Page 29 of Wickedly Yours
He would have married me as I agreed.What would her friend think if she told Miranda the truth? “Yes, I am grateful as well.”
“Did you know Rowan has been a frequent dinner guest of ours? He’s helping Colin with some recommendations on how to modernize Runshaw Park. Colin is in dire need of direction. There is so much to be done at the estate.” Miranda waved her hands about as she spoke. “Just the other night he visited to discuss wool of all things. Well, I suppose Colin can give an educated opinion on such since he helped run his Uncle Gerald’s sheep farm. At any rate I missed most of the conversation as a box of books had just been delivered. A surprise for me from Thrumbadge’s Booksellers from my darling husband. Did I ever tell you that I have a very soft spot for Lord Malden? He would always dance with me when no one else dared approach me. Because of theincident.” Miranda had lowered her voice. “Though now that I’m married I—”
“Miranda.” Arabella came to a complete stop. “Would you like to know the remainder of the story or will you continue to chatter on?” Her friend had an endearing and somewhat annoying habit of prattling endlessly, her conversation madly jumping from one topic to the next.
“Oh yes. Quite right.” Laughter floated out of Miranda’s lips. “I do apologize. I’m just so happy to see you and know you are unharmed. I’ve missed you dreadfully.”
Arabella squeezed her friend’s arm. “I’ve missed you as well.” Since her return to London, this was the first opportunity Arabella had to speak to Miranda privately. She’d thought to confide her shame to her friend. Tell her she’d agreed to go with Corbett out of some misguided idea of revenge. But looking at Miranda’s happy face, so beautiful as the morning sun glinted across her features, Arabella lost her courage. Miranda loved her, true, but she would never understand how Arabella could consider a marriage for revenge.
At the time it seemed like a capital idea. I simply wanted to hurt everyone.
A pair of gentlemen walking together shot Miranda an appreciative glance, but Miranda barely noticed. Gentlemen always stared at Miranda, even with her tarnished reputation she was still one of the most beautiful women in theton. Arabella often felt like the dull brown duckling next to a magnificent swan. Miranda seemed not to care a bit for her looks, or at least didn’t care for the attention they garnered.
As they strolled, arm in arm, along the bank of one of the small ponds along the path, Arabella finally spoke. “I stuck him with a fork, Miranda. And then a knife.”
Miranda did not take her eyes off the path. “I assume you are speaking of Corbett.”
“He tore my dress.” Arabella swallowed, remembering Corbett’s hands on her. The way her skin crawled as he touched her. “Malden told the constablehestabbed Corbett, but it wasme. I didn’t even tell Nick the truth. I had no choice, you see. Corbett’s pistol was pointed at Malden’s head and I couldn’t allow it. I ran at him and pushed the knife into his neck. When I stabbed him, he tripped and fell from the window. I—”
“My poor Bella.” Miranda put her arm around her. “I never met the man, but if anyone deserved stabbing, it was certainly Corbett. Besides, what were you to do? Stand by and allow him to shoot Lord Malden? Don’t upset yourself. You did not kill Corbett. He fell from the window and broke his neck. Afortunateaccident. It is never appropriate to find happiness in another’s death, even when it is deserved. But you had no other choice. I know well of what I speak.”
Arabella nodded. Miranda had faced her own scandal for the shooting of Archie Runyon, her mother’s cousin. She was still whispered about.
“I am never sorry that I shot Cousin Archie. He tormented my family for years. I am also not sorry he is dead. Not in the least.” A shadowed look crossed her lovely face. “I’m glad Lord Malden told the constable that he stabbed Corbett for it would do your reputation no good if it were known you wielded the knife. Society frowns on such antics, though were you a gentleman, they would applaud you. At any rate, in addition to being ruined, you would be deemed slightly mad or dangerous if thetonknew the truth. I should know. You do not need more scandal heaped upon you. Your betrothal is scandalous enough.”
