Arabella (21 page)

             
'I'll have it brought round immediately,' the housekeeper said.  'His lordship said as you were to have everything you needed, mistress.'

             
'Thank you.  I shall wait in…here,' Arabella replied and walked into a small parlour.  Its décor was a pretty combination of varying shades of green and cream, the furniture the same high quality mahogany as in the bedchamber upstairs, and made by one of the best craftsmen in London.  She wandered about the room, picking up a gilded mantle clock to examine it and discovering it was French, glanced at a delicate ladies writing desk and chair and ran her fingers over the keys of a spinet.  The house had been furnished with taste and care and was fine indeed. She was just studying the contents of a cabinet containing exquisite china when the housekeeper returned to tell her that the carriage was waiting.

             
Arabella thanked her and went outside.  It was a pleasant enough day, the sun just breaking through a cloud laden sky as she climbed into the carriage with the assistance of an attentive footman.  Arabella nodded distantly.  It was clear that Gervase had ordered she be treated as an honoured guest and she would behave as if there was nothing untoward in her unexpected arrival at his house.

             
'Where do you wish to be taken, Mistress Tucker?'

             
Arabella's thoughts had been wandering but his question brought her back to the present.  Where did she wish to go?  After some thought she decided on the only house in London that she was sure would receive her.

             
'Lady Mary Randall, Hanover Square if you please.'

             
Once inside, Arabella was able to appreciate the comfort of the Marquis' carriage.  She had thought her aunt's carriage a vast improvement on the one she had travelled to London in, but this was luxury indeed.  And it would be hers to use as often as she pleased if she gave Gervase the answer he wanted – but could she be his mistress when her heart belonged to Harry?

             
He had hurt her terribly that day at the prison by suggesting that she become a rich man's mistress, but she had decided that he was merely thinking of her future.  In prison he could do nothing for her and he had known that there was little else she could hope for now that her reputation was lost.

             
Unless her aunt could think of a plan it seemed unlikely that she would receive a better offer, Arabella mused as she glanced out at the London streets.  It seemed an age since she had been in the fashionable part of town, and when she caught sight of an acquaintance passing she lifted her hand in salute, but was dismayed when the gentleman seemed not to know her.  Only a year or so ago he had been one of her admirers. Had she changed so much – or was he aware of her lost reputation?

             
Things had changed considerably since she left London, Arabella had decided by the time the carriage reached Hanover Square.  A year or so ago she had been an innocent country maiden, of good family and respectable, now she was a woman that most others would refuse to welcome to their house. She was a little uneasy as she told the coachman to wait and then knocked at the door of Lady Mary's house, fearing that she might be refused entrance.

             
A woman she had not seen before opened the door, but after glancing at the expensive carriage and then Arabella's costly gown, she asked her into the receiving room.

             
'If you would care to wait here, Mistress Tucker I shall ask her ladyship if she is at home to visitors.'

             
Arabella did not care to be left kicking her heels in the small parlour where strangers were shown, and the moment the servant had gone she ran upstairs and made her way along the corridor to her aunt's boudoir.  She knocked and entered just as the maid was describing her to Lady Mary.

             
'Arabella!' her aunt cried in alarm.  'Where have you sprung from, girl?'

             
'I left her in the receiving room downstairs, milady.'

             
'Oh go away, Lisa, and stop fussing,' Lady Mary said.  She was sitting up in bed, wearing a fetching pink wrapping gown, a scattering of letters spread around her and a pot of chocolate on the table beside her.  'Come here, Arabella, and let me look at you.  I must say that you seem none the worse for your adventures, girl, though that gown is not in the first stare.  Where have you been?  We were all concerned about you.  Lady Spencer was quite beside herself – and the Marquis of Roxbourne had people looking for you for sometime I believe.'

             
'It was he who found me,' Arabella said deciding to leave the details vague.  'I was in some difficulty after Lord Sylvester was taken to a debtors' prison.'

             
'That rogue!'  Lady Mary pulled a face.  'I rue the day I ever encouraged him to this house.  Had you not met him here you might have been happily married – instead of which you are ruined.  I suppose you realise that, Bella?  No decent woman would invite you to her house, my dear.  You are so foolish!  Did I not warn you?  Could you not have married some obliging fool and taken your lover after giving your husband an heir?  No one would have been in the least shocked about that and you might have been a wealthy woman.'

             
'Do you not think that hypocrisy, aunt?  That a young single woman may not take a lover, but a married one may do as she pleases?'

             
'Whatever you think of our rules they are there to protect us,' her aunt told her crossly.  'You flout them at your peril.  I am sorry for your troubles, but must tell you that I cannot help you now, Bella.  I can give you a little money, but nothing more.  It would be frowned upon if I tried to take you back into my circle and as I have a new protector – a gentleman of some distinction – he would not care for the association. You have no one to blame but yourself.'

             
Arabella saw that it was useless to appeal to her aunt.  She had not even told her about her sojourn in Mistress Elizabeth's bawdyhouse, and knew that it would merely set the seal upon her disgrace.  Had she been able to persuade her aunt to help her, someone was bound to recognise her and she would be cast out immediately, even if she tried to pretend that she was innocent.

