"I do hope Sir John arrives on time," Frances said. "How dreadful it would be, Bella, to have no partner for the opening set."

Arabella was frowning as she hurried back to her own room. Frances had told her what Sir John had said to her at Vauxhall. And whereas Frances seemed quite convinced that the man had a tenure for her and was about to offer for her, Arabella was far more sure that he was involved merely in dalliance. Frances had not told her how he had tried to lure her from the main path, but Arabella had been able to put her own interpretation on the fact that he had left the box when the others were already far ahead and when Mr. Hubbard was too foxed to join them.

She shook off the thought as she allowed her maid to b.u.t.ton up her blue silk dress. She wore it because she had been directed to do so, but she had to admit that she liked it. It was the least plain of all her dresses, the hem being caught up into delicate scallops, which were embroidered with tiny dark blue flowers. The sleeves had matching but even smaller decorations.

She had had to have the seams taken in slightly. And was it true, she wondered, as she sat at her dressing table for her hair to be coaxed into soft curls, that she had looked better before she had started to lose weight? She had had a pretty figure, his lordship had said. But then, he had also said that she was very lovely to him, and that was clearly a bouncer. He was trying to coax her out of her anger with him, and he was doing it in a very unsubtle way. She was not going to believe him.

Besides, even if she did believe him, even if he had meant what he said, did it matter? Was Lord Astor's good opinion of any importance to her now? She bent her head for her maid to clasp her pearls at her neck. These too she wore as a concession to duty. She had not worn them since removing them at the opera nearly a week before.

Arabella stood up at almost the same moment as a light knock on the door that adjoined her husband's dressing room preceded his entry into hers. Her eyes widened in surprise. He had not entered her rooms for a week. She turned to dismiss her maid.

"Ah, yes," he said when they were alone, "I knew you would look lovely in that gown, Arabella. That particular shade of pale blue complements your dark hair."

"Thank you, my lord," she said, fixing her eyes on his neckcloth and finding herself momentarily distracted by the intricacy of its design. Henry had outdone himself for the occasion.

"The pearls are not quite right, though," he said, strolling toward her and examining them thoughtfully.

He reached his hands around to the back of her neck. It seemed an age before he finally had the pearls unclasped and held them in one hand. Arabella was very aware of the scent of his cologne. His neckcloth and the lace that half-covered his hands were a dazzling white. A diamond among the folds of the neckcloth gleamed in the candlelight.

"I do not have anything else suitable, my lord," she mumbled.

"Do you not?" he said. "I will have to see what I can do about that. Turn around."

She obeyed and looked down to examine her fingers, which were twining themselves into intricate formations against her gown.

"Ah, just the thing," Lord Astor said, and her eyes caught the flash of jewels as his hands came over her head, placed something cold and heavy around her neck, and again grappled with a clasp at the back.

"What do you think?" he asked, taking her by the shoulders when he had finished and turning her back to the mirror.

They were sapphires, in an exquisitely delicate setting. Her hand went up to touch them. She did not say a word.

"There is a bracelet to match," he said. "Draw on your gloves, Arabella, and I shall clasp it around your wrist."

She obeyed, watching in silence as he completed the task.

"Let me look at you," he said then, taking her by the shoulders and holding her at arm's length. "Ah, yes. Lady Astor. Now you look quite grand enough to make your appearance at Almack's."

"Why?" she asked his neckcloth.

He was silent for a moment. "Because I wanted to," he said. "Perhaps because I have not liked the tension in which we have lived for the past week. Truce, Arabella?"

Arabella swallowed painfully. She reached up one hand and touched his waistcoat lightly. But she withdrew it again as if she had scalded herself. "You wish to bribe me into condoning your way of life?" she said quickly. "Is this how married ladies acquire their many jewels? Has this been the reason for your other gifts to me too? My pearls? My saddle? I will not be bought, my lord. My integrity is not so lightly for sale."

He stepped back from her. "What more can I do, Arabella?" he asked somewhat impatiently. "I have given up my mistress. I have decided to remain faithful to you after all. I have tried to treat you kindly. I have spent much of today choosing a gift for you. What more do you want? My soul? Is that it?"

