Arabella (11 page)

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Authors: Anne Herries

BOOK: Arabella
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She tossed her head and walked into the house to be greeted by a smiling Lady Mary.

             
'Ah, there you are, Bella.  Did you happen to see Lord Roxbourne before he left?'

             
'He said goodbye,' Arabella replied crossly.  'He is an impossible man.  He said nothing that would please you, cousin.'

             
'Did he not?'  Lady Mary's expression did not alter.  'Well, I dare say it does not matter.  I have some news for you, Bella.  Instead of sending you to your cousin Rosalind I have decided to send you to a friend of mine.  She lives a few miles outside Bristol and goes into company more than your aunt.  You have been a foolish girl, but there is no need to punish you too harshly – and it may be that you will find a husband there.  They will not have heard that spiteful rumour, which I have done my best to scotch – and who knows?  You may yet return to town as a bride.'  She surprised Arabella by kissing her cheek.  'So do not despair, child.  The blackest hour comes always before the dawn.'

             
Arabella stared at her.  Now
she
was talking in riddles!  It was too much.  First Roxbourne and now her cousin… alarm bells rang.

             
'And who is this lady I am to stay with, ma'am?'

             
'Oh, you would not have heard of her,' Lady Mary said airily.  'She does not come to London much these days, but we were used to be close.  Her name is Lady Margaret Spencer… and I think you will like her.  She is not so very much older than you are yourself.'             

             
Arabella was suspicious. 'Why pray, should this lady be interested in me?

             
'She is a friend.  I told you,' Lady Mary replied.  'Pray do not ask so many questions, Arabella.  Be thankful I have relented and do not make me cross or I may change my mind again!'

 

 

 

Arabella opened her eyes as the carriage jerked to a halt.  Because of various delays due to changing the horses and some damage to a wheel, their journey had taken a day longer than expected.  It seemed that they had arrived at last, however, for when the door was opened and the steps let down, she could see that they were outside a large country house.  It was pretty rather than imposing, with a thatched roof and tiny leaded windows, but rambled over a considerable area in a haphazard way as though it had been added to as the family grew in importance.

             
'I vow I ache all over!' Arabella remarked to the woman who had been hired to accompany her on her journey.

             
Mrs Dunmore was a person of strict morals.  'Respectable and trustworthy,' as Lady Mary had described her.  'Her duty is to escort you safely to Lady Spencer's house – so do not get any foolish ideas into your head.'

             
Arabella was not sure what she meant.  Since she'd heard nothing from Harry Sylvester she thought it unnecessary for her cousin to warn her against doing anything foolish.

             
At times during the journey, Arabella had felt close to weeping; she did not know Lady Spencer and would have preferred to go home to her father.  Indeed, she had written asking his permission, but so far there had been no reply.  She would write again once she was settled.  However, she gave no sign of distress as she was helped from the carriage.

             
There were lights shining from all the windows in the house, and as a footman opened the door to admit Arabella and her companion, she could hear laughter and music.  Her hostess was obviously holding a large party that evening.

             
'Ah yes, madam,' the footman replied as Mrs Dunmore announced them.  'Her ladyship expected you yesterday.  She gave instructions that your rooms should be ready whenever you arrived.  The housekeeper, Mrs Winterbottom, is busy with other guests at the moment – but if you will allow me to show you upstairs…'

             
'Well, really!'  Mrs Dunmore pulled a face at Arabella.  'This is not what I would have expected.'

             
Arabella scarcely heard her.  She had noticed that a young man who had just come into the hall was staring her at, and the wicked gleam in his eyes as they went over her made her first blush and then smile.

             
'Who have we here? He asked, coming towards them.  'Lady Maggie didn't tell me she was expecting a beautiful stranger in our midst.'

             
'Excuse me, sir,' Mrs Dunmore bristled at him.  'We have but this moment arrived after some days on the road and must change.  Come along, Arabella!'  She gave her a little push towards the stairs, obliging her to go ahead.

             
'Arabella…' the young man said and grinned.  'I shall remember you, fair goddess.'

             
Her spirits lifted.  He was not Harry Sylvester, but he was young and handsome – and perhaps her stay here would not be so very unpleasant after all.'

             
She was smiling to herself as she was shown upstairs to a suite of very pretty rooms, which comprised bedchambers for her and Mrs Dunmore, a sitting room and a dressing room for Arabella.

             
'Now this is more like it,' Mrs Dunmore observed with satisfaction.  'Yes, this will do very nicely, Arabella.'

             
'Do you think Lady Spencer expects us to join her this evening?' Arabella asked, listening to the sounds of music and laughter that floated up to her.

             
'I intend to retire as soon as I have had my supper,' her companion replied.  'A tray is to be brought up for both of us – and I advise you to eat something and then go to bed.  You may greet your hostess in the morning when she has more time to see to you.'

             
Arabella made no reply.  She was curious about their hostess and would have preferred to join the company downstairs, but dared not do so without an invitation.

             
She contented herself with looking round her own room after taking off her travelling cloak, and was about to ring for a maid to help her undress when the door of her bedchamber opened.  A young woman came in.  She was a little plumper than Arabella but very attractive with blonde curls and blue eyes that sparkled with good humour.

             
'Oh, how lovely you are,' she said, coming to greet Arabella with hands outstretched.  'Welcome, my dear.  I am delighted to have you here as my guest.'

