Page 17 of Seven Swans a Swimming

Dear Papa,

Well, I did precisely what you requested, and came to this awful house packed with terrible people who won’t talk to me—and Lord Nathaniel! I do not believe I have had the misfortune to meet anyone so irritating. The man is infuriating. I cannot see a possible way for us to have a civil conversation, let alone a happy marriage.

Arabella looked critically at the paper on the desk before her and sighed heavily. Well, that was probably not a letter she could send. She could hardly imagine her Papa being happy to receive such a letter, and in a way, it was a little unfair.

She thought back to the way Nathaniel had teased her yesterday, the way he had been so rude to her, then so enticing, only to step away from her the moment she realized she wished to kiss him with everything within her.

A shiver rustled up Arabella’s spine.

She did not want to kiss him, she told herself, as she pulled a shawl around her shoulders a little more tightly. She did not. Nathaniel was not a man worthy of her kisses.

Even if it would have been her first kiss.

Arabella’s gaze dropped once more to the letter. She sighed, screwed up the paper, and dropped it into the wastepaper basket beside her.

She would have to at least try to be a little calmer when it came to writing something to her Papa. He would be expecting her letter any day now, especially as they were getting closer to Christmas.

Wishing she had better news to share, Arabella picked up her pen once more, dipped it in the ink, and tried again.

Dear Papa,

Well, I did precisely what you wanted. I came to Oxcaster Lacey just as you said, and I have been very careful to be polite and kind as you and Mama have raised me. I have been sure not to disgrace you with my conduct.

Arabella hesitated. Well, she just about managed to keep her tongue in check. Perhaps not entirely. But she had done better than what she had wanted to do, which was scream at Nathaniel from the rooftop.

Lord and Lady Cartier are very kind and welcoming to me and have been magnificent enough to give me my own suite in Oxcaster Lacey, which I like very much, though it is a little strange to be so far from the rest of the family.

She did not mention the long, empty corridors, the sense that the house was half empty, nor the fact that she had not yet managed to make her way down to breakfast without getting lost. She did not wish to appear a complete fool.

The gardens are pretty enough, although I believe they would be simply splendid in the summertime. I like the lake the best, where I often watch seven swans a swimming, as though they had not a care in the world.

Unlike me, Arabella thought bitterly.

It was no use. She could not continue on with the letter without mentioning just how difficult Nathaniel was; she would be doing her Papa a discredit if she attempted to lie to him. Besides, he would see through any lies immediately. He knew her too well.

But how precisely to do it? There was no kind way to put it, but he was a cad. A cad! No gentleman would speak to her that way.

A clock chimed just behind her. Arabella glanced around and saw it was half past twelve. It would be luncheon soon, and she would be expected to find her way to the dining room. A seemingly impossible feat.

But first, she must finish the letter.

I think it only fair to tell you, Papa, that I have been incredibly disappointed in Lord Nathaniel Cartier. His manners have not been what they ought, and he has not made me feel welcome at all.

To the contrary, Lord Nathaniel has made it perfectly clear he would prefer our engagement, such as it is, to be broken off.

And I must say I agree with him. I know you and Lord Cartier made the match with the best of intentions, but you could not have known just how abominable that man—I will not call him a gentleman—is.

So please, Papa. Write soon, and tell me that I am forgiven, and that the whole thing will be called off.

And Happy Christmas, from your affectionate daughter,

Arabella F.

Arabella looked at the letter carefully. She had said nothing specific, which she hoped was fair on Nathaniel, but at the same time she had not hidden her feelings. She could not go through with it. Not now that she knew Nathaniel had no feelings for her whatsoever—and worse, no intention of even trying to like her.

“Just one kiss. That is all one needs to know. Know whether the tension between two people will explode into pleasure.”

Heat seared through Arabella’s stomach, toward her legs. It was most callous of the man to say such things to her when he knew he was not going to kiss her.

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