by Golden Angel
Of course he did not mean any disrespect to her brother. He could imagine it was much more difficult to properly discipline a sister who was of an age with oneself. Arabella was younger than Isaac, but she was definitely a full-grown woman. However, he would have no compunction about spanking her like a child if she were to act like one.
In fact, he would rather enjoy it.
While he’d indulged in some exotic play with some of his lovers, he’d never had the occasion to actually discipline a woman. He hadn’t wanted to have to discipline his wife, but with Arabella… her behavior had grated on him for so long that there was a certain amount of satisfaction in the thought of correcting her.
“Very well,” he said formally. Strangely, something tense inside of him relaxed, as if he’d been anxious over her answer. But, if she’d turned him down he wouldn’t have lost anything. He would still have behaved in the correct manner and no one would have faulted him for her decision… yet he still felt oddly relieved. Thomas didn’t examine his feelings too closely.
The light of amusement in her eyes grew brighter as she studied him, prodding at his temper. For once he wanted to do the unexpected, to set her off balance.
Now that she’d accepted his proposal, he was allowed certain liberties after all. Not to mention, he still felt more than a little curious about Isaac’s assertion that Arabella had a preference for him. He didn’t think it possible… but since the question had been raised in his mind he couldn’t push it away.
Stepping forward, he was gratified to see her eyes widen in surprise, although—being Arabella—she held her ground as he stalked up to her. She let out a squeak of alarm as, rather than looming over her, he suddenly snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him.
Those perfect, pink lips parted in surprise, consternation and shock flitting across her face, and a smug, male satisfaction filled Thomas’ chest where it was pressed against her soft bosoms. He lowered his mouth to hers, this time kissing her.
Intentionally.
Thoroughly.
With her lips already parted it wasn’t difficult to press his advance, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and tasting her. Honey. Mint. Feminine curves wriggled delightfully against him before settling.
He could practically feel her surprise melting away as she leaned into him, kissing him back with interest. Even if she didn’t have a preference for him, there was certainly passion aplenty between them. Perhaps the sparks of irritation they always seemed to set off against each other had been somehow transmuted to the sparks of desire instead…
Blood rushed to his groin as he deepened the kiss, her hands pressed against his chest, clinging to his jacket. A groan made its way up his throat as he slid one hand down her back to the curve of her bottom. She gasped as he caressed the soft mound, her body arching forward in surprise at the unexpected touch and making her rub herself against his cock.
Thomas was so engrossed in the unexpected passion that had welled up inside of him, he almost shouted with surprise when her brother loudly cleared his throat.
Embarrassed heat flushed Thomas’ cheeks as he pulled away from Arabella’s lithe form, feeling more than a little reluctance to do so. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, cheeks just as hot as his, hazel eyes bright and glassy, and she nearly stumbled without him holding her up. Immediately, Thomas reached out to right her, and then snatched his hands back as soon as she was steady, all the while Isaac looked on.
“Well,” Isaac drawled. “I sincerely hope that was the aftermath of an accepted proposal.”
Chapter 5
One week to plan a wedding befitting the sister of a Duke.
The date was chosen so it could be held before the Season ended. The 'befitting the sister of a Duke' part was at Thomas' behest.
"Why must it be a large production?" Arabella asked. Not that she was opposed to a big to-do on principle, but she felt like being contrary. Especially because she had a feeling Thomas' desire for a large and ostentatious ceremony at St. George's had more to do with how Society would view their marriage than anything else.
He glared at her from across the table, but his mother—who was sitting beside him—placed a restraining hand on his.
Their engagement dinner, which was select, consisted of both of their immediate families and that was it. As engagement dinners went, it was tiny. The ball which would follow wasn't much larger, only about one hundred people. Arabella knew that would only increase the ton's interest and desire for a wedding invitation, but she didn't particularly care what they wanted either.
