To Pleasure a Lady (17 page)

It was a lovely afternoon, cool from this morning's rain but with fleecy white clouds floating across the blue sky. They were starting early in order to make the nearly hour-long drive to London.

His coachmen drove them to collect Winifred, who settled beside Arabella with an approving glance. “Your gown is perfect, my dear, and that scent you are wearing is quite pleasant.”

Arabella returned a puzzled look, since she was not wearing any perfume.

“It must be the rose petals,” Marcus murmured provokingly.

“What rose petals?” the older lady asked.

“Never mind,” Arabella said quickly, giving him a quelling glance.

Otherwise, the evening began promisingly enough. Marcus's well-sprung carriage made the journey in relative ease, and from the moment they arrived at the elegant hotel, his party was treated like visiting royalty. They were led to a private parlor, where the staff leapt to anticipate his lordship's every wish and plied them with three delicious courses and a dozen removes. Lady Freemantle claimed to be highly impressed and expressed gratitude to Lord Danvers for the privilege of sharing his illustrious company.

When they arrived at Covent Garden two hours later, Arabella was even more grateful, since without him, she likely would have found the glittering crowd intimidating after four years of being shunned by their supercilious ranks.

The cream of society filled the upper tiers—the lords and gentlemen dressed in formal finery, the ladies dripping in satins and jewels. Since many of them had only come to see and be seen rather than to enjoy the play, the din was quite loud as Marcus escorted Arabella and Winifred upstairs.

His box, Arabella saw when they arrived, was already occupied by two ladies and two gentlemen, who all rose in greeting.

Marcus made the introductions, starting with his Aunt Beatrix, Lady Beldon. The tiny, silver-haired woman had curious bright eyes that reminded Arabella of an inquisitive bird. Without any prompting, Marcus's sister, Lady Eleanor, stepped forward. The raven-haired beauty wore diamonds threaded through her short curls and a smile of welcome as she clasped Arabella's hands warmly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Loring. My scoundrel of a brother has been keeping you a secret.” She sent Marcus a laughing glance. “He never mentioned a word about you until two days ago.”

“Because I didn't wish to frighten her off with your atrocious manners, minx,” Marcus said fondly.

“Pah,” Eleanor retorted. “She doesn't look the sort to be frightened by anything.”

Arabella couldn't help but smile. “At least not by manners. Not after attempting to teach them to scores of green girls for the past three years.”

Lady Beldon spoke for the first time. “Marcus told us something of your academy, Miss Loring. I should like to hear about it.”

“Certainly, my lady.”

Marcus then made known his close friends, the Duke of Arden and the Marquess of Claybourne.

The duke was darkly blond, his tall frame one of lithe elegance, while the marquess was nearly as tall but more powerfully built, his hair a tawny brown. They each responded to Arabella quite differently. Arden offered her a cool bow, but Claybourne was far more welcoming, flashing her a smile of amused charm that reminded her a little of Marcus.

Arabella could see why the three noblemen were the talk of London. They were all striking men, beautiful as sin yet utterly…
male
. It was no wonder females were attracted to them in droves. Certainly they drew the rapt attention of the crowded audience now. It seemed to Arabella as if every eye in the theater was trained on their box.

There were two rows of seats, but when Marcus started to guide Arabella to the nearest chair, his sister intervened.

“Please sit beside me, Miss Loring,” Lady Eleanor said. “We can become better acquainted…and perhaps compare stories about my brother's guardianship.”

Thus, the front row was occupied by the ladies; first Marcus's aunt, then his sister, then Arabella, and finally Winifred. When Marcus and his friends took the chairs directly behind, Arabella felt unusually exposed, especially when she spied a number of the audience whispering behind fans and pointing at Lord Danvers's party.

She soon realized they were gossiping about
her,
although it soothed her pride somewhat to realize she was receiving a few admiring looks of her own from several of the gentlemen.

Lady Eleanor noticed as well. “Don't pay them any mind, Miss Loring. You are merely their latest object of interest. It will blow over quickly.” She paused, giving her charming laugh. “At least it always does in my case when I commit some minor infraction.”

