He was pleased. If only she could acquire a circle of friends and acquaintances and enough courage to face new people wherever she went, then he would be released from this sense of responsibility for her that had plagued him for three days. He could begin to live his own life again, confident that he was not cruelly neglecting a lonely and cowering wife at home.

The day before had been quite satisfactory, of course, except that he had felt obliged to sit at home all evening, having busied himself about his own pleasures all day. And then he had felt sorry he had done so because Arabella had said hardly a dozen words all evening and he had been left to make himself agreeable to Frances. And despite the early night they had all had, he had not gone to Arabella. He had wanted to, strangely enough, and had even prepared himself to go. He had twice had his hand on the k.n.o.b of the door that led from his dressing room into hers. But he had not gone. He had tired himself out with Ginny that afternoon, he had told himself.

Today had been somewhat tiresome. He had spent a pleasant-enough morning at Jackson's with a large group of friends and had lunched with several of them at White's. They had tried to persuade him to go to the races with them in the afternoon, but he had promised on pure impulse at breakfast to take Arabella to the Tower to see the royal menagerie. And of course he had been teased. Life sentences and leg shackles had been the main topic of loud conversation and laughter for all of five minutes before he had left White's. And then there had been the obligation to appear at tonight's entertainment. He supposed that he would be there even if he had not married Arabella, but he would by now be comfortable and conscience-free in the card salon.

"Astor!" a voice said as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. "I have not seen you for a veritable age. I had no idea you had taken on a life sentence, old chap. My commiserations."

"How are you, Hubbard?" Lord Astor asked. "Did I see you talking to my wife a moment ago?"

"Farraday presented me," Mr. Hubbard said. "She seems like a fetching little thing, I must confess."

"Thank you," Lord Astor said dryly. "I am a fortunate man, I believe."

"She is young," his friend said, raising his quizzing gla.s.s to his eye and looking through it at Arabella, who was now conversing with two ladies as well as with Lord Farraday. "Straight from the cradle, Astor? Wise of you, old boy. You would do well to train her to obedience before she develops a mind of her own."

Lord Astor looked steadily at his friend and curbed the sharp retort he had been about to utter. "Arabella seems to be doing well enough here," he said. "Shall we play a hand of cards, Hubbard?"

6.

LATER that night Lord Astor sat down on the edge of his wife's bed before snuffing the candles.

"You have had a busy day, Arabella," he said. "Did you enjoy the soiree?"

"Yes, I did, my lord," she said. "Your aunt was obliging enough to present me to a large number of interesting people. And Frances too. And a few of them have promised to send us invitations."

"Of course," he said. "You are Lady Astor. You will find yourself much in demand for a wide array of entertainments." He touched her cheek with one knuckle. "You did not like the menagerie, did you?"

She watched him, her eyes guarded. "It was very kind of you to take us, my lord," she said. "You know how much I miss George and Emily and you thought of a way to cheer me up. I am grateful."

"But it was not a good way, as it happened, was it?" he said. "You think it cruel to confine animals so?"

"I am just silly," she said. "You were very kind."

He smiled. "You may express your own feelings and opinions, you know, Arabella," he said. "I will not be offended if you occasionally disagree with me. And on this occasion, I am not even sure that you do. I saw those poor creatures through your eyes this afternoon, and you are quite right."

She looked earnestly up into his eyes. "I had a horrifying mental image of a country where dogs are strange," she said, "and I pictured George in such a country, confined in a little cage so that people could come and stare and marvel. And I could not bear the thought, my lord. I think I will have nightmares."

"George will be here with you soon," he said. "You said that he was not allowed in the house at Parkland because of your sister? Perhaps we will allow him to inhabit the kitchen area of this house as that mangy little cat does who adopted us off the street about a year ago. Would that please you?"

Her face lit up. "Oh, yes," she said. "How kind you are, my lord."

"My name is Geoffrey," he said.

She flushed. "Yes, my ... Yes," she said.

"Are you very tired, Arabella?" he asked. "Would you prefer that I said good night and returned to my own rooms?"

Her flush deepened. "If that is what you wish, my lord," she said.

He smiled fleetingly.

"I want to make you comfortable," she said. "It is my duty to make you comfortable."

He touched the backs of his fingers to her hot cheek and rose to remove his dressing gown and snuff the candles.

"Very well," he said. "I shall let you make me comfortable, Arabella."

