no right to keep Lady Arabella from me.”
“This is not about Lady Arabella,” Jacob replied, evenly, refusing to allow his anger to show. “This is to do with your own pride and selfish ambition, Winchester. You cannot allow her to do as she wishes, for you expect her to behave as you want.” He shook his head, feeling something like pity for the gentleman in front of him. “Arabella is not that way inclined, as I am quite certain you have understood by now. She is not easily cowed, she is not easily led. She saw the truth of your character and turned away from it. And now she has chosen me.”
Inwardly, Jacob winced, realising that he had let slip something that he ought to have kept to himself. He did not say anything more, however, feeling the words hanging in the air between himself and Lord Winchester and wondering silently what Lord Winchester intended to do with this news. Surely the gentleman had guessed that this was to be the outcome? Surely, he knew that Arabella would return to Jacob for her second chance, a chance that was not to be denied her?
“Lady Arabella was meant to be my bride,” Lord Winchester hissed, his hands slowly curving into fists. “She gave me her promise.”
“It was not a promise made before God and man,” Jacob retorted, anger spiralling up his spine. “Arabella was able to break it if she chose, and that is precisely what she has done. You must let go of your anger, Lord Winchester. It will do nothing but destroy you.”
Lord Winchester laughed, the sound shattering through the air and setting Jacob’s teeth on edge. He suddenly realised just how weak he was, standing before the able-bodied Lord Winchester, and felt a sudden frisson of fear. Setting his jaw, he sent such thoughts away almost at once, praying that a hackney would arrive so that he might find himself a place of refuge – if not a witness.
“You may be a Duke’s heir, but you know nothing of chivalry,” Lord Winchester said, scathingly. “You take what is mine and expect me to simply accept it? No, I shall not do so. Arabella will return to me.”
Jacob shook his head, wondering if the glint in the man’s eye was the beginnings of madness. “No, Lord Winchester,” he replied, quietly. “She will not.”
“I have warned her!” Lord Winchester exclaimed, spittle flying from his mouth. “And here I warn you. Leave her to me, St. Leger. Let her go, release her from whatever bond it is that you hold her with. Else it shall be the worse for you.”
His stomach twisted itself in knots as Jacob tried his best to contain his rage. “I hold Arabella with no bond,” he stated, firmly, praying that his temper would not flare out into violence. “She and I share a love that you can never understand, Lord Winchester. She will not be returned to you, as you so put it. She was never yours in the first place, just as she is not mine to claim. Lady Arabella knows her own mind and her own heart and she has given it to me, so that I might hold it carefully. I fully intend to do so.”
Lord Winchester leaned in, a wicked grin beginning to spread across his face. “At the expense of your friends?” he asked, softly. “Miss Halesworthy, for example?”
“Miss Halesworthy will be well protected by her brother,” Jacob replied, quickly. “You underestimate the bond of friendship that is between Lord Halesworthy and I, Lord Winchester.”
Lord Winchester did not appear to be in any way put out by this, however. His grin remained, his eyes dark.
“We shall see,” he replied, softly, his breath sour as he stepped closer to Jacob who felt himself flinch. Angry with his own reaction, Jacob squeezed his hands closed tight, forcing himself to remain standing steadily.
“For you will find that Miss Halesworthy is a lady easily persuaded,” Lord Winchester continued, darkly. “Despite your protest, despite the protests of her brother, she may find herself in a most scandalous situation.”
Jacob shook his head, his teeth gritting together. “You would not do such a thing, not simply to try to force my hand.”
Lord Winchester shrugged. “Do you not think, St. Leger, that you are, in fact, underestimating me a little? Do you not understand just how deep and just how strong my desire is for Lady Arabella?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards, leaving Jacob with the uncomfortable feeling that Lord Winchester was, in fact, edging towards madness.
“And what if I was to draw out your sister?”
Those words hit Jacob hard, forcing him to reel back. His leg crumpled underneath him and he staggered, his lungs screaming for air as he stared at Lord Winchester.
“Do not think that your sister is too wise, too kind or too sensible to be kept safely from my clutches,” Lord Winchester continued, with an air of one who knows he has found the victory. “Consider this your warning, St. Leger. Once I am finished with Miss Halesworthy, if I discover that you have not ended your… understanding with Lady Arabella, then I shall have no other choice but to pull your sister’s good name into a whirlwind of rumours and scandal and the like.” He threw back his head and laughed, as though he could not quite believe his own ingenuity. “She will not be able to hold her head up in society again!”
Jacob wanted to find something to say, wanted to find a way to take down Lord Winchester’s threats with ease, but found that he could not speak a single word. Lord Winchester had found the only thing that could have Jacob questioning what it was he ought to do, for his sister was more dear and precious to him than almost any other.
