Chapter 17 #2
Mr. Clodwick dipped his head and proceeded into the haberdashery. I remained outside and watched as Arabella rushed toward a young lady outside a market stall. Instinct set me to follow her.
“Harriet!” Arabella called as she approached.
Harriet lifted her head, allowing me to see a clear view of raven curls and a look of clear distress on her otherwise pretty face.
After she met Arabella’s gaze, she darted past her, coming straight toward me.
Right before she passed me, she tripped over her feet.
I was in the right place at the right time and was able to catch her before she fell.
Arabella was beside us by the time I had Harriet back on her feet, and she looped her arm through Harriet’s to help support her.
Harriet’s face crumbled and tears streamed down her face. “What a mess I am.”
I whipped out my handkerchief and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said.
Arabella squeezed her friend’s hand. “Whatever is the matter? Why did you run from me?”
Harriet shrugged. “I’m embarrassed. My husband keeps such a tight rein on my time that with an hour of freedom granted to me, I should have come to see you and not gone to the market. It’s only that I had to be alone to clear my head. I can barely bring myself to eat, I’ve been so overwrought.”
“Harriet . . .” Arabella hedged. “Mr. Lawrence does not abuse you, does he?
“He does not hurt me, if that is what you mean. I am merely afraid I will do something to displease him. He has such high standards, and I am constantly disappointing him.”
Arabella did not have to say a word for me to read her thoughts. Her eyes narrowed much like that when they had skewered me this morning, and I was grateful they were aimed at Mr. Lawrence and not me this time.
“You must come home with us,” Arabella said. “I will see you are fed a feast.”
Harriet shook her head. “The servants will report to my husband if I am gone more than the hour I promised. I was only supposed to come to town long enough to have my glove mended.”
My own gaze narrowed. “And what happens if you are late?”
Harriet seemed to see me for the first time, even though I had caught her from falling moments ago.
“Forgive me,” Arabella said. “This is Mr. Ashworth. Mr. Ashworth, this is my good friend, Harriet Lawrence.”
“Mr. Ashworth?” Harriet asked, her eyes bulging. “Surely, not the Mr. Ashworth.”
Arabella sighed. “He’s not as nice as he looks.”
I grinned. “You think I look nice?”
Arabella cast her gaze to the sky. “Never mind, him. How can we help? I’ve been worried sick about you. No one lets me see you, and I am not even sure if you are receiving my letters.”
“I am sorry you’ve worried. I am well enough as you can see. At least once a month, Mr. Lawrence rides to see his parents in London. He will leave again next week. I will sneak away then to see you.”
Arabella squeezed Harriet’s hand once more with a tenderness of friendship. “I look forward to it with the greatest of anticipation. Any visit from a good friend is well worth the wait.”
The words set Harriet’s mouth into a smile. “Thank you.”
Arabella shrugged off her words. “You had better hurry home. I don’t want to be the reason you’re in trouble.”
Harriet nodded and pulled away. There was a glimmer of hope in her countenance that had not been there before, and I knew Arabella had been the one to put it there.
I studied Arabella out of the corner of my eye.
I had never appreciated the way she had treated me when we were children, but she was very good to everyone else around her.
There was a reason her father loved her so dearly, her mother made excuses for her, and her sisters wanted her to live near them.
It was likely the same reason that Clodwick wanted to marry her too.
She didn’t simper and bat her eyelashes like some, and each of her emotions were authentic and true to her nature. When she cared, she really cared.
And unfortunately, when she hated, the emotion was equally intense.
Arabella sighed when Harriet turned at the street corner. “Poor Harriet.” She extended her arm out in the direction her friend had taken. “This is what comes of arranged marriages.” She turned her head and gave me a long hard stare before retreating toward the haberdashery.
I stood there gaping after her, thoroughly annoyed.
Perhaps I should tell her that my friend Charles Shepherd had a very happy arranged marriage.
Did she really think I would be the same kind of man as Mr. Lawrence?
That I would control her movements and time with her friends?
If she saw me as that kind of man, no wonder she did not care for me.
I glanced back at Harriet. I wondered if Mr. Lawrence’s parents were the same Lawrences in London who were friends with my own parents.
As soon as I returned home, I would write and ask.
If there was something I could do for this poor young lady, I would do it.
Arabella might not believe it, but I was capable of being a decent human being.