One week later, Arabella was walking in Hyde Park, her face turned up to the early-morning sun, her mood entirely happy. She had George's leather lead wound around her hand. George himself was running across the gra.s.s, snuffling at the roots of trees, trying to find something familiar about this new territory. Arabella had let him run loose once they were safely through the Grosvenor Gate into the park. She herself kept to the footpath, as the gra.s.s was still wet from almost a week of rain.

George had arrived the day before while she was out paying afternoon calls with Lady Berry and Frances. Both he and Emily. His lordship had come out into the hallway with George as soon as she arrived home, and George had gone into an ecstasy of jumping and barking and tail-wagging and bottom-wriggling. She had not behaved with much greater dignity, she feared. She had gone down on her knees in full sight of two liveried footmen and hugged him. He had behaved like a perfect gentleman until she came on the scene, his lordship had complained when he could be heard above the din of reunion. But he had not been angry.

Even Frances had been pleased and had totally forgotten to sneeze. Arabella had decided to go out to the stables to welcome Emily before taking off her bonnet and pelisse. His lordship had gone with her after producing a leather lead with which to confine George, a contraption her dog had not liked at all. Arabella would have preferred to go alone, but truth to tell, she had been so happy and so grateful to her husband that she did not feel nearly as shy of him as she usually did.

And now she was out in the park with George, on a beautiful April morning. She could pretend she was in the country if she wished, all was so quiet and smelled so fresh. She felt like running with sheer joy, but she remembered that she was a married lady now and in London and that her husband had warned her against doing anything so improper.

She would heed his warning. Especially when he had been so kind to her. She was still terribly shy of him and still felt quite overshadowed by his splendor. But she had learned during the two weeks of their marriage to respect and even like her husband. He took her and Frances about much more than she had expected. And he had bought her those lovely pearls just the day after she thought perhaps she had displeased him because he had not come to her at night. And flowers the day after she had thought so for the same reason again. And he had taken her to see the menagerie because he had thought it would please her.

Arabella was not feeling nearly so unhappy with her marriage as she had expected when she had first realized the mistake they had made about the ident.i.ty of the new Lord Astor, though she still wished that she were just a little prettier and he just a little less handsome. She was heartened, though, by the fact that she had definitely lost weight.

He had not hurt her since their wedding night. She had been very relieved to discover that fact on the night of their return to London. She very much wanted to be a good wife. Now she could be so without the danger that she would gasp with pain at an unguarded moment. It was not even unpleasant to perform her main marriage duty, she had found. She always lay still and relaxed for him, and thought about how fortunate she was to have a kind husband. And one who felt good. Yes, she had been surprised to find that, after all, the marriage act was not an unpleasant experience for a wife. At least, for her it was not.

She did not think his lordship could find her a very exciting partner. But she did hope that she made him comfortable. He had teased her about it that one night. After telling her that she might make him comfortable, he had got into her bed beside her and given her the chance to do just that. Then afterward he had rolled to her side on the bed and propped himself up on his elbow.

"Thank you, Arabella," he had said. "You have made me very comfortable indeed." And he had laid one finger lightly along the length of her nose.

Her cheeks had still been burning after he had returned to his own room, and even now she had not decided what the laughter in his voice had meant. Had he been laughing at her? Laughing at the idea that she could do anything to make him feel good? But she did not think so. He was a kind man.

"Why, it is Lady Astor!" a voice called cheerfully. "Good morning, ma'am. How do you do?"

Arabella had been aware of two horses approaching at a canter, but she had not looked toward them or their riders. She looked up now to see Lord Farraday and another gentleman whom she did not know. She lifted her hand and smiled gaily.

"Good morning, my lord," she called. "Is it not a beautiful day? You see? My dog arrived from the country yesterday. His lordship was kind enough to send for him."

"So you told me a few evenings ago at the Pendletons'," Lord Farraday said. "I am glad he has come at last, ma'am. That black-and-white collie? He looks a bundle of energy."

"Will you present me, Clive?" Lord Farraday's companion asked.

Arabella was soon curtsying to Sir John Charlton, a slim, blond, good-looking young man, and feeling uncomfortable. She was glad that they did not stop for a lengthy conversation. She waved them on their way a minute later and called to George to begin the walk home for breakfast. Why could she never relax and be herself when confronted with handsome gentlemen?

Arabella and Frances were attending their first ball at the home of the Marquess of Ravenscourt. It was a come-out ball for his daughter, Lady Harriet Meeker. They had come early with Lady Berry, who had insisted that since they were new to the ton it was only right that they make an appearance soon enough to be seen and presented to some eligible persons.

