Chapter 3
“Did you see Rosamund Linton last night?” Clara asked as she took a delicate bite of her cake.
Arabella shook her head, absently stirring her tea.
“I didn’t pay much attention to her. She wasn’t…not really on my mind.”
It had been hard to concentrate at the ball to the point Arabella had left about half an hour after arriving, her mind still spinning from the offer the Duke of Hartwood had given her. She was still trying to figure out if it had really happened. It felt as if she’d been having a strange dream.
But her arm hurt from pinching it so much. It really had occurred. And Arabella was still stunned.
“I thought she was going to have a fit, she was so red,” Clara giggled. “She was furious that the duke didn’t give her any attention. It was like she couldn’t comprehend he would give someone else his undivided time.”
Arabella hummed her agreement, not really listening. She just stared into the distance, the sound of the spoon hitting her cup clinking in her head.
“Arabella?”
“Hmm?”
Clara frowned at her, tucking a dark curl behind her ear, but it still stuck out despite Clara trying to straighten it out.
“Are you all right? You’re looking out of sorts.”
“Oh. Right.” Arabella put her spoon down, aware that she’d tipped tea onto the saucer. “Forgive me, Clara. I’m rather…I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
Her friend giggled and took another bite of cake.
“I’m not surprised. Given the duke went straight to you after he turned Rosamund away. I was going to ask you what happened, but you left before I could find you. What was going on with that?”
Arabella hesitated. She and the duke had agreed on what they were going to do with his offer, and the idea was to keep it secret.
However, Clara Whitby was her closest friend and confidant.
They shared everything, no matter how uncomfortable it was.
And Arabella needed to talk to someone about the madness of the previous evening.
She picked up her cup, only to put it down again when she noticed her hand was trembling.
“What on earth is wrong?” Clara laid her hand over Arabella’s. “I’ve not seen you like this since your father died.”
“The duke and I…” Arabella took a deep breath. “We’re courting now.”
It sounded so strange to say out loud, but the words hit her hard, and Arabella felt herself swaying in her chair. Clara let out an incredulous laugh and waved a hand.
“I…forgive me, I think I’ve gone mad. I could’ve sworn you said you were courting the Duke of Hartwood.”
“I am.” Arabella then added hurriedly, “But it’s not in the way that you think. There is a reason for it.”
“Oh, I’m delighted to hear it,” Clara said dryly. She sat back and raised her eyebrows at Arabella. “Why did you even agree to court him when you’ve declared that he played a part in your father’s death? I don’t understand your reasoning.”
“It wasn’t my plan!”
“What are you saying?”
Arabella sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. Maybe if she said it out loud it would sink in, and she’d be able to realize what was going on. Clara would call her mad, but at least she would have someone who would understand.
“His Grace doesn’t want to be pushed into courting Rosamund Linton,” Arabella explained. “But his mother and Rosamund aren’t listening to him. He ended up blurting out that he was courting someone else and, in his panic, chose me.”
“You make it sound like nobody would choose you willingly,” Clara said wryly.
“Well, that’s the impression I got. Anyway, he said he’d make a deal with me. We pretend to be courting, and I’ll help him drive Rosamund away and give him some breathing room. In return, he’ll pay off some of my family’s more pressing debts.”
Her friend blinked before her eyes widened.
“And you accepted it?”
“It would be beneficial for both of us, and our debts get smaller and more manageable if we do that.”
“But with everything going on…”
“This is going to be more beneficial for me,” Arabella continued, picking up her cup and taking a sip, relieved that her hand had stopped trembling. “It means I get to be around him more, and I can find out more about Pa’s death and his current situation.”
“You’re going to get close…”
“So I can get answers for what happened.”
“So you think that the duke is involved?” Clara breathed.
Arabella bit her lip. She didn’t want to think about it like that, but she was still certain that the duke had something to do with it. The closer she was to him, the easier it would be to get the answers she needed.
Clara, though, didn’t look too happy about it.
“Aren’t you worried that you’re going to get into trouble once you’re caught?” she whispered. “What if the duke figures out what you’re trying to do?”
“I won’t be caught.”
“How do you know? What if this goes wrong, and you end up in a worse situation than you already are?” Clara laid her hand over Arabella’s. “Please, Belle, don’t do anything more stupid than you already are.”
Arabella snorted.
“You think what I’m doing is stupid?”
“You’re opening yourself up for getting into further trouble. If you back off now, you can save your reputation. That’s worth more than the debts you’ve had to shoulder.”
She made a lot of sense, but Arabella knew that she couldn’t walk away. She had to do this, to get proper justice for Pa. His death wasn’t an accident, or by his own hand. Her gut told her this was more sinister.
The coroner wasn’t going to listen to her. Not without proof.
“Just be careful,” Clara said, giving Arabella a worried look. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You’ll be broken by this if it doesn’t work.”
“I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Even as she said that, it sounded hollow to Arabella’s ears. Hopefully, Clara hadn’t picked up on it as well.
