Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Arabella sat with Timothy in the morning room, playing a game of cards.
It had been his suggestion, wanting to do something fun, and she went along with it for two reasons.
The first was that she rather enjoyed the child’s company, and she was eager to further develop their relationship—that was, after all, what she had promised when marrying Caspian.
The second reason, and the most important, was that she needed to distract herself.
“Arabella?” Timothy said to her.
She did not respond. She had six cards in her right hand, a table between herself and Timothy with the deck of cards sitting in the middle, and a pot of tea for them to share. Her saucer was filled to the brim, untouched since she sat down, likely cold by that point.
Across from her, Timothy fidgeted as he always did, but somehow still managed to focus on the game at hand. He was excitable, full of energy, and loved games.
“Arabella?” Timothy said again. “It is your turn.”
Again, she did not respond.
As had been the case for all last evening and for all that morning, her mind was focused squarely on Caspian.
Even now, hours later, she felt his lips pressed against her own.
She felt his hand through the back of her hair as he gripped her.
Most of all, she felt his fingers as they curled gently inside of her so that her body still tingled and spasmed as if the two of them were back in the foyer, locked together, engaging in unspeakable acts from which Arabella’s thoughts could not escape.
How did that happen… Why did it happen? More importantly, why did it stop?
Arabella was thrilled when she had taken control of the moment.
Finally realizing what she wanted, she forced Caspian to do as she knew he wanted, and for a few perfect moments, everything felt so right.
As confusing as their marriage was, and as difficult to understand, the simplicity of those moments when they kissed, and he ravished her, made it all worth it.
And then, unexpectedly, Caspian faltered.
That was what troubled Arabella the most and frustrated her. Since the marriage began, she had been so committed to her independence, to the need of not relying on anyone, that giving that up so Caspian could have her felt like a betrayal of who she was.
Worse still, she had not cared.
Maybe I was wrong? Is that why Caspian refused me?
She had little understanding of male temperaments, so she did not know what to think. But as the hours stretched by, as that moment between them became little more than a distant memory, Arabella began to consider the very real fact that she had made a horrible mistake.
This marriage was only ever meant to be convenient. Caspian clearly wanted it to be. So, why fight for or want that which was wrong? Why give up her independence when that was exactly what Arabella craved the most?
I know why… Oh, how I know, she thought as her body shuddered once more, as her thighs tingled, and as her mouth grew moist because she could not stop thinking about that kiss…
“Arabella!” Timothy cried. “What are you doing?”
The sudden exclamation brought her back into the room. She blinked as she centered herself, unsurprised to find Timothy glowering at her.
“Oh…” She gave her head a shake. “I am sorry, Timothy, I… Did you say it is my turn?”
“For over a minute now,” he pouted. “Are you not having fun?”
“I am,” she assured him. “I am just a little tired, that’s all.”
“We can do something else,” he offered. “If you would prefer?”
She smiled at the offer. That he wanted to spend time with her at all was hugely significant, and that he was willing to change the game so she might have fun was even more so.
“No, no,” she said. “This is perfect. Just let me…” She looked at her hand of cards, pretending to consider her next move. Unfortunately, she was more than a little lost, and she doubted that she had the wherewithal to keep her focus. “What are we playing again?”
“Cribbage!” Timothy said with frustration. “You said—”
“I jest,” she laughed. “Just teasing you.”
He scowled at her, but it was done playfully.
They played for another thirty minutes, during which time Arabella lost every game. Not that she minded, because Timothy loved winning.
Throughout that time, Arabella truly did her best to stay present, but every time she heard a noise from somewhere within the house, she stiffened, sat up, and listened carefully, forever wondering if it might be Caspian and if he might come and see her.
He did no such thing, of course, and it was not a surprise. In fact, if she knew her husband as well as she was starting to do, Arabella would not have even been surprised if he avoided her for at least that day. Possibly even longer.
A sudden knock at the door had her sitting up again, a moment of hope and excitement found, only for it to wither and die when she turned to find a footman standing there.
“Your Grace,” he said with a short bow. “I am sorry to disturb you, but you have a visitor.”
“Oh.” She forced a smile and pushed down her disappointment. “Who is it?”
“Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Marlborough, and Lady Ashcombe. Shall I send them in?”
“They are here to see me?” she asked with surprise.
“That is what they said, Your Grace.”
Arabella pushed her lips together in thought.
She had met the Dowager a few times, and she liked the woman well enough.
As Caspian’s cousin, Arabella knew how important he was to her; possibly, she was the only person to whom he might listen about anything.
As for Lady Ashcombe? That was more of a surprise.
Arabella had met the lady briefly the previous evening, but they spoke little and were practically strangers.
I wonder what they want…
“Yes, send them in,” Arabella said, knowing that she had no choice.
A moment later, the Dowager and Lady Ashcombe entered the room. The Dowager headed straight for Timothy, who tried to dodge around her, but she blocked him and hugged the child.