Lady Berry had taken her job as chaperone quite seriously, Arabella thought. Not that she really needed a chaperone, of course, being a married lady. But Lady Berry had pointed out, and his lordship had agreed, that since she was a very young married lady and new to the ton, and since she had an unmarried sister with her equally new to society, it would be as well for them to be accompanied by an older lady.

They had been promenaded around the ballroom, greeting several acquaintances made during the previous week and a half, being presented to many people they had not met before. The cards of both began to fill with the names of prospective partners.

Arabella was gratified. His lordship had taken himself off somewhere as soon as they had reached the end of the receiving line, after telling her that he would return to lead her into the opening set of country dances and writing his name in Frances' card for a quadrille later in the evening. Arabella had expected that her sister would be much in demand as a partner. A glance around the ballroom as it began to fill showed her that there was not another lady to match Frances in beauty. But she had not expected to dance a great deal herself. Who would wish to dance with a small, round-faced, plump girl who was also married?

But Lord Farraday and Sir John Charlton had signed her card, and then several gentlemen to whom she had been presented for the first time that evening, and then Mr. Hubbard, who reminded her that she had talked to him at Lady Berry's soiree the week before. Not that she had needed reminding. She had been affected by his sad story. Indeed, before the orchestra began to make promising noises that suggested the dancing was about to begin, Arabella found that her card was full, except for the s.p.a.ces next to the two waltzes. She had no idea how that dance was performed.

"Oh, Bella," Frances said beside her, "is your card full too? I can scarce believe this is really happening. Is not Sir John Charlton very handsome? How fortunate it is that you were presented to him just this morning. Had you not been, perhaps he would not have liked to seek out our acquaintance tonight."

"Yes," Arabella said. "He is a little like Theodore in coloring, is he not?"

"Oh, only slightly. And in coloring only," her sister said, frowning slightly. "But Theodore is not nearly so fashionable or so elegant, Bella. I think there is really very little likeness." She turned to talk to a young lady beside her with whom she had struck up a friendship in the past week.

Arabella wished Frances had not reminded her of her presentation to Sir John Charlton. She did not want to think about that morning. Or the afternoon, for that matter.

She had been so happy. There had been the walk with George in the morning, and there was to be a ride on Emily in the afternoon. His lordship was to accompany her into the park. And of course there was this balla"her firsta"to look forward to in the evening. There had seemed to be not a cloud in her sky. Until she had been summoned into the library after luncheon, that was.

"You took George for a walk in the park this morning, Arabella?" Lord Astor had said. He had been gone from the breakfast room by the time she had returned home.

For once she had forgotten her shyness with him. "Yes," she had said, smiling fully up at him. "It was so lovely, my lord. The gra.s.s was wet and glistening in the sunlight, and the sky was blue again. I could imagine myself in the country. You should have been there too."

"I wish I had been, Arabella," he had said, but he had not responded to her smile. "You met Farraday and Sir John Charlton?"

"Did Lord Farraday tell you?" she had asked. "He was obliging enough to stop to talk for a minute, and Sir John asked to be presented to me."

"Farraday should know better than to have put you in such an awkward position," Lord Astor had said.

Arabella's smile had faltered at last. "Is Sir John not a desirable acquaintance?" she had asked.

"I know of nothing against him," he had said. "Why did you not take a maid with you, Arabella?"

She had felt her color rise as she stared back at him. "I was merely going to the park," she had said at last.

"Merely the park," he had said. He had been standing before the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, his legs apart. He had looked very large and formidable to Arabella. "Do you not realize that Hyde Park is the gathering place of all the most fashionable people in London, Arabella?"

"It was very early." Her voice had been defensive, her eyes wary.

"It is very improper, Arabella," he had said, "for a lady to appear in any public place unaccompanied. It is even more improper to converse with two gentlemen, one of them unknown to you, while you are doing so. Did you not know that?"

"Yes," she had said. "I did know, my lord. But I did not realize that it was such a strict rule. The park is so close and the hour was very early."

"I do not know Charlton," Lord Astor had said. "We must hope that he is a man of some discretion. But he asked to be presented, you say? I am disappointed in Farraday. He should have ridden past and pretended not to see you. However, I think he can be trusted not to make anything of the story. The situation is not serious, Arabella. But I will expect you to be more discreet in future. If your sister or I am not available to accompany you where you wish to go, then you must take a maid."

"I have failed you." Arabella's voice had dwindled almost to a whisper.

