A Perfect Groom (6 page)

“Thank you.” Arabella slanted her a fond smile. “You are a dear.” She paused, then said softly, “It’s amazing that we ever became friends. We are such opposites, aren’t we? You’re graceful and tiny as a raindrop, while I’m grace
less
and thunder about like a great lout.”

“Stop it, Arabella. You sell yourself short. Which reminds me: Are you going to the
Bennington
gala tonight?”

Arabella nodded.

“Hmmm,” said Georgiana. An innocent pause, then, “Do you think he’ll be there?”

There was no doubt who she meant. Arabella groaned. “Now, there’s a dreadful thought.”

Georgiana laughed, while Arabella wished she could.

Oh, but Georgiana could be such a tease. It was a well-known fact that when it came to women, Justin Sterling chose only the pink of the
ton
. Really, to even intimate that she and Justin looked spectacular…why, it bordered on the ridiculous.

Yet she couldn’t deny, in some faraway place hidden deep inside her, a part of her was rather flattered.

There was, thank heaven, no sign of him. All in all, the evening passed rather pleasantly. At last, breathless from excitement, she started toward the side of the room where refreshments were being served.

“Arabella!”

Near the threshold, she turned. Walter Churchill was coming toward her.

“Walter, hello! I didn’t know you were here.” She almost hated herself for the way her heart sank. Truth be told, she’d been almost relieved that there had been no sign of him…or Justin Sterling, for that matter.

She liked Walter. She truly did. As for Justin, she told herself stoutly, he wasn’t worth even a second thought.

“I’ve only just arrived,” Walter said. “Arabella, please, I crave a word with you.” He indicated a small room just off the ballroom. Arabella hesitated, then reluctantly followed him.

There was a small sofa just inside the doorway. It was there he led her, gesturing for her to sit. There was an expression of utmost earnestness in his brown eyes as he sat beside her, near but not touching her.

“Arabella, please, tell me you’re not in love with him!”

Arabella blinked. His outburst wasn’t what she’d expected.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I saw you together last night. I saw you with him!”

Arabella inhaled. “You mean Justin Sterling?”

“Yes. You know what he is, don’t you? A rake-hell. A black-hearted scoundrel. Why, he’s kept half a dozen mistresses at once. Arabella —” Walter gazed at her pleadingly. “He’ll break your heart, if you let him.”

Arabella couldn’t help it. She laughed. Dear God — Georgiana and now Walter, too!

“Set your mind at ease, Walter. Believe me, I am impervious. I should never be taken in by the likes of such a man.”

“I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear it.” Lightly he touched her hand. “Arabella, I adore you. I worship you —”

“Walter, please.” She knew what was coming. She just knew it…

“Marry me, Arabella. Marry me. For I swear, you’ll break
my
heart if you don’t.”

Arabella sighed. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. “Walter. Walter, please, say no more!”

His expression rent her in two. Oh, God, she thought half-hysterically, but she should have had the speech down pat by now.

She didn’t. She was babbling, doing her best to ease his pain. “Walter, try to understand. I am very fond of you. Truly I am.” She
was
fond of him, and they got along favorably, if not famously…but she knew she could never be amorously inclined toward him. And that was the crux of it. If and when she ever married, she wanted passion and excitement and…and she would never find those things with Walter. Yet how could she say that without hurting his feelings?

“You are a kind, sweet man,” she continued, “and I am honored that you would think of me in such a way. Indeed, I foresee that someday you’ll make some woman a fine husband.” She paused, hoping it would be enough, praying it would!

Walter’s mouth opened, then closed. “Arabella,” he said quaveringly, “what are you trying to say? I have feelings for you. And I thought you had feelings for me —”

“But not those kinds of feelings. Walter, listen to me. I cannot be your wife.”

God help her, he appeared ready to weep. Arabella’s heart went out to him. She was the sort who wore her emotions for all to see, and it cut her to the quick to think that she was hurting him so.

“Walter, please understand how difficult this is for me. But I made a vow to myself a long time ago, a vow that when I marry it will only be for love.”

He gulped. “You don’t love me?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said gently. “In time, I think you’ll realize you don’t love me, either.”

The silence was horrid. He stared at her, his expression utterly hangdog.

“Walter, I’m so sorry,” she said lamely, “but it’s for the best. Truly it is.” Slipping a hand beneath his elbow, she rose and started toward the door, which had been left ajar.

At the threshold, he stopped and looked at her.

Arabella winced. “I can summon your carriage if you like.”

He shook his head. “There’s no need.” At last he turned and walked back into the ballroom, his shoulders slumped as if they held the weight of the world.

Rather anxiously, Arabella watched as he crossed the room and spoke to the footman near the stairs. Good. He wouldn’t make a scene. She hadn’t thought he would, but still, she was relieved. She rather doubted Walter would let it be known he’d asked for her hand, only to be rejected, which suited her perfectly. Why, if word of still another proposal got out, she was very much afraid the
ton
would
never
stop talking about her.

Smoothing the yellow muslin of her gown, she gathered herself in hand and prepared to rejoin the gala.

It was then she heard it…almost directly behind her.

Someone was clapping.

She froze. The skin on the back of her neck prickled in warning. She knew, even before she turned, who stood behind her.
 

* * *

“Yet another discarded suitor,” Justin observed. “I should imagine they’ll soon be able to form their own club.”

Arabella made no reply. He’d startled her, he realized.

“It was good of you to let him down gently,” he mused. “I wonder, were the others so fortunate?”

Her silence didn’t last for long — not that he expected it would. “You were lurking behind the door, weren’t you?” she accused. “Spying on me.”