“Which is far too frequently,” Marcus said, leaning forward.

He had allowed ample time before the play started so they could become acquainted, and the initial conversation proved highly congenial. Eleanor managed to keep up a spirited dialogue while subtly interrogating Arabella about her and her family. But as Marcus had predicted, she found herself liking his sister, who on first impression seemed witty and lively with a wicked sense of fun.

She had less opportunity to converse with Marcus's friends, since they sat behind her. The marquess threw in a comment now and then, which was a marked contrast to the duke's conspicuous silence. Arabella had the distinct feeling his grace disapproved of her, although he unbent a little when Eleanor turned to tease him about his glumness. Apparently Arden had scant fondness for Shakespeare, and they were to see a performance of
Richard III
tonight, with one of London's greatest actors, John Kemble, playing the lead role.

It was while the duke was trading quips with Lady Eleanor that Arabella spied her friend Fanny Irwin entering a nearby box on an elderly gentleman's arm. Looking very much the “Fashionable Impure,” Fanny was gowned in emerald satin with her upswept ebony hair and her ample white bosom bedecked with jewels.

Fanny sent Arabella a discreet smile, which she returned just as discreetly. They had decided several years ago, for the sake of her academy's reputation, that it wasn't wise for Arabella to blatantly advertise her friendship with a notorious courtesan.

A few moments later, however, she noticed a red-haired lady staring darkly at her from several boxes away. The woman was simply stunning, dressed in an ivory gown whose low décolletage exposed an abundant amount of alabaster skin adorned by diamonds.

Arabella had no idea what she might have done to arouse such enmity from a perfect stranger, but she saw Lady Beldon give the beauty a polite nod of acknowledgment. Fortunately, the curtain rose, and Arabella's attention became caught up in the drama being enacted on stage.

Kemble's performance was truly a pleasure to watch, so the time sped by. At the intermission following Act II, Marcus and the duke rose to fetch the ladies some wine. The marquess offered to act as escort when Eleanor professed a desire to stretch her legs and invited Arabella and Winifred to stroll the halls with her.

Lady Eleanor was hugely popular, they quickly discovered. She was greeted frequently and stopped each time to introduce her new friends.

Eleanor was chatting gaily with an older couple when Arabella spied the stunning, red-haired beauty farther along the crowded corridor. When the lady approached Marcus and offered him a cool smile that held more than a hint of seduction, Arabella felt the strangest urge to scratch the woman's eyes out.

She was scolding herself for her absurd reaction when Winifred noticed her expression. “Don't be dismayed, my dear,” her friend whispered. “By all reports their affair was over months ago.”

“What affair?”

Winifred hesitated before grimacing. “You may as well hear the tale from me, so you won't leap to the wrong conclusions.”

“What conclusions? Winifred, will you please stop talking in riddles?”

She sighed. “Very well, that lady is the Viscount Eberly's very wealthy widow. To put it bluntly, she had a romantic liaison with Lord Danvers years ago when he was still Baron Pierce. Then after her elderly husband obligingly went to meet his Maker, they resumed the relationship for a brief time last Christmas, but it didn't last. She was too possessive and fancied becoming Baroness Pierce, so he broke it off. To my knowledge they have not been seen together since.”

Arabella suddenly felt a constriction tightening her chest. “They had an affair while her husband was still alive?”

“Well, yes. But it came to nothing in the end, and I doubt Lord Danvers is the least bit interested in her any longer.”

Arabella stared in dismay at Marcus and his beautiful inamorata. She couldn't deny her jealousy, yet her distress was not only because the stunning Lady Eberly had once been his mistress; it was also because Marcus had pursued the lady while she was still another man's wife.

Dragging her gaze away, Arabella lifted a hand to her mouth.

“Are you all right, dear?” Winifred asked in concern.

She couldn't answer just then for the churning in her stomach. To think Marcus had been trying to persuade her to accept his offer of marriage while assuring her that he was nothing like her father, who had harbored no qualms about committing adultery.

“It is nothing,” Arabella managed to lie. “Perhaps I indulged in too many rich dishes at dinner. And the theater
is
rather warm. I believe I will return to our box, Winifred.”

