Page 158 of Harpy of the Ton
At that moment, the door opened, and Mrs. Folds entered, followed by two young girls each carrying a tray bearing a tea set and an array of cakes and sweets.
“Heavens!” Mrs. Trelawney said. “Is all that for us?”
“It is, ma’am. Seein’ as you’ve brought a friend with you, I thought he might be deservin’ of something a little special for his first visit to the Crown. We like to keep our patrons happy.”
Mrs. Trelawney glanced at Lawrence and smiled, her gaze softening.
“Yes, Mrs. Folds,” she said. “I had my doubts at first, but I believe Mr. Baxter deserves to be happy. And we’ll do what we can to ensure that he is.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Bella looked upinto a pair of clear gray eyes, filled with love.
“My Bella…”
She tilted her head back, offering her lips, while she moved her hands across her body. Her fingers lingered on her breasts—the silken skin with the little buds at the center that beaded as she flicked them with her thumb. Then she moved her hands lower, toward the downy curls that were already damp with need.
“Lawrence…”
Relishing her wantonness, she moved her fingers slickly against herself. Any moment and he’d kiss her and whisper wicked words while he slipped inside her.
But the moment never came.
She opened her eyes to find herself alone, in her chamber at Ilverton Manor.
A clock struck in the distance, seven notes in succession, and she pulled back the bed sheets and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, then froze.
A small patch of blood was visible between her legs.
The door was knocked upon, and, her cheeks warming with shame, Bella lowered her night rail then leaned forward, drawing in a deep breath to fight the swell of disappointment.
The knocking came again.
“Lady Arabella?”
“Come in, Connie.”
Her maid opened the door. “Oh, Lady Arabella! You’re not up yet. The master’s expecting you to attend him at breakfast. Your aunt was most insistent you be on time, and the breakfast gong will sound any minute.”
Bella cringed at the fear in the maid’s voice. “Forgive me, Connie,” she said. “Be assured I’ll tell His Grace it wasmyfault for being late.”
“That’s right kind of you, Lady Arabella, but there’s no need. I’ve set out your gown. I’ll have you ready in no time.”
Bella stood. The world shifted out of focus, and she stumbled against her maid.
“Steady, Lady Arabella! Are you unwell?”
“N-no,” Bella said, fighting back tears.
“Oh, mercy!” the maid said. “I should have known, but you’ve been away. I didn’t know when to expect it.”
“Expect what?”
“Your…” The maid blushed. “Y-yourmonthly bleed. Shall I tell His Grace your health’s delicate today? Perhaps your aunt can be persuaded to have a tray sent up for you.”
“N-no—please don’t trouble yourself, Connie.”
“It’s no trouble, Lady Arabella. I can get anything you need.”
