Arabella let out the air she had held for far too. “Lord Cartier.”
The man cracked a smile. “And I suppose you are here to inspect the goods.”
“Cartier!”
Arabella chuckled as Lady Cartier whacked her husband on the arm.
“That is no way to speak to your future daughter-in-law,” Lady Cartier scolded. “If you are not careful, she will take against you and decide to leave without—well. Anyway, Miss Fitzroy, your man can take your things inside, we have set aside a suite for you in the west wing.”
Laughter gone, Arabella swallowed but could think of nothing to say, so nodded.
A suite? The west wing? Just how large was this house, anyway?
“That…that is very kind of you,” said Arabella awkwardly.
Well, what else could she say? It was in moments like these that she dearly wished she had been more able to persuade a few, or just one, of her sisters to accompany her. Why couldn’t Sophia, considered too young to go to Chalcroft for Christmas, have accompanied her?
“Because if she is too young for family, she is too young for strangers,” their mother had said firmly when Arabella had asked her.
Arabella has seen the sense of her mother’s answer, but still. It did not make this any easier. If only she had someone who could stand by her side, support her, guide her where necessary to say the right things.
Her heart contracted painfully. Like a husband. Where was Nathaniel?
“Where is Nathaniel?” asked Lord Cartier, as though he heard Arabella’s thoughts. “I thought he would be here?”
“I sent a servant to find him,” said Lady Cartier under her breath while holding a smile for Arabella. “I am sure he will be here any moment.”
The three of them stood outside the Oxcaster Lacey for almost a full minute, Arabella’s heart racing. So, it was now, here, that she would meet him. The man who she would learn, she hoped, to love.
If only she could fall in love at first sight. It was a foolish notion that one of her cousins, Katarina, had always laughed at, but Arabella had always secretly hoped it would be possible for her.
What could be more romantic than being engaged to a gentleman one’s entire life, she had always thought, and then when one finally met him, discovering he was all one’s heart desired anyway?
Arabella swallowed. There were footsteps coming up the drive behind her; footsteps that were far heavier than her coachman’s—and besides, he was taking her trunk upstairs to this new suite of hers.
And so that had to mean…
“Ah, Nathaniel,” said Lady Cartier brightly—a little too brightly, Arabella noticed. “There you are. Miss Arabella Fitzroy has just arrived.”
Arabella hesitated for a moment before she turned around, trying to take a deep, calming breath. She was suddenly very aware of her fingers, her hands hanging down by her sides.
This was it. She would turn around in just a moment and see the handsome, charming man that she had been waiting for her entire life.
Arabella turned around, her heels digging into the gravel, and she saw…
Her mouth fell open. If she had not just heard Lady Cartier address the man who was walking toward her as Nathaniel, she would never have been able to guess that it was him. A lord did not dress like that, surely?
The man walking to her was not wearing a hat, and had mud splattered across his face. He was wearing breeches and a greatcoat that looked as though they had been out of fashion when his father had been a young man, and they were patched and frayed so many times that it was difficult to see just how much of the original coat was left.
There was a glower on his face that was most unbecoming, but it disappeared into discomfort when their eyes met.
Arabella gasped. Well, even under all those old clothes and the mud, Lord Nathaniel Cartier was very handsome. A sharp jawline and a serious mouth were accompanied by eyes that glittered with intelligence, and the entire effect was…mesmerizing.
Something uncomfortable stirred in her stomach. A little unorthodox, perhaps, Arabella told herself, but then he was at home, in his own surroundings. Perhaps he had forgotten that she was to arrive today.
There was no knowing what old sort of gown she might throw on in a morning if she did not believe she was to see anyone interesting.
“Miss Fitzroy, may I introduce you to my son, Lord Nathaniel,” said Lord Cartier with a beaming smile. “Son, this is Miss Arabella Fitzroy.”