Chapter Fourteen
P
Arabella accompanied Lady Lampton to Dr. Scorseby’s house two days after he had come to the Park to look in on the children.
She didn’t know why she had been chosen to take the short journey and not Lady Lampton’s abigail.
Perhaps the countess feared the servants’ loyalties to the Jonquil family would mean none of them would keep her secret.
Was this the future Arabella had to look forward to?
Being the repository of the family secrets, dancing around the things they didn’t tell each other.
It was not what she had imagined all those years ago when she had told the earl how desperately she’d wanted to be part of his home and family.
This was not belonging. Perhaps someday she would find her elusive dream.
She waited in the front sitting room of Dr. Scorseby’s home while Lady Lampton spoke in the next room with him about whatever was ailing her.
The sitting room overlooked the street beyond.
The house did not sit near the market cross but was close enough for many people to pass by.
Arabella knew any number of them from her many long walks to and from town and about the neighborhood.
The earl had even occasionally taken her up alongside him in his curricle.
During those drives, she had allowed herself to pretend she was his daughter passing an afternoon with her father.
She would imagine them returning to the Park and receiving the enthusiastic welcome home he always received from his family.
Sometimes when watching the people in Collingham, as she was doing then, she would catch herself looking for him only to have to remind herself again that he was gone.
Two gentlemen walked past Dr. Scorseby’s front window, both of whom she knew on sight.
Charlie Jonquil was as easy to recognize as all his brothers were: tall, lean, golden haired, though his was almost a bit ginger.
Beside him was Mr. Lancaster, whom she could have picked out in a crowd, with his authoritative, military gait, golden curls, broad shoulders, and heart-fluttering smile.
She watched him as he walked, easily picturing him at the prow of a ship.
How quickly and often her thoughts returned to him. He made her laugh. He set her instantly at ease, something few people did. She looked forward to his company, laughed at the memory of his jesting and banter. And she could not fully put from her mind that moment in the corridor.
He’d held her in his arms for a fleeting moment. Her heart pounded at the recollection. How often she had relived that moment, imagined it happening again, then scolded herself for being ridiculous. It had been an accident. Nothing more.
Yet his repeated return to her side, their pleasant conversations, had not been unintentional. He sought her out. With him, she didn’t feel alone.
Outside on the walk, Mr. Lancaster said something to Charlie. He grinned. Charlie laughed. On they walked, their camaraderie clear. He was so kind to Charlie. He was kind to everyone. And quick-witted. And funny. Thoughtful.
Watching him disappear up the street, she had to admit to herself that she was a little bit in love with him. She wasn’t pining or wasting away, but her heart was pricked with a whisper of likely unrequited affection, and there was little to be done about it.
She was a poor relation with a pity-gained position as an unneeded lady’s companion. He was a navy man with his own estate and the highest of connections. You must be reasonable, she reminded herself.
A door opened out of sight down the corridor, followed by footsteps.
Lady Lampton returned to the sitting room, Dr. Scorseby arriving directly behind her.
Arabella rose and brought the countess her spencer and gloves.
She was thanked in a very off-hand manner.
Lady Lampton’s focus was clearly elsewhere.
Indeed, she wandered to the window and stood there a moment in distraction.
Dr. Scorseby approached and addressed Arabella. “Did you have an opportunity to ask the dowager if she has been taking her powders?”
“I did not,” she confessed. “When the opportunity arose, I could not convince myself that it truly was my place to ask after a personal concern she has not chosen to share with me.”
He nodded his understanding. “I will ask her myself tonight. Lady Lampton has been kind enough to invite me to join in the evening’s diversions.”
She was happy to hear it. He would be a fine addition to the gathering, and he would be granted the opportunity to make certain Mater was well.
“I hope I will see you there,” he said.
“I will be there.”
That answer appeared to disappoint him. Still, he nodded and indicated that he looked forward to socializing that evening.
For her part, Arabella’s enthusiasm was waning.
