Chapter 26
Arabella
Ioverslept.
The small, rosewood clock on my fireplace mantel read a quarter to eight.
One would think that my anxiety and anticipation for this morning’s conversation with Rowan would have kept me awake all night.
Instead, I had felt more restful than I had in weeks, thanks to the conclusion I had reached last night.
I had planned to tell Rowan about my writing and make him swear to never read a word I had written. If he could agree, I would be able to make peace with my past and allow myself to truly love him. For love was what I was sure was brewing inside me.
But now it was too late.
He was gone.
I dug my fingers into my hair and squeezed my eyes shut.
How had this happened? Why now when I couldn’t stop thinking of him and I longed to be near him?
I had started to believe that our parents had been right all along, and that Rowan was the only one capable of making me happy.
I had thought it was my writing, but that night with Rowan in the library, when his lips had brushed the corner of my mouth, had surpassed any fulfillment any words had ever brought me.
Tears coursed down my cheeks. I hadn’t wanted to depend on people.
I desired to be like Penelope Waters from my story and save myself.
But Rowan’s plea last night had stayed with me: Can we not sort it out together?
With him, I believed that happiness could be twice what I had been capable of on my own.
If he would only make me that one simple promise.
Now I would never know.
He was well on his way to London.
And I was here . . . without him.
It was hours later before I finally climbed out of bed. My family thought I was ill, but my red, swollen eyes would not fool them if I came down to visit. If only I could escape to see Harriet. I knew her words would soothe me. But would her husband let me in?
I stewed over the decision for a few minutes more before making up my mind to at least try. Hurrying from my room, I nearly collided with Mr. Clodwick at the top of the stairs.
“Good day, Miss Delafield.”
“Good day.” I took a step back and clutched my chest to slow the fright the sudden encounter had caused. I had forgotten all about Mr. Clodwick and his presence in the house. Such a realization made me feel like a terrible person.
“Any word from Lady Farthington this morning?” he asked.
“Lady Farthington?” I stared at him, my annoyance flaring. Did he not worry about my health? My swollen features? “No, I haven’t had a single word.”
“That is a shame. I thought she would respond as soon as your father gave her my note.”
My foot tapped beneath my skirt. For weeks I had smothered my irritation for this man, but this morning it was beyond my capacity.
“I cannot tell you if Lady Farthington gives a hoot about your note. If I were you, I would forget all about her or any private tour. She does not easily forgive—I should know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an important errand to run.
” I stalked past him, deciding once and for all to be done with the man.
Without Rowan, no amount of writing freedom was worth Mr. Clodwick’s selfish tendencies.
He was far too single-minded for me to want any part of him reproduced in my future children.
The very thought made me shiver with disgust.
On my ride to Harriet’s, I prayed that fortune would smile on me and let this be the day she accepted callers. I knocked on her door and waited with bated breath.
The door swung open, and the butler smiled. He smiled! “Please, come in, Miss Delafield.”
I blinked in a stupor for a moment, hardly believing my good fortune. The butler led me into her sitting room, where the melodic vibrations of a harp filled the room with sweet music.
Harriet stood from behind the large instrument, passing the expensive furnishings and heavy damask drapes the color of the Royal Navy to greet me with a hug.
“I just sent my maid to fetch my bonnet so I might visit you. How did you know to come?” When she pulled back, her eyes widened. “Arabella, are you ill?”
“Just in spirit,” I said with a weak laugh. “How is it that you can play your music again? And how can you have visitors today?”
Harriet directed me to the sofa and sat beside me. “It’s all thanks to your Mr. Ashworth.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He wrote to my in-laws and now Mr. Lawrence has to allow me more freedoms. They threatened his inheritance if they heard of any mistreatment. Apparently, they want the absolute best for the mother of their future heir. Isn’t it wonderful? So much has changed for the better almost overnight.”
“Mr. Ashworth did that?” I stared in awe. That man never ceased to surprise me.
She grinned. “Perhaps he is not as terrible as you once thought.”
She knew my heart had been softening, but she would be surprised to learn how far I had fallen for the man. “I have much to tell you.” I shared in confidence about his confession, about his reading work, about how I had promised to meet him and had overslept.
“Is this not the worst scenario imaginable?” I felt my eyes welling once more with tears.
“I don’t know. If it was so terrible, then why do I feel jealous?”
“Of me?” I snorted. “What an absurd notion! I care for a literary critic who once had a very strong and scarring opinion about my writing. I care for him so much, and yet the opportunity to tell him about my books is gone. The whole situation is maddening.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps, but you are experiencing something I have only dreamed about.”
“What do you mean?”
Her smile turned wistful. “Falling in love.”
Fall? Yes, and it was enough to break me.
I blinked rapidly, but the tears escaped just the same. I took a handkerchief out of my reticule and dabbed at my eyes. “If only I had asked my maid to wake me. Now it might all come to naught.”
Harriet reached for my hand. “It could, but without the risk, you will never reap the reward. Don’t miss this opportunity. For my sake, Arabella. Do for yourself what I cannot do.”
“Oh, Harriet.”
“Don’t oh, Harriet me. My situation has improved, but I want more for you.”
“I don’t even know where to start. Even if I can convince Papa to take us to London for the Season, it won’t be for six months at the very least. His feelings for me could expire by then. Indeed, they might have already when he realized I had not kept my word in meeting him before he left.”
“If you can chase down a stranger and convince him to marry you, then you can find a way to tell Mr. Ashworth about your writing and about how you feel about him.” I opened my mouth to object, but Harriet stopped me. “Promise me.”
I sighed and sank back into her couch. “Very well. I will find a way to tell him.” If given the chance, I’d rather marry Rowan and keep my writing a secret, but Harriet was right. If I wanted the unconditional love that so few had, then I had to take the risk.
Harriet treated me to a platter of food before letting me leave, assuring me that her appetite had returned.
I was happy for her. It was good that I had come.
I had needed to see the world from her eyes for a moment and to realize that my story wasn’t over yet.
I could not be a weak protagonist who gave up at the climax of her story.
Upon returning to Elmhurst, I was greeted by Tabitha at the door, her face drawn and pale. “What is it?”
She motioned me inside and shut the door behind us. “I’m afraid it’s Mr. Clodwick.”
I froze. “Is he ill? Did he see another ghost?”
She shook her head. “He’s returned to Quillsbury.”
Now this I had not expected. “Did he say why?”
“He said that after losing Lady Farthington’s favor he had no reason to stay.”
I coughed. “He said that?” I shook my head in disbelief. He truly did not care about me at all then. Guilt and relief swirled briefly inside me, settling into a measure of peace. “Do not worry overmuch, Tabitha. It’s for the best.”
Tabitha raised a brow.
“At least now I will not have to think of a way to break our almost engagement.”
“Then you aren’t hurt by his departure?”
“I have been very foolish, Tabitha. I thank you for unconditional support, but now you may be at ease.”
Tabitha sighed, her relief palpable. “Well, that is one crisis averted. What about Papa? You have lost two suitors in one day.”
I chewed on my lip for a moment. An idea had formed on my ride home, and there was nothing to keep me from acting upon it. “Don’t worry, Tabitha. I have thought of something even Papa would approve of.”
It must’ve been the mischievous tone leaking into my words because Tabitha’s demeanor changed to one of suspicion. “What are you up to, Arabella Delafield?”
I continued my charge up the stairs. “I’m climbing out of my tower.”
“What?” Tabitha asked.
I glanced back long enough to see her hike up her skirts and chase after me.
For the first time all day, I smiled. “Come, we have a love letter to write.”
Even after the worst of storms, there was a rainbow to look forward to. I was about to chase mine.