             
'Thank you, but I have some money,' Arabella said, her head lifting with pride.  'I did not come to you for help, merely to ask how my sister does and if my father was buried properly.'

             
'Nan is well enough,' Lady Mary's mouth twisted sourly.  'She leads her husband a merry dance I dare say, but he will tire of her in the end.  As for your father, Roxbourne did all that was necessary.  You should have married him, Bella.  Of course he would not look at you now.  Everyone knows that he hated Harry Sylvester.'

             
'And he ruined him!' Arabella said.  'If poor Harry hadn't been in such terrible debt he might have married me.'

             
Lady Mary gave a harsh laugh.  'If you believe that you have learned nothing,' she said.  'Well, I have spoken fairly with you, Bella, for you were always my favourite – but I shall not see you again.  My servants will be told that my door is not open to you in future.'

             
Arabella inclined her head.  Her cheeks stung with a high colour and she wished that she could think of some way to discomfort her aunt, but knew that she had no power to reach her.  Lady Mary would probably have refused to see her at all if she had not taken the initiative.

             
'Then we shall not meet again, aunt,' she said.  'I thank you for your past kindness, and regret that I have caused you unease.'

             
'Why could you not have been sensible?'  Lady Mary sighed and waved her hand.  'Go away, Bella.  You have chosen your own path to destruction and must follow it.'

             
Arabella walked from the house, her head high.  Her aunt was not a cruel woman but she had always believed in making things plain, and the situation could not be rectified.  Her reputation was gone, and she must live by her wits in future.  If she could not have Harry, she must have another man as her protector. For even if she tried to find work as a governess or a companion, she would be dismissed the moment her reputation was discovered.

             
She allowed Gervase's servant to help her into the carriage, leaning her head back against the squabs as she gave the order to return to his house.  She had no appetite for shopping.  Nor was she sure that some of the exclusive seamstresses she had visited in the past would serve her.  They had their reputations to think of and might feel that a woman in her situation was likely to deter their regular customers.

             
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, but she brushed it away.  She would not give way to self-pity!  It hurt her that her aunt had rejected her for it meant that she had no one she could turn to, no one she could count her friend.  Nan would delight in humbling her if she went there – and her beloved father was dead.

             
The carriage had come to a standstill.  Arabella opened her eyes and glanced out of the window.  A crowd had gathered in the street, which was why the carriage could not pass.  She saw that they were close to a church and heard the bells ring out as the bridal couple came out to the laughing reception of their friends, who threw dried rose petals over them.

             
'Forgive the delay, your ladyship,' someone said to her from outside her carriage window.  'Tis the wedding of my daughter Miss Jane Archer to her lord and I fear we are blocking the street…'

             
'Miss Jane…' Arabella looked more intently at the bridegroom who was looking happy and sure of himself as his plain, plump bride hung possessively on his arm.  'Lord Harry Sylvester…'

             
'The very same,' the proud father agreed.  'You may have heard sad tales of him, ma'am, but he is a reformed character now – and my Jane loves him.  She had to have her way, and I dare say he will behave himself in the future…'

             
Arabella sat back against the squabs, drawing down the blind at her window as she felt the shock run through her.  Harry's wedding day!  He was marrying that cit's daughter for her inheritance!  He had sold himself for money.  How could he do that when he had sworn that he loved her – would always love her?

             
The carriage jerked as the horses began to move again.  Arabella resisted the temptation to look out of the window as they moved nearer to the church.  She felt sick, devastated by what she had seen and heard, but also angry.

             
It seemed that men were all the same.  They lied and cheated, using women who were foolish enough to give into their charm.  She wanted to leap from the carriage and attack Harry, to tear him limb from limb.  Oh, how she hated him!  If she were a man she would take a horsewhip to him.

             
She wanted to die and yet at the same time she wanted to live so that one day she would be able to pay Harry back for what he had done to her.  He had ruined her, left her to give birth to his child alone, taken the money she had been foolish enough to give him – and now he had married that wretched girl for her money.

             
He would make her miserable and it served her right!  Tears of rage welled up in Arabella's eyes but she dashed them away.  She would not cry for Harry again.  He was not worth her tears.

             
There was no hope for her there, Arabella realised.  She had been secretly keeping hope alive but now she knew it was ended.  She must make a new life for herself, and she had only one option.

             
She must take Gervase's offer.  She must become his mistress.  She had no other choice. At least none that appealed to her, and his kiss that morning had made her think that perhaps she might quite like to be his lover.  She shrugged off her misery.  Since she had no choice, she might as well make the best of things.

Arabella glanced at herself in the dressing mirror.  The gown she was wearing was a dark blue silk over a petticoat of cream and silver.  The neckline was more modest than she would have chosen for herself, but apart from loosening the bodice a little so that she could breathe, she had not tried to change it.  Her hair was caught up on top of her head in soft curls, one ringlet allowed to fall on her shoulder.

             
She had no jewels of any kind, but she supposed she looked well enough.  Gervase must think her attractive or he would not have bought her in that wretched auction.  Nor would he have offered to set her up as his mistress.

             
It was a pity that she had thrown away her chance of becoming his wife – if that had ever been an option.  But he had promised her her own house and a settlement, and if she were clever she might win many rich presents from him.  She would be careful with her money in future, she decided, for there was no telling how soon he would tire of her.