Restoration Series - A Scoundrel's Kiss Part 33

"I welcomed his embrace, because I love him."

Simple words, and suddenly so easily said.

"Odd's fish, we do believe you do."

Charles sighed softly, then smiled wryly. "As we know from our own experience with Lady Castlemaine, love and anger are often two sides of the same coin."

"I am sorry I misled you, Your Majesty."

His smile grew rueful. "As much as we think we would both have enjoyed ourselves immensely, we shall confess that our primary objective in pursuing you was to make Lady Castlemaine realize she was not the only apple on the tree.

"And we are now very sure of Neville Farrington's loyalty, for we believe he reciprocates your feelings and appreciate that he was willing to sacrifice that love for his sovereign."

"You think what?" she asked, not taking her gaze from Charles and quite forgetting she was addressing the monarch. "How do you know he loves me? Did he tell you?"

"We do not have to be told everything," Charles said with a slightly aggrieved air. "We have eyes."

He picked up the fork and began to tap his chin. "He is a good fellow, Farrington. Not like his father, thank goodness. What a pompous bore that man is!"

"So you used me to test his loyalty to you?" Arabella asked. Then she pressed her lips together.

Otherwise, she would undoubtedly have said more, and perhaps something treasonous. But ruler or not, Charles should not have used them in such a cavalier fashion.

"We must be sure of the people around us, Lady Arabella, lest our fate mirror that of our ill.u.s.trious father."

After his rueful remark, she could agree with the king's need, if not his method. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Charles fixed a speculative eye on her. "Do you wish to marry Neville Farrington?"

"Majesty!"

"Come, come, this is hardly the time to dissemble! We can command it, if you like." Charles smiled as if vastly amused. "Or put him in the Tower until he swears undying devotion, eh?"

"Your Majesty, please, I would rather he married me because he loves me than because the king commands it."

The king put down his fork. "You are a romantic, I see. So is your sovereign."

Arabella fought to keep any skepticism from her face.

"Therefore, it is our royal decree that this love story have a happy ending.""Majesty?"

"We waited a long time to be king, and sometimes, we enjoy it mightily."

A troop of the king's guards marched into the Banqueting House. At the sight of them, the courtiers fell silent, and the Duke of Buckingham discreetly sought the exit.

Neville watched the soldiers for a moment until another, more shocking sight met his eye.

His father.

He should have been well out of London by now.

"Lord Farrington?"

Neville started and turned to the sergeant-at-arms. "Yes."

"Come with us."

Neville was vaguely aware that his father was coming closer but had to be more concerned with the soldier before him. "Why? Am I under arrest?"

"I have a warrant for your arrest, signed by the king," the sergeant replied.

"Really? May I see it?"

Neville took the paper the sergeant pulled from his large cuff, immediately noted the royal seal, and opened it. He quickly read the writing, which was, indeed, in the king's own hand. "It does not say with what crime I am charged."

The sergeant shrugged. "You are to come with us."

"Delighted," he replied.

"Neville, what is the meaning of this?" his father demanded, pushing his way through the courtiers.

"I'faith, Father, what brings you here? I thought you would be far away by now."

"I came for Arabella."

"Then you are too late. She is with the king."

"What have you done? Why are you under arrest?"

"Does it matter? Perhaps I am finally meeting the fate you think I deserve." Neville glanced at the waiting soldiers. "I had no idea she could be so vindictive."

"Who? That b.i.t.c.h Castlemaine? I have heard of your liaison with her!"

"Father, please! You are not in a barnyard speaking of a pack of dogs. And no, I don't mean Lady Castlemaine. Your charming ward, who is about to become the king's latest mistress, is, I fear, responsible for my current dilemma."

"Arabella? You're making a jest-and a bad one, too!""I think not."

The sergeant barked the order to march.

"Come, Father, don't look so glum. You always knew I would come to a bad end. Now you can congratulate yourself on your foresight."

The sergeant prodded Neville into motion while Lord Ba.r.r.s.ettshire watched helplessly as his only son was led away.

"This is not the way to the Tower," Neville noted almost immediately.

"No, my lord," the sergeant replied gruffly. "We're to take you to the king himself."

She had wasted no time getting her revenge.

And to think that for a moment, before she accepted the king's invitation, despite all evidence to the contrary, he had dared to hope...

