Page 55 of Wickedly Yours
She reached out and he stepped nimbly back into the alley holding the package out in a teasing manner.
“Give it to me.” Arabella shot a nervous glance to her waiting carriage. Her footman was busy loading the packages and trading gossip with the driver.
Barker’s lips drew back in approval as she stepped into the narrow alley, probably enjoying her discomfort. He was nicely turned out. A new coat. Shiny, black expensive boots. Had his features not been so coarse, he would have blended in very well on Bond Street. Possibly even been mistaken as a gentleman.
“That’s more like it.” He allowed her to take the package from his hands.
She turned to go but his next sentence stopped her.
“I could shock everyone on Bond Street, all these fancy ladies out for a stroll, with the most interesting story. The tale of how Lady Arabella ended up at that inn. With Corbett.”
Anger swelled within her. She’d given him her earrings. She was finally happy. How she longed for some sort of a weapon to dispatch Barker from her life. He would never stop demanding money from her she realized. Never stop threatening her new life. Must she pay for her sins forever? “I’ll not give you another cent. I’ve confessed everything to my brother and husband,” she lied. “If you approach me again, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your miserable days rotting in Newgate with nothing but the rats gnawing on your toes.”
Barker’s nostril’s flared at her words. “You bitch.”
“So I’ve been told.” She turned swiftly on her heel and strode away, hoping Barker would take her threat to heart and bother her no more. If she heard from him again, she may have to take her cousin, Brendan, into her confidence and ask his assistance.
I should tell Rowan.
Arabella discarded the thought immediately not willing to risk her newfound happiness.
“My lady?” The groom, his Adams apple bobbing nervously, looked over her shoulder to where Barker had been standing. She suspected the lad was rather terrified of her. Rightly so.
“He found this,” she held up the package. “And returned it to me. This is a gift for Lord Malden; have a care in the future with my purchases.” Rather unkind of her but between seeing Jemma and Barker’s unexpected appearance, Arabella wasn’t feeling especially charitable. “I’d like to be taken home now. I’m rather tired.”
The poor groom had paled considerably. “Yes, my lady.”
Once in the carriage, Arabella clasped her hands together firmly and told herself all would be well despite the rising sense of dread she felt.
32
Rowan handed his coat to the waiting footman and took his wife’s arm as they entered Lord and Lady Galspred’s home. As they made their way towards the ballroom, Rowan snuck another appreciative look at Arabella. She was stunning tonight in a gown of deep evergreen trimmed with gold braid. The globes of her breasts rose and fell against the fabric, threatening to flee the tight confines of her bodice. He doubted she had ever worn anything quite so daring. Lust shot through him as he caught a whiff of bergamot in her hair. Even though he’d taken her against the wall of their dressing room just a short time ago, he wanted her again. There was bound to be a deserted alcove or small parlor in this house somewhere where they could disappear for a discreet moment.
He felt the movement of Arabella’s hand against her skirts a sure sign of her agitation. He released her elbow to lace his fingers through hers. “Buck up Lady Malden, it’s only a ball, and a rather small one at that.” While Arabella had become comfortable acting as hostess in their own home for his business associates, Rowan still felt her hesitation at attending larger events, especially without her formerly severe persona at her disposal.
A low hiss came from her lips. An annoyed Arabella was much preferable to one who was nervous.
Rowan chuckled softly. “Be charming.” He said sternly. “And pray try to smile. Just a bit. Not like a crocodile about to devour a child.” Pulling her close, he pressed a light kiss to her earlobe to take the sting from his words.
He and Arabella had not been hiding from theton, but neither had they sought out the company of society. With Miranda gone to Egypt and Lady Cupps-Foster visiting Bath, Arabella’s lack of callers was noticeable. The only invitations she received were for charity teas or luncheons, most of which requested a donation from her. Rowan’s own mother should have called on her new daughter-in-law, but in a breach of etiquette, she had failed to do so. The rest of theton, sensing Lady Marsh’s displeasure, followed suit.
Rowan would deal with his mother later. His tolerance of her behavior was at an end.
Arabella immediately lifted her chin as they approached their hosts, her armor of bored disdain already evident on her face. No one woulddarecut a Dunbar of course, but Arabella still expected the dislike of society. He’d told her several times Lord Galspred and he were old friends. Lady Galspred, a lovely woman whom society adored, would take Arabella under her wing.
“Malden.” Galspred clapped his shoulder.
Rowan smiled. “May I present my wife, Lady Malden.”
Galspred’s eyes roved discreetly over Arabella, paying a bit more attention than Rowan liked to the gentle swell of her breasts. “Lady Malden, a great pleasure to finally meet. No wonder we’ve seen little of Malden. I should not wish to leave you waiting at home either.”
Arabella’s lips tilted. “You are too kind, Lord Galspred.”
“My wife, Lady Galspred.” Galspred turned to a woman next to him wearing powdered blue and a great spray of peacock feathers in her hair. Winnie, as Galspred referred to his wife, was small and delicate, with light brown hair and enormous blue eyes.
Lady Galspred took Arabella’s hand. “Welcome, and congratulations on your wedding, Lady Malden.”
Winnie hadn’t a mean or malicious bone in her body, but neither did she possess an ounce of intelligence. Arabella would swallow poor Lady Galspred in one bite if she became annoyed.
