The Obedient Bride Part 6

"Did you enjoy your evening, Arabella?" he had asked.

"Oh, yes," she had said. "Everyone sat and talked, my lord. There was no music and no dancing. And no cards either. There was a poet there whose latest volume recently created a stir, though I cannot recall his name at present or the name of the book. Frances found his poems quite affecting, but I must confess that I did not hear them. I talked with Lord Farraday."

"Did you indeed?" he had said.

"Yes." She had been smiling, watching George snuffling around the trees that were becoming familiar to him. "He told me many stories about university and the sc.r.a.pes you and he and Mr. Hubbard got into. I have never laughed so hard in my life. It is amazing you never got into deep trouble, my lord."

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself," Lord Astor had said. "Would you care to take my arm, Arabella?"

She had done so and been reminded of her very inferior stature. "Did you enjoy yourself?" she had asked.

"I beg your pardon?" He had looked blankly down at her. "Oh, at my dinner? Yes, thank you, Arabella, well enough."

They had said very little else. When they had arrived home, she had gone down to the kitchen herself to restore George to his new quarters rather than send him with a footman and hear him whine every step of the way. His lordship had handed her a letter when she returned to the breakfast room. He had been smiling. He knew how much she loved to receive news from home.

The letter had contained little beyond the ordinary, though she had devoured its contents with great eagerness. But there had been one thing, and when she had looked up flushed and eager, it was to discover that his lordship was sitting quietly watching her.

"What is it, Arabella?" he had asked, amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice. "Good news?"

"Theodore is coming," she had said. "Sir Theodore Perrot, that is. He is coming to town, Mama writes. How splendid!"

"I met him," Lord Astor had said. "He is the fair-haired and rather broad one?"

"Yes," she had said, staring down at her letter, picturing Theodore coming to sweep Frances off her feet again. Dear, dependable Theodore, who would show Frances at a glance that he was twice the man Sir John Charlton was, or any of her other admirers. "Dear Theodore."

Lord Astor's eyebrows had risen. "And when may we expect his arrival?" he had asked.

"I think any day," Arabella had said, clutching the letter to her bosom and looking across at her husband, stars in her eyes. "We may invite him here for dinner the day he appears? And we will take him to the theater with us and introduce him to our acquaintances and make sure he is invited everywhere? Please, my lord."

He had lifted his cup of coffee and swallowed a mouthful before answering. "It will be as you wish, Arabella," he had said.

But her reaction had been calm in comparison with what Frances' would be, Arabella reflected now, realizing that she had written only a sentence since she had last bent her head over her paper. She blanked all thoughts, exciting and depressing, from her mind, dipped her pen in the inkwell, and wrote.

Frances' reaction to the news an hour later was not quite what Arabella had hoped.

"Theodore is coming?" she said blankly when Arabella ran forward, hugged her tight, and blurted out the news. "Here, Bella? But why now?"

"Perhaps to enjoy the Season, you goose," Arabella said. "Perhaps to see you."

"I do not see why he must come so soon," Frances said. "We have been here only two weeks, Bella. And Theodore and I are not betrothed."

"I thought you loved him," Arabella said bleakly.

Frances' eyes filled with tears. "And so I do," she said. "But I have never had a chance to meet other gentlemen, Bella. Am I to have no chance to make a more eligible match? You have his lordship, and Melinda Sawyer says that all her friends consider you the most fortunate of ladies. Theodore is... well, he is just Theodore. I am fond of him. Oh, of course I am fond of him. But... Oh, I do not know what I think."

"Perhaps when you see him again you will be more sure of your feelings," Arabella said hopefully.

"Oh, I do look forward to seeing him," her sister said, drawing a handkerchief from her pocket. "Dear Theo. He is so faithful, Bella. How horrid and ungrateful of me to feel that I did not wish him to come."

She hid her face behind the lace handkerchief and sank into the nearest chair.

A note was delivered to the house on Upper Grosvenor Street two mornings later asking if Sir Theodore Perrot might do himself the honor of calling on Lord Astor before luncheon. Arabella, who was in the breakfast room with her husband at the time, exacted a promise from him that he would bring Theodore up to her sitting room before he left, and flew from the room in high good spirits.

Lord Astor awaited his guest in his downstairs office. While he waited, he tried to make sense of certain estate doc.u.ments sent him by his bailiff at Parkland. He was determined to understand and become familiar with the workings of his property, perhaps even to spend part of the summer months there.

He had been puzzled and made a little uneasy by Arabella's enthusiastic reaction to the news that Perrot was on his way to London. He recalled the man as a friend of his wife's family, someone he had characterized as a quiet, solid, dependable citizen. Although there had been no open sign of affection, he had drawn the conclusion for some reason that there was an attachment of sorts between the man and Frances.

