An Accidental Affair (18 page)

In a world where every word had to be guarded and every decision weighed carefully, Arabella’s choice to place her trust in Rothwell was extraordinary, even to her. At the end of each day of their journey home to Winslette, they’d had a quiet dinner together and then she’d spend the long hours of the night tossing and turning, finally to be awoken by Rothwell’s quiet tap on the door each morning so they could enjoy a very early departure, as was his preference.

They had been traveling since before the sun rose each morning, leaving London sleeping in their wake. They’d taken rooms at pleasant inns along the way, but had resumed their journey each morning without incident. She had barely spent a moment alone and was not sorry for it.

Rothwell remained alert on his side of the carriage, Arabella facing toward home. It was not lost on her the sense of peace that came with leaving London. What she wasn’t so sure of was why Rothwell expected nothing in return for his assistance.

His head turned from the window and their eyes met across the carriage. He neither smiled nor frowned, simply held her gaze a long moment before returning his attention to the view. It was almost as if he felt nothing about helping her. That was comforting but also a touch insulting. After giving it some thought, she realized she would miss his quiet company and the way he instantly made her feel safe.

Her gaze traveled to the man seated at his side. She had been rather startled to find Mr. Holland seated inside the carriage before she entered it that first morning. Rothwell gave no explanation for Holland’s presence, but the man made as unlikely a chaperone as there had ever been. He smiled as he turned the page.

And there it was again. A resemblance she couldn’t dismiss after so many hours of close confinement. Holland’s lips quirked often, a reaction perhaps to a passage in the book he was reading, and he turned the page, looking very much like Rothwell.
 

Arabella leaned her head against the squabs, allowing her deductions to form, unimpeded by emotion. Rothwell and Holland were related of a certainty. There was similarity in much of their faces, though only Rothwell could truly be considered handsome. Holland was shorter and seemed a few years older than his employer. She had few doubts they shared the same blood—they appeared as similar as brothers.

“It won’t be long now, I should think,” Rothwell murmured.

She smiled as she noticed that Rothwell spoke both for her own benefit as well as for that of Mr. Holland. Despite being lord and servant—or were they even that?—Rothwell appeared to consider the comfort of the other man quite often.

She said, “No, not long at all. Just along the way is a little bridge where the local children like to fish. After that is a row of very large oak trees beside a long stone wall. A short distance from there we turn right, and another mile after is Winslette.”

“You know the place very well indeed.” A frown marred his handsome face. “You were from Essex, Maidstone, were you not? Do you visit there often?”

She was surprised he knew and remembered that. “Not very often at all, but I do long to travel to see old friends. I suppose that will be difficult now. I did not consider this before, but given how things stand now, I know not how I will support myself.”

Rothwell smiled to acknowledge her situation. “Old friends are often the very best. They forgive lapses of communication more easily than newer acquaintances, in my opinion.”

She appreciated that he made no mention of how to solve every difficulty in her life. Having him, a friend of a friend, purchase her home was a remarkable boon and certainly removed one burden from her mind. Her servants would not be dismissed out of hand, but there was only so much she could ask of him for herself. Their friendship was far too insubstantial to risk. One demand too many and his aid might disappear completely. “I had a best friend when I was growing up there, but she married and moved to the north. We still write each year. I had wished to see her again one day.”

“Where did she move to? Do you know?”

“Somerset, a house east of Taunton.”

Rothwell smiled suddenly and glanced out the window. “I have an estate near there, don’t I, Holland?”

“Yes, my lord.” Holland closed his book. “A small house on a hill in the middle of several hundred acres, I believe.”

Rothwell frowned. “The roadway floods during the spring rains.”

“I believe that was why you bought the place.” Holland grinned. “You said the flooded road would lessen any interruptions from unwanted visitors.”

“Sounds like a very good reason to buy any place the Fords cannot reach.” Rothwell smiled cheekily in Arabella’s direction. “I like to avoid them at all costs.”

Arabella laughed. “So if I confess that your aunt quite terrifies me, you will not think too badly of me? I always wonder why she smiles at me so much when we have little to do with one another.”

Rothwell appeared startled by that revelation and glanced at Holland. They exchanged a long look, quite like one seeing a reflection in a mirror, before Rothwell returned his attention to her. “She would be hard-pressed to find fault with you, but you are wise to regard her with caution,” he said in all seriousness. “My aunt cannot help but meddle. Ah, we’re here at last.”

Arabella stared out the window. Home. As had happened so often during the journey, she’d lost track of time while speaking with Rothwell. She was just getting the man to open up and now the journey was over. She was very sorry it was. She’d love to know why he avoided his family, aside from wishing for no interference in his life. There was something he would not say. A disagreement that had never been settled, perhaps. Now there was no time to discover it, however. She needed him and couldn’t risk offending him.

When the carriage rolled to a stop before the front steps, Rothwell climbed out and then extended his hand to her.

Her butler, Mr. Piper, appeared almost instantly, hastily rushing to greet them in the drive. “My lady?”

Arabella set her hand in Rothwell’s and joined him. There was nothing like returning to the place you feel most comfortable. Despite how she must appear in the company of a strange man, she grinned at her butler to assure him she was exactly where she wanted to be. “Did I catch you unawares?”

He peered hard at her, color draining from his usually ruddy cheeks. “Indeed you did, but I am very glad to see you looking so well. The house is closed up as you requested on your departure, but I’d expected a message a few days ahead of your return so all that could be attended to.”

He turned questioning eyes toward her companions.