The Viscount sat at the head of the table, listening to everything but rarely speaking up, while his wife occupied the seat opposite him at the foot. Spread around the table were Thomas and his brothers, his cousin Mary, Gabrielle, and Arabella's brothers and sisters-in-law. The dinner would have been larger, but with the short time period to plan they'd decided to make the most of it and not invite anyone outside of the family, so they could use tonight to discuss the wedding and begin setting plans into motion on the morrow.
Considering they'd just become engaged last night, matters were proceeding very quickly.
"Would you prefer something on a smaller scale?" Viscountess Hood asked gently. Arabella immediately felt a bit guilty as she saw the disappointment the older woman tried to hide.
There hadn't been time for the Viscount and Viscountess to attend the wedding of their youngest son to Gabrielle, as they had been on their estates when the scandal which precipitated that marriage had occurred. As Walter, the middle brother, didn't look to have any interest in marrying any time soon—he was obviously enjoying his time as a gentleman rake—and this was the wedding for their oldest son and heir...
"I don't mind a large wedding," Arabella said, smiling reassuringly at the Viscountess, whom she'd always liked. "It just seems to me that Thomas is requesting quite a bit when it is us ladies who will have to plan it."
"It will be a challenge, but I look forward to it," the Viscountess responded, perking up at Arabella's reassurance. Beside her, Thomas' glower deepened, his gaze like daggers across the table at Arabella, making her feel even more cheery. She was pleasing her future mother-in-law and annoying her future husband simultaneously, both of which gave her great satisfaction.
"A large production will also satisfy the old tabbies," Benedict pointed out, smirking. "So far neither of our families has been wedded with all the due pomp and circumstance, which has left them feeling rather put out."
Isaac and Lydia’s wedding had been a quick, private affair at the house party where their own ‘scandalous’ interlude had necessitated a wedding. Benedict had kidnapped Christina and they’d eloped to Gretna Green. Although, as the third son of a viscount, Felix's wedding was not to the same scale as either of theirs, Gabrielle had been the ward of a Marquess and their wedding had been just as select as Thomas and Arabella's engagement dinner this evening.
The rest of Society was likely feeling very left out.
Lydia sent him a repressive look before turning toward Arabella. "Elizabeth is correct, I believe we are up to the challenge. Especially because we have other friends who will be all too happy to help."
From across the table, Gabrielle caught Arabella's eye and winked at her. They did have a rather large group of close friends who would be all too happy to step in and see Arabella wed. She was the last of the ladies in their inner circle to land a husband, as most of them had already been married when Gabrielle and Arabella had met them. They'd be thrilled to finally include Arabella fully in their number.
Considering the talks they'd already had in Arabella's presence, she couldn't wait to find out exactly what they'd been holding back from her delicate, virginal ears.
******
All in all, Thomas couldn't really complain about Arabella's behavior during their engagement dinner and ball even though part of him wanted to.
She was sweet, charming, effusively welcoming... to everyone except him. Yet
even when she was being contrary with him, she had a glib response for why she was being so. Certainly no one else saw anything suspicious in her behavior.
It was exactly what he had wanted... wasn't it? Standing by his side at the head of the receiving line she accepted all the congratulations, ignored the few slyly biting or malicious remarks from a few members of Society who had to be invited but were not actually close friends, and was every inch a perfect young lady.
So why did he feel rubbed so raw by the time they were descending the staircase into the ballroom?
Why did he feel so wary?
Part of him felt as though he should be reassured. Obviously, she'd just needed a stern talk, perhaps the realization that her antics would no longer be tolerated had had the desired effect without any discipline actually being necessary.
Another part of him felt like he was walking into a trap.
The simpering smile on her face as he swung her around to face him in the middle of the dance floor—their engagement waltz would begin the dancing—made her look utterly unlike herself. His suspicion deepened.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low as he gently placed his hand on her waist. The gesture was reminiscent of last night when he'd kissed her, and his body responded immediately. He was far too aware of the shushing of her skirts between her thighs as they moved so closely to his, her following his lead through the spinning circles of the dance.
