Arabella (25 page)

              She averted her head, her cheeks hot, heart thumping madly.  Why was it Harry could still affect her this way?  She was no longer in love with him, but his look had made her uncomfortable.

             
She glanced uneasily at Gervase.  Had he seen Harry?  She could imagine his reaction if he noticed the way he was staring at her!

             
Fortunately, the lights were going down now and Arabella was able to concentrate on the first act of the play, which amused her greatly.  Indeed, she was so caught up in it that when the lights went up she had forgotten the earlier incident.

             
Their box was the focus of attention as it so often was, and several gentlemen arrived to join them for a glass of wine during the interval. She stiffened as she heard what Jack Meadows was saying to one of the other visitors.

             
'That fool Sylvester is here this evening.'

             
'Drunk as usual I dare say,' the other replied.  'He finds marriage to that sour faced cit less pleasurable than he imagined I dare say.'

             
'What would you expect,' Jack said on a coarse laugh.  'He has been used to finer fare – and the father keeps a tight rein on the money I believe.  Sylvester is like a tame bear on a leading string.  No wonder he drinks all the time. I vow I would rather be dead than in his shoes.'

             
Arabella sipped her wine and looked out at the audience, her heart thumping as she saw that Harry was immediately below their box, looking up at them.  He made her an elaborate bow and then blew a kiss to her.  She looked away immediately, fanning herself to cool her heated cheeks.  Then, snatching a glance at Gervase, she saw that he had noticed this latest incident, and his eyes had narrowed to angry slits of displeasure.

             
Arabella was relieved when the lights went down and most of their guests returned to their own seats.  However, her pleasure in the play had been spoiled for she could not concentrate on what the actors were saying.

             
Harry was miserable in his marriage!  Did that mean he regretted it – that he wished he had married Arabella instead?  She remembered his bow and the kiss he had blown to her.  She had thought he was mocking her – but supposing he still cared…

             
What a fool she was to even think it!  All that was over.  She had a new life now.  Harry might be attracted to her in the fine gowns and jewels that Gervase had provided, but he had not cared for her when she was carrying his child.  She would be a fool to let him back into her life. Indeed, she did not want him, had found content in her life as it was – or would if she could be certain that Gervase was not thinking of ending their arrangement.

             
She tried hard to dismiss all thought of Harry Sylvester, and when Gervase took her home, she kissed him, showing him that she was pleased to have him back home.  He seemed a little cool at first, almost withdrawn, but once aroused, made love to her as passionately as always, bringing her to a trembling climax so that she screamed his name aloud, her nails scoring his shoulder.

             
But afterwards, when she would have liked to lie in his arms and talk of what he had been doing while he was away from her, he left the bed, saying that he was returning to his own house.

             
'But why, Gervase?' she asked.  'I have not seen you for three days.  I thought you would stay with me all night.'

             
'I have things to see to in the morning and must be about early,' Gervase said frowning.  'I'll take you somewhere tomorrow evening, Bella – and then perhaps I'll stay.'

             
'Sometimes I think you grow tired of me,' she said, a sulky pout to her mouth.  'Is there someone new in your life, Gervase?'

             
'Perhaps I should be the one asking that question.  Or rather – what is Sylvester to you?'

             
'Nothing!  How could he be?'  She sat up in bed, her knees to her chest, hair hanging over her shoulders in gorgeous disarray.  'How could you ask me that, Gervase?  You know that is long over.'

             
'Perhaps.'  His eyes were brooding, smoky with doubt.  'Yet Sylvester did not appear to think so this evening.'

             
'I cannot help the way men look at me,' Arabella said.  'You do not care when others stare at me.'

             
'But they have not been your lover.'

             
His mouth was a thin, hard line, his eyes cold, sending a shiver down her spine.

             
'Will you never forget that?' she cried.  'Why do you hate him so?  What has he done to you that made you set out to ruin him?'

             
'It is an old story,' Gervase said, his voice harsh and cold, shutting her out.  'But remember that I should not continue to keep you as my mistress if I believed that you were seeing him behind my back.'

             
'Believe what you like!' Arabella said and lay down, hunching her shoulder under the sheets.  He would always believe the worst of her and nothing she could do would change that.

             
'What I want to believe is that you prefer me,' Gervase said softly.  'But perhaps I am a fool…'

             
Arabella lay with her face hidden in the pillows.  She felt hurt and humiliated that Gervase should believe her faithless.  Harry's bows and kisses had affected her that evening, she could not deny it, but not to the extent that she would risk all she had for his sake. A part of her responded to him still but there was another that told her she was happier with Gervase than she had ever been.

             
'I shall see you tomorrow,' Gervase said.

             
She made no reply as he went out, and discovered that her cheeks were wet with tears.  If Gervase loved her he would trust her, wouldn't he?  But she knew that he didn't love her.  He merely desired her – and if he no longer wanted to stay all night with her that must mean she was losing him.  He would visit her less and less, and then she would be alone.

'A peace offering,' Gervase said as he presented her with a hatbox the next evening.  'Forgive me for being harsh to you last night, my love.  It was merely my jealousy.'