“Certainly, you should sit down.”

She drew a steadying breath as they moved along the corridor, telling herself she had no right to feel such hurt. She had no real claim to Marcus. It was just that she had begun to trust him, to open her heart to him.
You started to believe he was a man you could love.

She should have known his portrayal of the ideal suitor was too perfect to be real.

But seeing Marcus with his former mistress was a cold awakening to reality. Her father had indulged in countless affairs after marriage, showering his affection on his mistresses, leaving her mother to languish alone in humiliation and resentment and heartbreak, pining after an unfaithful man who could never love her. How could she trust that Marcus would be any different if she wed him?

Arabella felt the hot sting of tears burn her eyes. To think that she had actually attempted to picture herself as his wife. Clearly she had been indulging in pipe dreams. Marriage between them would never work out. She was foolish to have thought it might.

She was an even worse fool to let herself become so vulnerable to hurt after her first wretched experience with love. She had let her emotions become too involved with Marcus, obviously. If she didn't take care, she could end up making the same mistake all over again.

Arabella forced herself to swallow the ache in her throat. At least now there was no longer any danger of her falling in love with Marcus. Her resistance to him had been slipping day by day, softened by his seductive charm and his generosity toward her sisters. But she wouldn't allow it to weaken any further.

Their wager would be over in less than a week. She had only to survive until next Monday and then she could declare her independence from him. Meanwhile, she had to pretend to be unaffected by this new revelation about him.

Her thoughts were so distracted that she nearly ran into Fanny Irwin, who was returning to her own box with her gentleman patron in tow.

“Do forgive me, Fanny,” Arabella murmured. “I wasn't watching where I was going.”

Fanny surveyed her in concern. “Is something amiss, Arabella?”

She returned a strained smile. “No, I was just wool-gathering. It is so good to see you again, Fanny dear.”

Her concern evidently allayed, Fanny cast a glance farther down the corridor and then lowered her voice. “We shouldn't be seen speaking together in public, Arabella. Your blue-blooded friends will see you.”

Arabella followed her gaze to glimpse Marcus's aunt, Lady Beldon, standing at the door to their box, observing her encounter with Fanny with obvious disapproval.

“It is no matter,” Arabella replied. “I have no need to cultivate her ladyship's good opinion.”

“But what about—”

“I will write to you tomorrow, Fanny. Winifred,” she called over her shoulder. “You remember my good friend, Miss Irwin.”

Smiling, Winifred offered a polite greeting. They spoke for a brief moment before Arabella continued on her way. By the time she entered Marcus's box to find his aunt already seated, she was calmer and thinking more rationally, yet she couldn't help reflecting on how right Fanny had been to warn her against succumbing to the earl's seductive advances.

As she settled next to Winifred, though, she realized that Lady Beldon was addressing her. “You do realize, Miss Loring, that it is not proper for a lady to acknowledge a female of that stamp?”

Eleanor entered the box just then and resumed her seat between her aunt and Arabella. “A female of what stamp, Aunt?”

Lady Beldon sniffed. “Miss Loring knows whom I mean.”

At the viscountess's censorious tone, Arabella stiffened. Earlier this evening, Lady Beldon had readily acknowledged the promiscuous Lady Eberly. It seemed highly unfair to forgive such wantonness in a married lady while condemning fallen women like Fanny.

But Arabella struggled to keep her tone polite when she replied, “Miss Irwin is a childhood friend, my lady. We grew up together and were as close as sisters.”

“That is no excuse for recognizing her now.”

Eleanor's curious gaze went directly to Fanny. With a light laugh, she made an obvious effort to smooth troubled waters. “Pah, Auntie, I think you are being too fastidious. Miss Loring should be commended for her loyalty in not cutting her friend.”

Her aunt's lips pressed together in a tight line. “I trust I taught
you
how to conduct yourself in such situations, my girl.”

Eleanor surveyed the Cyprian thoughtfully. “Yes, you did, dearest aunt, but that doesn't mean I must like it. I expect I would enjoy meeting Miss Irwin. She doubtless leads an intriguing life, with few of the restrictions we unmarried young ladies must suffer.”