"Perhaps some shame and sorrow," she said. "Some realization that what you have done is wrong."

"I am afraid you will have to wait a lifetime if you wish to see me at your feet in sackcloth and ashes," he said. "I am sorry I have hurt you, Arabella. I truly am. I have grown fond of you. Beyond that I cannot go. There is nothing so unusual or so terrible, you know, about a married man also having a mistress. You should be thankful that I have at least given up mine just to keep the peace between us."

Arabella looked up into his eyes. "Thank you for the sapphires, my lord," she said. "They are very lovely. I think Frances will be waiting for us."

He bowed stiffly. "This is the cloak you are taking?" he asked, picking up the dark blue velvet one that was hanging over the back of a chair. "Allow me to help you on with it."

"Do you like your sapphires, ma'am?" Lord Farraday was dancing the opening set with Arabella. "I must say they look quite splendid."

"Yes, thank you," she said. "His lordship has just given them to me, you know, because this is a special occasion, he said. It is my first appearance at Almack's."

He grinned. "I rather think Astor may find a bill from my bootmaker on his desk one morning," he said. "For resoling. I swear I walked to every jeweler in town with your husband today, and to some of them twice. Only the best would do for Lady Astor, it seems. I must confess he has made a good choice, though."

"Yes," she said. "They are more impressive than my pearls. They are what I was going to wear, you see."

"Did Astor tell you about my house party?" he asked.

Arabella shook her head and looked inquiringly at him.

"It was supposed to be a garden party," he said. "But my country home is a three-hour drive from town, and no one in his right mind is going to enjoy making the journey both ways merely to stand on my lawn for a few hours and drink my wine. My mother solved the problem while my mind was still grappling with it. Convert it into a house party of two or three days, she suggested. Nothing longer because this is the height of the Season and there would be too much to miss in town."

"What a lovely idea," Arabella said. "I a.s.sume we are to be invited, my lord?"

"I couldn't possibly have it without my closest friends in attendance," he said. "Astor and Hubbard and I have remained close even six years after finishing university."

"Mr. Hubbard is to be there too?" Arabella said. "I am glad."

"It is good of you to say so, ma'am," Lord Farraday said. "I was rather dismayed to see that you were exposed to one of his difficult moods at Vauxhall. He had no business getting foxed with ladies present, as I told him the next day."

"I did not mind," Arabella said. "I understand his need to drink, and that helps me excuse him."

"Poor Hubbard," he said. "He was always the most cheerful and sunny-natured of the three of us until his misfortune. But that is not a suitable topic of conversation. Your sister looks pleased with herself. You must be happy for her, ma'am. She has taken very well this Season."

"Oh, I knew she would," Arabella said, glancing across to where Frances was dancing with Sir John Charlton. "She has always been the beauty of the family."

"Perhaps so," Lord Farraday said gallantly, "but she was not granted all the beauty in your family, ma'am."

Arabella grinned at him. "Flattery will gain you my undying devotion, my lord," she said. Her grin changed to a warm smile suddenly. "And there is Mr. Hubbard. He must have slipped through the doors when they were already being closed."

Lord Astor, dancing with one of Frances' friends, observed both the grin at Farraday and the smile at Hubbard with irritation. Arabella had refused the olive branch he had offered earlier and almost ignored the gift he had chosen with such care. Yet she had nothing but bright smiles and conversation for his friends. And doubtless she would be dancing with the gangly youth before the evening was out. He was standing alone at one end of the room watching her, his arms folded across his thin chest.

She did want his soul, he thought. He had been quite right. She was just the sort of woman who would not be satisfied until she had all of him. And for all her diminutive size and childlike manner, she had a certain subtle power that he was only just becoming aware of. Without any apparent effort, she was succeeding in her aim. He could feel her power, and it was going to take all the vestiges of his willpower to resist giving in to her entirely.

His way of life had already changed drastically in the month since his marriage. Only a month! It seemed like at least a year. He had come to devote a great deal of his time and attention to Arabella. He had given up Ginny and had not even begun to look about him for her successor. What was more, he knew that he was unlikely to do so. Somehow, without any deliberate decision on his part, he had been converted into a faithful husband.