And it seemed a reasonable a.s.sumption. She was the eldest daughter and the loveliest. He seemed to recall, though he could not be sure of the fact, that Arabella had told him at the time of their betrothal that her older sister was to marry someone else. There seemed to be no one else in the neighborhood with whom she was more likely to have an understanding. It was a natural a.s.sumption that if Perrot did have an attachment to Frances, he would follow her to London and pay his respects at the home where she was staying.

Arabella's reaction to her mother's letter was not in any way inconsistent with that interpretation of facts. She was delighted, naturally, for her sister's sake. And she was delighted at the prospect of seeing a familiar face.

Lord Astor did not even know why he felt any unease at all. If Arabella felt any romantic attachment to Perrot, she would have hidden her delight, would she not? Or more likely she would not even have felt delight but dismay at having to face such a real reminder of her loss. And if the man felt any tendre for her, he would surely not pursue her to town after her marriage and present himself at her husband's home.

He was quite foolish even to think such thoughts, Lord Astor had told himself more than once in the two days since the letter had arrived. And it was equally foolish to wonder what she had found to talk about for a whole evening with Farraday. Or why she had looked so glowing the day before when she had come home from a ride with the lame Lincoln. Or why she had agreed to drive in the park with the gangly youth a day or so before thata"he never could think of the boy's name.

And yet she never seemed particularly to enjoy his company.

And why should he care anyway? Lord Astor asked himself in some puzzlement. Arabella was no beauty, no great prize. He had married her purely for convenience. Indeed, he had not even chosen her himself. Their marriage had brought him neither close companionship nor great sensual bliss. It had brought nothing more than worries and responsibilities, in fact. He should be glad if she did attach herself to other men, provided that she was discreet and aroused no gossip or scandal, of course.

Yet, strangely, he had to admit, he wanted Arabella to like him. And he was not at all sure that she did. She never deliberately avoided him. She always spoke to him if he initiated a conversation; she always took his arm when invited to do so; she always accompanied him where he wished to take her, provided she had no previous engagement. But those facts proved only that she was an obedient wife. She had said from the start that she would be so.

She never shirked her duty in bed. She never feigned sleep, though occasionally he had gone late to her and approached her bed quietly, ready to leave if she were not awake. But always she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. And he could not understand his own enjoyment of those brief and dispa.s.sionate encounters with his wife. She offered herself to him only with a quiet and uncomplaining compliance with his will. He did not know how she felt about receiving him, except that on that one occasion when he had offered to leave if she were very tired, she had told him that she wished to make him comfortable.

He had begun to be a little unfair to her perhaps. He had begun to prolong his encounters with her so that he might feel her warm little body beneath his own for more minutes than was necessary. Yet she held herself open to him and made no protest and gave no sign that she knew what he was about.

It made no sense when he had Ginny with whom to do whatever the pa.s.sions of his body urged him to do. And Ginny was beautiful and voluptuously formed.

Lord Astor pushed the unread doc.u.ments to the side of his desk and got restlessly to his feet at almost the same moment as his butler knocked on the door and opened it to announce the arrival of Sir Theodore Perrot.

He was as Lord Astor remembered him: not any taller than himself, but solid in build and upright in bearing; his very fair hair already thinning, though he could not be past his mid-twenties; his complexion florid; his eyes steady and gray. He thanked the viscount for receiving him, asked after the health of Lady Astor and Miss Wilson, and requested permission to wait upon them when convenient.

Lord Astor took him immediately to his wife's sitting room, where he found both her and Frances sewing. They both rose when he entered and ushered in his visitor.

Arabella swept toward them, her hands extended in greeting, her face lit up with a smile. "Theodore!" she cried. She stopped when her hands were in his, the length of her arms between them. Lord Astor had thought that she was going to rush straight into his arms. "How perfectly splendid to see you. It has been an age. Where are you staying? Are you quite comfortable there? You must come to dinner tonight. You will come? And here is Frances, and I have been prattling and stopping you from speaking with her."

He squeezed her hands, his stiffness of manner noticeably relaxing. "h.e.l.lo, puss," he said with a chuckle. "Do you still talk as much as ever? h.e.l.lo, Frances." He turned from Arabella and held out a hand to her demure sister.

Frances curtsied but did not seem to notice his outstretched hand. "How do you do, Theodore?" she said. "I trust you had a pleasant journey from home."