“Stay away from Miss Halesworthy,” he managed to say, still struggling to regain his footing. “And leave my sister out of your madness, Winchester. You shall not have what you seek.”
Lord Winchester shrugged, stepping back from Jacob and spreading his arms. “I think that is for you to decide, St. Leger,” he replied, in a sing song voice. “And as for Miss Halesworthy… things are already in motion far beyond your control. She is the warning, St. Leger. The warning of what I am capable of accomplishing, when I do not have what I seek. Send Lady Arabella back to me and all shall be well. And do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Else your sister will bear the consequences for the rest of her days.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Arabella?”
Arabella looked up at once, rising quickly as Jacob stepped into the drawing room. At once she noticed his cane, her brow furrowing as she hurried to greet him. He did not always use it, but on the days when it was present, she knew that he was struggling with his leg. This must be such a day.
“Come and sit down,” she urged, glad that her mother was not at home and would not burst into the drawing room with the intention of quizzing Jacob about the upcoming nuptials and just how and when they were to declare this to the ton. “You look quite don
e in, if I may say so!”
The playful note in her voice seemed to have no effect. Jacob’s eyes were heavy, his lips tugging downwards as he sank into a chair.
“I am more of a cripple today, I fear,” he muttered, as she sat by him. “I was out a little too late last evening and now I –”
“If you do not feel able to attend the ball this evening, then I quite understand,” Arabella interrupted quickly, not wanting him to feel in any way obliged. “You know that I quite understand.”
He frowned. “Ball?”
“Yes,” she said, brightly, getting up to ring for tea and smiling to herself at the sight of her maid who was, it seemed, sound asleep in the corner. On occasions such as these, she was quite glad to have the tired maid present, for it allowed herself and Jacob a degree of privacy she did not often experience.
“I fear I do not recall,” Jacob stated, his eyebrows lowering as his brow furrowed. “What ball?”
She smiled at him, although there was a twist of unease in her heart. “Lord Madeley,” she replied, wondering if she ought to find the invitation. “But as I said, you need not concern yourself with it. After all, it is still a sennight until we are to tell the ton of our engagement and I am quite able to attend without you, although I shall miss your company, of course.” Her smile was met by nothing more than a deepening frown, which added to her growing concern.
“No,” Jacob said, slowly, his words almost being dragged out from him. “I think I shall attend. Just as I planned.” Something in his expression cleared and he reached out to pat her hand. “I do apologise, my love. I am a little distracted, I know, but it is only because I have so much to consider.”
Trying to understand, Arabella patted his hand, a thrill running up her arm at the contact. “I understand, Jacob, truly. The wedding is bound to bring a good deal of attention with it. My mother is, as you know, quite overcome with it all and has still not managed to settle her mind thus far!” She laughed, her stomach tense as she took in Jacob’s firm gaze. His brown eyes seemed to darken as she watched him, wondering what it was that had turned him so serious.
“Do you think, mayhap, that we ought to wait another fortnight?”
His question sent her reeling, the smile fixed on her face as she stared at him.
“Even a sennight would do, I suppose,” he continued, evidently unaware of her shock. “As you say, your mother is still quite overcome and perhaps it would be best to wait for another short time.”
Pain lanced her heart.
“You wish to wait even longer before we announce our nuptials?” she asked, pressing one hand against her stomach as though she would somehow be able to soothe the growing agony deep within her. “But why?”
Jacob looked away, his expression one she could not quite make out. “I am just considering whether or not such a thing would be for the best,” he said, eventually, as Arabella struggled to keep her composure. This was not at all what she had expected him to say. “Your mother would appreciate it, I am sure, and it would give another week of calm and quiet to the whispers that are still circulating around you crying off from Lord Winchester.” His eyes flicked back to hers and then darted away again, leaving Arabella with the distinct impression that something more was troubling him, something he did not want to say.
“Jacob,” she replied, once she could trust her voice. “I do not understand. My mother will always be in a tizzy over this, no matter how much time we wait. As for the whispers, you know that they will rise like a crescendo all over again, once we announce our engagement. Why should we wait even longer for such a thing to occur, when we both know that it will occur regardless?” She forced herself to speak calmly, looking at him even though he could not quite hold her gaze. “I do not understand.” Her heart began to break apart, suddenly afraid that everything she had believed, everything she had trusted about his regard for her was suddenly going to be proved false.
Jacob sat forward and rubbed one hand down his face, making her stomach knot all over again. A long sigh escaped him, his expression wretched.
“You do not wish to marry me any longer?” she asked, her voice shaking as she spoke. “Pray, tell me it is not so!”
It was as though Jacob had been stung, for he shot to his feet at once, his face drained of colour. He swayed slightly, reaching for her, and Arabella went at once, without even a single moment of hesitation.
