Chapter 25
Garden Disappointments
Arabella walked away, barely registering the murmurs accompanying her as she walked out of the room.
She was shaking, her whole body taken over by rage. That insolent man, daring to talk about Gerald like that, implying that he was…
She ran off as fast as she could, or else she might go back there and do far worse than throw cold soup in his face.
Her pulse was still ringing in her ears, deafening her to everything else. And perhaps that was good. To hear others dare to gossip about her action would make her furious.
Joseph deserved what he had coming to him. He insulted Gerald, publicly tried to ridicule him, and tried to drag her into the mud with him.
She walked away in fury, and her footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. And the further away she went, the more the echoes of her departure faded.
She saw the hallway ahead of her, the sunny exit shedding sunlight onto the wooden panels, illuminating the doorframe in a heavenly way. She needed to get out and breathe.
The moment the sun rays hit her skin, most of her anger evaporated. She was never a person to be shaken by anger, after all. This might be the first time that she had actually acted on such an impulse.
Only then did she realize what she had done. Did she actually throw soup on a gentleman before guests? She did. Arabella replayed the scene as if it were an out-of-body experience.
She remembered sitting there, listening to Joseph hurl all these accusations against Gerald. It took everything from her to refrain from speaking her mind, but her whole body tensed. When Joseph blatantly said he was abused, she lost all composure.
She picked up her bowl and was very inclined to throw it exactly as it was, not just its contents. But luckily, she managed to control herself as much as possible.
The next thing she remembered was Joseph’s astonished face, soup running down his nose and onto the expensive coat that had been paid for with Gerald’s money.
Right there in the small garden, she felt a wave of satisfaction, the memory of Joseph’s utter humiliation still sweet in her memory.
But then realization dawned on her. She had caused a scene. And not just a verbal altercation, she had outright behaved in the most vulgar, improper way, no matter how Joseph deserved that.
“Oh no!” she muttered to herself. “What have I done?”
The whole room had watched her throw soup like a petulant toddler. She still saw their surprised faces, some of them already smirking with delight at her slip.
“No, no, no, no,” panic started to take over. “This is not happening.”
But it did, and she had to face the repercussions of her action. Only then did she realize the full extent of that rash gesture. She didn’t help Gerald. She fully exposed him.
“Oh, Arabella,” she chastised herself. “Why? Just why?”
The weight of responsibility was so great that she felt her chest tightening. She could not breathe properly and sought somewhere to hold on so that she wouldn’t collapse on the ground.
She found a marble bench and steadied herself with both hands on the back.
“Breathe, Arabella, breathe.”
It would be even worse if she fainted now. That would make for a spectacle, for sure, and she would be accused of being dramatic on top of it.
She forced a deep breath into her lungs and exhaled slowly. She fought back the tears that were ready to fall and kept a steady rhythm of her breaths.
After a while, her breathing came back to normal, but her body was still shaking, still on edge. She started pacing into the small garden, unable to stand still for even a moment.
She had no idea what to do now; there was no correct etiquette that she had been taught regarding this situation. No etiquette instructor had ever thought it necessary to warn a lady against throwing soup at a gentleman’s face.
She did exactly as she was accused of. She confirmed, in the most obvious way, every single thing that everyone was saying behind her back. She was nothing but low-born, completely improper, and unfit to be a Duchess.
And yet, this wasn’t the thing that really undid her. It was a simple realization that caused her more emotional pain: she had broken the agreement she had with Gerald.
Such as it was, the arrangement for their marriage was that she would escort him as his wife to maintain appearances. The plan was simple: three events where she would demonstrate absolute controlled behavior to help him evade certain circumstances and reach his goal.
And she was close. She was so close. She had helped him with the Pembletons, she had demonstrated excellent behavior at the engagement party despite the scheming of his family, and this wedding breakfast was the last one.
It was more than a deal now. She had promised to help him as his wife and partner in this. And he, despite all the skepticism that he harbored all his life, had chosen to trust her.
Gerald may not love her as she did, or even appreciate her as a wife, but he trusted her, perhaps for the first time in his life. And she had absolutely failed him at the worst possible moment.
“Oh, God,” she felt panic rising again inside her, and she was completely exhausted from fighting it off.
“There you are!”
Her body stiffened at the sound of that voice. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. She was not ready to face him, not ready for his anger and his coldness, and that look of disappointment in his green eyes.
“Arabella?”
Arabella took one deep breath and looked down to gather what was left of her composure before facing him. She braced for the accusations and the repercussions.
“Your Grace,” she heard her voice shaking, “I am so sorry. I really don’t know what came over me. I mean, I do know, but that doesn’t mean it’s an excuse for the way I behaved, because I know my behavior-”
“Arabella,” he tried.
“I know my behavior was inexcusable. I should have known better than-”
“If you could just breathe for a moment.”
“I just didn’t stop to think how that would reflect on you. I just wanted him to stop talking, and I know that was not the way to-”
“I think it’s very important that you take a little breath there,” he interrupted her again.
“I know,” her voice was now shaking. “I know I ruined everything, and-”
“I wouldn’t go to that extreme, but if you would just-”
“Perhaps it’s better to go back inside and ask for forgiveness and to take responsibility for what I-”
“Absolutely not!” his voice echoed in the garden, and she stopped talking.
She finally looked up into his eyes with immense shame. What she saw was not anger, exactly as she was afraid of. She bit down on her lip, and her nails dug into her palm as she tried not to break down.
“Look at me, Arabella!”
She truly wished the earth would split in half and engulf her in eternal peace rather than face this moment. But she had to take responsibility for what she had done. So, she looked up.
“Listen to me, Arabella, and listen to me well,” Gerald said in a serious tone. “You will not ask these people for forgiveness, because you owe them none.”
