Chapter Nineteen
Later that night, Arabella quietly entered the library. The disaster of the dinner party had ended over an hour before. She had spent the time since then with Apollo, checking on his injures. Earlier, she had sewn him up and doused him with whiskey to help him sleep. It looked as though he would recover.
She had rejoined the dinner party, but Nash’s coolness and the other guests’ curiosity had made for an unpleasant finish to the event. Maybe things might have ended differently had he supported her decision.
Nash stood at the window, his back to her, sipping on a glass of brandy.
“Quinn asked that I join you?” She moved farther into the room.
He turned to face her. “Please close the door.”
Raising her chin, she did as he bid. Once the door was closed, he studied her for a minute, his hands on his hips. “Arabella, this has to stop.”
“What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ever since we married, my life has been in turmoil.” He raised his hand as she began to speak. “Please hear me out. I have dealt rather fairly, I believe, with your animal nonsense.”
A hard lump descended in Arabella’s stomach. Nash looked very serious, and his lowered voice was more reason for concern than if he’d been shouting at her.
“We currently house numerous dogs in the kennel out back that you keep telling me you will find a good home for—soon. Three more animals in various stages of recovery take up one of the bedchambers. At this rate, there will not be room for us to even live in this house.”
“I know this seems odd—”
“Stop.” He walked in a circle, his head down, and then came to stand in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. “I want this all to stop. No more taking in animals. No more surgery. I want you to behave in a manner more fitting of a countess. We need to take our place in Society, and to do that we cannot host dinner parties where the hostess disappears to perform animal surgery. It is your duty as my wife to see to the running of the household and do wife-type things.”
“Wife-type things?”
“Yes. Accept afternoon calls. Go on visits yourself. Take a ride in Hyde Park in the afternoon. Go shopping, paint watercolors, embroider things, play the pianoforte. I know you are familiar with the routine of ladies.”
“Yes. And I have always hated the routine of ladies.” She swept her hand toward the window. “Those ladies hate me. I have never been a darling of the ton, but since the entire ton believes I snatched you from Lady Grace’s clutches, I have become a pariah.”
She wiped a tear from her eye. “The one time I enjoyed myself at a ball, we ended up arguing with each other. At the soiree, I fainted, which I am sure has made the rounds of gossips.” She threw her hands out. “Why can’t you see I don’t belong here?”
…
Nash stared at her, finally realizing with a sinking feeling that this marriage would never work. He had a position to maintain. Already, word was spreading that his wife was less than a proper countess, and he’d been forced to ignore snide remarks in the halls of Parliament about him running an animal welfare home. In fact, much to his horror, his credibility on a bill he was sponsoring had been questioned.
He’d spent all his life doing the proper thing. Not for him had been the wild life of a young noble. Once finished with University, he’d been discreet with his mistresses, never dallied with a married woman, gambled very little, avoided reckless races in the park at dawn, and rarely drank to excess.
He’d wanted a wife who would do all the things he’d just laid out. And do them with joy. Instead, he had a wife who despised Society, had no intention of taking her place among them, and was only happy when she was up to her elbows in animal blood and chaos. They were too far apart in their way of thinking.
“Then it appears we are at a standstill, my dear,” his tone mirrored the sadness in his heart.
She picked up on his tone and echoed it. “So it seems.”
The silence was overwhelming. And sad. Hopefully, the child she carried was a male child, and once the heir was born, they could live their separate lives. His heart twisted with the picture he had of his life. Lonely, frustrating, and empty. Despite a separation, he would not break his marriage vows. But how could he continue his life with the constant barrage of turmoil and the humiliation of his wife’s behavior? It did not suit him.
“If you wish to retire to the country, I will arrange to have the staff at Clarendon Manor notified of your arrival.” He choked on the words.
“My arrival?” The surprise in her voice told him she did not understand what he meant.
“Yes, sweeting. As I’ve explained to you numerous times, it is necessary for me to be in London, at least until Parliament recesses. It is probably best if you and your animals take up residence at the Manor.”
She grew pale, and for a moment he thought she would swoon. But she straightened her shoulders and gave him a half smile. “And you will join us once Parliament recesses?”
Tension hung in the air as he studied her before responding. “I think not. ’Tis for the best if we separate.”
Her eyes grew wide, and she placed her hand on her stomach. “I am with child, my lord.”
Ah, so now she decided to tell him. Was her revelation a way to make him feel guilty? To reconsider his decision? Arabella was so very different from every other woman he knew in the ton. She cared for none of the things most women of her station cared about. He’d spent the last few months trying to figure her out and had reluctantly come to the realization that they were very unsuited to each other. Something she had tried to tell him from the start.
“I know.”
Arabella sat, her mouth open. “You know?”
“Yes. I can count.” He walked across the room and stared out the window, his hands behind his back. “I was just waiting for you to tell me.”
“I only just realized myself a few weeks ago. It appears I am not as good at counting as you are.” She offered him a crooked smile.
He shrugged. “I will, of course, attend you when the babe is due. Just send word.”
She nodded. “I see.” Arabella stood and shook out her skirts. “Then I guess I will inform Sophia to see to the packing.”
“I will send word immediately for the staff to expect you.”
Without another word, she turned and headed to the door.
“Arabella.” He held his hand out.
“What?” She looked at him over her shoulder, tears glistening in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I just wish…”
She took in a deep breath. “As do I.”
…
Nash entered White’s on a cold and rainy early evening. Arabella and the menagerie had all left for the country two weeks before. He’d thought of nothing else all day, every day, but Arabella. Her smile, her laugh. How her eyes lit up when she talked about her animals.