             
'Lady Spencer?'  Arabella's spirits took a flying leap.  She was immediately drawn to her hostess and felt much better than she had in an age.  'It was good of you to have me.'

             
'Not at all.  We do not often go to town, for my husband is not a well man.'  She looked sad for a moment, as though distressed by Lord Spencer's ill health.  'But William loves company and he will adore you, Arabella.'  She gave a delighted laugh.  'This party was to celebrate your arrival, for we expected you yesterday – will you not come down and join us?'

             
'I should love to, ma'am,' Arabella replied instantly.  'But I fear I am not dressed for the evening – and my gown has become sadly crushed during the journey.'

             
'Oh, no one will mind that,' Lady Spencer replied.  'My friends all want to meet you.'

             
'Mrs Dunmore has retired…'

             
'You do not need her now that you have me,' Lady Spencer declared.  'Come, my dear.  I shall take you down to meet everyone.'

             
Arabella made no further protest for she had longed to meet everyone and did not feel in the least like sleeping.  Any guilt she might have felt at abandoning Mrs Dunmore to a lonely supper was banished by memories of her prim manner and fault finding during the journey.

             
Her heart skipped a beat as she was taken into the large drawing room and introduced to the assembled company.  The laughter and chatter died away as everyone turned curious eyes on her, bringing a faint blush to her cheeks, but then Lady Spencer was introducing her to a bevy of ladies and gentlemen.  They all greeted her kindly, but she saw no sign of the young man who had cast such warm looks at her as she arrived until the first flurry of excitement had died down.

             
It was only after several minutes that four young men came from the direction of what Arabella gathered was the games room, where they had been indulging in some sport.  They all looked warm, as if they had been exerting themselves physically and were greeted with teasing cries.

             
'Pray tell us who won?' someone called out.  'Tell us the truth, Carstairs.'

             
As the men came further into the room, Arabella's heart jerked to a sudden stop and then raced on, beating so fast that she found it difficult to breathe.

             
'Why, Sylvester won, of course,' the young man who had stared at Arabella so earnestly earlier replied.  'Who else?  He always beats us all at tennis.'

             
Across the room Arabella's eyes met those of Harry Sylvester.  For a moment she thought she must be dreaming.  Surely it could not be true?  Harry here this evening!  When she had been thinking they might never meet again.

             
'There she is, the beauty I told you of…' Harry's friend was staring at her again in open admiration.  'What the devil!' He had become aware of something in Harry's manner.  'Never say you know her!  Damn my eyes, Sylvester!  You have the devil's own luck.'

             
Arabella caught her bottom lip with her teeth.  Harry was coming towards her, a gleam of something between amusement and triumph in his eyes.  'Mistress Arabella,' he said.  'I am surprised and delighted to find you here this evening.'

             
'You know each other?'  Lady Spencer looked amazed, then gave a gurgle of laughter.  'How delightful.  Arabella has come to stay with me for some weeks – and how long do you intend to stay with Mr Carstairs, sir?'

             
'Oh, some weeks,' Harry said vaguely and shrugged his shoulders eloquently.  'Until Carstairs throws me out I dare say.'

             
'Which will be instantly if you claim a prior interest in Mistress Tucker,' John Carstairs quipped, coming to stand by Harry's side.  'This fellow has just beaten my friends at tennis, mistress – but I see no reason why he should have you all to himself.'

             
Arabella laughed.  The way Harry was looking at her made her feel excited.  Fate must be on her side to give her this unexpected opportunity.  She had been sent here as a punishment, but now all kinds of possibilities had suddenly opened up.  It would be far easier to meet Harry here than it had been in town!

             
'Oh, I think you should rather ask whether I have an interest in Lord Sylvester,' Arabella said, giving John Carstairs a flirtatious look.  'I choose my own companions, sir.'

             
'That's done for you, Sylvester!' Carstairs chortled, delighted by the reply.  'In that case, will you ride with me tomorrow, Mistress Tucker?'

             
'If Lady Spencer permits,' Arabella replied, glancing at her hostess, who seemed to be amused by the young men's rivalry.

             
'We shall all ride together,' she replied, 'but not tomorrow, gentlemen – the following day at eight.  Tomorrow I want Arabella all to myself.'

             
Carstairs acknowledged her superior claim, but the teasing rivalry went on between Harry and his friend all evening as they competed to bring her wine and to engage her in conversation.

             
There was a far more intimate atmosphere here than there had been in the social gatherings in town, and Arabella found herself enjoying the affair so much that she was sorry when her hostess announced that she and Arabella were about to retire.

             
'No visitors tomorrow,' she decreed.  'But the day after we shall hold open house for anyone who cares to visit…'

             
She linked her arm with Arabella's as they walked up the wide staircase together, smiling at her with the ease of good nature.

             
'We shall have time to get to know one another tomorrow,' she said.  'I dare say you are tired now, and my dear husband will be exhausted, much as he loves to entertain.'

             
Having met Lord Spencer only briefly, Arabella had gained an impression of a gentle rather frail man who adored his young wife and indulged her every whim.  She had no doubt that it was Lady Spencer who loved to entertain her friends, and her husband who remained quietly in the background, watching and allowing her to do just as she wished.

             
'Is Lord Spencer really ill?' she asked now.

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