              'Were you jealous?' Arabella asked.  She opened the box and took out a delicious confection of feathers and ribbons, which she held over her head in front of the mirror before laying it aside.  'It is lovely, Gervase.  You spoil me as always.'

             
'You are worth spoiling, Bella.'

             
He was always giving her gifts, but what she wanted was to be loved.  To be trusted and treated with the respect that he would give to a wife – but she had forfeited her right to those things.  She was merely his mistress, a fallen woman, to be petted like a child but not loved.

             
'Am I?'  Her eyes were very bright with the tears that she would not allow to fall.  'Where are we going this evening?'

             
'Jack asked us to a supper he is giving at the club.  I said we would go, but we need not stay long.  I would rather be alone with you.  I have something I wish to talk to you about, Bella.'

             
Arabella's heart caught with fright.  He was going to tell her it was over, she was certain of it, and she hardly knew how to smile as she slipped her arm through his.  Yet she would not let him see how much she was hurting inside.  She had always known this day would come – what she hadn't understood was how much it would hurt.

             
'Then shall we go?' she asked brightly.

             
'Of course, my sweet.  May I tell you that I have seldom seen you looking lovelier, Bella?  I dare say you will have a bevy of new admirers this evening, but do not be afraid, I shall keep my temper locked securely away.  I do not wish to fall out with you this evening.'

             
Because he wanted to part on good terms?  He was a gentleman; his manner to her had always been impeccable.  He would want their parting to be civilised. Arabella was even more convinced that he meant to tell her their relationship was over, and determined to behave with dignity.

Jack's supper party was a merry one.  He had met a new heiress and was considering a proposal of marriage to her in the near future.

             
'Bethan is a sweet girl,' he told his friends.  'And her father is so very wealthy.  I almost think it worth giving up my freedom for the privilege of wedding her.'

             
'Do you love her?' Arabella asked and he looked at her consideringly.

             
'Probably as much as I could ever love anyone other than myself.'

             
'Now that is an honest answer,' Gervase said and laughed, much amused by his friend's manner.  'I believe our Jack has been caught in the cat's claws at last.'

             
'Would you marry her if she were not wealthy?' Arabella asked.

             
'Good lord no,' Jack admitted.  'Couldn't afford it, Bella my love.  I'm far too expensive – ask Gervase.  He's kept me from a debtor's prison often enough.'

             
'Only the Lord knows why,' Gervase said but gave him an affectionate look.  'So you will be a reformed character and there will be no more suppers in places like this?'

             
'No – not for a while,' Jack said looking a little rueful.  'I dare say Bethan wouldn't like it – and I couldn't bring her here, could I?  Not to a place like this.'

             
His careless words brought a flush to Arabella's cheeks.  She turned away, hurt that Gervase had not answered his friend.  Surely he could have said something - defended her?

             
As she glanced across the large dining room, she saw another party of young gentlemen, one of whom was Harry Sylvester.  She had not seen him at the club before and turned away quickly, her cheeks hot.

             
'Perhaps we should go, Gervase?'

             
He glanced at her, saw her distress and nodded, offering her his arm as he turned back to his friends.

             
'We have a prior appointment.  You will excuse us, everyone.'

             
Arabella clung to his arm as they made their way across the room.  All she wanted was to leave quickly.  Jack's careless insult had hurt her more than she would have thought possible, and she wanted to avoid contact with Harry Sylvester.

             
'So…' Harry was on his feet as they approached his table.  ''Tis Roxbourne and his lovely doxy.  How are you, Arabella, my love?  I vow you look even more beautiful than you did when you were my whore.'

             
Arabella felt as if she had been turned to stone.  How could Harry say such things to her?  How could he so insult her?

             
'Stand aside, Sylvester,' Gervase's tone was harsh, cold.  'We have no desire for your company.'

             
'It irks you doesn't it?' Harry said with an insulting leer.  'That she was mine first.  You can't stomach that I had her…'

             
Gervase let go of Arabella's arm and stepped forward.  His mouth was a thin line, his eyes like ice as they moved over the other man with obvious disdain.

             
'You are a disgusting swine, Sylvester,' he said in ringing tones that carried.  'If I thought you capable I would challenge you to a duel – but I hear you are never sober long enough…'

             
'Be damned to you!'  Harry lunged at him, striking him across the face.  'I'll meet you whenever you like.  Marsham and Bellinger will stand my seconds.'

             
'As you wish,' Gervase replied and named two of the gentlemen that had been at Jack's supper with them.  'My seconds will call on you in the morning, sir.  Come, Arabella, the air in here is sour.  We shall not stay to breathe it further.'

             
Arabella felt him grip her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh, hurting her as he almost dragged her from the room and out into the cool night air.  She was shaken by what had happened, her stomach sickened with the insults that had been offered her that evening.

             
She was bundled inside Gervase's carriage roughly, as if he were angry with her, which made her angry in turn.  Why had he not defended her – either to Jack or Harry Sylvester?  He had been coldly insulting to Harry, but he had not tried to defend her reputation, and that her cut her to the bone.

             
'You will not fight him?' she flung the words at him without thinking.  'He would be no match for you, Gervase.  You keep your skills honed.  Harry has let himself go…'