She did not want him to misunderstand the reason for her current company. Rothwell had done more for her than she’d dreamed he would want to. She turned to the man still holding her hand, her cheeks warming because his presence always had an impact on her. She owed Rothwell a debt that could never be repaid. “Under normal circumstances I would have sent one, but I wanted to come home. Mr. Piper, you have the pleasure of meeting Lord Rothwell. Farnsworth has sold Winslette to him.”

All the blood drained from Piper’s face. “Sold, you say?”

Rothwell released her hand, his expression growing serious as he appraised the butler with a haughty disdain so unlike his recent countenance. “Nothing changes for your mistress. You will go on in the manner she wishes.”

“It is not that.” Piper rubbed his hand over his face. “Lord Farnsworth is here. He’s looking for Lady Farnsworth. He told us she was missing.”

Arabella glanced at Rothwell nervously. Farnsworth was in
her
home. A place she’d been assured of sanctuary. “He should not be here. The sale was completed, wasn’t it?”

Rothwell rubbed her arms and then shrugged out of his coat and wrapped her in it. “No, he hasn’t the right to be anywhere on the place. Holland, remain with Arabella and do not let her come inside till I say so. Jimmy, you’re with me.”

Arabella caught Rothwell’s arm and kept him with her as the coachman bounded toward the door, rolling up his shirtsleeves. “What do you mean to do?”

He brushed the thumb of his free hand across her cheek gently, the same cheek Farnsworth had struck when she’d refused to do his bidding and marry Parker without complaint. This time the sensation was pleasant. One she would remember fondly forever.

“I intend to teach him the manners he lacks.” A smile grew on his face. “I’m so pleased he decided to trespass. His comeuppance is days overdue. Wait for me and all will be well.”

She let him go and watched his departure anxiously, the coachman and Piper flanking him seeming far too little support. She edged closer to Holland. “He’ll be all right, won’t he?”

Holland might have smiled, but his eyes were filled with concern. “He may claim to dislike the reference, but he is a Ford. He can handle himself in a fight when necessary.”

From within the house came a shout, the crash of wood splintering, and then a long silence. Arabella craned her neck but could see nothing through the open doorway.

When Rothwell finally strode out, his cravat was askew, his breathing hurried, but the look on his face proved he was pleased with events. He reached for his coat without a word and shoved his arms into the sleeves. “The vermin is being removed by a side door as we speak and will be escorted some distance from the house to ensure the fool leaves. I’m sorry about the table. I’ll replace it with whatever your heart desires.”

Arabella bit her lip as he smoothed his waistcoat and straightened his cravat. The fool grinned. She could not believe he could smile at a time like this. If not for Rothwell’s escort, she would have faced Farnsworth again and alone. She buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with relief to have gone to Rothwell for aid in the first place.

After a long moment, Rothwell’s arms slowly encircled her and tightened about her. “He will not bother you ever again, I swear. You will never need to see him.”

When released, she glanced around swiftly, aware that there were servants around them and they had viewed her behavior. To her surprise, not one faced her. They had all turned away. “Thank you.”

Recalled to their audience too, Rothwell’s posture stiffened. “Holland, see to the carriage and have everything ready for our return to London.”

A rush of panic seized Arabella. For the whole of the trip she had not thought of what would happen next. She wasn’t prepared to let Rothwell go just yet. In the distant carriage house, servants could be seen rushing to hitch the horses to ensure Farnsworth’s immediate departure. But what if Farnsworth returned tonight while she was sleeping? The idea of it brought on panic. She couldn’t face him ever again. She grabbed Rothwell’s hand and held it tightly. “Surely you wish to inspect the property you purchased,” she blurted out, purely as a means to delay his departure.

Rothwell glanced around, eyeing his new possession and then the distant carriage house. He nodded slowly. “I should like that.”

Holland edged closer. “Are you not forgetting those matters in London that required all your attention before, and the other one to be attended to on our way there?”

“There is plenty of time to accomplish it all.”

Were they speaking of the special license or something else entirely? She had a nagging feeling something was to be done when she wasn’t around. The sense of exclusion grated on her nerves. Given the aggravated expression on Rothwell’s face, he didn’t want to discuss it before her. But to make use of the special license, Rothwell would have to marry before the march of time made it worthless. He had a month, or so she believed, but she did not know when the license had been issued.

To her surprise, Rothwell took her arm and threaded it through his. He led her toward the front door. “I would be very happy to have a tour if you can spare me an hour.”

It would take quite a bit longer than an hour to view the property properly. Arabella quickly tallied a list guaranteed to keep Rothwell occupied and with her for as long as possible. He should have an intimate knowledge before he left. He would probably be hungry too. Besides, any good hostess would see his appetites were fully catered to.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It might be wishful thinking on his part, but Merrick was almost certain Arabella sought to delay his departure and keep him at Winslette until approaching nightfall made traveling impossible. He poked his head inside a milking shed, noting the care and attention made to keep the stalls clean, and faced Arabella again. She gestured to the next structure and moved in that direction.

Their progress was steadily leading him far away from the house and his waiting carriage. Not that he minded spending even more hours in her company. Speaking with an intelligent woman who never once tossed out lures or flirtations was something of a rarity. And she’d been through a lot in the last days. If she felt safe in his company for the time being, he would be a fool to rush away from her if he was doing some good.

Back at the house, Holland would be fretting by now. They’d sent word to their married half sister to expect them tonight at her inn, and Holland simply hated letting anyone down. However, Merrick found the position he was in quite amusing. When he’d decided to return Arabella home, Holland had insisted on coming to act as a chaperone of sorts and to make good on a promise to their sister. Since Arabella had never once made allusions to intimacies between them, a chaperone hadn’t been necessary.