Chapter 17
Enlightened Stages
“Listen to me,” Bridget was looking sternly at Arabella. “I am telling you this is the best solution.”
“I am not sure that this will work,” Arabella replied.
“If you want to achieve your goal, you must have some faith in me. Being a wallflower has its perks.”
“Is that so?” Arabella said and smiled.
“It is absolutely so,” Bridget said. “It gives you the opportunity to observe others, and I am telling you what I observed.”
Arabella was currently in her dressing room along with her sister. It was a few days after her wedding. Arabella welcomed the distraction of her sister’s visit. She was in dire need of a distraction.
First, she needed to take her mind off her wedding night. It was a hard task, an impossible feat, because it had surely been a memorable night. And one that hadn’t been repeated in the days that passed.
So Arabella was caught in a place where her body remembered and chased and craved that feeling, while the reality remained that her husband was daily occupied in his study after dinner. At least, in the meantime, he actually had dinner with her.
And the other thing, the one that Bridget was currently referring to, was that tonight it was the night they would go out with the Pembletons.
It was the first night of the agreement that she had with Gerald, one of the nights he had requested her role as a Duchess, and she was understandably nervous.
She was again reminded by the Duke of the paramount importance of winning Vera over and her role in this direction.
So Arabella’s task was trying to win a notoriously snobbish lady, while also attempting to ignore the inconvenient sensations her husband had awakened in her, sensations he seemed in no hurry to indulge again.
“Trust me, Arabella,” her sister’s voice brought her back to reality. “The Countess of Pembleton fancies herself as a fashionable woman. And despite the many flaws of her character, I’d say that in this department she manages to be absolutely flawless most of the time.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Arabella agreed. “Perhaps it’s that constant face she has, the one that speaks of a woman who permanently has the taste of lemons in her mouth, that distracts you from looking at the rest of her attire.”
“And yet she’s never seen in anything less than beautiful and elegant. Everything she wears, the rest of the ton copy. Look chic, compliment her appearance not with a generic way, but as if fashion savvy and you have your opening.”
Arabella looked at herself in the mirror.
Even before her wedding, Gerald had approved a budget for her wardrobe, wanting to make sure that she had the appearance of a Duchess that befitted his station.
Arabella finally had an unlimited budget for her appearance and, not from vanity but because Gerald was right, she made full use of that budget.
She still remembered the day that she entered Madame Claire’s shop. Never before had she dared to even set foot in that exclusive place. But now she boldly went forth and asked Madame Claire for her designs.
And here she was, dressed in one of the three gowns designed by this exquisite modiste. And she realized why this taciturn French woman charged as much as she did for a single gown. Arabella had never looked better.
While others tried to hide her ample curves into what was considered the standard of fashion, Madame Claire highlighted them in the most subtle of ways, and in the most tasteful manner.
She needed all the weapons at her disposal to win Vera over. And perhaps she could hit two birds with one stone if she could turn Gerald’s head to finally look at her.
“I am trusting you, Bridget on this,” Arabella said. “I never thought I would use fashion as a strategy, but if it what it takes…”
* * *
Later that evening, Arabella was quite satisfied to see that at least one of the birds was indeed hit with a stone. Because that exact expression that Gerald had as he watched her go down the stairs to meet him at the entrance of their mansion was the one she was aiming for.
It was momentary, of course. Gerald was very good at masking his emotions and reactions, and yet Arabella was very quick to catch it. That slight drop of a jaw and the widening of his eyes as he took her in.
“I see, Your Grace,” he said when she was finally in front of him, “that you are committed to your new role.”
“My new role has cost you a small fortune, so the least you can expect from me is commitment,” she replied.
Gerald’s eyes swept over her one last time, drinking in the deep violet gown that clung to her form. Then, with a measured step, he offered his arm, guiding her toward the waiting carriage. They were expected for tea at the Pembleton Manor before they headed to the opera.
“You do remember what you have to do?” Gerald asked.
“You have already reminded me more than a hundred times,” Arabella said.
“I was merely making sure, Your Grace, that you are not distracted,” Gerald smirked at her, a devastating thing.
