Authors: Rhonda Woodward
“Good morning, Arabella. Please forgive my lack of a neckcloth.” He gestured to his sling ruefully. “I still find it difficult to tie the blasted thing.”
“Not at all.” Bella waved away his concern. “You should know by now how informal we are. Please sit down.” She gestured to the dining table. “I am about to make us all breakfast. Would you like to start with a cup of chocolate and toast, your grace?”
“If you will join me.” He smiled lazily at her and seated himself at the table.
He looked much better this morning than he had when they had returned to the cottage last night, Bella observed as she poured the chocolate into her late mother’s delicate cups. Last eve, after she had helped him to his room and assisted him in removing his boots, he had lain back on the bed and had been asleep almost before his head had reached the pillow. She had shaken her head over his stubborn unwillingness to heed her warning that he was attempting too much, too soon.
“Papa and Tommy must have returned from the Park very late last night. I did not even hear them come in,” Bella told the duke, more to make conversation than anything else, for something about the expression in his gray eyes was making her exceedingly nervous.
She could not explain her own feelings at this moment. She had spent hours upon hours alone with the duke, she reminded herself, and in much more intimate circumstances than sharing toast and chocolate.
Yet her heart still fluttered. She felt a flush rising to her cheeks and did not know where to look. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her now that caused her to view him so differently. Or was it the way he had looked at her over the candles last evening? She recalled how his gaze had swept her from head to toe before they had gone into dinner.
Rather desperately, she reminded herself that he was only trying to stave off his growing boredom. She reminded herself that he must want to return to his ladies in atriums.
“What is it, Bella?” the duke asked quietly.
Bella almost jumped out of her chair at the sound of his deep voice. “Nothing,” she said a little breathlessly.
Westlake shifted to a more comfortable position in the chair, leaned back, and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I have come to know a little of your character, Arabella. Something is disturbing you.”
For one wild moment Bella almost said,
You.
Desperately, her mind searched for a way to change the subject.
“I must get Papa and Tommy up. It is unlike them to sleep so late,” she said in a rush before jumping up and heading down the hallway to the staircase. After receiving
no response to her knock at her father’s door, Bella opened the door and poked her head in.
“Papa?”
Opening the door all the way, Bella stepped into the room and immediately noticed the perfectly made bed. She stood stock-still as her eyes scanned the room. “What on earth?” She turned and left the room, a puzzled expression on her face.
As she was making her way down the hall to Tommy’s room, she heard a knock at the front door and wondered if Papa and Tommy had risen very early and were now returning home. But they wouldn’t knock, she thought, dismissing the notion.
Her mind searched for some logical reason for the unslept-in bed.
She went back downstairs and found the duke had answered the knock and was now standing in the middle of the room with Robert Fortiscue.
“Mr. Fortiscue,” Bella said in surprise.
The gentleman doffed his brown beaverskin hat and stared at the duke’s bare neck.
Bella crossed the room to stand next to Westlake, and continued to look at Robert with a questioning look on her face.
Mr. Fortiscue switched his assessment of the duke to Bella’s unbound locks.
“Miss Tichley!” Mr. Fortiscue said, placing a hand on his hip. “I take leave to tell you how shocked I am at your behavior. This is outside the bounds of all decency.”
A dreadful feeling washed over Bella as Mr. Fortiscue’s harsh words and expression of contempt began to sink in. Papa and Tommy must not have come home from Penninghurst Park last night, she surmised. How could this have happened? And how could Robert know? Her mind raced to solve this terrible puzzle.
Mabry Green was a small village, and she knew very well that news, especially gossip, traveled quickly. She also knew that the housekeeper at Penninghurst Park was the sister of the butler at Oakdale.
That’s it!
Bella thought in horror as she made the connection.
What on earth could have prevented her father and Tommy from coming home last night? she wondered desperately.
“And you,
your grace,”
Mr. Fortiscue continued shrilly. “A man in your position, taking advantage of—”
“Stop your idiotic prattling, you jackanapes.” The duke’s icy tone stopped Mr. Fortiscue midsentence.