Arabella linked an arm through his and drew him across the room to sit beside her on a love seat. "We have been waiting with the greatest impatience," she said, "have we not, Frances? We thought you would never come after you had sent that note to his lordship two days ago, and this morning has been interminable. You have not answered any of my questions yet. And I have a thousand more. Do you not think that Frances and I look very grand in our new frocks? They are quite up to the minute, I do a.s.sure you. Though, of course, I am the one to benefit more. Frances always looks perfect whatever she wears. I have had my hair shorn. Do you like it? Did you know that his lordship sent for George and Emily for me? George lives in the kitchen, and I swear he will get fat if Cook does not stop feeding him so many sc.r.a.ps. I scolded her for it just this morning."

It was as he had guessed, Lord Astor thought as he stood silently close to the door, his hands clasped behind his back. Frances was very conscious of the new arrival, even though she had scarcely looked up at him and had spoken hardly a word. And Sir Theodore was looking at her quite as much as he looked at Arabella, despite the fact that he dealt with her prattle and answered her with the greatest good humor.

And Arabella was excited merely because she had grown up with this man as a neighbor and friend and was very familiar with him. She had no tendre for him.

Lord Astor's eyes came to rest on his wife's hand, which was patting the sleeve of Sir Theodore Perrot's coat. He looked up at her eager expression and her sparkling eyes, which were directed wholly at the visitor.

No, there was nothing flirtatious in her manner. But it was perfectly clear that she liked this man very well indeed and felt thoroughly easy in his presence.

He could not expect that she would be as easy and as friendly with him yet. They had been acquainted for only a month before their marriage, and they had been wed for less than three weeks. It would take time to win her friendship and trust. In time perhaps she would look at him as she was looking now at their guest, and talk to him like that without suddenly breaking off with blushing cheeks and downcast eyes.

But did it matter anyway? She was only Arabella. He would not have afforded her a second glance if he had not been honor-bound to marry her. He strolled farther into his wife's sitting room.

"Arabella has not given you a chance to accept our invitation to dinner, Perrot," he said. "Will you come? I am hoping that the ladies will be free to go to the theater tonight. Perhaps you would care to join us too?"

"Oh, will you, Theodore?" Arabella asked, looking up into his face anxiously. "Do say yes. Frances, tell Theodore that he must say yes."

Arabella felt very proud that evening to be seated in her husband's box at the theater with her sister and two of the most handsome gentlemen of her acquaintance. Theodore and his lordship had conversed with each other with great ease at the dinner table, as if they had been friends all their lives, and Frances had looked her loveliest in green. Arabella had not contributed much to the conversation, but she had felt unusually relaxed.

And now she sat next to her husband, their shoulders almost touching, a warm feeling of pleasure and antic.i.p.ation lifting her spirits.

"Have you seen the exquisite down below, Arabella?" he asked, leaning toward her so that her shoulder was against his arm.

"Which one?" she asked. "I do not like looking down there, my lord, for I find those gentlemen very rude. Several of them watch all the boxes through their quizzing gla.s.ses."

"But you simply must look at the one all in lavender," Lord Astor said. "Even his hair and his stockings, Arabella."

She looked down into the pit and saw immediately the gentleman referred to. "Oh, the poor gentleman!" she said. "His mother must not have loved him, my lord, that he has to draw attention to himself so."

Lord Astor threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Arabella," he said, "if we were watching a murderer being hanged at Tyburn, you would probably call him a poor man and find some excuse for his behavior."

"And so I should," she said. "People's troubles are not a laughing matter, you know."

He continued to laugh, though rather more gently. He took her hand in his and laid it on his sleeve. "Ah, the play is about to begin," he said.

Arabella was somewhat offended, a.s.suming that he was laughing at her childish notions. How very naive and countrified her ideas must appear to him. She sat quietly through the first act of the play, enjoying the farce, but very aware of his sleeve and muscled arm beneath her hand. He might laugh at her as much as he wished, but she was not going to allow her evening to be spoiled. For once she was feeling happy to be with her husband, proud to be seen with him, contented to sit quietly at his side, feeling his closeness.

In fact, Arabella was beginning to realize that she was growing to like her husband and growing to believe that at least he did not hate her or have any violent aversion to her person. He could not admire her greatly, of course, but he did not avoid her.

Her greatest wish was that he should grow to like her. She would be happy if he liked her. She was not positively ugly. Her short curls and the fashionable clothes she now wore were becoming, and her face was beginning to lose some of its childish roundness now that she had shed a few pounds. And other people accepted her as an equal. Surely if she could make an effort to overcome her shyness and talk to her husband more often, she could persuade him to like her.

"The play is very humorous, is it not, my lord?" she asked, turning and smiling politely at her husband. "And the acting is quite accomplished."

"Mm," he said, patting her hand lightly and keeping his eyes on the stage. He laughed at something one of the actors said.

"I think it must be very difficult to act convincingly," Arabella said, "and to remember all of one's lines."

