Page 4 of Seven Swans a Swimming

Arabella sighed, placed it back in her reticule, and leaned back in the carriage. Perhaps he would astound her with his brilliance, with his kindness, his goodness.

Perhaps he would be remarkably handsome. Her sisters’ husbands were all very well, but they were certainly not to her taste. She wanted something…well. A bit more interesting. A bit more dashing.

A cavalier sort of gentleman, Arabella thought dreamily as she allowed her imagination to carry her away. A man with great looks, great talents, but a haughty expression. A man who would debate with her, but always in the end acquiesce to her good taste.

And most importantly, and she flushed to think it, even to herself in the privacy of her own carriage, a gentleman that made her feel warm. That made her want to receive his kisses, his embraces.

A man she would want to—

“Here we are, Miss Arabella.”

Arabella started. For a moment, she had almost forgotten where she was, in a carriage bound for Oxcaster Lacey to meet with her future husband.

Her coachman grinned down at her. “And a beautiful place it is, too, if you ask me.”

Arabella moved to the window, looking out of it eagerly.

The carriage was slowing now as it trundled along a very elegant driveway lined with huge oak trees, empty of their leaves at this time of year but would doubtlessly be impressive and imposing in the summer.

To her left was a large woodland, or parkland. If Arabella looked closely…was that deer just on the edge of the woodland?

But that was not the most impressive part of the view. Moving to the window on the right-hand side, she gasped to see the most spectacular lake she had ever seen in her life. It appeared to go on and on forever, with no break, cresting around a hill. There were birds everywhere, chattering and squawking, making the most delightful noises, and in one corner there were swans.

Swans. Arabella smiled at the soft, majestic whiteness of them as the carriage passed by slowly. The larger ones ruffled their feathers at her as the carriage went by, then returned to grooming.

“And there’s the house.”

The coachman’s words were spoken in awe, but from this angle, Arabella could not yet see the place. Only when the drive curved to the right, to follow the line of the lake, did her mouth fall open.

She had thought Chalcroft impressive, but this? This was incomparable. The tall manor house was built in the Tudor style, all red brick and curly chimneys from which white smoke was billowing. There were oriel windows above, and from what Arabella could see from the carriage, festoons of holly draped below each window.

Arabella swallowed as the carriage came to a gentle stop outside the manor. Her heart was thundering now, thundering painfully against her chest.

This was not what she had expected. Her father had never given her to understand that the Cartiers were this magnificent! And she had only brought three gowns with her!

A swan lake, a deer park, and a beautiful house that looked as though it had weathered many a storm without a single tile being taken from its roof. For a Fitzroy who lived in a beautiful, albeit cramped, terrace house in London, this was far from home indeed.

Not for the first time, Arabella wished she had been able to prevail upon one of her sisters to accompany her—but they had been, naturally, far more interested in a Christmas at Chalcroft with the rest of the family than visiting a family they had never met before.

Stomach twisting, knowing that she could not stay in the carriage forever, Arabella took a deep breath.

The carriage door opened, and her coachman’s hand appeared to assist her down. “Ready, Miss Arabella?”

It was only another family, Arabella told herself firmly, as her breath caught in her lungs. Just a family with a son. A son who will become your husband. That is all.

Arabella leaned forward and took her coachman’s hand. “I am ready.”

Chapter Two

Arabella blinked againstwhat felt like the harshness of the sunlight as she stepped onto the driveway of Oxcaster Lacey.

Well, she was here. She had finally made it. She was about to meet the family she would soon become a part of.

It appeared that she had gripped the hand of her coachman a little too hard, however, as he helped her to descend from the carriage.

“Argh!”

“I am sorry,” Arabella said hastily, heat blossoming over her cheeks. It was only because she was nervous, she told herself, and it was perfectly natural to feel nervous.

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