Page 13 of A Fake Courtship with the Marquess
Chapter Six
The following afternoon, after the household of the Bowles Estate had awoken, Arabella put the scheme into motion. Her mother had scolded her in the carriage on the way back last night for dancing with Lord Powell, but Arabella could tell her mother had secretly been jealous. Who would not be, after seeing such chivalry offered to one’s daughter?
“Mama, Papa, there is something I would like to speak to you about,” Arabella began, poking at the very late breakfast of coddled eggs and thick bacon that formed a peculiar face upon her plate.
Her father peered out from behind his newspaper. “If you are going to inform us that you wish to elope with Lord Powell, you might as well choke me with those eggs and have me die this moment without having to face the shame.”
“He came to my aid,” Arabella protested for what felt like the thousandth time. “I did not seek him as a partner and would not have danced with him if Lord Haskett had not fled to expel the brandy from his stomach. As you saw, I did not speak with Lord Powell again after the set was finished.”
“Arabella!” her mother barked, waggling a fork in warning. “You will not utter such coarse words about your betrothed. Yes, he imbibed a bit too much, but so would you if you wished to overcome your nerves about seeing your future bride.”
No, I would not, because you would take the drinks away from me.
Arabella held her tongue and shoveled a forkful of eggs into her mouth, in an attempt to quell the churning of her own stomach. Indeed, she wondered if she had already made a misstep by speaking so harshly of Henry’s behavior.
“I am not angry with him, Mama.” She tried to cover herself. “If anything, I am quite the opposite. I felt awful for him, and for my part in his sickness. His nerves were more obvious during our dance, and I fear they played a part in his fleeing the ballroom.”
Her father set down his paper, wearing a curious expression. “You do?”
“Yes, Papa. Lord Haskett is not the boy I remembered.” Arabella put on what she hoped was a fond smile. “He has become… quite wonderful. I was only disappointed that I could not spend more time in his company, due to his poor stomach. I hoped I might venture into London later today, or tomorrow if that is more suitable, to bring him medicine. Seth will be there to chaperone, if you are at all concerned.”
It was her mother’s turn to look curious, as she leaned over the table and clasped her hands together in what appeared to be a hopeful prayer. “You want to take medicine to him?”
“Yes, Mama. I caused his ailment, I should be the one to remedy it,” Arabella replied.
“Is that what you wanted to speak to us about?” Her father sounded dubious.
“Not entirely,” Arabella confessed. “During our wondrous Viennese Waltz, he spoke of having affections toward me. He had seen me last year at Lady Winter’s ball, though I was unaware, and he said he had not stopped thinking of me since. However, I feel I am at a disadvantage, for I know very little of him as the gentleman he has become.”
She could hear the slight tremor in her voice, but hoped it gave the impression of giddiness rather than deceit. After all, she had not discussed with Henryhowthey would convince their parents, so she had to trudge her way through it alone. Not that she was surprised, after last night’s abrupt abandonment.
Her mother nodded slowly. “Go on, Darling.”
“Might we postpone the announcement and the banns until the end of the Season?” It was out of her mouth, and there was no taking it back. “During that time, I would like for Lord Haskett to court me, in a manner befitting any lady and gentleman who hope to have a lasting, loving marriage. He had lamented, last night, that he would not be permitted that ‘heavenly rite,’ as he called it. As we are to marry anyway, surely there can be no harm in a slight delay, for the sake of learning more of one another and enjoying the summer together?”
The air around Arabella thickened with anxiety. Not daring to look up to see her parents’ expressions, she concentrated on her eggs, forking up polite mouthfuls until one of them broke the unbearable tension. Was it such a monumental ask? Would she be heralded as outlandish? Would she be punished for such a suggestion? Or worse, would they see right through the hastily-crafted ruse?
“What do you say, Dear?” Her mother spoke first, casting a thoughtful glance at her husband. “Personally, I see no harm in it. You and I never had a true courtship. We practically met for the first time in the church, and that turned out…” She paused and fiddled awkwardly with her napkin. “Well, it turned out well for us, but that cannot always be true,” she added hurriedly, though it was obvious those were not the words she had intended to say.
It was no secret that Arabella’s mother and father had no love for one another in the romantic sense. A companionship had bloomed over the years, and they were never unkind to one another, but one could not help wondering how much happier they might have been if they had found partners they loved, and who loved them in return.
That is why you must give me this chance. Please.
To Arabella’s intense relief, her father shrugged and returned to his paper. “I have no disagreements, as long as Henry’s father has no qualms.” He peeked over the inky pages to narrow his eyes at his daughter. “He and I are longtime friends, so I trust you will not do anything to jeopardize that?”
It seemed like he suspected something untoward, but her father was not the kind of man to walk on eggshells around a subject. If he thought there was subterfuge afoot, he would demand the truth and not permit Arabella to leave the dining room until he had it. As he was sitting back in his chair, his demeanor relaxed, perhaps he was merely asking the question out of habit, for he rarely allowed Arabella to do anything without making her feel like she had done something wrong.
“Of course not, Papa,” Arabella confirmed, though her stomach clenched at the lie. “I hope you will continue to be longtime friends, as I hope Lord Haskett and I will have a long, contented union.”
Apparently satisfied, her father disappeared behind his paper once more, giving her mother free rein to flap about like a frantic goose.
“You will have to have a chaperone for your journey to London, before your brother takes you into his care,” she said, already making lists in her head. “Cassie will do. I should not have dismissed that last girl, but you made such little use of her. Oh, this is wonderful! Finally, you are venturing into proper Society. Youmustvisit the botanical gardens with him. I hear they are at their most beautiful in the summer.”
She rattled on and on as thoughshewere the one delving into a courtship. Arabella smiled at her mother’s enthusiasm, and dearly wished it was not a ruse. Not because she held any feelings for Henry, but because she could not bear the thought of seeing her mother disappointed, when the Season came to an end and a better match had been found.
I pray you, of all people, will understand why this is necessary. Forgive me, Mama. I had no choice.
* * *
