Page 25 of Wickedly Yours
Malden gave a weary nod towards the sideboard. “Do you mind?”
“As long as you pour me another as well.” He held out his glass, wondering why Malden wasn’t defending himself against the accusation of ruining Arabella. Or running from the premises at the thought of a betrothal.
Malden took the glass from Nick’s outstretched hand and moved towards the decanter of whiskey. He passed Arabella and somewhat deliberately did not look at her. After pouring each of them two fingers of the dark amber liquid, Malden settled himself in a chair.
“How would you like me to begin?” Malden seemed unconcerned with being interrogated by the Devil of Dunbar.
“Thetonis rife with speculation about you and my sister.” Nick growled back at him. He’d long suspected Malden was not at all the delightful scamp he appeared to be. He certainly wasn’t if he had the slightest interest in Arabella, which Nick was beginning to think was the case.
Malden didn’t flinch, but he downed his whiskey in one swallow. “Your sister was an unwilling victim of Corbett. He kidnapped her somewhere outside of Camden, I think.”
That much Nick knew from Aunt Maisy. “Wereyou unwilling, Bella?” He peered at his sister over the rim of his glass.
“Of course. I didn’t go with him of my own accord. Don’t be ridiculous. He tore my dress. I had to stab him with a fork to protect my virtue.” Her voice and fingers trembled as she spoke. His sister looked on the verge of tears, something that rarely happened.
“Go up to your bath, Bella.” He watched as her features contorted in protest. “You and I will discuss things tomorrow.” Taking pity on her, for he did love her dearly no matter their estrangement, Nick stood and enveloped her in a warm embrace, kissing her temple. “I am glad you are safe. I would not wish for anything to happen to you.”
Arabella clung to him, shaking, and began to sob quietly into his coat, like the lost child she had been and likely still was. “I am truly sorry, Nick. For all of it.”
“All will be well, Bella.” The tears frightened Nick. Arabella was well and truly distraught by her adventure. Gently he pushed her towards the door to the waiting Peabody, nodding for the butler to take her upstairs. Shutting the doors to the study he turned to face Malden. “Start with how you found my sister.”
17
“Are youmad?”
Nick smiled slyly over his cup of tea, set it down and proceeded to tear into a rasher of bacon. He was starving and he loved bacon.
“I would like the answer to that as well.” Jem, in the presence of her barely tolerated sister-in-law, looked ready to attack him with the pot of honey sitting next to her plate.
Snatching another piece of bacon, Nick crunched away. “I’ve spoken at length with Malden. He and I are in agreement. The scandal is monumental. I would not have my sister become a pariah nor have you upset in your condition.”
“I was not aware how fragile you thought me.” Jem slathered honey on a scone, the pastry crumpling beneath the pressure of her knife.
“This entire conversation is ridiculous,” Arabella spat.
“Bella, your name has found its way into the betting book at White’s. The odds are four to one that you bewitched poor Malden and he came to his senses too late. No one can believe he ran away with you of his own volition.”
“Because hedidn’t.” A hurt look passed over her face.
“There are three to one odds I’ve threatened Malden’s life should henotmarry you.”
“What about the scandal if I go mad and murder my husband?” Arabella turned back to him, a snarl on her lips. “I can barely tolerate his company for the measure of a coach ride and you expect me to endure Malden for a lifetime?”
Jem slammed her knife down on the table making the footman behind her jump. “You ungrateful—”
Nick held up his hand. “My love, please. It is apparent that your family has a penchant for rescuing mine.”
He waited for Arabella to launch into a tirade about Jemma’s treasonous father but surprisingly, she did not. Her hands were clenched tightly against her sides, probably to keep herself from pummeling Jem.
“I will not do it. I will not marry Rowan.”
Nick raised his brow at Malden’s given name, doubting his sister realized she’d used it. He also doubted she was indifferent to Malden. “You will, sister, else you find yourself scandalized and sent back to Twinings. Perhaps you like Wales.”
Arabella’s face fell. “No, I beg you. Please do not send me back there again.”
“Can we not,” Jem had picked up her knife again, “just say that a mistake has been made with assurances from both parties that nothing improper occurred?”
Good Lord his wife was frightening when she had a weapon in her hand. It was incredibly arousing. “You, more than anyone, know what gossip does to a woman’s reputation. And this is London, not Bermuda. Far worse. Also there is the matter of Corbett and his death. I would prefer no one go looking too closely at whatactuallyhappened at that inn.”