Arabella thought she should really talk to other married women to see if they, too, were inclined to hit and kiss their husbands at the same time. He was clearly toying with her, and it made her furious and hot at the same time.
“You don’t need to worry about my focus, Your Grace,” she said with her most saccharine smile. “I have already seen this particular opera, and other than some particular moments, it offers little distraction.”
He would be quick to reply if they had not arrived in front of the Pembleton manor in the most fashionable area of Mayfair.
Arabella would have deduced herself, even if Gerald hadn’t told her, that the Earl of Pembleton had managed to amass a great fortune since it was written in every gilded corner.
They were shown to the drawing room, and the moment they entered, the temperature dropped. The Earl stood up to greet them, his Countess in tow. But while the host was reserved but polite, Vera did nothing to hide her displeasure at Arabella’s presence in her home.
It was exactly as Arabella suspected it would unfold. In Vera’s eyes, she was nothing more than a lower lady who had gained a higher station that most probably she was unworthy of.
They sat down for tea, and small talk started. Well, at least mostly on Arabella’s side, as she endeavored to engage Vera in a meaningful conversation, but it proved an impossible task.
At the same time, across the little table, Gerald was faring much better.
It was obvious that this was merely an opportunity for him to present his proposal to the Earl.
And he was delivering in the most faultless manner.
Up till that moment, Arabella didn’t have the chance to observe Gerald under this light.
She had heard, of course, that they all called him ruthless not only because of the way he treated his family but also because he was quite cutthroat when it came to business. And for once, the rumors were true. It was almost mesmerizing to watch.
“You are suggesting, Duke of Albury,” the Earl set his cup on the saucer, “that such an investment would return me this amount in two years? Quite ambitious.”
Gerald’s gaze did not hesitate. His voice carried calm and certainty as he leaned forward.
“Ambitious, perhaps, but not reckless.”
“You haven’t taken into consideration the market fluctuations.”
“On the contrary. I have accounted for that as well as the tariffs recently imposed, and even contingencies for unforeseen complications.”
The Earl seemed quite impressed, and so was Arabella. At least she knew that he was indeed working on things in his study, other than ignoring her. Gerald seemed to be holding his part on this outing. Arabella had to do hers.
“I must admit, Lady Pembleton,” Arabella turned to Vera with her most sincere look, “that I specifically asked Madame Claire to adjust one of your gowns for me.”
That got Vera’s attention finally. Only then did she seem to take in Arabella’s appearance.
Arabella herself had never had the means to appear in high fashion, but she always had an eye for what was elegant, even though not especially daring in terms of fashion.
And Arabella made a mental note to give a token of appreciation to Madame Claire because Vera’s eyes widened as well.
“Your Grace,” Vera still hurt calling her that, “you have chosen a very daring color.”
“Well, I think that one should choose based on the colors matching their appearance instead of the fashion dictated.”
That was all that was needed to engage Vera in conversation. After all, Arabella was always on top of gossip, and rating the appearances of various ladies of the town in regard to fashion was something that piqued Vera’s snobbish interests.
By the time they were ready to get on their carriages and move to the opera, Vera had twined her arm around Arabella’s and chuckled at every sharp remark.
When Vera proposed that they should all share a carriage to keep the conversation going, Gerald looked at Arabella with what seemed like approval. And as much as Arabella wanted to consider herself an independent woman, she felt content at getting that look from him.
* * *
The evening continued pleasurably, and they were having refreshments before the opera started. The conversation was light and witty.
“So,” Vera said, looking at them, “it would be interesting to know how the sunshine of the ton met her Duke.”
Arabella kept her smile in place, but inside she was panicking. It didn’t make much of a story to say exactly how the Duke barged in and demanded her hand in marriage, based on a drunkenly produced contract.
“You would be terribly disappointed, Lady Pembleton,” it was the Duke who answered the question. “As most things in my life, meeting Arabella was by design.”
Arabella looked up at him, and he smirked at her. He was going to tell a slightly different story ,and he was asking her to play along.