Page 5 of Wickedly Yours
“Miranda would never do such a thing,” she sputtered.
Corbett gave a careless shrug. “You are regretfully, now all alone.”
The sharp intake of air burned her lungs. Corbett was speaking out loud all the horrible things that plagued Arabella’s thoughts since she had received Miranda’s letter. And as for her brother and Jemma? Twinings had not softened her rage towards Nick and his bride in the least.
“Don’t you long to have revenge upon them all?”
Her eyes snapped to his. “You know nothing of what I want.”
Corbett raised his brow. He did know.
“I propose we marry.” The light blue of his eyes darkened with determination. “It is the perfect solution and we will both have what we want most.”
“You’re joking.” The very idea was absurd. Her hand began to twitch in earnest.
“Not at all. When you look at the whole of it logically, our marriage makes perfect sense.” Corbett’s eyes held a fanatical gleam, but his voice remained smooth. “Think of Jemma’s horror. Your brother will beincensed.”
“Nick will have you murdered in your sleep.” Corbett was right. No one called on her unless she held a tea to discuss one of her charities. She was never asked to dance at the few balls she attended, instead Arabella lingered next to Aunt Maisy for the duration of the evening. But Arabellawashappy for Miranda. In her own way.
“Quite frankly,” Corbett continued in a candid tone, “you’llneverdo better. You are destined for spinsterhood, which wouldn’t be so bad I suppose, if your brother remained unmarried or he married a girl you could actually tolerate. ButJemma? Your part in my mother’s failed scheme to force Jemma back to Bermuda and marriage to me certainly won’t help mend fences.”
“I only told you when Jemma would be in the park. I never—”
Corbett continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “The Duke of Dunbar willneverallow you to inhabit the same space as hisprecious bride. Your brother has made it clear your return to London is temporary.”
“How would you know such a thing?”
You forget, Seagraves and Barker have been part of the duke’s household and servants gossip. Your chambers are already being redecorated. You’ll be sent packing again in no time. I believe a convent in Scotland was mentioned as your ultimate destination. The entire staff is placing bets on where you’ll end up.” Corbett picked a piece of lint of his knee. “Not that it matters where you go. Eventually, no one will even remember the duke has a sister.Especiallynot the duke.”
A sickening sensation filled her, reminiscent of the way she once felt after eating fish that had spoiled. The ache caused her to bend at the waist, her free hand pressed against her stomach. “What a pretty speech, Mr. Corbett. How you flatter me.”
My God.He was right. She would end up like Cousin Millicent. Rotting away in some ancient estate in Wales with no visitors for decades.
“Do you notwantyour revenge? Surely, revenge is a more desirable alternative than quietly agreeing to banishment?” He regarded her thoughtfully. “Or perhaps not. I thought you had more backbone.”
His words had the desired effect and Arabella stiffened. “A marriage of convenience? Or revenge, I suppose?” Her hand twitched mercilessly against her skirts.
“A business partnership of sorts.” Corbett stroked his chin. “Marriage is the only way to ensure you are not subject to the whims of the Duke of Dunbar or his duchess. Wedding me will assure you’ll have freedom. Your own household. You’ll have a husband who gives your sister-in-law fits. You will never have to leave London unlessyouwish it.”
“And what about your whims?” she countered.
A small smile lifted his lips. “Money, of course, is my primary objective. My family’s fortunes, as you can imagine, are in ruin. You, on the other hand, have a very substantial dowry. One of the largest in London. In return, I’ll settle a sum on you and be an absentee husband. I understand that’s the best kind.”
Arabella also had an additional inheritance in her own right, one that would come to her upon marriage, something she would not be disclosing to Corbett. Even if he absconded with every cent of her dowry, she would still be a wealthy woman. Once married, she would have freedom to do as she chose with no threat of being shipped off to Wales again.
“I must be assured that there will be no,” she struggled to find the correct words, “physicalaspect to our marriage. The marriage will be in name only.” Dear God, his proposal actually had merit.
“I’ve no desire to bed you. I expect you are quite frigid.” A toothy grin spread his lips to soften his insult. “Consider us to be…businesspartners. I vow to never cross the door of your bedroom. I do not plan to reside in London at any rate. My presence would be too tempting for your brother. Best I only show my face occasionally.”
“What about my aunt? Our driver and groom?”
Corbett leaned over and took her hand and she resisted the urge to pull free. “No harm whatsoever will come to any of them. Seagraves will simply keep them with the coach for the next day or so. Then he’ll take the horses and ride in the other direction. He’s been well paid to do so. By the time your aunt makes her way to London we will already be wed.”
She thought of her Grandfather cursing the traitor with his last breath, his eyes full of disappointment that Nick had not taken the promised retribution. Bitterness seeped into every corner of her body and she stiffened with righteous indignation. Miranda would soon have a passel of brats around her ankles with little time for Arabella, so what would she care? Aunt Maisy would grow tired of exile with her niece and who could blame her? Nick would never forgive her, but if she married Corbett she would never have to answer to him again. Alarm sounded loudly in her head but Arabella ignored the sense of doom preferring to focus on her indignation and rage. She was not to be trifled with.
“Fine.” She clutched her hands to her lap. “I’ll marry you.”
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