A Hint of Scandal (18 page)

“I know Autley can be daunting. But you shall soon become familiar with the inner workings of my home. And as for the servants, I shall speak to them,” he said dismissively.

“As for not wanting to be married to me,” he continued, “I would remind you of a conversation we had not so long ago, when you specifically said that you believed common interests and respect for each other were the most important ingredients in a marriage. I would put it to you that we have those ingredients, Bella.”

During his speech, Bella had begun to pace on the Turkish carpet. At this last statement, she turned on him with angry eyes.

“How dare you throw my words up at me at a time like this? You know very well that those standards could never apply to us.”

She saw his expression close as he pushed himself away from the desk and returned to his chair.

“I have a different opinion on the subject,” he said in a very neutral tone. “But I am not prepared to continue this discussion.”

Bella marched up, leaned forward, and placed her hands forcefully upon his desk. “I have no intention of making the best of anything, your grace. And I shall do everything in my power to extricate myself from a future I know will be filled with misery.”

His gray gaze seemed to ice over. “You overstep yourself, Arabella. The simple fact is that we are married. And nothing shall change that.”

Something in his intractable tone caused a frisson of fear to travel to her heart. She had never seen this side of him and she was at a loss as to how to reach him. As she continued to stare into his unreadable eyes, she knew there was no use in continuing to goad him.

Lowering her head, she turned to leave the room. As she reached the door the duke’s voice halted her steps.

“Bella,” he said in a softer tone. “I told you once that everything would be all right. If you could grow to trust me, I still believe that is possible.”

Without turning to look at him, Bella opened one heavy door, stepped into the hallway, and slammed it shut behind
her as hard as she could. The startled footman was so caught off guard that he actually uttered an exclamation as the new duchess darted past him and ran down the hall.

Once Bella gained her bedchamber, she threw herself on the bed. But she remained dry-eyed as she pondered what to do next.

F
our days later, Bella found herself wandering around the large sitting room, holding an unread book in her hand. She could not recall her emotions ever being in such a state of confusion. Life at Autley was even worse than she had feared it would be. There was nothing to do! Back home she had run her father’s house just as she pleased, she thought dismally as she sat down in a petit-point-covered chair.

Right now, if she were back at Mabry Green, she would be helping her aunt plan the spring garden party that took place on the lawns of Penninghurst Park every year.

It had been apparent to her from the moment of her arrival that Autley was run with formal precision; the servants took care of even the smallest task. Mealtimes never deviated from a centuries-old schedule. Even some servants had servants to wait upon them, she had learned to her amazement. So on top of her confusion and distress over the forced marriage between herself and the duke, Bella was growing increasingly bored. And now, to her further distress, the duke was gone from Autley again.

Not that she had seen much of him since their encounter in his library. What little she did see of him was usually while the length of the dining table separated them at mealtimes. Conversation between them was awkward at best, and this saddened Bella even more.

Where was the witty, good-natured gentleman whom she
had gotten to know at the manor? Where was the man with whom she had had lively discussions over their favorite books? Where was the man who had on occasion made her blush with his flirting? She even missed him.
This
duke was remote and forbidding.

Last night during dinner, Bella had been startled when he had broken the oppressive silence and addressed her from the other end of the table.

“Arabella,” he had begun, looking across the table at her, over the multitude of crystal goblets of varying sizes and shapes. “I shall be leaving for Derbyshire in the morning. I have an estate there in need of my attention. I shall be back at Autley in a fortnight or so.”

She had regarded him for a moment, taking in how elegant he appeared in his formal evening attire as he gazed back at her with an unreadable expression.

For an instant Bella thought of asking Westlake to take her with him, but she had immediately discarded the notion.

Now, as she sat in this beautiful room with its gilded cornices and breathtaking view of the lake, Bella thought about her future. How could they continue in this fashion? Surely the duke would want to be married to a woman who would give him children someday.

His words, spoken to her in his library the other night, now came to mind. Did he really believe that having a few common interests and some mutual respect could possibly overcome the differences they faced?

These disturbing thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and the immediate entry of Hollings carrying a silver tray.

“A letter, your grace,” he intoned with a bow.

“Thank you,” she said with a slight smile, which the butler did not return.

As the butler closed the door behind him, Bella looked down at the folded vellum curiously. Instantly she recognized the hand as belonging to her aunt and opened the envelope eagerly.

Her eyes scanned the note and took in the news of Mabry Green and the goings-on at Penninghurst Park.

A particular passage caught her attention, and she read that segment again.

Glancing back to the date at the top of the page, Bella made a quick calculation and determined that her aunt and Triss would have arrived at their rented town house by yesterday, today at the latest.

She finished reading the letter and sat for some moments with her eyes on the lake beyond the French windows, without really taking in the beautiful view.

A look of determination settled on her features, and her expressive deep blue eyes were less troubled than they had been in weeks. Rising, she set the book that had been in her lap on a side table, refolded her aunt’s letter, and left the sitting room. As she climbed the steps of the wide Italian-marble staircase, she espied a footman in the hall below. She caught his eyes, and he stopped and bowed.

“Please send my maid to me,” she directed, hoping that her tone sounded firm.

Since she had arrived, she had noticed that the servants at Autley were an imperious lot. They were nothing like the good-natured family retainers at Penninghurst Park. They were much too well trained to have been outright insubordinate to her, but they certainly did not make an effort to do her bidding promptly. So it was somewhat to her surprise that by the time she had gained her bedchamber, Jones, the middle-aged woman appointed as her maid, was waiting in the room for her.

Bobbing a curtsy, the maid waited for Bella to speak.

