Page 46 of Wickedly Yours
After the meal was finished, the gentlemen retired to Lord Marsh’s study for a short time to ply Rowan with whiskey or brandy before he and Arabella would leave. Rowan had purchased a handsome town home a short drive away as a wedding gift to her. Having no idea how to proceed with the decorating and furnishing of such a house, Arabella was at a bit of a loss. She would need to consult with her aunt, or possibly Miranda. The polite thing to do, however, would be to consult her new mother-in-law, Lady Marsh, the woman who was actively pretending Arabella didn’t exist.
Miranda’s grandmother, the Dowager Marchioness of Cambourne, came to Arabella’s side to link arms. “Will you walk me in, my dear?” The green eyes were twinkling as she took in the tableau of the Marsh family versus Arabella. As they moved into the drawing room, the Dowager leaned in. “I shouldn’t worry. Lady Marsh would never have approved of any woman Rowan chose without her assistance. She only disapproves of youmore. I’ve never known her to be an unkind woman.” The Dowager’s brow wrinkled in thought. “She’s been a bit overprotective since the death of her eldest son, some years ago. But that is not an excuse for her treatment. Should it continue I will have a word with her.”
Arabella halted momentarily at the Dowager’s words. Rowan had never mentioned an older brother but there was much they hadn’t yet discussed or told each other. “Please don’t worry yourself on my account. Lady Marsh has reason to dislike me and I’m not exactly the match she would have wished for her son.” The Dowager doubtless knew the whole story, as she knew most things. “He did me a good turn and instead of being thanked, he is stuck with me.”
“I do not think he minds.” The Dowager intoned as Arabella led her to a large chair dominating the room. “Nor do I think you are distraught at having to marry that handsome scamp. Regardless of the circumstances, he is a good match for you.” She squeezed Arabella’s hand and nodded towards Arabella’s hair. “I like this new Arabella. You no longer look as if you’re sucking on a lemon.”
Arabella felt the slight touch of the dowager’s cane against her leg and the curl of her lips stopped.
“Don’t start frowning, I shan’t tolerate it on your wedding day. Now bring me that girl.” The Dowager pointed with her cane at Petra. “I wish to speak to her about her Season.”
Arabella dipped and approached Petra and Lady Marsh. “Excuse me, Lady Marsh, but Lady Cambourne wishes to speak with Petra.”
Lady Marsh clapped her hands, barely glancing at Arabella. “Oh Petra, this is a fortuitous occurrence. Perhaps the entire day won’t be wasted.” She hustled her daughter towards the Dowager without another word to Arabella.
My wedding is a waste of Lady Marsh’s day. How lovely.
Arabella moved to stand at the window overlooking the gardens, pushing out thoughts of her mother-in-law’s rudeness to mull over the words of the Dowager. Was Rowan pleased to have married her? She knew he desired her. Wanted to bed her. He’d never once told her he wished to end their betrothal, though she’d given him many opportunities. And she sensed he enjoyed her company.
Arabella laughed softly under her breath. If anyone had told her months ago she would marry Rowan, she would have snarled something insulting in their direction.ThatArabella, the one whose bitterness seeped through every pore, still lingered just below the surface. She tried to keep her contained, although in the face of Lady Marsh’s dislike, it was becoming increasingly difficult. She gave a pleasurable sigh as she looked out amongst the flowers and trees, realizing that she would tolerate all of Lady Marsh’s ill-mannered sputtering for Rowan.
I am well and truly bound to him.
Guilt washed through her. The horrible lie she’d told about her kidnapping hovered around her as she repeated her vows. She’d been acutely aware she’d nearly spoken those same words to another man. A man whom she would have married for revenge. The lie threatened her current state of unexpected joy, the tiny seed of which was nurtured with every caress or teasing word from Rowan.
It was hard to believe she could be happy.
A bird fluttered about the rose bushes, soaring into the air and then dipping back down. She watched the bird for some time until it flew off, frightened off by something that even now shook the rose bush. Probably a cat. Arabella had seen a large tabby roaming the dining room while they ate.
Arabella clasped the sill of the window in a death grip, a sickening ball of fear forming in her stomach. It was not a cat but something far more predatory lurking in the Marsh garden.
Barker, looking less scruffy than he had at Gunter’s, stood by the rose bush. It was clear by his stance he saw her at the window. With a flick of his wrist and a nod, he made his meaning clear. She was to meet him in the garden.
Arabella shook her head in refusal.
Barker shrugged and took a step towards the house, looking at her with a question on his coarse features.
Her mouth went dry, imagining Barker interrupting the wedding party. She snuck a look at the women chattering madly in the room. Miranda was still waving her hands about, clearly entertaining Jemma, Alex and Aunt Maisy with one of her stories. The Dowager held the rapt attention of Lady Marsh and Petra, both hanging on the older woman’s every word. She supposed it should have bothered her, to see that everyone had forgotten her presence, but Arabella was grateful. She would handle Barker once and for all.
Moving towards the door, Arabella’s hand fell to the knob. She turned and mumbled to the room that she wished to take some air.
Aunt Maisy looked up at her, smiling brightly. “Do you wish me to go with you?”
Her aunt was overly concerned Arabella needed her council on what to expect from the marriage bed. She was probably hoping her advice was needed even though Arabella told her quite firmly, she was not in need of direction.
“No. I just need a bit of air.” She gave her aunt a firm look.
Aunt Maisy gave a wistful sigh and returned to Miranda’s conversation.
Arabella strode quickly out to the terrace and down the steps leading into the garden. Moving as far away from the large windows facing the garden as possible, she sought out a bench positioned at the furthest edge and behind a hedge of flowering myrtle and sat. She prayed no one would come looking for her, ears alert for any sound of footsteps on the gravel path. Afraid and incensed Barker would come here and invade her wedding, she became more determined to rid herself of the former groom.
“What a lovely bride you are, Lady Arabella. I stopped by in hopes I could congratulate you on your wedding day.”
Barker stood directly behind her, his fetid breath causing her nose to wrinkle in distaste. She kept perfectly still, her voice low and quiet, her hands clasped on her lap as if she were contemplating the serenity of the garden. “What do you want? I’ve given you all the money I have.”
He leaned closer and Arabella shrank away as he whispered in a guttural tone, “not true. Your brother’s a duke. You’ve more money than I could spend in a lifetime.” He looked down at her hand. “That’s a lovely bauble.”
Arabella immediately covered the ring Rowan had just placed on her finger with her hand. “Are you insane? What would I say to my new husband should I return from a turn about the garden without my wedding ring?”