“I’ve a mind to just flee to Scotland, or perhaps go abroad. Maybe I should visit America,” Arabella muttered. “Or perhaps travel the continent. Spence is in India. I could go there.”
“Fleeing London would solve nothing, and your cousin would not welcome your intrusion in India. Besides, you care greatly for your reputation and your family’s honor. Isn’t that what began this whole mess with Corbett?”
Arabella stiffened. “I am well aware of my fault in all that has transpired. And the Dunbar family honor leaves much to be desired.”
Miranda shook her head. “I’m not placing blame, Bella. What’s done is done.”
“This entire situation is ridiculous. I’ve no more desire to marry Malden than he does me, yet we are betrothed. I cannot fathom how Lavinia Woodstock spied us at the inn. My betrothal is now in the betting book at White’s. It’s horrifying.” She’d spent years trying not to draw unwelcome attention and within the space of less than a month Arabella had found herself in a maelstrom of gossip and innuendo. “I’ve not even seen Malden since the night he returned me to my brother.”
A small lie. She had dreamt of Malden, which wasn’t at all like seeing him in person though the effects were the same on her body. Awaking in the middle of the night, her heart would race and her skin prickle as a distinct shameful wetness seeped between her thighs. She could still feel the press of his lips against hers.
“Rowan could not be forced into marrying you should he not wish it.” Miranda’s voice was firm.
Arabella gave a bitter laugh. “Please. Malden is known as an amusing, charming,honorablegentleman. He’s rather perfect for all that he’s a bit of a rake. I’m sure he spends his days considering the cut of his newly tailored coat or losing his fortune at one of London’s finer gambling establishments. He squires his mother and sister about Bond Street like a proper son should.”
“You make him sound quite boring.” Miranda lifted a brow. “The man you describe would not have ridden to your rescue, I’m sure. That man would have sent a constable or bow street runner rather than miss a ball.” She paused, as if unsure how much to say. “Did you know your future husband holds the markers of some of the wealthiest men in London?”
Arabella shook her head and gave a choked laugh. “Surely, you’re joking. Malden?”
“Malden is rich as Croesus, Arabella. Not from gambling, though Colin tells me Malden pretends to be a poor player to catch the other players off guard. He’s made several investments on Colin’s behalf which have nearly doubled in value. I’m not sure why he’s holding so many markers, but there’s several gentlemen who will be ruined if he ever calls them due. He sounds rather ruthless to me. You would be wise to watch your step.”
“I do not think we suit,” Arabella stated firmly.
“I doubt Lord Malden cares for your thoughts on your mutual suitability for apparently he’s made up his mind. Besides, it is much easier to be happy, don’t you think? And you are not indifferent to him.”
Arabella started to throw a scathing denial at her friend when Miranda began waving madly. “Oh look, there’s Miss Lainscott. I must say hello. Come, you must meet her.”
Arabella shook her head. “I think I’d like a moment to gather my thoughts, if you don’t mind. You’ve given me much to consider.” She had no desire to meet Miss Lainscott, at least not today.
“You wish to pout.” Miranda gave a frustrated sigh. “Very well. But you and I will call on Miss Lainscott before I leave for Runshaw Park. The poor girl is in the care of Lady Dobson and any distraction is most appreciated. Perhaps you two will find something in common and become friends.” Miranda hurried over to a slender girl wearing an overlarge bonnet who was waving to her in excitement.
Arabella sincerely doubted Miss Lainscott had any desire to be friends with her, no matter what Miranda imagined. She wandered over to the edge of the pond where the thickness of the trees increased and leaned against a large oak tree, bending her head back to look up into the canopy of leaves above her head. Taking off her gloves, she ran her fingers over the gnarled trunk of the oak, enjoying the roughness beneath her hand. Marriage. She’d always thought if she did marry, it would be to some elderly gentleman who would only require Arabella to do her duty in providing an heir and then leave her alone. Someone she would see on holidays and perhaps during the Season but nothing more.