Lady Ashcombe was more reserved, but she made for Arabella and offered her a small curtsy. “We are sorry for the suddenness of this visit, Your Grace,” she said. “But Penelope was insistent that you would not mind.”
“Of course I was,” the Dowager said as she released Timothy. “I have not paid a visit since the wedding, which is too long in my estimation. Where is that husband of yours?”
“Oh…” Arabella resisted the urge to look away as if in shame. “I have not seen him this morning. Likely, he is in his study.”
“Of course he is,” the Dowager sighed. “He works far too hard when he ought to be spending time with his wife and nephew. Do not even think of running off—” She pointed a finger at Timothy, who was in the process of sneaking from the room.
His smile was wicked, and Arabella was certain that he would duck his head and sprint from the room. But the Dowager raised a warning eyebrow at the boy, and he skulked back toward her.
“I will speak to Caspian later,” the Dowager said with a firm nod. “For now… What is this?” She eyed the cards on the table. “Ah, yes, you said you enjoyed playing games.”
“Timothy certainly does,” Arabella chuckled.
“As do I. What do you say, Sybil?” The Dowager raised her eyebrow at her friend. “Are we keen for a game of whist, perhaps? Seeing as there are four of us. Timothy, be a dear and set the table. There is a good boy.”
Arabella was always impressed by how the Dowager took charge of the room. She did it so smoothly and with such confidence and assertiveness that Arabella could hardly believe it.
That is who I want to be…
That was why she needed to forget what had happened last evening with Caspian. For a moment, she had wanted to be under his control, as if that was something to covet. She could not let that happen again.
Within minutes, the four of them were seated around the table, playing a game of whist. It was a game that Arabella was rather good at, and she felt a sudden desire to win, as if she needed to prove something to both herself and the Dowager.
Better still, Timothy was on her team, and he liked to win even more than she did.
However, as she should have expected, the Dowager was just as impressive at the game, and she commanded the table as she did every other aspect of her life.
“So, tell me, Your Grace, how goes the marriage so far?” the Dowager asked as she placed down a card to match the suit of the one that sat face-up on the table.
“Oh…” Arabella hesitated. “It is going well.”
“It looked as if it was,” the Dowager noted with a coy smile. “Last evening, you and Caspian appeared a perfect couple. I could scarcely believe it.”
“And how the two of you left,” Lady Ashcombe added with a smile that was knowing. She placed down her own card, flashing her eyes as she did. “Lord Carlisle was certainly put out.”
“As he should be,” the Dowager said sharply. “He overstepped, and Caspian was right to put the man in his place. Not that it was not a surprise, mind you. I cannot remember a time that Caspian would court controversy like that.”
“He…” Arabella’s throat was restricted. “He was merely doing his duty. It was not so surprising, truly.”
The Dowager eyed Arabella over her cards. “Yes, his duty. I am sure that is all it was.”
The woman was fishing for information. Or perhaps she was merely looking to confirm what she suspected to be true. Where she knew well the reason for Arabella and Caspian’s marriage, it looked as if she was starting to consider that something else had come of it.
Arabella would have liked nothing more than to have opined on how far she and Caspian had come. She would have loved to have spoken his praises, asserting without fear of overreach that things were going better than expected. But she was careful to do so.
Again, the way that Caspian had fled last night sat with her. Whatever she might have thought was happening between them was clearly not the case, and as Arabella was determined not to be the type who relied on others, she would not yearn for that which her husband did not want.
“You may ask him, if you like,” she said as she placed down her own card. “But I am sure that Caspian will say the same. Things are going well, and that is enough for now.” She looked pointedly at the Dowager, almost daring her to contradict the statement.
“Clearly they are,” the Dowager agreed. “I noticed it as soon as I entered this house. It is more…” She laughed and shook her head. “There is certainly more life to it. Whatever you are doing, it is working. I suggest you keep it up.”
The praise was welcome, even if it stung.
“Thank you,” Arabella said politely. “I appreciate it.”
They continued playing for another hour, throughout which Arabella felt the Dowager’s knowing stare probing her. It was as if she did not believe Arabella’s modesty, and as if she was daring her to be more than she was willing to show.
I will be that, only not with Caspian. But everything else… I will prove that I am worthy of being a duchess.
When the game ended, the Dowager sent for the footman.
“Tell His Grace that I will be joining him shortly in his study,” she said. “And if he tries to refuse, be sure to tell him that it is not a request.”
Again, Arabella could not help but look at the woman with sheer admiration. She was so powerful, so in control…
“Sybil, might you wait here with Her Grace and Timothy for a few moments? I will not be long.” She then smiled at Arabella. “As always, it was a pleasure seeing you, Arabella. I pray that the next time, you prove what I suspect…” A raised eyebrow. “That you are exactly what Caspian needs.”
With those words, she swept from the room, leaving behind a gaping void that could not be filled, so that all Arabella could do was stare at where the Dowager had just been, her determination soaring as she decided without hesitation that she would one day be the same.
Most importantly, she would never be controlled again, nor would she want to be. Even if that meant giving up any intrepid thoughts about Caspian, herself, and what might have been…