Page 75 of Wickedly Yours
“My lord.” Parker appeared out of nowhere.
“How do you do that, Parker?” Rowan greeted his valet over his shoulder. “Popping up whenever your name is whispered. Where do you hide when I am not in residence?”
A slight frown crossed Parker’s lips. “A good valet anticipates his employer’s needs, my lord. I’ll have a bath prepared.”
“Ssh.” Rowan snapped as a sound came from Arabella’s room. “And my evening clothes. I’ve a wife to find and a ball to attend.” Could Oberon have been wrong? Was Arabella hiding in her room?
Leaving Parker sputtering at being shushed, Rowan placing his hand on the knob, throwing open the door with a bang.
Edith, Arabella’s lady’s maid gave a cry of alarm. Wet towels dropped from her outstretched arms. “Lord Malden.” She hastily dipped into a curtsy. “Begging your pardon, my lord. We didn’t expect you home.”
“I neglected to send word in my haste to return.” He looked down at the wet towels. “Where is Lady Malden?”
“I—” the maid stuttered.
Rowan’s heart caught at Edith’s hesitation. Dear Lord, Arabellahadtaken a lover. A growl came from him and the maid stepped back. “Whereis she?”
“Lady Marsh is hosting a ball tonight, my lord.” The maid reddened.
“Yes, I’m aware, for my sister.”
“Begging your pardon, my lord, but Lady Malden’s gone looking for you. At your sister’s celebration.”
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Rowan strode through his mother’s ballroom ignoring the curious glances and quiet whispers his appearance garnered. He imagined his mother had gleefully spread the news around London of her son’s separation from Arabella so soon after the wedding and a potential annulment which would result. Not even the damage to his manhood would deter her.
Mother would be disappointed.
Lord and Lady White hovered about in the ballroom, Lord White watching him with avarice. Gwendolyn, possibly tired of Rowan’s constant rejection, looked away as he passed by.
But there was no sign of Arabella. Perhaps Edith had misunderstood her plans?
“There you are.” Petra breezed towards him, pale blue skirts fluttering behind her. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your fun, playing with trains and such.” Petra smiled up at him looking beautiful with her glossy blonde hair pulled up into a series of ringlets to frame her face.
Rowan smiled down at his sister. “It’s your birthday. I dared not disregard such a momentous event. I’m sure Mother has the entire evening choreographed to her satisfaction. Mother wrote me she’s certain Dunning will offer for you tonight.”
Petra shrugged in a careless manner. “Dunning is not my preference. He’s nice enough and certainly wealthy, but there’s no spark.” She snapped her gloved hands.
“Spark? Most marriages are based on property, security and status. Rarely are they based on aspark.”
“Yoursis,” Petra replied tartly. “You look at Arabella as if she were an enormous tea cake you wish to devour.”
He regarded his sister in shock. When had Petra become so direct? And so well-versed in such things? “I see Jemma has been influencing you. You’d best not allow Mother to know.” His eyes roamed the room beyond his sister’s shoulder. Where was she?
“I know more than you think. Are you looking for someone?” Petra gave him an innocent look. “You need to direct your gaze just there.” She tilted her head to a darkened corner by the punch bowl.
Bella.
Arabella stood alone and aloof, as she had the first time Rowan saw her. Only tonight her dress was not a pale rose but crimson. She moved slightly and the gold threads sewn into the velvet winked in the candlelight. The ruby he’d bought for her dangled provocatively between the valley of her breasts. The cut of the gown left little to the imagination and he instantly regretted that Arabella no longer favored necklines starting at her chin. With her dark hair piled high atop her head and just a touch of red to her lips, Arabella lookeddecadent. A sensual feast in slippers.
Jesus.His trousers tightened.She’s never wearing that damn dress again in public.
“What will you do?” Petra repeated the question the Duke of Dunbar had asked him not two days ago.
Rowan didn’t answer. “You helped her.” His eyes never left Arabella who had yet to look in his direction. “Why?”
“Possibly.” Petra waved her fan. “I prefer to think of it as helpingyou.” She lay a hand on his arm. “Arabella loves you madly, Rowan. So much so, she is braving Mother, the Whites and half of London to prove it to you. If Jemma can forgive her,youcan. She may always be slightly terrible.” Petra’s lips twisted. “But I suppose that makes her interesting.” Then she added, “I believe she is truly sorry and not unredeemable.”
