Authors: Anne Herries
'Oh, it is nothing that causes him pain,' Lady Spencer replied. 'Merely a weak constitution. He must be careful not to take a chill for his chest will not stand it – but otherwise…' She shrugged. 'But he makes nothing of it and so we all do our best to forget it.'
Arabella nodded, sensing that Lady Spencer had a true fondness for her husband despite the difference in their ages. She kissed her hostess goodnight, thanked her for a pleasant evening and went into her own chamber.
Later, when she was lying somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, she wondered what her cousin would say if she knew that Lady Spencer was entertaining the man she had forbidden Arabella to see. It was odd that she had sent Arabella here rather than to her mother's elderly cousin.
Still pondering the reason for Lady Mary's change of heart, she fell asleep to dream of a man who told her that she was his heart's desire.
* * *
'And when do you expect to leave for the country?' Jack Meadows asked as he yawned over his wine. 'Forgive me…dashed tired. Late night, don't you know? Or early morning…' He grinned at Gervase. 'Don't want me to come with you I suppose, keep you company?'
'It is merely business,' Gervase replied. 'You would be bored, my friend. Besides, I do not intend to remain long from town.'
Jack nodded, his eyes intent beneath the lazy lids that implied disinterest. It had not been lost on him that Gervase had been restless of late – ever since Mistress Tucker left town, which was over a week now.
'Only business?' he asked. 'I thought you visited your estates a couple of months ago?'
Gervase frowned, slightly annoyed by the other's intrusion into his private affairs. He was not yet ready to speak of his plans – even to Jack, who had been privy to most of his thoughts for some years now.
'My cousin Maggie wants some advice,' he said not quite truthfully. 'As you know, Spencer could die at any moment and with no heir the estate will pass to a distant cousin. Maggie wants to be sure that she will be well provided for – without asking her husband.'
'Surely that was all sorted in the marriage contract?' Jack sensed that Gervase was being evasive and pressed the thorn deeper into his side. 'Where was it you said Mistress Tucker had disappeared to?'
'To stay with a friend of her cousin's I believe,' Gervase replied with a harsh look for the other. 'Sometimes you presume too much, Jack – and this is one of those times. Mind your own damned business!'
Jack laughed good naturedly, for he had gained the information he needed without it actually being spoken of. 'Delighted, Gervase,' he murmured wickedly. 'I don't blame you one little bit – the beauty is well worth a little trouble. Besides, I didn't believe all that nonsense about her and Sylvester anyway.'
'I believe I know who started the rumour,' Gervase replied, a grim line to his mouth. 'If I knew for sure – but there is no point in making more trouble. Should I decide to ask Arabella, and should she accept, the rumours will cease at once – or I will want to know the reason why they continue.'
'No one would believe them if you married her,' Jack said. 'Your feelings for Sylvester are well known – though not your reasons for hating the man. They remain a mystery to most…'
'And must remain so,' Gervase said, frowning once more. 'Sylvester has fifty creditors after him and will not dare to show his face in London for months if not years. If he does he will be arrested and thrown into prison.'
'So you finally ruined him,' Jack said, a shiver running down his spine. 'There were times when I thought you had almost decided to let him go…that you had lost your taste for revenge.'
'Did you?' Gervase's eyes were cold as ice. 'Then you were mistaken. I have made an end to it.'
'Yes,' Jack agreed. But was it because of the old tragedy – or because Sylvester had come close to ruining another innocent girl? Jack had his own opinion on the matter, which he was wise enough to keep to himself.
'Then I shall bid you adieu,' Jack said, heaving himself from his chair. 'I look forward to hearing of you soon, Gervase. Good news I hope.'
Gervase lifted his brows but made no reply. He had not been certain before Arabella left town, but her going had left a surprising hole in his life and he had realised that the wench had come to mean more than he had ever thought possible. It seemed that the only way to have her was to marry her, and he had reluctantly decided that he must follow her sooner than he had planned.
He had thought a month or so in the country would give her time to reflect on her life as it was and as it might be with him, and yet he had still hesitated over asking her to wed him, still hoped he might gain her as a mistress. She was not his equal in birth, for he might have looked as high as he pleased, but he had never intended to marry at all and thought himself a fool for contemplating it now.
Arabella was not in love with him. If she consented to take him it would be for the advantages such a marriage might bring her. Was he truly content to take her under those terms?
His pride pricked and he had wrestled with himself for several sleepless nights, but she would not leave him be. His thoughts were constantly of Arabella, and he knew he would never rest until he had bedded her – but what then?
Gervase knew that there was every possibility that she would betray him with another man – perhaps even Sylvester. No, he would put a stop to that, even if it meant getting rid of that rogue. But if not Sylvester then another… A woman who married without love could not be relied on to be faithful. He would be a fool to marry her…
And yet he could not put a very different picture of her from her mind. Sometimes in his dreams she came to him with love in her eyes – but she was not the Arabella he had tormented and teased in London. It was as if he were seeing her some years ahead, seeing a woman who had learned to regret.