“I was not. I was with Lord Bennington in his study. He offered me a brandy he’d just acquired, which I confess quite hit the spot. But a word of advice, Arabella. If you wish to carry on a conversation in private, it’s usually best to close the door.”

“I’ve not granted you leave to use my given name.” The primness of her tone was at complete odds with the fiery blue sizzle of her eyes. “You should have let your presence be known.”

“Pray tell, what would have been a good time? In between ‘I adore you’ and ‘I worship you’?”

If anything, the heat in her eyes flared hotter. Indeed, Justin decided, she was being remarkably restrained. Where was the explosion he’d expected?

He continued. “Obviously, though, he is not aware of our previous association or he wouldn’t have thought you were in love with me.”

Levelly she regarded him. “You wretch,” she said evenly.

“Oh, but I do believe it’s
I
who should be offended. You did not speak highly of me. However, I am compelled to inform you — that bit about half a dozen mistresses is greatly exaggerated.” He shrugged. “Not that I wouldn’t have liked to, I admit. But funds precluded it, I fear.”

Her chin came up. “You have no decency whatsoever, do you? What kind of man would say such a thing to a lady?”

Justin knew full well she had a temper to match the fire of her hair. It occurred to him he was baiting her — and enjoying it immensely.

“Come, now, Arabella. You gave an admirable performance of a concerned, compassionate woman. I must commend you. Why, you should have been on the stage.”

His efforts began to see fruition. She was growing agitated.

“Do you think I enjoyed that?” she flared.

“Didn’t you?”

Her chin came up. “I am not like you,” she stated coolly. “I am sensitive to his feelings.”

“Then why don’t you marry him?” He didn’t give her the chance to answer. “Ah, yes. Because you intend to marry only for love.”

She sent him an arch look. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Justin shrugged.

“I’ve heard it said that your brother married for love,” she reminded him.

“But he didn’t intend to. He set out in search of a bride who would fit his requisites for a wife. He was simply lucky enough to find love in the process.” Again he gave her no chance to respond. “But we stray from the subject. What I find difficult to believe is that
you
are capable of that tender emotion.”

Her lips clamped shut. She was practically spitting, just itching to launch into a tirade.

Admittedly, he found the prospect rather intriguing.

He tipped his head to the side. “What are you thinking, Arabella?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Believe me,” she stated with forced politeness, “you do not wish to know.”

“And if I said I did?”

“Grass before dawn,” she said between her teeth. “Does that give you a hint?”

“A duel,” he drawled. “How delicious. Oh, but I should have known you’d be contemplating ways to attack.”

And indeed, he decided with wry amusement, her glare left him in no doubt she was contemplating the possibility. If she were a predator, he’d be gnawed to the bone.

“Forgive me, but did you not just claim to be a tenderhearted woman? My, but you certainly pulled the wool over Walter’s eyes, didn’t you?”

“My God,” she gritted out, “if I had a pistol, I do believe I would shoot you on the spot!”

“Ah. Clearly my charm is utterly lost on you.”

“You have no charm.”

“Arabella!” He affected shock. “What a thing to say to a gentleman!”

“You, sir, are no gentleman!”

Ye gads, but she was a hoyden! As impetuous and strong-willed as ever, he suspected. And yet their encounter last night and tonight provided him the most entertainment he’d enjoyed in quite some time. He was enjoying her wit and their sparring — never mind that foolish, careless bet with Gideon. In the back of his mind, he made note to mention it the next time he saw him…

It was odd, but he felt suddenly buoyant. Alive as he hadn’t in longer than he could remember.

“It’s a good thing you declined poor Walter,” he said smoothly. “It’s clear he’s simply not up to the rapier slice of your tongue. But I promise, you’ll find me a worthy opponent.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What the devil is that supposed to mean? And why are you smiling in that wolfish way, as if there’s something you know that I don’t?”

She was nothing if not forthright, he decided. “I don’t know. Certainly it can’t be the company.”

“I shall ignore that,” she announced. “Now, then. I should like to discuss the matter of your spying on me —”

“I was not spying. I thought we established that.”

“We did not. But may I trust you will not disclose the nature of what you overheard?”

“Why?”

“Because I abhor gossip, that’s why.”

He arched his brows. “You mean you don’t relish your reign as The Unattainable?”

“I do not,” she muttered. “And if anyone else calls me by that horrid name again today, I swear I shall scream.”

His mouth quirked. “That should help to discourage gossip.”

Her eyes found his. “Do I have your assurance you will say nothing?” she demanded.

“Well,” he murmured, “I might be persuaded.”

“For what?”

A kiss
, he almost said. Indeed, it was only at the last instant he quelled the unexpected impulse.

He was all at once vastly annoyed with himself. A kiss with Miss Arabella Templeton…how the blazes had his mind conjured up something so preposterous?

It was a startling admission, considering she was the most vexing female he’d ever had the misfortune to encounter. Yet on second thought, perhaps it was neither startling nor preposterous.

His gaze had drifted down to her lips. She had a mouth given to laughter, he decided. A mouth fashioned purely for a man’s pleasure, full and lush and pink like the rest of her. He’d already mentally approved her choice of gown — the buttery yellow made her skin glow.

He found the prospect of kissing her — God, what was the matter with him? — provocative, at the least. In her zeal, she’d moved closer. That wasn’t helping matters. Nor did the earnestness of her regard. She was staring up at him intently, awaiting his answer, her lips parted, offering a glimpse of small white teeth. Christ, he wondered crazily, what
would
she taste like?