To Pleasure a Lady

their wager. How powerful could his feelings for her be if he hadn’t even bothered to argue with her?

She had wanted to argue with him. She had wanted to call him back and tell him how she felt for him.

At the painful wrench of her heart, Arabella squeezed her eyes shut. What idiocy! She should be glad she had deliberately sent him away before she risked even greater hurt than last time. Yet no amount of rational logic could explain the dreadful ache inside her, the hollow sense of devastation.

Trembling, Arabella wrapped her arms around herself. What was wrong with her? It was absurd to feel moisture burning in her eyes. Absurd and deplorable. She despised tears. Other than to mourn her father’s passing, she had never cried during the terrible scandals her parents had caused. She had borne the painful loss of her mother and the public repudiation by her betrothed without once giving in to tears. She had stoically endured the humiliation, the rejection and poverty that had followed. So why did she feel so desperately like crying now? She was free of Marcus. She should be overjoyed that the threat was over.

Yet it seemed an empty, bitter victory.

It was then that she heard Lily’s muttered oath behind her. “Did the earl make you cry, Belle? I swear, I will draw and quarter him!”

Arabella dashed frantically at her eyes and summoned a weak laugh as she looked up at her youngest sister. “It is not ladylike to swear, Lily. And it is certainly not polite to threaten to dismember an earl.”

“I don’t give a fig! I will murder him for hurting you.”

Easing Lilian aside, Roslyn bent over Arabella and took her hand. “She doesn’t mean it. It is just that we hate to see you in such pain.”

“I will get over it.”

I will! Arabella vowed fiercely, although she knew it would be a long time before it happened, if ever.

Chapter Seventeen

Can I believe Marcus when he says he loves me? Do I dare to trust in love again?

– Arabella to Fanny

Dismayingly, the pain did not relent. Nearly a full week after Marcus’s acrimonious departure, Arabella still felt the residual effects, despite her every effort to the contrary.

The weather on this Saturday afternoon was perfect-lazy and bright with sunshine-and yet a stark contrast to Arabella’s dour mood. The academy’s pupils were enjoying an outing at the Freemantle estate, some playing Pall Mall on the lawns with Roslyn, others rowing boats on the ornamental lake, supervised by Tess and Lily, and still others plucking flowers from the gardens and making wreaths to adorn their hair and bonnets under the guidance of Jane Caruthers. A sumptuous tea would follow later, held under the elm trees and presided over by Lady Freemantle.

Arabella took little pleasure in the treat, however. Instead, she withdrew to the shade of an elm, where she could nurse her melancholy in private and halfheartedly watch the frolic on the lake. When the girls began playing tag with the rowboats, splashing each other and frequently erupting in shrieks of delighted laughter, she was surprised that Tess Blanchard joined in.

Arabella roused herself from her morose thoughts long enough to smile. It was good to see Tess laughing and enjoying life for a change, since she’d been in mourning for the past two years. Before her engagement had ended with the death of her betrothed in the terrible Battle of Waterloo, no one had been more lively and high- spirited than Tess. That she was now showing some of her once customary gaiety suggested that she finally had resolved to rejoin the living.

Perhaps a quarter hour later, Tess tore herself away from the lake battle and made her way, breathless with laughter, to where Arabella sat all alone.

“I have come to recruit you to our side, Arabella,” Tess said, extending her hands down as if to pull Arabella to her feet. “We need you for reinforcements.”

Arabella returned a wan smile. “Thank you, but I have no desire to become drenched, as you are. I endured more than enough soaking last week when I chased after Sybil in an atrocious thunderstorm.”

Tess cast an amused glance over her shoulder to eye Sybil, who was primly wandering the gardens under the strict dictates of Lady Freemantle. “Your sacrifice was obviously worthwhile. Sybil’s reputation was saved along with our academy’s. Even better, she is so disquieted by the possibility of being expelled that her behavior has become perfectly angelic. I vow I don’t recognize her anymore.” Tess returned her attention to Arabella. “Come now, the sun is warm enough to dry your gown quickly. I won’t allow you to mope on such a glorious day.”

When Arabella refused to respond, Tess frowned and sank down to sit on the grass beside her. “What is wrong, dearest? You have been perfectly miserable ever since Lord Danvers left for London.”

Wincing, she looked away. It was vexing to admit how wretched she’d felt since Marcus left. She had hoped her life would return to normal, but her hopes had proved futile, since everywhere she turned, she found reminders of him. Her misery was compounded by the fact that she hadn’t heard a word from him or his solicitors in all that time.

“Perhaps I am sickening with an ague,” Arabella prevaricated.

Tess gave her a penetrating look. “Perhaps you are lovesick.”

Unable to deny the charge, she returned a humorless laugh. “Is my condition so obvious?”

“Your unhappiness is obvious, at least.” Tess’s gaze searched her face. “But are you certain it is love you feel for him, Arabella, and not just a powerful physical attraction? It isn’t merely infatuation?”

She had little doubt of her feelings for Marcus, Arabella reflected, but it would be good to talk about her dilemma with someone who could understand. Tess knew about true love, since she had been sincerely in love with her betrothed. “I believe it is love, but how does one tell?”

Her friend’s gaze grew thoughtful. “The signs are usually recognizable. When you love a man, he becomes the center of your world. You yearn to be with him, and when you are not, he is constantly on your mind. He brightens your day. His simplest touch sparks passion in you…a tender look fires a warmth in your heart. Life feels empty without him.” Tess paused. “Is that how you feel about Lord Danvers, Arabella?”

Gazing down at her clasped fingers, Arabella nodded. That was precisely how she felt about Marcus, including the emptiness. Since he’d been gone, the hollow feeling inside her chest was a relentless ache that wouldn’t go away.

“You miss him sorely, don’t you?” Tess prodded in a sympathetic tone.

“Yes.” She missed him dreadfully.

“So what do you intend to do about it?”

Arabella gave a helpless laugh. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think he might love you in return?” Tess asked.

“He claimed he does.”

Tess stared. “Lord Danvers actually told you he loves you?”

“Yes…last week, just after we returned from rescuing Sybil. But I wouldn’t believe him. I feared he was just saying so to persuade me to accept his proposal.”

Her friend hesitated. “Arabella, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to declare his love without meaning it. I doubt he has ever made such a confession to any other woman.”

“No, I suspect not.”

“So how did you respond to his declaration?”

She flushed at the memory. “I’m afraid I panicked. That was the moment I realized I loved him, and I was suddenly terrified. I told Marcus that I had won the wager and wouldn’t marry him. That he would be better off leaving at once.”

“So that is why he left Danvers Hall? You drove him away?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Tess said slowly, “it is not too late to mend matters. Not if you love each other.”