Just then, the door opened abruptly, making both women jump, and Philip Fairleigh strode in, wearing an expression of annoyance.
Arabella bit back a groan. She didn’t want to talk to her brother this morning.
He seemed to be too wrapped up in his own world, and he kept telling Arabella that she needed to go out and find herself a husband.
How was she supposed to do that if they didn’t have any money?
Wealth meant she got a more beneficial marriage, and they had practically nothing.
To her brother, Arabella was merely a pawn. He just seemed to be more fixated on other things than what was important. Arabella wondered how long he was going to bury his head when it came to their debts.
It was a shame as well. Physically, he looked like their father had done in his younger years.
But when it came to their personalities, Philip was definitely the weakest. Arabella had seen her brother be manipulated into awkward situations when they were younger, and sometimes she had a feeling he hadn’t learned anything from it.
“What is this that I’m hearing?” he demanded.
“What are you talking about?” Arabella stood up and smoothed her skirts down. “You’re not making any sense, so why don’t you speak more clearly?”
“You’re courting the Duke of Hartwood? Without my knowledge or consent?”
So it was that. Sighing, Arabella turned to Clara, who got the unspoken message. She stood and gathered her reticule.
“I’ll take my leave, then,” she said, squeezing Arabella’s hand. “Shall I see you later today? You can come to tea at my home.”
“That would be lovely. I’ll come by at four.”
Giving her one last smile, Clara left the room, giving Philip a brisk nod as she stepped around him. Philip waited until she was gone before turning back to Arabella.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t say anything to me about it,” he said sharply. “I’m supposed to know when you’re being courted, especially when it’s a duke!”
“It’s up to me how I handle my personal life,” Arabella replied stiffly. “You told me I should find someone to walk out with, and I have. And I might’ve found a solution for us as well.”
“What solution?”
Arabella weighed up her words before she spoke. If she could get Philip to believe what she said and back off, then she would be able to have less scrutiny.
“Maybe I can get His Grace to help pay off our debts,” she said quickly.
Philip raised his eyebrows.
“You think he would agree to it?”
“Maybe some of it. He really likes me, and he wants to help.” Arabella crossed her fingers behind her back. “If he helps with some of it, then maybe we might be more financially comfortable.”
Her brother scowled and paced back and forth, running his fingers through his hair. He looked agitated, and Arabella wondered why that was. When it came to Pa’s death, Philip was under the same impression as everyone else: Pa took his own life.
He didn’t blame anyone for it except the man who died.
If he knew that Arabella was planning to learn more about the death, he would’ve refused the match immediately.
While Arabella would simply ignore him—she didn’t care for his thoughts on the matter—she needed her brother on her side so he wouldn’t suspect anything and try to stop her.
Not that she listened to him, anyway. Their relationship was fraught enough without that.
“This is not helpful,” Philip said, shaking his head in disappointment. “I wish you’d told me about this before it happened.”
“Why? So you could tell me what to do?” Arabella challenged.
“Because I’d found a solution for our debts as well, but it’s of no use now.”
That made her frown, confusion washing over her. Philip had shown very little care for the debts, so why had he chosen now? Before she could ask him what he was talking about, the door opened and a tall, slim man with fair hair and a thin mustache entered the room.
He was handsome and well-dressed, and the smile he wore was pleasant. He walked with a confident, smooth stride that indicated he was used to commanding an audience in whichever room he walked into.
“Forgive me for intruding, Fairleigh,” he said with a smile. “I got worried when I heard raised voices.”
“I’m just scolding my sister for not letting me know about something as important as a courtship.”
Arabella glared at Philip.
“Do you need to talk about me like that, Philip? That’s not something we discuss in front of strangers.”
Philip ignored her, indicating the gentleman behind him.
“This is Lord Sebastian Vaughn. My sister, Arabella Fairleigh.”
There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Arabella couldn’t put her finger on it. And she didn’t like the way he was smiling at her. Somehow, it didn’t reach his eyes. Nevertheless, she swallowed back her discomfort and curtsied.
“My lord. Forgive my brother. He does tend to shift the blame onto other people.”
Vaughn’s mouth twitched.
“And siblings don’t quarrel all the time, do they?”
“I wouldn’t call it that…”
“Also, congratulations on your courtship.” He gave her a slight bow, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m sure you and I will be able to become more acquainted as time goes on.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Duke of Hartwood. He’s my cousin.” Vaughn’s smile widened. “I’m the next heir to the duchy.”
Arabella stared. She hadn’t expected that. She looked at Philip, who was pointedly looking anywhere but her. What had he planned with Lord Vaughn? There was something not quite right going on here.
She wasn’t about to question it, though. She was more focused on her own plan of getting close to the duke. Which might mean she had to ingratiate herself with his relatives.
“Then I hope we can be better acquainted,” she said. “It would be nice to be introduced to His Grace’s family.”
Vaughn’s eyes twinkled.
“I’m sure it would be,” he said softly.