She had enjoyed watching the gathering of people and families the past evenings, and she had been grateful that Mater had included her.
Yet she longed for things to be quiet and peaceful.
The efforts of the Lancaster sisters to find their brother a bride had long since lost their diverting quality. She did not doubt that Linus Lancaster would, at some point, make a match.
“We should be on our way, Arabella,” Lady Lampton said.
“Of course.”
Dr. Scorseby accompanied them to the door. A Lampton Park footman handed them up into the carriage. A moment later, the carriage rolled down the lane.
“Dr. Scorseby seems very fond of you,” Lady Lampton said. It was by far the most personal remark the countess had ever said to her, yet it didn’t feel prying. It was friendly.
“He is a good man.”
Lady Lampton didn’t balk or laugh at her simple answer. “One cannot underestimate the importance of a good man, and a kind one. Far too many ladies are not treated with tenderness by the men in their lives.”
That was all too true. “Forgive me if this is too personal, but having known him all my life, I can with confidence say that your husband quite easily falls into the category of good and kind men.” All of the Jonquils matched that description, just as their father had.
A softness entered her expression that Arabella had never before seen. “He is the very best of men.”
One who was enduring ridicule and the temper of a dangerous man in the hope of helping his wife. “His Grace does not seem to share your opinion.”
Lady Lampton’s shoulders squared, and her chin lifted. Her mouth tensed in a fearsome line. “He does not know my Philip as well as I do.”
“Perhaps Lord Lampton does not know himself as well as you do. I think he—” She cut off the remark before wading any deeper into forbidden territory.
Lady Lampton did not let the sentence end as it had. “What is it you think?”
Arabella shook her head, not wishing to cause difficulty.
“I would like to know, and I vow not to grow angry with you.”
She took a breath and rallied her courage. “I think he wonders sometimes if you are unhappy, not in general terms but with him in particular, with the life you are building together.”
Lady Lampton’s color dropped off a little. “Surely, he does not doubt that,” she said quietly.
Arabella suspected Philip’s antics had grown more pointed of late because His Grace’s insults and annoyance hadn’t inspired any reaction whatsoever in his wife.
While Arabella interpreted Lady Lampton’s composure as a matter of not particularly caring what a near stranger thought of her, she could see that the neutrality was being interpreted differently by Philip.
“I have known the Jonquils all my life,” she said. “They love deeply, but that means they can be deeply wounded as well. A heart is a vulnerable thing.”
Lady Lampton did not answer. She sat in heavy silence, her brows pulled low.
Arabella’s mind was no less at ease. They love deeply.
She had seen that again and again as she’d watched the family interacting.
She slipped her fingers around the bead hanging from her neck.
No one could have blamed her for begging the earl to make her part of his family. All she’d ever wanted was to be loved.
q
As soon as Linus had the opportunity, he was going to throttle Artemis.
Leave it to his youngest sister to choose a contender in his family’s matchmaking efforts who was unrelenting in her determination.
Mrs. Blackbourne had kept a very close eye on him all evening.
She was . . . aggressive to the point of being a little frightening.
Linus did not have a preference for mousy women or ladies who possessed no backbone. Far from it. This, however, was something different. He felt almost like he was being hunted.
Keeping to the edges of the music room whilst the evening’s musical performances were underway did not prevent him from drawing Mrs. Blackbourne’s attention.
Even when she wasn’t looking at him, he felt certain she was aware of where he was.
Their conversations and time together had not been such that this degree of attachment made any sense.
She was in pursuit, not acting upon a true fondness.
The one lady at this party he truly wished to see was nowhere to be found.
He wondered about Arabella. Worried a little, truth be told.
Life had not dealt her a particularly fair hand.
But though her situation was not ideal, she was not broken by it.
He admired that. He felt a kinship with her, an unexpected connection, one that tugged at him when she was away.
Mrs. Blackbourne, sitting not nearly far enough across the room for his peace of mind, adjusted her position on her chair. The movement spoke of preparation to rise.