“How angry I am that I have made you think such a thing,” Jacob said, as his fingers twined with hers. He looked down into her face, his brown eyes filled with what she presumed was frustration. “I have no plans to remove myself from you, Arabella. You know that I love you. Tell me that you still believe it, that you do not think me a charlatan.”
Relief flooded her core. “Of course I believe you, Jacob,” she whispered, pressing one hand against his cheek. Her breathing was ragged, the fear of what she thought he had been saying only just beginning to ebb away. “Of course I trust you. I know that you love me. It is just that I cannot understand why you seek to have such a delay.” Searching his face, Arabella felt her stomach knot as she saw the sudden darkness in the depths of his eyes. Whatever was the matter?
“I am trying to please too many people, I suppose,” Jacob said, eventually, his gaze drifting from hers as he spoke. “I am doing all I can to make your difficulties with your mother a little easier.” His eyes met hers again, a small smile on playing about his mouth but Arabella saw that it did not quite meet his eyes. “Shall we not take another sennight, my dear Arabella? Your mother will be happier, will she not?”
“She will,” Arabella admitted, slowly, the words forcing themselves from her unwilling lips. “But I do not take her feelings into great consideration when it comes to our happiness, Jacob.” A small twist of guilt ran through her, making her question whether or not she was truly being fair to her mama. “I cannot bear to even consider being without you, Jacob.”
“I know, I know.” His voice was soothing, trying to comfort her. “But I do consider that a sennight would be for the best, Arabella.”
Holding his gaze, Arabella searched Jacob’s face, as though she might be able to discover the true reason behind his wish to delay. She could find nothing there, however, taking in his gentle smile and the sweetness of his eyes and finding them to be a balm to her pain in her heart.
“You will not want to delay again, after this sennight has passed?” she asked, slowly, never lifting her eyes from his. “You and I will not have this same conversation in only a few days’ time, I pray?”
Jacob winced, as though hurt that she had even thought to ask him such a thing. “No, indeed not,” he promised, his fingers tightening on hers. “I shall not ask you to delay again, my love. You have my word.”
Arabella sighed inwardly. She did not understand Jacob’s reasons for wanting to wait for another week, but she had been truthful when she had told him she trusted him. She believed that he loved her and therefore, if he wanted to delay for another sennight, then that was what she would accept.
“Very well,” she answered, seeing the relief jump into his expression almost at once and praying that she would not give into her doubts and fears. “I do not pretend to fully understand, Jacob, but I will do as you ask.”
“I thank you,” he murmured, pulling her a little closer so that he might wrap his arms around her waist. “You are most understanding, Arabella.” His lips brushed her cheek and Arabella shivered. “Never think that I do not wish to make you my wife.” Leaning back, he looked into her eyes, his expression serious. “I have nothing but that desire, Arabella. It fills me. It overwhelms me. It pains me to have to ask you to hold back from such an announcement for another week but yet I truly believe it will be for our good.”
Arabella nodded and managed to smile, feeling a good deal more reassured. “I trust you, Jacob,” she said again, her heart finally resuming a normal rhythm. “I love you. What is another sennight when we will have a lifetime together?”
�
��Indeed,” he agreed, smiling broadly now. “A lifetime of happiness to share, I hope. Thank you, Arabella. You are quite wonderful, you know.”
She laughed then. “So you have said a good many times, Jacob,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “If you continue to speak so then I shall have no choice but to believe you.”
He chuckled then bent his head to kiss her. As their lips met, Arabella felt a sigh of relief escape her. Jacob still loved her and he still wished to marry her. There was nothing else to be concerned about. A sennight would fly past and, within the month, they would be man and wife.
“Good evening, Lord Madeley.”
“Good evening.”
Arabella smiled as she rose from her curtsey, feeling her heart quicken as she walked alongside her mama into the crowd of guests. Lord Madeley’s small ballroom was very busy, although the air was not yet stale. Her sharp eyes took in the French doors on one side of the room that had already been thrown open. Apparently, Lord Madeley had not wanted his ballroom to become too much of a crush.
“Are you to dance with Lord Jacob this evening?”
Arabella looked up in surprise at her mother, who was smiling vaguely at someone over Arabella’s left shoulder.
“I do not know, mama,” she replied, slowly, her eyes narrowing just a little as she tried to make out her mother’s intention. “When I spoke to Jacob this afternoon, he appeared rather tired and I cannot be certain that he intended to attend this evening.”
Her mother sniffed lightly, her eyes finally landing on Arabella’s face. “I see,” she said, without any inflection in her voice. “I just thought that you would be announcing your engagement soon and I would like to be warned of when such a thing will occur.”