Page 14 of Seven Swans a Swimming

Why do they not want me to know where Nathaniel is? And then the answer came to her; it was so obvious, she wondered why she had not considered it before. Wasn’t it clear?

Lord Nathaniel had a mistress. It was the only answer. No wonder he was always late to be here, why he avoided her presence, why he did not wish to consider the possibility of matrimony.

Perhaps he wished to wed this young lady, Arabella thought wildly as Lady Cartier murmured something about being very busy.

Yes, busy, Arabella thought with a wry smile. That is one word for it.

For some strange reason, the realization that Nathaniel was in love with another slightly calmed Arabella’s pained heart. Yes, it was a slight snag in the plans for their betrothal and eventual marriage, but at least it was not personal. Not personal to her, at any rate.

Why, any Fitzroy sister could have arrived, even Lucy who was considered by many to be the prettiest, and Nathaniel would have been equally unimpressed with her appearance.

The thought gave Arabella hope. He could not marry this woman, whoever she was, of that she was certain. If Lord and Lady Cartier approved of the harlot, they would have announced that engagement already, written to her father to break off their agreement.

So, they did not approve of the mistress. And that meant, in time, Nathaniel could learn to approve of her.

“—somewhere about here,” Lady Cartier said vaguely, waving an arm about. “You know, I must say how pleased I am that our families will be united.”

“Yes, yes, very pleased,” said Lord Cartier hastily, jumping onto the topic eagerly.

Arabella looked between them. She was not sure how the two older people could possibly believe, at this moment, that the marriage was going ahead. Had they not heard their own son speak so disparagingly of the match only yesterday?

“You do me great honor,” she said awkwardly, hardly knowing what to say.

“Yes, it was planned so long ago, and now the time is finally here,” said Lady Cartier with a smile. “At least, almost here. I agree with your mother, June is such a wonderful time for a wedding.”

“Though if we need to make it…I don’t know, an autumn wedding,” said Lord Cartier with some unease and a meaningful look at his wife.

Arabella looked between the two of them. Why could they not just say it? Why could they not admit to her that the meeting between herself and Nathaniel had certainly not gone to plan, and now the entire wedding was up in the air?

“Well, we shall have to see what Lord Nathaniel thinks,” Arabella said brightly. She would not let them see how upset last night’s dinner had made her. She would not permit anyone to see how alone she felt in this large, rambling house. “I suppose I will see him this morning?”

Lady Cartier hesitated just a little too long before saying slowly, “I am sure if you just meandered the grounds, or the house…”

And so that is what she did. Arabella spent the next two days meandering through the grounds, looking—not precisely hunting, but looking—for her betrothed.

The woodland scenery was beautiful. Wintery light fell softly through the bare branches, and a few times, Arabella spotted deer grazing just ahead. She would halt, watching her breath billow up before her in the cold winter air, and gaze at the elegant animals until a twig cracked, or a bird flew past singing its warning call, and they would be gone.

The house was beautiful. Oxcaster Lacey, one of the maids told her, had been built during Queen Elizabeth’s reign and had been left almost intact since then. There were many beautiful rooms, a Long Gallery with the most splendid portraits, and even a library that occupied a whole corner of the house, huge windows pouring onto the many books.

But it was the lake that drew Arabella most often. In the hours that she was left alone, wandering around in an attempt to find a gentleman who was so clearly avoiding her, the lake offered a sense of peace that she was missing.

On the third day of her visit, Arabella stood by the lakeside, the swans swimming elegantly just before her, all seven of them. She was starting to get to know them now, so many hours of hers had been spent here.

“Hello,” she whispered, more to have the excuse to speak aloud than anything else. Conversation was in short supply at Oxcaster Lacey.

Arabella sighed. It was not that she was upset by the idea that Nathaniel had a mistress, not exactly.

So many gentlemen had mistresses; it had almost become the fashionable thing to do in London. Arabella had overheard Lady Romeril once say that Mr. Fitzroy, her father, was most unfashionable by refusing to take one, which had made her smile.

But it was certainly not unheard of, and Arabella was old enough to know that one’s affection for a mistress, particularly before one had married, said nothing about the affection of one’s wife.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Why there was a twist in her stomach every time the word “mistress” echoed in her mind, or why her heart contracted painfully whenever she thought that Nathaniel had shared with another that exquisite pleasure she had thought promised to her…she could not say.

Arabella swallowed and tried to forget the knot in her stomach as she watched the beautiful birds swim by her.

She was not upset.

She was lonely. Living in a…well, her father would call it a “compact” house with six sisters and then, after two marriages, four sisters meant Arabella was far more accustomed to noise, shrieks, laughter, arguments, and general busyness than she had ever realized.

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