“Oh, your grace,” Bella choked out, turning to the duke. “A terrible misunderstanding has occurred. My father and brother did not return home from Penninghurst Park last night.”
“The devil you say,” the duke said.
Bella saw the astonishment in his eyes as he bit out the words.
“Do not play coy.” Mr. Fortiscue’s voice had grown even more shrill as he turned on Bella. “To think that I ever considered you suitable to take my mother’s place at Oakdale.”
“Get out.” The duke barked the order at the blustering gentleman.
“How dare you speak to me so, when you are grievously beyond the pale!” Robert put his hand dramatically to his chest.
“Get out before you find yourself on your backside in the drive.” The duke took a threatening step toward the blond man.
Gasping, Mr. Fortiscue widened his eyes in fear. With one last outraged sputter, he turned on his heel and practically ran from the room, leaving the front door open.
A moment later Bella and the duke heard his horse leaving at a fast trot. She sank down on the settee, her mind reeling from the possible ramifications they were facing.
The duke sat down in a chair opposite Bella and looked at her intently.
“Am I to understand that we have spent the night without anyone else in this house?” he asked her quietly.
“It appears so,” Bella said helplessly.
“And how would Mr. Fortiscue be privy to this information?”
Bella explained the connection between the housekeeper at Penninghurst Park and the butler at Oakdale.
Nodding, the duke said, “I am quite familiar with how servants can gossip.”
Bella agreed, and they both fell into silence for some minutes, while Bella tried to recover from the shock of Robert’s attack.
“Your father will be home soon,” the duke continued after some thought.
Bella felt a bubble of hysterical laugher rising in her throat. How could he be so calm? she wondered. This was beyond horrible. Within the hour, she knew, the entire village would be apprised of the shocking fact that Miss Arabella Tichley and the Duke of Westlake had spent the night quite alone.
Of course, she also knew it would not matter to the village gossips that the event was completely innocent.
“Arabella.”
Bella’s head went up at the sound of her sharply spoken name, and she looked at the duke with anxiety-filled eyes.
“No matter what happens today, I want you to know that everything will be all right,” he told her.
Bella was too distraught to take in his words.
At the sound of fast-approaching hooves, Bella jumped up from the settee and rushed to the window.
“It is my papa and my uncle,” Bella informed the duke in growing alarm. “How could this have happened?” She practically groaned the question.
Suddenly galvanized into action by panic, she turned and looked at the duke sitting in his shirtsleeves. “I’ll get your neckcloth and jacket! I’ll put my hair up,” she said in sudden inspiration. “Get up! We can’t be seen lounging,” she said as she moved across the room with frantic movements.
The duke remained seated. As she passed by his chair, he reached out and put a restraining hand on her arm. “Arabella, it is too late. We have done nothing wrong, but that does not matter under the circumstances.”
Bella looked down at the duke’s hand on her arm as she listened to his words. “What are you saying? Of course it matters. We will talk with Papa and Uncle, and all will be explained. There will be gossip in the village because of Robert, but that does not signify.”
The duke did not respond and only gave her a slight, enigmatic smile.
Bella sat down again, feeling as if it took an eternity for her father and uncle to cross the last few yards of the drive.
Her father was the first to enter, and she immediately saw that he had again forgotten his hat. He strode quickly into the middle of the room shouting her name.
“I am here, Papa,” Bella said quietly from her chair.
Her father turned to her, and Bella saw an expression on his face that she had never seen before. It was a combination of anger, disappointment, and deep concern.
Bella rose slowly, and so did the duke.
“His grace and I have just discovered that you and Tommy did not return last night. Was something amiss?” she asked, deciding to take the initiative.
The duke, standing next to Bella, looked at her with admiration at her willingness to try to brazen the whole thing out.
Uncle David entered then, and Bella saw that his expression was as grim as her father’s.
“We thought that the duke stayed at the Park last night,” her father informed her in a flat tone.