“Please have a trunk packed with my belongings, and inform the head groom that I require a coach to be ready to depart in the morning. I want to be in London before nightfall.”

Bella saw a look of surprise cross the older woman’s face.

“Very good, your grace,” Jones said, and bobbed another curtsy before leaving the room.

As soon as she was alone, Bella finally gave way to a very satisfied smile.

“So this is London,” Bella said, more to herself than to Jones, as she looked out of the coach window onto the crowded, noisy street.

Hearing this comment caused the maid to mentally reiterate the comment she had made to the housekeeper the night before: that the new duchess was one step removed from being a turnip

“Yes, your grace,” Jones said with strained civility.

Ignoring the surly maid, Bella continued to look out of the window with great interest. Her heart quickened its beat every time she thought about her departure from Autley. She had never done anything so bold in her life, she thought, still marveling at her own temerity.

“Would you please give this letter to his grace when he returns?”

The butler had taken the note and looked down his very long nose at her.

“Perhaps your grace would have me send it to Derbyshire?” he had hinted in a censorious tone.

“No. When his grace returns will suffice,” she had tossed over her shoulder as she stepped into the luxurious traveling chaise.

Now, as they wended their way through the twisting streets of London in search of her aunt’s town house, Bella wondered what the stuffy old majordomo had thought of her actions.

Very soon, the carriage had entered a less busy street and turned up a drive.

“This is the address, your grace,” the coachman informed her.

Bella allowed him to assist her from the carriage. She looked around the pleasant tree-lined street before going up and knocking on the black-painted door. An ancient, stooped man answered her knock.

“Would you please inform Lady Penninghurst that her
niece, Arabella, is here?” she asked, unable to bring herself to use her new title.

The decrepit butler peered up at Bella before he stepped back and let her enter the modestly proportioned foyer.

“A moment, miss. I will inform her ladyship,” he said before shuffling off.

Bella cooled her heels in the foyer, a feeling of excitement at the thought of seeing her aunt bringing a soft smile to her lips. It was a pity that the thought of seeing her cousin again did not bring about the same feeling.

“Arabella!”

Bella’s head went up at the sound of her name being called, and she saw her aunt descending the staircase.

“Aunt Elizabeth, how well you look,” she replied with pleasure, ignoring the distressed expression on her aunt’s face.

“Bella!” Lady Penninghurst said again as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Never tell me you have run away from the duke?”

“No, of course not. His grace is off in Derbyshire tending one of his estates. So I have decided to come to town and renew my wardrobe,” she explained, deciding not to tell her aunt that the duke was unaware of her excursion.

Her aunt frowned at her. “It is wonderful to see you, Bella, and I own I have been worried. But to come to town so soon after being married?”

“Oh, it’s perfectly all right, Aunt,” Bella said with a confidence she did not feel. “The duke shall be coming to London presently.”

Bella refused to feel bad about this fib, as it caused the worried expression to instantly lift from her aunt’s brow.

“Well, then, that’s wonderful,” Elizabeth responded with relief. “Where is the duke’s town house?”

Bella looked at her aunt with a mildly startled expression, for she had never given a thought to the idea that the duke would have a town house.

“Er… his town house? I thought I would stay here until Westlake arrives. I have a trunk and my maid outside. That is, if you do not mind…” she manufactured quickly.

Lady Penninghurst gave her niece a sharp, suspicious
look. “Bella, answer me true. Is all well with you and the duke?”

Bella met her aunt’s anxious gaze for a brief moment before looking away with ill-concealed sadness.

“As well as can be, under the circumstances, Aunt Elizabeth,” Bella replied.

A long, tense moment passed before her aunt’s look softened.

“Of course you may stay, Bella.”

Sagging with relief, Bella thanked her profusely.

“Come to the sitting room. I shall have your trunk brought upstairs, and Hobbs will tend to your coach and servants.”

Bella thanked her aunt again, and followed her into the sitting room. “How are Papa and Tommy?” she asked as she removed her bonnet.

“They are quite well,” her aunt said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Your papa misses you, though he won’t admit to it. Tommy has been a little in the mopes since you left, but as he still has the duke’s horse to tend, that keeps him busy.”

Bella’s hands stilled on the buttons of her spencer as she looked at her aunt with surprise-filled eyes.

“The duke’s horse? That beast is still at your stables?”

“Yes.” Her aunt nodded before indicating to Bella that she should be seated. “Tommy is growing terribly attached to the animal. I am afraid that it will break his heart when the horse has to be returned. In truth, the horse really won’t let anyone else near him.”

“I wonder why the duke has left him at the Park,” Bella asked with a perplexed frown on her brow.

“Well, there have been other, more important things for the duke to attend to in the last few weeks,” Lady Penninghurst opined before she returned to the door. “I shall only be a moment—I want to give Hobbs the order.”

Nodding, Bella allowed herself to lean back and relax on the comfortable settee. Hearing the door open again a moment later, she turned, thinking her aunt had been very quick.

“Hello, Bella.” Triss was standing in the doorway,
dressed in a sky-blue gown, wearing a very tentative expression on her face.

“Hello, Beatrice,” Bella responded, a little surprised at the dark circles under her cousin’s eyes.

“Mother says that you are to stay with us. I am very glad,” she said.

“You are? I shouldn’t be if I were you.” Bella’s reply was cold.

“Why not?” Triss came farther into the room.

“If you knew how angry I am with you, you would not want me here.”

“I do want you here. I have missed you and have been worried about you. I would very much appreciate it if you would ring a peal over me. I know how much I deserve it.”