"Doing?" she asked, far too innocently. Long lashes fluttered, masking some of the amusement in her eyes. "Do you have some issue with my behavior this evening, my lord?"
"Don't call me 'my lord'," he growled, doing his best to keep his own expression blank. With every eye in the ballroom on them, he didn't want there to be gossip that he and Arabella were already arguing... during their engagement waltz no less. "You've never called me anything but Thomas, even though I never gave you leave to use my Christian name."
The smile on her face altered slightly, becoming much more real than the simpering one she'd worn before. It was a very slight change, but immediately she looked more like Arabella—impishly mischievous—and, strangely, Thomas felt more relaxed.
"I suppose it's a bit late for you to argue the point now," she said, giggling slightly, and he couldn't help but smile back at her even though he knew he shouldn't encourage her.
Still, smiling at her as she giggled up at him was much better than the false front she'd been putting on while he glowered at her. Tonight those present would note their expressions, and the tale they told tomorrow would be colored by Thomas and Arabella's demeanor. Whirling Arabella through the ballroom, he could already see Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper whispering as they watched.
A few more measures passed, and then the dance was over. Thomas bowed over Arabella's hand as she curtsied and they quit the floor, the musicians already readying themselves for the next piece of music. A smiling Isaac took Arabella's hand and led her back out, they were quickly followed by Benedict and Christina among other couples.
Standing next to Lydia, Thomas bowed and held out his hand. "Your grace, would you like to dance?"
Lydia reached out and touched his fingers with hers before pulling them away, a polite rejection. "No, thank you, Thomas. I'm a trifle under the weather, so I don't plan on dancing this evening. I am content to watch. However, you should not feel as though you must restrict yourself if you'd like to find another partner."
"I am content to watch as well," he said, taking up a position beside her so they could both observe the dancers but also carry on a conversation. He certainly wasn't going to abandon his soon-to-be sister-in-law. The only other women he might be interested in dancing with, mostly the wives of his friends, were already on the floor with other partners. "I'd like to apologize if the preparations for the wedding become unduly stressful. It's true I do not fully comprehend the amount of work which goes into planning such events."
Other than providing his side of the guest list and a budget, Thomas didn't think his own father had ever had much hand in the balls their mother hosted. That was just how things were—a woman's sphere was in her home and the man's was outside of it. The women would take umbrage at a man trying to insert himself into the planning. However, he did realize that his mother usually took quite a bit more time planning than a mere week for events which were smaller in scale than the upcoming wedding.
"Oh, I'm sure we'll put you gentlemen to work when we need assistance," Lydia said cheerfully. "I do hope your penmanship is better than Isaac's. He's certainly not going to be any help with invitations. However, as he's prepared to throw huge piles of money to get everything done in a timely fashion, I can't really complain."
Thomas shifted slightly. It was the bride's family's responsibility to pay for the wedding, but he'd still been a bit uncomfortable with the amounts thrown around during their initial planning session. The fact that Isaac hadn't batted an eye at the staggering cost had only further served to drive home the difference between a duke and a viscount in Thomas' mind.
Fortunately, Arabella had never seemed particularly acquisitive when it came to material things. Then again, she might just take such things for granted.
Once again he wondered if he truly knew what he was getting into... but it was too late to change course now.
"Yes, Isaac is being very generous," he said, trying not to show how that vast generosity weighed on him. His insecurities were not Lydia's problem.
The smile which curved Lydia's lips as she looked across the floor at her husband and sister-in-law was more than a little amused. "Between you and me, I believe he sees this wedding as a celebration for himself as well... from then on, Arabella will no longer be his problem. Of course, I don't think he realizes quite yet that his feelings of responsibility aren't going to disappear overnight."