Gervase gave himself a little shake. He had been disturbed by feelings he did not understand of late, and snatches of dreams haunted him…dreams that concerned Jack.
No, that was stupid! He put the foolish thoughts from his mind; there was no danger for his friend or for Arabella and these premonitions that came to him in the dark hours were merely a part of the black moods that had always descended on him from time to time.
It was his fault for dithering! He ought to have spoken to Arabella when she was here in London. If he wanted her then he must marry – otherwise he must forget her now, but he knew that he could not forget her.
Gervase laughed ruefully as he came to his decision. He had taken so much time to make up his mind to ask her, and when he did so she would very likely refuse him. He was a fool and no doubt he would regret this decision one day, but now that it was made there was no point in delaying. He would go down Bristol in the morning.
CHAPTER SIX
'How long do you mean to torture me this way?' Harry demanded as he pressed Arabella against the trunk of an ancient oak. 'You know that I adore you, Bella. You must know that you haunt my dreams. I cannot sleep for wanting you.'
Arabella laughed up at him. She had enjoyed herself hugely this past ten days or more, setting Harry and John Carstairs against each other, for she knew that Harry was jealous.
'You torment yourself, my lord,' she murmured wickedly. 'You know that I love only you.'
'Then why will you grant me no more than a few kisses? I burn for you, Bella. I cannot think of anything but lying with you.'
'Oh, Harry… do you truly love me so much?'
'You know I do.' He sighed and pulled a face at her. 'Damn it! I will marry you if I must.'
'You
will
marry me?' She felt her resolve melting as he pushed the bodice of her gown lower, his mouth seeking and finding her nipples, which were peaked with desire. 'You swear it, Harry – on your honour?'
He sensed that she was near to capitulation. 'I swear…I swear…' he muttered, pushing her back against the tree. His hand moved down her skirt, bunching it up, reaching beneath it, hands searching for an finding that moist centre of her femininity.
'So hot…so wet,' he muttered greedily against her breasts. 'I knew you were ready for me. You want it as much as I do…'
Arabella was vaguely unhappy with this speech, but she was too far gone to resist him now and she made no further protest as he bore her to the ground. Then he was parting her legs, probing with his fingers before mounting her. She felt the warmth and hardness of his member pressing against her inner thigh before he suddenly thrust into her, and she gave a little cry.
Her cry was muffled by his mouth on hers, his tongue inside her mouth, exploring hers, his possession of her greedy and urgent. Yet she was as eager for his loving, responding freely, giving herself to him, holding him to her as he spilled himself inside her.
For a few moments he lay heavy upon her, then he rolled on to his side and drew her with him in a comforting embrace, whispering words of love into her hair as he kissed her.
'I was too hasty,' he murmured, a note of apology in his voice. 'I have wanted you too long, my sweet. Will you forgive me? I promise to be more considerate next time.'
Arabella would have forgiven him anything at that moment. She
had
felt a sharp, tearing pain for a moment, but the pleasure of loving was all that mattered to her. She wished only that it might have gone on for much longer and told him so, which made Harry give a shout of laughter and begin to caress her breasts once more.
This time he was more considerate, lingering over each stage of his lovemaking and when he entered her again, she gasped with pleasure. His thrusts were measured, slow and deep, making her writhe beneath him, the exquisite sensation mounting until she felt tears of joy on her cheeks. She had never known she could feel this way. If she died now it would not matter for she had experienced paradise on earth.
It was a long time later that Harry helped her brush the debris from her gown and tidy herself.
'Oh, what do I care if anyone guesses,' Arabella cried, her eyes like stars as she laughed up at him in her new confidence. 'I belong to you now, Harry. No one can part us. We shall marry soon, shan't we?'
'As soon as I can find sufficient funds to provide for you,' he promised. At that moment he was reckless enough to promise her anything. 'I adore you, my sweet. We shall be married, but you must be patient for a while – and this must be our secret.'
'Why, Harry? I am sure my father would offer us a home with him. Nan paid his most pressing debts, and with you to manage the estate for him we would get by.'
The last thing Harry wanted was to be buried in the country with a wife and father-in-law to support, but he was wise enough not to tell her that for the moment.
'It was Roxbourne's fault that I had to leave town in a hurry,' he said bitterly. 'The man hates me, though I swear I do not know why. I must find a way to settle some of my debts before I can return – but my uncle may help me. If he thinks I am ready to do my duty and settle at last.'
'Will you write and tell him that we are to be married?'
'Of course, Bella,' he replied, smiling as he lied. He had no intention of telling his uncle about her, though he might write some other news to his wealthy relative. However, he was not about to let this prize slip through his fingers too soon. When he'd had his fill of her he would put his plans into action, but for the moment he intended to enjoy her as often as he could. 'Trust me, my sweet. You know I adore you. Keep our secret until I have my uncle's blessing, that is all I ask.'