The soldiers came to a halt outside the royal apartments. The sergeant stepped forward, knocked and then spoke softly to the liveried servant who opened the heavily gilded door.

"This way, my lord," the sergeant ordered.

Neville nodded, then took a deep breath before striding in to face his obviously irate sovereign, who sat at a small table in the room directly off the anteroom, his brow lowered in an ominous scowl, the food spread before him untouched.

There was, Neville noted at once, no sign of Arabella. Perhaps she was further inside the king's apartments, maybe waiting in his bed.

Neville bowed. "Majesty."

"We are gravely displeased, Farrington," the king said. "Very gravely displeased."

"I am sorry to hear that, Majesty, yet I confess I had some suspicion, since I have been arrested."

"Don't be flippant with me, you young fool," the king snapped, rising and starting to pace in the ornate room. "We are not a c.o.xcomb from the theater or a woman."

Neville bowed his head. "No, sire."

"We have had a most unpleasant experience this evening, Farrington, and it has been laid at your door."

"Majesty?"

"I am sure you know what we were antic.i.p.ating." The king paused in his pacing and fastened his gaze on Neville. "Odd's fish, you of all men know what we were antic.i.p.ating."

"I a.s.sume Your Majesty speaks of Lady Arabella."

"Precisely. She has spurned us, Farrington, and we understand this is your fault."

If the ceiling had suddenly opened up to reveal angels singing, Neville couldn't have been more astonished or more hopeful of forgiveness for his sins."We do not like having our plans thwarted, especially when they involve a lovely young woman like Lady Arabella, Farrington."

"I am sure you do not."

"We understand that you seduced her to make her more amenable to our proposal, and we know women often mistake the physical act for something far deeper. We are sure it is so in this instance.

Therefore, we require that you tell her you do not reciprocate her feelings and that she would be wise to accept all that her king offers her. If you do that, and she proves amenable, we are willing to overlook this little difficulty."

Neville regarded the ruler of his kingdom, the man who should command his absolute loyalty and who had the power to imprison him.

He thought of Arabella and the sordid, unhappy fate that might await her. Even if he had lost her, he could not abandon her to such a future. Not when he loved her with all his heart.

"I regret, Majesty, that I cannot do as you ask."

The king crossed his arms over his chest. "You refuse our direct command? That is perilously close to treason, Farrington. We could let you mull over your impetuous response in the Tower until you see the merit of obedience."

If Neville could not have Arabella in his life, he truly didn't care what happened to him. "Put me in the Tower if you must, Your Majesty, but it will not induce me to change my mind. I do not want her to be your mistress."

"You do not want-?" the king demanded incredulously.

"I love her."

Simple words, and suddenly so easily said.

Arabella appeared at the entrance to the inner chamber.

"Neville!" she cried before running across the room and throwing her arms around him.

"Oh, Arabella, forgive me!" he murmured, holding her close. "I love you! I have always loved you."

"And I, you! But I have been foolish and stubborn and too full of wounded pride."

"No, I was the proud and stubborn one, or I would have declared my feelings for you without waiting for you to speak first. How did I ever think I could live without you?" Neville murmured as he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her brow, her forehead.

"I love you," Arabella whispered as she took his hand and fervently pressed her lips to his palm.

Then they kissed, revealing their feelings for each other more pa.s.sionately than with mere words.

"Reunions are always touching," the king remarked.

Arabella and Neville moved apart yet continued to hold hands. Nor did they stop looking at each other, save for an occasional glance at the most powerful man in England.

"Odd's fish," Charles muttered with a twinkle in his eye, "all this emotion is most unsettling. And you mightset a precedent for devotion we would rather avoid. Therefore, we must order you to be wed without delay and leave the court, on pain of... separation."

"Gladly!" Arabella replied immediately.

"At once," Neville seconded her.

Suddenly, there was a sound of a great commotion in the corridor outside.

"Good heavens, are we under attack?" the king inquired as he put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Then the Earl of Ba.r.r.s.ettshire burst through the door.

Chapter 22.

"Take your hands off me!" the earl roared at the soldiers who tried to restrain him.

"Let him go," the king ordered calmly.

When the soldiers obeyed, Lord Ba.r.r.s.ettshire stumbled forward and threw himself on his knees before the king. "Your Majesty, spare him! Spare my son! Whatever he has done, I am sure he didn't mean it!

He is an honorable, dutiful-"