"Is that how you still feel about your sister?" he asked, well aware that Lydia had stood in loco parentis to her sister after her mother had passed away. Because of Felix's closeness with the family, Thomas was also privy to the information that Lydia's step-father was committed to an asylum after he'd run mad, effectively rendering herself and her sister orphans.
"Oh yes," Lydia replied with feeling. Even though she'd been looking at Isaac, her gaze unerringly sought out the blonde hair of her sister on the other side of the dance floor, as if she'd sensed where the younger woman was. "Fortunately, Amy's very happy in her new life. Being Mrs. Tilding suits her admirably."
"That is—" Thomas had been about to say good, but he'd turned back to look towards Isaac and Arabella as the music was ending and his sentence cut off in the shock of seeing Hartford now bowing over Arabella's hand.
He'd been invited, of course, although Thomas hadn't actually expected the man to appear. Someone who cared as little about what Society thought of him as Hartford did... well, certainly no one would have thought worse of him for not showing. His presence did send a message though, which was why he'd been invited in the first place.
Everyone knew he'd been formally courting Arabella. They also knew he'd been... elsewhere... the night she'd been compromised by Thomas. If anyone was hoping for high dramatics or even a duel, his presence at the intimate gathering which was their engagement ball would quell all such thoughts. Just as a large wedding showed the families' support of the marriage, so did Hartford's presence at such a select gathering celebrating the upcoming nuptials.
Still, the man had some nerve coming late enough that he'd missed the receiving line, hadn't been formally announced, and was now claiming Arabella's next dance without even acknowledging Thomas. Something dark and unhappy curled in Thomas' breast as Isaac parted ways with the couple and Arabella took her place for the next dance with her former suitor.
Yes, it would send the right message to everyone gathered here, and yet for some reason it was very difficult to watch. Even more difficult to keep his expression mild.
A feminine hand on his arm finally pulled his gaze away.
"Don't worry,"
Lydia murmured, looking up at him with sympathy in her eyes. "Arabella never felt anything more than friendship for Hartford. You have nothing to worry about."
"I wasn't worried," he denied immediately, trying to push the emotion away even as it ate away at the inside of his chest. Lydia just smiled at him as Isaac neared.
"Of course you weren't."
******
Dancing with Hartford was always enjoyable, but after having waltzed with Thomas for the very first time in her life, it was not nearly as exciting as it used to be. Despite his good looks, charm, and much more amenable personality, Hartford just didn't engender the same excitement for Arabella as Thomas did. Which was rather galling.
She was going to have to closely guard her heart, something she wouldn't have had to do if she'd married Hartford.
Not that she regretted her impulsive actions the night before.
"I leave you alone for one night..." Hartford said, tutting and shaking his head. He wasn't truly upset though, she could tell. If anything, as always, he was amused by the trouble she'd gotten herself into.
Arabella smiled up at him. "I discovered that perhaps I'm not quite as good at being an understanding wife as a I thought I could be."
"Well it's unlikely Hood will be the type to go searching for wider liaisons, so you're certainly safe on that count now," Hartford said, his amber eyes twinkling down at her. "However, I do believe you're going to miss out on a great deal of fun."
He whirled her around, circling, and making her laugh as they nearly careened into another couple. With his sure steps, Hartford could dance her right on the edge of causing a scene and then catch them both away. Thomas certainly had the control and grace to do so as well, but he never would.
"I'll still have fun," she countered. "Perhaps a different kind... but I'm not sure how well I would have fit into your world. You should find a nice social-climber who wants nothing but your title and won't care what else you do as long as she has that."
Especially since it was unlikely such a woman would come from a family and circle where love matches were the norm. If Arabella had been any other duke's sister, or daughter, no one would have thought twice about her making a loveless match. It was only because her family and friends were full of acknowledged reformed rakes and love matches that everyone had looked at her with pity. A wife who wanted nothing more than his title wouldn't be bothered by other women's sly remarks either, as she would already have what she cared about.