Lord Astor, Frances, Theodore, and indeed the entire audience with the exception of Arabella burst into loud laughter. Arabella bit her lip.

When the interval came, she was delighted at the arrival of Lord Farraday at their box, even though he brought with him Sir John Charlton. Theodore, with his solid, dependable strength, showed up to great advantage in contrast to the latter gentleman, she thought, and Frances must surely see it. Arabella was relieved when Lord Farraday began talking to Lord Astor. Her attempts at conversation with her husband had been somewhat labored.

Mr. Browning arrived to pay his respects, and she beamed and chattered happily with him for all of ten minutes.

She turned with flushed face and glowing eyes back to her husband at the end of the ten minutes. She was glad that friends she liked had come to talk with them. But how lovely it was to know that when they left, his lordship remained at her side for the rest of the evening. She was very glad he was her husband, for all her shyness with him.

Lord Astor sat with his eyes directed toward the stage ready for the second act. He did not look up as Arabella took her seat beside him or offer his arm to her.

9.

Alone in her own bedchamber later, Arabella was singing quietly and wordlessly to herself. She was feeling very happy. The play had been entertaining, they had enjoyed good company, and Theodore had promised when they had conveyed him back to his hotel that he would call on them the following afternoon so that the four of them could drive out to the botanical gardens at Kew.

And the day was not yet over. She still had her husband's visit to look forward to. He would surely come, as he was at home and knew she had only just retired. She would have him for several minutes more, all to herself, in the intimate act of marriage, which she was growing to enjoy. Soona"but she would not spoil the day by thinking of that embarra.s.sment nowa"she was going to have to find a way to tell him that he could not visit her for five nights. Within the next few days that was bound to happen unless she was increasing. But it seemed that was unlikely to happen in the very first month of her marriage. She must not expect it too soon, and then she would not be disappointed to find that it was not so.

In the meantime there was tonight to enjoy. Arabella took off her dressing gown and climbed into bed. She did not want his lordship to find her still up. She would not know what to do if he did. She lay on her back, her eyes on the door that led to her dressing room and his.

She smiled at him in her usual way when he came. And she knew immediately that this day had one more delight in storea"yet something she had never considered a delight before. He sat down on the edge of her bed as he did very rarely. Usually he took off his dressing gown immediately and snuffed the candles.

"You enjoyed the evening, Arabella?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, my lord," she said. She smiled at him again. It was impossible to put into words for him the warm feeling about the heart that just thinking back over the evening gave her.

"You seem to have made several friends already," he said.

"Yes," she agreed. "People are very kind. Lord Farraday is a very dear person. I am glad you had him for a friend at university. And Mr. Browning likes me, I think, because I am younger even than he and am not pretty enough to tongue-tie him. I like him. He really has no need to be so shy."

"And Sir Theodore Perrot," he said. "He was a particular friend?"

"We grew up with him," she said, her expression eager. "He is seven years older than I, so to me he was always a big hero. A knight in shining armor."

He smiled rather stiffly down at her and said nothing for a while. "Do you wish you were still at home, Arabella?" he asked. "When the Season is over, would you like to spend the summer at Parkland?"

His meaning was unclear. She did not know if he intended to pack her off home with Frances while he remained in London or went elsewhere, or whether he intended to go with her. She swallowed rather painfully.

"If you wish it, my lord," she said. "I shall do whatever you say."

"Are you not homesick?" he asked.

"I miss Mama and Jemima," she said. "But my home is with you, my lord."

He laid the back of his fingers against her cheek. "I shall take you to them for the summer," he said. "I need to go there anyway, Arabella."

She smiled up at him, relieved. He was intending to be there too! He was not trying to be rid of her.

He took off his dressing gown and got into the bed beside her without snuffing the candles. Arabella wanted to remind him but did not like to do so. She was embarra.s.sed. She closed her eyes tightly when he raised her nightgown and lifted himself on top of her. She positioned herself and drew in a breath in antic.i.p.ation of his entry. She was thankful that the covers were decently over them.

She loved to feel him move in her. She relaxed and hoped that tonight it would last a long time, as it had on several occasions recently. But while her eyes were still shut fast, his rhythm slowed and he lifted himself on his elbows and forearms so that she knew he was looking down at her. It had happened before, but the candles had never been lit before. She opened her eyes unwillingly.

He was looking down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded. They were a mere few inches from her own.

"Arabella," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "You are so very tiny. Do I hurt you with my weight?"

She shook her head. She could feel herself blushing. He was still stroking into her and withdrawing very slowly. His eyes had strayed to her mouth. Arabella ran her tongue nervously along her upper lip. And felt her breath catch in her throat when he lowered his head and kissed her with parted lips very gently and very warmly on the mouth.