And now, as if all that were not enough, his conscience was being plagued, and he was having a battle royal to defeat it. But he would be d.a.m.ned before he would grovel before his own consciencea"let alone before Arabellaa"and confess that he had been wrong, morally wrong, to keep Ginny and to visit her bed after his marriage. He had given up Ginny because he no longer had pleasure with her and because he did not like to see his wife hurt. It was a personal decision he had made, not a moral choice.

But the pressure was on him. He could feel it every time he looked at Arabella, and every time he thought about her, for that matter. He had to fight against the feeling that he had wronged her terribly. He was sorry that she had been hurta"he had admitted that and told her so from the start. But he was not sorry for what he had done. He could not be. If he admitted that he was, then he was also admitting the total sanct.i.ty of marriage. He would be bound to Arabella by far stronger ties than he had ever contemplated or was willing to contemplate.

He could not be so bound. The thought was more than a little frightening.

"One can tell that you have had the best of dancing masters," Sir John Charlton said to Frances after they had been waltzing for a few minutes. "You perform the steps of the waltz with elegance as well as competence."

"But we never did have a dancing master at all," Frances said.

"Indeed?" Sir John looked down at her along the length of his nose. "You amaze me, Miss Wilson. You must have a natural sense of rhythm."

"Oh, we did learn all the steps of the various dances," she said. "Mama taught us some, and Theodore taught us others. Sir Theodore Perrot, that is. He was in his grace of Wellington's army, you know, and attended many a.s.sembles in Spain and Belgium."

"Ah, yes," he said. "One of our n.o.ble heroes. And he has doubtless been using the glory of his military past ever since to ingratiate himself with such a lovely lady and one of such superior manners."

"I don't know about that, sir," Frances said, a trifle disconcerted. "Theodore has always been our friend since childhood. I was almost sick to death with anxiety all the time he was gone, especially when news came of the Battle of Waterloo. That is, sir, my family was very worried. We are all very fond of him. Bella is too. You may ask her."

"Quite so," he said, looking around the ballroom, an expression of some boredom on his face. "Almack's is quite a tedious place to be, is it not?"

"I am surprised at its fame after seeing it," Frances said. "There is nothing so very special about the a.s.sembly rooms. But nevertheless, sir, I am sensible of the honor of being here."

"Quite so," he said. "Will you be attending Farra-day's house party next week?"

"I know nothing about it," she said.

"You will probably be invited," he said, "Astor being such a great friend of his. And Lady Astor too, I might add. It will doubtless be tedious. Farraday has the most amiable of good natures, but he does not always cultivate elegance, I fear. I shall be positively reluctant to accept my invitation if you are not to be there."

"Oh." Frances blushed deeply and could think of nothing else to say.

"It would give me the chance to show you my own home," Sir John said. "It is only four miles away from Farraday's, you know. We are neighbors, you see. That is the connection between us. You might have thought it rather odd that we are sometimes seen together, since we are vastly different in, ah, manners, shall we say?"

"I would love to see your home," Frances said.

"It has a certain elegance," he said, "as you will see for yourself. Of course, when I become the Earl of Haig, I shall also inherit the mansion which my new position will demand."

"Of course," Frances said.

"We will ride over to my home when we are at Farraday's," Sir John said. "Alone, if possible. I believe it is time you and I had a chance to get to know each other a little better, is it not, Miss Wilson?"

"Yes," Frances said, blushing again. "I mean, I will probably need to take a maid or a groom, sir."

"Oh, quite," he said. "You showed some shyness at Vauxhall, if you remember. And that is to be commended. A reserve of manner is a necessary element of elegance in a young lady. However, prudishness is not a mark of an experienced lady of the ton. And I am sure you have been in town long enough to realize that country manners are not always town manners."

"I ... er ... yes," Frances said, "I have been in town for a month, sir. One learns a great deal in that time."

He looked down at her with narrowed eyes. He never smiled, Frances thought, and a thrill of something like excitement crept down her spine.