"That is undoubtedly an exaggeration," he had said, smiling for the first time. "I am merely concerned for your reputation, Arabella. I would not want you to be known as fast when you are not at all so in reality."

"I am sorry, my lord." She had stood mute and miserable before him, feeling the full force of her failure to behave as a well-bred and experienced lady of the ton should behave.

He had put a hand beneath her chin and kept it there for a moment. "We will not make a major issue of it," he had said. "You need not look as if you expect me to beat you at any moment, Arabella. Will you be ready to ride in about two hours' time after I have taken care of some business here?"

But the joy had gone out of her day. She had ridden Emily later and mingled with the crowds of riders, strollers, and carriage pa.s.sengers who had come out to take the air after a week of wet weather. Her husband had been at her side, conversing with her, greeting acquaintances. But she had felt dull and unattractive and inadequate to the life she was expected to lead. She had looked about her with some apprehension, expecting to see everywhere fingers pointing her way, dreading that her indiscretion might have caused a great scandal. And she had felt an unreasonable resentment against the handsome man at her side who had taken her from an environment that was familiar to her and now expected her to behave with perfect decorum in his world.

"Arabella." Lord Astor's hand on hers awoke Arabella from her unhappy reverie. "Shall we join the set?"

She smiled and placed her hand on his sleeve.

"And what is your first impression of your first ball?" he asked as he led her forward.

"That everyone is remarkably civil and even friendly," Arabella replied.

"But of course," he said. "Did you think that the new Lady Astor would be left in a corner unnoticed?"

She thought for a moment as they joined a set and waited for the music to begin. "Yes," she said at last, "I believe I did."

He laughed. "I do not think I have ever known anyone with your modesty," he said. "You look remarkably pretty, Arabella, in your yellow silk."

"Perhaps people have taken notice of me," she said, looking up earnestly into his face, "because I have had Frances standing next to me all the time. She looks very lovely, does she not, my lord? I think she is lovelier than any other lady here. I am not being partial, am I? Do you not agree with me?"

"If any other lady asked me that question, Arabella," Lord Astor said, "I would know quite certainly that she was fishing for a compliment. But you are perfectly serious, are you not? Yes, Frances looks beautiful, and I can see that she will take very well. But for all that, there is one lady I would prefer to look at."

The music began before Arabella could do more than glance up at him with wide, startled eyes. They were soon caught up in the intricate and energetic steps of a country dance.

Frances had danced with five gentlemen before her brother-in-law came to claim her hand for the quadrille. Two of them were t.i.tled. She was flushed with triumph. She had been told for several years, of course, that she was beautiful, and she had come to believe it, though she was not unduly vain. But none of her admirers at homea"not even Theodorea"had paid her such polished and courtly compliments as the gentlemen with whom she had danced. She had certainly been right to come to London.

Viscount Shenley complimented her on the dancing master she had never had, and Mr. Kershaw complimented himself on having the loveliest lady in the room as a dancing partner.

But Frances was most smitten by her third partner, Sir John Charlton, to whom Bella had had the good fortune to be presented that morning. He looked rather as Theodore would appear if one could remake him to perfectiona"tall and slim, with thick blond hair and aquiline features. He was impeccably dressed.

"You are Lady Astor's sister?" he asked as they began to dance. "How very fortunate that Lord Astor has recently made her his bride. You might not have come to town else, and I might not have had the honor of making your acquaintance and dancing with you this evening."

Frances blushed. He had a way of looking at her along the length of his nose that was very impressive.

"Bella has been fortunate, sir," she said. "She has married well. But she deserves her good fortune. She is very dear to her family."

"And she is fortunate to have such a loyal and very lovely sister, I am sure," he said.

Frances blushed again. "Thank you, sir," she said.

"Do not thank me, Miss Wilson," he said. "I did not make you lovely."

He did not ever smile, Frances noticed. He looked very distinguished.

"I have only recently arrived in town too," he said. "I have been visiting my elderly uncle, the Earl of Haig. I am his heir, you know. He is fond of me and was unwilling to see me leave. But at this precise moment, I am glad I did." He regarded her steadily.

Frances looked at him, confused, and noted in some disappointment that the set was drawing to an end. But the next was to be danced with her brother-in-law, who was surely the best-looking of all the gentlemen in the ballroom, with the possible exception of Sir John. She could still look at Lord Astor and feel a pang of envy of Bella. But she always loyally quelled the feeling and rejoiced in her younger sister's good fortune.

"Perhaps I might do myself the honor of calling on you one afternoon?" Sir John said as he escorted her from the floor.