Arabella was quite confused by what she was hearing, so she just stood absolutely still.
“You will not claim responsibility for what happened because it was not your fault.”
Arabella gaped at him.
“Joseph got exactly what he deserved. In fact, I have to congratulate you on showing restraint and not hurling the whole bowl with its contents in his face.”
“That was exactly what my first impulse was to do.”
“And we shall both live to regret that you didn’t, though I’m sure Joseph may present more opportunities to have things thrown in his face in the future.”
Arabella kept looking at Gerald while her mind tried to fully process what he had just said. To say that it was not what she expected would be quite the understatement.
“Excuse me, what?” Arabella felt the need to demand clarification.
“Well, Joseph has one of those faces that you really want to punch even before they open their mouth. And when they do, the only thing that happens is it confirms that desire.”
Arabella really didn’t understand exactly what was going on. Gerald saw the confusion on her face and smiled.
“There is one thing that really disappoints me.”
Arabella frowned because she knew what was coming. He would now accuse her of failing him, of showing utter inability to follow a simple plan: appear at the wedding, go through lunch, and then make a clean exit.
“You could have waited for the main course,” Gerald said thoughtfully. “There were some options that would have made a more impactful statement.”
“Wait for what?”
“I mean, not hot dishes, of course, we’re not savages, but some sauces showed great potential as throwing material,” Gerald said with a smirk.
Arabella searched his face to see if what she was hearing and what she was seeing matched, while she was testing reality at the same time. Gerald gazed upon her with an amused look. Not the slightest hint of anger or accusation, just pure mirth.
The weight in her soul slowly lifted. Gerald was genuinely not angry at her. He didn’t mind that she had caused the scene; in fact, he seemed rather amused by it.
She felt a small crack in the heavy mask of responsibility that she was wearing, and then a hesitant smile bloomed on her face. Upon seeing that smile, Gerald just nodded, inviting her to join him.
“Well, I suppose,” she said, her voice still fragile, “that I could have waited for the fish to be served. It would have had a more audible effect on his face and perhaps stuck for a few seconds. And then there is, of course, the issue of smell.”
“I do believe,” Gerald said, smiling, “but the fish would be an excellent option. Please make note: the next time you want to throw food at people, wait for the main course.”
“There are, of course, some good options in the dessert part of the menu, but I always find that sweets are wasted on bitter people.”
“Very wise, Your Grace.”
They looked at each other for a few moments, understanding passing between them. Her body relaxed, his shoulders lost their tension, and she could finally unfurl her fingers that had been ruining her gloves.
“Nonetheless,” Arabella said, “I am sorry for what happened.”
“Honestly, don’t be. It was rather radical, but it played some part.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
Gerald smirked and shook his head.
“I mean that there were more subtle ways to convey that, but you throwing that soup and defending me so fiercely did the trick.”
“Trick?” Arabella’s peace was short-lived. “What kind of trick would that be?”
“It now seems that the whole ton knows that the Duchess of Albury is a very devoted wife.”
Arabella smiled, a fragile bloom on her lips. A whole new feeling came over her, an icy, cold realization. It made her body feel as if it were trying to recalibrate everything.
Gerald adjusted his cufflinks and walked around the marble bench with ease before turning to her.
“I was quite surprised to see such a fiery response, but I suppose it was necessary.”
Then he looked at her, searching her face.
“I must congratulate you on your performance, Your Grace.”
“My… my performance?” Arabella was now shaking.
“An impeccable demonstration of a deeply devoted wife. I didn’t know that taking you to the opera would have such an effect on your performance, but I suppose some dramatics could not be helped.”
If she was struggling to breathe before, now she had the wind completely taken from her lungs. Gerald thought that this was all the performance she was playing as a role.
“You were convincing,” he kept twisting the knife. “The loyal wife, deeply in love. I mean, if we really wanted my reputation as a cruel Duke to be expelled, that was quite an effective way to do so.”
“Of… of course, Your Grace,” she muttered lowly.
Her tone made him look at her, searching her face, and she made sure there was nothing to be found, not her pain, not her real feelings.
“I am rather pleased that you are satisfied with the outcome,” she said, trying to remove emotion from her voice. “I suppose we have concluded our initial agreement.”
He seemed taken aback by this realization, then looked down and nodded.
“Three events,” he recounted the agreement.
“Three events,” she repeated. “This was the last one.”
“Yes, as per the agreement, this was the last one.”
Silence settled between them. Arabella mustered all of her willpower to keep her eyes steady, to not allow even a moment of weakness. If she did, she would crack; if she cracked, she would cry; if she cried, he would know.
Gerald looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t. He just studied her face. Arabella felt nervous under the scrutiny. She had better finish this now.
“If I understand correctly,” she said, her voice surprisingly even, “you are satisfied with the outcome.”
He straightened slightly, measured, and composed.
“Everything has proceeded as intended,” he said at last.
“Yes indeed.” It was painful to admit. “Then, according to our agreement, from now on we should… we should go on our separate ways.”
Gerald didn’t answer immediately. He forced silence upon them, heavy, loaded. There was a flicker of hope. Perhaps he, too, was reluctant to be separated from her.
“Yes, that was what we agreed on,” Gerald said. “Of course, you will still bear my name, and you are still the Duchess of Albury, which means you will get the monthly allowance allocated for you.”
Money. He was talking to her about money and titles. After all that they had been through, they were back to where they started. Perhaps even worse, because of all they had been through.
“You are most generous, Your Grace.”
“Is there anything else you require?”
Arabella wanted to scream in his face what she truly wanted. She wanted quiet mornings and casual dinners. She wanted small laughter and easy comfort, walks in the maze, and making love at night.
“No, Your Grace. I need nothing more.”