"I shall look forward to Farraday's house party after all, then," he said. "I shall be leaving for my travels abroad in July. I would wish to know you quite well by that time, Miss Wilson, so that I might look forward the more eagerly to returning home. Or should I say, to returning to Parkland Manor?"

"Oh." Frances flushed yet again.

Arabella was dancing the second waltz with Mr. Hubbard. They danced in silence for a few minutes until he looked down at her and coughed in some embarra.s.sment.

"I owe you an apology, Lady Astor," he said.

"Whatever for?" she asked, looking up at him wide-eyed.

"I understand I was somewhat, ah, foxed at Vauxhall," he said. "In fact, I know I was. I was not so far gone that I cannot remember. That was quite unforgivable in your presence, ma'am."

"No, of course it was not," she said. "You did not say or do anything offensive. And I like to think that at that particular time you needed someone to listen to you. I was happy to be the listener. Please do not apologize."

He smiled. "You are more forgiving than your husband," he said. "He ripped up at me the next morning about letting you run about the Gardens unaccompanied. But no more than he was ripping up at himself for allowing you to go without him in the first place. It does my heart good, you know, to see two friends of mine happy together. It helps restore my faith in marriage."

Arabella bit her lip and continued to look up at him. She felt an alarming urge to confide in him and pour out all her woes.

"But you do not need all this sober talk about marriages when you are celebrating your first visit to Almack's," he said. "Are you going to be at Farraday's house party?"

"Yes, I believe we are," Arabella said. "And I have just had a ridiculous idea. Do you think he will let me take George with me? He is desperately in need of more exercise than he can get in the park. Oh." She giggled suddenly. "George is my dog, sir."

He laughed. "Knowing Farraday," he said, "I am sure he would be delighted if you brought your whole kennels. Why don't you ask him?"

"I think I will," she said, and they danced in companionable silence for several minutes.

"Did I tell you?" Mr. Hubbard asked suddenly, his voice tense. "No, of course I did not. My wife and my son are back in Brighton, you know. Someone saw them there and told me so a couple of days ago."

Arabella looked up at him, some of her own pain in her look of sympathy.

"I am sorry," she said. "I mean..."

"I know what you mean," he said. "I am sorry. I should not keep referring to the subject. You are almost too kind a lady, ma'am."

15.

The weather during that spring had not been kind to those who enjoyed the outdoors either for the fresh air and exercise or for the opportunity it gave to show off new bonnets and new conveyances. But on the morning one week later when Lord Astor's traveling carriage set off for Lord Farraday's country home, the sun shone down from a cloudless sky, and the breeze was just strong enough to prevent the heat from being oppressive.

Arabella was gazing out through the window, her whole attention focused on the trees and fields that stretched away on either side of the road.

"How lovely it all is," she said. "It is amazing that one can spend most of one's life longing to go to town, only to find when one does so that one is closed in by buildings and roadways and pavements. It is going to be marvelous to have two days in which to breathe in country air. George is going to be ecstatic."

"I imagine Henry will be so too when we reach our destination," Lord Astor said. "I don't believe he objects to traveling in the coach behind us with your maid and all the baggage, Arabella, but he looked quite indignant when I informed him that he would also be sharing the carriage with George."

"Oh, dear," she said, "I hate it when Henry is cross with me. He has a way of looking at one that would make one swear that he is a royal duke at the very least."

She found herself laughing with her husband before she recollected herself and turned to stare resolutely out through the window again.

Frances was looking dreamy. "I could almost imagine that around the next corner we would come across Parkland," she said. "Do you not wish it were, so, Bella? We could see Mama and Jemima again. Do you think Jemima will have changed? Do you think she has grown more?"

"We have been away for less than five weeks," Arabella said. "Of course she will not have changed in that time, Frances. It is just that so much has happened that it seems we have been away forever. Oh, you are not about to cry, are you? Look at all the lovely scenery you will miss if you do."

"How foolish I have been," Frances said, two tears spilling over from her br.i.m.m.i.n.g eyes, "thinking that I would not have lived until I had been to town and attended all the ton events and met all the fashionable ladies and gentlemen who live there or spend the Season there. And all the time I had Mama and Jemima and you, Bella. And Parkland. And Theodore."