“But why? Triss knew we were returning to the cottage. She said she would make our apologies to my aunt and uncle, and send you and Tommy home later.”
“We will talk about Triss another time,” her father replied. “The fact of the matter is that Tommy and I were at the Park and you and the duke were here.”
“I want you to know, Mr. Tichley, that nothing remotely improper occurred here last night,” the duke broke in, his tone firm.
“Thank you, your grace.” Alfred Tichley inclined his head briefly to the younger man.
Bella let out a sigh of relief at her father’s acceptance of the truth.
“But you know as well as I do, your grace, that this is very serious business,” her father continued.
From the corner of her eye, Bella saw the duke incline his head in agreement. Bella looked at her father in renewed alarm.
“Yes, Papa,” Bella said quickly. “But no harm has been done.”
“No harm!” Alfred and his brother shouted in unison.
Uncle David stepped forward when it became obvious that his brother was at a loss for words.
“Arabella, we as a family have always spoken plainly to each other. And I will speak plainly now.” He paused to look at the duke briefly for a moment, and then turned back to his niece. “You are ruined. In a matter of days your name will be a byword for all that is unsavory.”
Bella stared at her uncle in stunned silence, almost unable to comprehend the ugliness of his words. “Oh, no, Uncle,” she was finally able to choke out. “Surely that is an exaggeration. Everyone in Mabry Green knows me. Everyone knows I would never do anything sordid.”
Her father regained his voice and threw up his hands before starting to pace the room. “Bella, shortly it will be known throughout the county that you spent the night with a rakehell of the first consequence. No offense, your grace,” her father bit out to the duke.
“None taken, Mr. Tichley,” the duke stated quietly, with a slight inclination of his head.
Bella was peripherally aware that since her father and uncle had started speaking, the duke had not taken his eyes from her face.
She cast a quick glance at him and saw his formidable expression. Her heart began to beat even faster. “But Papa, I don’t care what anyone says. I know the truth.”
Her father stopped his pacing for a moment to point his finger at her angrily.
“Of course you care. Think, Bella. From this moment on no one will receive you. How will you bear the whispers when you venture to the lending library?” He laughed bitterly, and continued. “Do you recall all the offers I have rejected on your behalf? Do you not think those families will gloat at your downfall? This kind of scandal is never forgotten. You shall be shunned and despised.”
As hard as she tried, Bella could not prevent the tears from coming to her eyes and spilling over at her father’s harsh words. “Papa, please,” she said, as she began to cry.
“Mr. Tichley, it is time to call on the vicar,” the duke broke in with a note of quiet authority. “I shall arrange for
a special license, which will naturally take a few days. The nuptials can take place Friday morning.”
Bella turned to stare at the duke in complete shock. She seriously doubted that she had heard him correctly.
“We shall be ready on Friday, your grace.” Bella saw her father’s expression change to grim satisfaction. “Bella, you will return to the Park with your uncle until the ceremony. Your aunt will attend you.”
“No, Papa, wait,” Bella said desperately, raising her hands in supplication. “This is ridiculous. There has been a miscommunication and nothing more! Your grace”—she turned pleading eyes to the duke—“you cannot be serious. You must see how preposterous this whole notion is. This is unnecessary.”
“On the contrary, Miss Tichley. It is very necessary,” the duke said in a deep, decisive tone.
“I
t is time, Bella,” Aunt Elizabeth said quietly to her niece.
Seated at a dressing table, Bella lifted her head and looked at her aunt with anxiety-filled yet tearless eyes.
Without saying a word, or even glancing at herself in the mirror, Bella rose and followed Aunt Elizabeth out of the pretty blue-and-cream bedchamber she had been occupying for the last four nights.
The two women silently made their way through the long hall, down the staircase, and across the foyer to the front door.
Lady Penninghurst looked at her niece with a great deal of worry evident on her patrician features. “Wait, Bella.” Aunt Elizabeth put a hand on Bella’s arm as the solemn girl was about to descend the wide steps leading to the graveled circular drive.
Bella paused, and looked questioningly at her aunt.