No matter how hard he tried, he could not sleep without her next to him. Considering he’d slept alone for years, and with her for only a few months, the entire situation was ludicrous. He’d even taken to having warm milk before he retired, certainly a reason to have him banned from his clubs. But, instead of sleeping, he lay on his back, his hands tucked behind his head, staring at nothing, and remembering.
When it became apparent he was not going to enjoy a night’s sleep, he would throw off the covers and pace. Pulling on a banyan, he would tie the belt tightly and descend the stairs to the library where he would attempt to read. Books hadn’t helped. Brandy hadn’t helped. Staring at the flames in the fireplace hadn’t helped.
Nash handed his wet greatcoat and hat to Duncan, the longtime butler at the club door. Duncan bowed slightly, and Nash entered the main room. Nearing dinnertime, the club was full with men seeking company, coffee, whiskey, cards, and food. Nash refused to eat one more meal alone. Cook had taken to making several dishes he despised. The way she sniffed when he questioned her on it told him exactly how she felt about Arabella and her circus leaving. He thought to remind her who paid her wages, but feeling uncomfortable himself, he had finally decided to seek his dinner elsewhere.
He took a chair near the back wall and signaled a footman to bring him a brandy. He would have one or two drinks and then make his way to the dining room. He was perusing the evening newspaper when a deep voice interrupted him. “Evening, Clarendon. I haven’t seen you in an age.”
The Duke of Manchester settled himself across from Nash. He’d always liked the duke and found him to be friendly, but definitely not one to cross. He had five sisters he’d seen married off and was known to be completely, and unabashedly, besotted with his duchess. A duchess who was an acknowledged and respected botanist. Perhaps His Grace was just the person with whom to speak.
“’Tis true, Your Grace. How does your family fare?”
Manchester leaned back and signaled a footman. “Quite well, thank you. Her Grace and I welcomed our new daughter, Lady Bernice, the September past.” He pointed to Nash’s drink, which the footman noted and returned with a glass of brandy for each of them.
“That is now, what, two daughters and a son?”
“Precisely. I seem to be following in my father’s footsteps. One son and the rest daughters. Robert, Marquess of Stratford, Lady Esther, and now Lady Bernice.” The pride in the man’s voice, and face, had Nash’s stomach clenching. If only he and Arabella had come together, he might one day show the same pride in his offspring. The way things looked now, there might be only one.
He pushed the sad thought away. “And Her Grace? She is well?”
“Indeed, and as busy as ever. Since no nurse or governess seems to suit her for long, she spends a great deal of time with our children, but any free minutes in her day are devoted to her science.” Manchester placed his glass on the small table next to him. “How goes your new marriage?”
Nash pasted a fake smile on his face. “Fine. Just fine.”
Manchester’s raised eyebrows told him he hadn’t fooled the duke. “I have heard rumors that Lady Clarendon has retired to the country, yet you remain here.”
“Parliament.”
The duke continued to stare at him, and Nash blurted out, “How do you accept Her Grace’s delving into science? Her a duchess?”
“Ah. Does your wife have some offending hobbies? Have little interest in the usual pursuits of ladies of her station?”
Nash blew out a breath. He needed someone to talk to, and apparently speaking with a man who had dealt with a similar issue might help. “She collects injured animals. Then brings them home and nurses them back to health. My life and home are in chaos.”
“So it seems.” The duke took a sip of his drink. “Much like my life, it would appear.”
Nash relaxed when the duke continued. “I was very upset when my wife and I first married. I thought she showed none of the skills, nor the desire to learn them, that a duchess must possess.”
He snorted. “I certainly understand.”
Manchester studied the brandy in his glass as he swirled the liquid. “The most difficult moment was when I discovered that against my explicit orders, she had been submitting scientific papers under a man’s name to the Linnean Society.”
Nash tried very hard not to laugh, but the idea of the meek, easygoing Duchess of Manchester defying the duke was hilarious.
Thinking of his dinner party, he asked, “Did anyone ever find out?”
Manchester threw his head back and laughed. “She was nominated for an award that all of London knew about, and she asked me to accept it for her.”
“Lie?” Nash was appalled.
“Oh yes.”
He leaned forward, loving the story. “What did you do?”
“After much thought, I agreed to accept the award for her.”
Nash shook his head. The story got more interesting. “And what happened?”
“I stood before the entire Linnean Society and told them I was a fake. That my lovely, talented, brilliant wife had duped them all.”
He sat back, his mouth agape. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” He grinned. “You see, Her Grace is adored by our staff, and our children are free to climb upon her, sticky hands and all. She has been known to commiserate with a maid over the loss of a beau and help a footman count the silver if the poor man is behind in his duties.
“However, in order to maintain her standing in Society, I will on occasion absolutely insist that we host a dinner party, or soiree. She then manages to rally the staff to do everything that needs to be done in time for the event.” He smiled. “She truly amazes me.”
It did sound as though the duke’s life was as unconventional as Nash’s had become. Yet the man seemed happy.
“You are happy?”
His smile grew into a large grin. “Absolutely. I love my wife, and anything that makes her happy does the same for me.”
I love my wife.
Why did those words not trouble him as much as they had in the past?
Nash leaned back and considered Manchester’s words. The duke took a final sip of his drink. “I am afraid I must leave you now. I see Redgrave across the room, and we are late for a meeting.”
He watched Manchester greet his brother-in-law, another devoted husband, and the two of them chatted easily as they left the club. Nash called for another brandy, which he sipped while he considered the duke’s words.